Ruben’s eyelids fluttered and he groaned, pushing himself off of Molly’s lap.
“Wazgoingon?” he muttered. He looked down at his notebook and shivered
“Oh hell,” he muttered, pulling out his phone
“Ruben? What’s burning?” Maggie asked hesitantly, handing him a Coke
“I have no idea… I see shadows and flames…” he frowned, knitting his brows together “Someone screaming”
“Where?” Molly wanted to know
“I don’t know… I’m calling someone who can help us” he put his phone to his ear and the twins leaned in close to try and hear what he was saying. The person on the other end picked up almost immediately.
“Yes?” it was a female voice, cold, hard and slightly tinny because it was coming form the phone speakers
“Um, Hi, this is Ruben Wrong. My dad, Finbar Wrong told me to call your number if anything happened and he couldn’t pick up the phone. He’s out in the country side now and I need help”
“Err, I passed out and when I woke up I had written the words ‘it’s burning’ over and over again”
“Ok, where are you?” the voice sounded a bit interested now, and in the background they could hear a roar, like a car engine starting
“In the cemetery”
“Where kid, are you in a cemetery in Cork or in Cavan or what?” the voice sounded annoyed
“Um, the cemetery in Haggard”
“I’ll be there in five” The line went dead.
“Who was that?” asked Maggie, voicing her twins thoughts
“I don’t know” Ruben admitted “It’s just a number my dad gave me if I needed help, or if I had any visions” Ruben didn’t like having visions, they always left him tiered and shaking.
“Come on, lets go wait by the road” Maggie said grabbing one elbow. Molly grabbed the other and between them they hauled Ruben’s skinny frame off the ground. They progressed slowly through the cemetery, Ruben still was a bit shaky from his vision.
“You stay here, we’ll get the food” Maggie said, helping Molly lower him to the curbside. The twins jogged back to the tote of food, quickly throwing the Jaffa cakes and bacon back into the bag. The little hairs on the back of Molly’s neck rose and she stiffened, some primal instinct telling her to oh-my-god-look-behind-you-someone’s-there! She spun at the same time as her sister, turning wide eyed to stare at the figure the was leaning up against a tree. The first irrational thought that ran though her mind was ‘oh look, a ghost’ and indeed the figure was so pale she could have been dead. The woman looked to be about 20 years old, and was so thin she looked anorexic. She was dressed simply enough, in faded jeans and a ragged t-shirt advertising a concert that had happened fifteen years ago.
“W-who are you?” asked Maggie shakily. The woman looked at her with icy green eyes. The eye’s, not to sound cheesy or anything, literally made shivers run up and down the twins backs. They didn’t seem to blink enough and where certainly not human. The woman seemed to conceder the question for a few moments, before answering coldly.
“My name is Bridget.”