The Rattler (Rattler Trilogy Book 1) by P. A. Fielding Page A

“Thanks, Vana! That’s
not even funny! Remember what happened to her last year after a night out in
Halls? The rapist was never found.”
    “Sorry,
love. It’s just, well, you look a mess.”
    “Gee
thanks.”
    “Come
on, I’ll make some coffee whilst you get dressed.”
    2
    Zoe
took a quick shower and came back down to the aroma of coffee and toast in the
kitchen. “Right,” said Vana, “I want info. What’s been going on? What the hell
happened last night?” Zoe sat at the table, head in hands. “To be quite honest,
I don’t know. I can’t remember a thing. I might as well have been on the Rohypnol.
The night’s a complete blank. All I know is that I feel like shit. It’s like
the biggest hangover in the world – without the pleasure of the wine!”
    “Here,”
replied her friend, “have some toast and coffee; that should help. Anyway,
something must have happened because all that Jake keeps texting me about is
the two videos you made last night.”
    “That
I made?” Zoe was puzzled. Vana rolled her eyes. “Bloody hell,
Zoe! Get your laptop; we need to have a look at these.” Zoe felt dizzy
and confused, and staggered as she got up from the table. “Hey,
hun. Stay there. I’ll get your Mac. Is it upstairs?”
    “Yes,”
mumbled Zoe.
    3
    Vana
returned a couple of minutes later, laptop in hand. She placed it on the table
and booted it up. “Time to get to the bottom of this little mystery,” she said.
The girls sat glued to the screen as the first recording started. “What’s
that?” said Vana. “Quick! Turn it up!” The whispering noises Zoe thought she
heard were now coming from the computer. “Holy shit! I
deffo heard that,” yelled Vana. The friends could not tear their eyes away from
the screen as the events of the previous night unfolded.
    They
watched, silently, as Zoe walked towards the second floor and saw, clearly, the
shadow of a man hiding behind the bathroom door as she reached the landing. “Effin’ Hell! What IS that? Did you see it?” said Vana,
excitedly pointing at the screen. “Rewind it, let’s have another look.” Zoe
rewound the video, and the image came into view again. “I don’t believe it.
It’s a shadow person,” said Zoe, pausing the machine.
    “What’s
a shadow person?”
    “I
can’t remember her name, but that woman on that ghost programme on television
is always seeing them.” The girls continued to watch the video playing. “No
wonder Jake’s been bothering you. I can’t believe this happened,” said Zoe.
They watched in silence, seeing the orbs dance around in the basement, and then
the discovery of the old newspaper. “This is fuckin’ fantastic!” said Vana, as
Zoe passed her the newspaper. “Have a quiet read whilst I get us some more
coffee,” replied Zoe.
    4
    Vana’s
eyes widened as she read the article in the Daily Express. “Come on, let’s see
the next video,” she said, enthusiastically. The video showed Zoe approaching
the attic; Vana covered her face, peeking through opened fingers, but Zoe was
bewildered – she could not remember any of this. “Well,” said Vana, taking a
sip of coffee, “he was deffo up there with you. Are you sure watching it didn’t
trigger anything off in your memory?”
    “Unfortunately
not, but I’m so glad I managed to capture it.” Zoe was looking with interest at
her Internet history, and saw that she had bookmarked the Manor Murderer .
The girls read the reports with interest; the entire affair really captured
Vana’s imagination. “I can’t believe this all ended with his arrest right here.
Do you think he could have blocked your memory from last night? And, if so, why? I suppose all of this could explain why the
house has been empty for so long. I guess people don’t want to buy a haunted
house, and share it with the living dead .”
    Zoe
took the cups to the sink. “Please don’t say that! I’ve got to sleep here,
remember?”
    “Don’t
worry, hun, I’m still staying. It