Figures of Fear: An anthology

Figures of Fear: An anthology by Graham Masterton Page A

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Authors: Graham Masterton
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sweetheart. Here goes nothing.’
    He circled around the wardrobe, splashing it with petrol. Then he took out a box of matches, lit one, and tossed it toward the wardrobe door. With a soft whoomppphh , the wardrobe was enve-loped in rippling flames.
    Dawn and Jerry stood side by side watching it burn. The walnut veneer crackled and curled, and soon the oak underneath was being scorched black. Sparks flew up into the evening air like fireflies.
    ‘I wonder what’s going to happen to him now?’ asked Dawn.
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Well – this wardrobe is like his only doorway to the real world, isn’t it? Now he’s going to be trapped forever in Narnia – although I don’t suppose it’s anything like the Narnia that’s in the books.’
    The wardrobe was blazing furiously now, and the flames were licking nine or ten feet into the air. Dawn could see that a woman was watching them from a third-floor window in the block of flats next to the demolition site.
    After five more minutes, the flames began to subside a little. Suddenly, however, there was a loud cracking noise, and then another, and then another, and the whole fiery wardrobe was violently shaken with every crack.

    Dawn stepped back a few paces. ‘What’s that?’ she said. ‘It’s not …’
    There was yet another crack, even louder, and the wardrobe door burst open and fell flat on to the rubble. Dawn couldn’t stop herself from screaming. Out of the skeletal remains of the wardrobe, a fiery figure of a man appeared, blazing from head to foot. He was burning so fiercely that it was impossible to see his face, but she knew that it must be the black-faced man.
    ‘ Aaaaaahhhhhhh! ’ he roared at her, and it was a roar of rage and agony and utter desperation. He stepped out of the wardrobe and came toward her, both blazing arms raised, walking with his knees half-bent as if he were almost on the verge of collapse.
    ‘ Bitch! ’ he bellowed, and a gout of flame rolled out of his mouth. ‘ I’ll have you , you bitch! ’
    He began to stagger toward Dawn much faster. Jerry said, ‘Run, Dawn! For God’s sake! Run!’
    Dawn hesitated, and then she started to run, jumping and scrambling over the broken bricks. When she was halfway across the demolition site, she turned, to make sure that Jerry was running too. The fiery man was still staggering after her, and he was much closer than she had realized. She saw Jerry kick out at him, trying to knock him over, but then Jerry lost his balance and fell backward, and the fiery man kept on coming toward her. His flames made a soft rushing sound as he approached, and she could feel their heat.
    ‘ Aaaaaahhhhhhh! ’ he roared again, but this time he sounded even more desperate.
    She started to run again, but the broken bricks gave way beneath her feet in a tumbling cascade, and she had to scrabble for a handhold to stop herself from sliding backward.
    The fiery man had almost reached her, and she twisted around and held up her arm to shield herself.
    ‘ I’m not Sophie! ’ she shrilled at him. ‘ I’m not Sophie Stephenson! ’
    The fiery man stopped still.
    ‘I’m not Sophie Stephenson,’ she repeated, much more softly.
    The fiery man lowered his fiery head, and began to turn away. As he did so, however, Jerry jumped on his back, even though he was blazing, and wrapped his arms around him.
    ‘ Aaaaaaaahhhhh! ’ roared the fiery man, and Jerry roared, too, except that Jerry’s roar came from nothing but pain, as the flames shrivelled his skin and cauterized his nerve-endings.

    The fiery man lurched, and spun around, but he didn’t fall over. Jerry was still clinging tightly to his back, but now he had no choice because the two of them were irrevocably welded together by the heat. They went around and around, and each time they went around, Dawn saw that Jerry’s face was burning scarlet, and then crimson, like a Satanic mask. His arm muscles were charring, so that his white bones began to gleam

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