The Beat of the Drum
Detective Rollo was extremely perturbed. He was working on a rather strange case involving twelve people who had mysteriously disappeared, one after the other, over a period of just two weeks. It had taken several days of long hours for him to trace the disappearances but after an almost endless amount of enquiring, he came to a most disturbing conclusion. Every single one of the twelve had been seen signing into Room 113 of the Silver Flag Hotel just before they had disappeared. Rollo realized that the only way to solve the case was to spend a night in the uncanny room.
It was late by the time he arrived. He sat on the low bed which lay beside a huge, ugly cupboard clothed in thick cobwebs. The clock struck midnight and then it suddenly began. He could distinctly hear the continuous beat of a drum which started quietly, picked up temp and rose to a deafening crescendo. The throb began to penetrate into his mind and he felt an icy dizziness creep through him. Clamping his hands over his ears, Rollo staggered over to the cupboard from where the beat seemed to be coming from, like a wounded animal. The moon, shining through the curtains cast eerie shadows over it as he grasped the handle.
It opened with a creak. Rollo, looking into the darkness, screamed in terror as a massive slimy puffy arm reached out and pulled him into the emptiness. He could not breathe as the creature scratched and strangled him. Its breath stank and the yellow teeth gleamed dangerously. Rollo blacked out. It lowered its head down and taking a sucking gasp, bit deep into the detective’s neck. The beat of the drum was no longer audible. The only sound to be heard in the silent room was the crunching as the monster chewed flesh and bones to a fine powder.
Only when every drop of blood had been consumed did it finish its meal. Then with a contented sigh, it stretched out its disgusting limb and after closing the creaking door, lay patiently awaiting its next unwary victim.
The Suffering of World War I
Pete lay crumpled and exhausted in a sticky pool of perspiration and blood in the depths of the gloomy, stinking trench. The hoarse breathing of the other British infantry men continued in a constant pattern as he peered at the eerie shadows cast by the moon. He felt his limbs gradually tighten as the sun began her slow accent into the sky. Dawn was near and another gory day veiled in misery and suffering was about to begin.
The thundering and rumbling of the pounding artillery began as the waves of soldiers increased the tensions on their triggers and clouds of black smoke rose above them. Enemy planes roamed the morning skies and poured bombs onto the allies as they dived down onto the helpless infantry like birds attacking worms on concrete.
Pete crouched quivering like a hunted animal as the continuous thundering of the exploding bombs began to penetrate his terrain and clasping his hands over his head, he wept. The excruciating pain in his wounded chest seemed to increase and as he doubled over, ricocheting bullets tore the earth apart by his side. He completely panicked and using the butt of his gun as a weapon, he shoved his way through the crowds making his way along the trench.
A putrefying body caused Pete to trip and he fell over the stinking carcass. He lay there, not daring to move. The never ending combat continued and within a couple of hours, the battle field was a mass of writhing and suffering injured.
Then it came – silent, greenish yellow oceans of deadly enveloping chlorine gas swirled about the trench and men could soon be seen reeling about and dropping in their tracks.
Pete’s eyeballs began to protrude and he clutched his throat, choking as he ran. He began to vomit with his throat and eyes burning and eventually collapsed into the dirt and blacked out under a mount of carcasses.
Pete was just one of thousands to die that day. So many men lose their lives but to what avail?
Escape from the Germans
I awoke in the early hours with a strong premonition that something was wrong. It wasn’t a noise which had disturbed my sleep, it was the silence.
I could not hear all the familiar sounds which I had come to know so well – prisoners chatting, the lighting of pipes, the commands of German guards and the snoring of those still asleep. This was different. A feeling of freedom surrounded me – a feeling of not being confined between four solid walls and a locked door. I was lying in the country. It was only yesterday that I had escaped from a German Prison of War Camp and my enemies were close on my trail.
Then it came. The fatal sound of hundreds of German military boots trampling the ground towards me. They had caught up. The footsteps came closer and I crouched in my hiding place paralyzed with fear while my pursuers marched on. Soon I could hear their deep, hoarse breathing and realizing that they would find me sooner or later, made a run for it.
The Germans saw me and shots ricocheted from all directions as I dodged through the trees. Exhaustion overcame me and as I stumbled and tripped all the time, the gap between us shortened dramatically. Like a tortured snail, I crawled on. There was no escape. I was doomed. The soldiers were playing with me now. They were so close behind all they had to do was pull the trigger and I would not have had a chance at all but they wanted me to suffer and they were succeeding.
Suddenly a river loomed before me. Water roared down a gulley in the mountain. Looking down into the heaving waters I realized this was my only chance of escape. Plucking up courage I jumped into the swirling current.
Hours later I awoke, my legs in the icy water, my back hunched on a sharp ledge of rock. My head was throbbing and my forehead and legs were covered with dry, caked blood. However I ignored my wounded limbs and head. I had just escaped from the utmost horror – the Germans. I was free.
Strolling along the shore, the silence continued to disturb me. Suddenly I heard an unexpected crack of a rifle and I could feel the deadly impact of a bullet in my stomach. Gasping for breath I fell into the dirt and all went black.
