>Chapter 01
>Chapter 02
>Chapter 03
>Chapter 04
>Chapter 05
>Chapter 06
>Chapter 07
>Chapter 08
>Chapter 09
>Chapter 10
>Chapter 11
>Chapter 12
>Chapter 13
>Chapter 14
>Chapter 15
>Chapter 16
>Chapter 17
>Chapter 18
>Chapter 19
>Chapter 20
>Chapter 21
>Chapter 22
>Chapter 23
>Chapter 24
>Chapter 25
>Chapter 26
>Vote Story
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Chapter 8
The rain came down in such fast rushing torrents they were almost pushing Frank Warren over as he struggled to get one foot in front of the other, trying to reach the children. He could hear them calling him "Help us Frank, PLEASE HELP US!" Frank ran faster and faster but the mud just kept getting thicker and wetter, dragging him back further. The babies were still screaming for him and the rain just kept on coming. Thunder crushed the clouds whilst the lightning set them alight. He summoned up the last of his strength, finally breaking free of the mud. He ran and ran as fast as he could, running towards the sound of the children.
"It's going to be ok. I'm coming kids I'm coming!" He reaches the edge of the pit and stares into the darkness, then there's blinding light and his eye's hurt. There they are. He can see them but their heads are gone. "Help us get our heads back!" Voices without mouths say.
Frank bolted up straight in bed covered in sweat and gasping for breath. It had been three weeks since finding the bodies of those poor babies. The sight of their decomposed bodies had invaded his dreams every night, causing him to wake shaking and crying. The last two nights he hadn't slept at all. He looked haggard and dark rings were beginning to encircle his eyes, marking
the signs of stress. Frank had also lost two stone. Every time he tried to eat the raw smell of
death filled his nostrils, making him to vomit.
The high pitched beeping of the alarm made Frank hurl the clock at the wall, Smashing it in to tiny pieces on impact. He reached over and opened his bedside drawer, removed the top from
the valium bottle and swallowed two. These dreams were doing his head in. Frank had been on sick leave since the incident and partly held this to blame for the dreams. He had too much time on his hands, time to think and grieve. What he needed was get on with his life and start living it
again, not raking over that day again and again with so called counsellors.
The inquest had shown that there was a tunnel underneath where they had been digging. An
unused mine tunnel or something. The children had been there for about six months. Nobody had any idea where the children had come from, as no one had reported them missing. Post-mortems had shown that they were between the ages of three months and twelve months. Each had been decapitated.
The press had gone crazy, offering huge rewards for the murderers capture. They had camped
outside Frank's house for two whole weeks, hounding him every time he left his front door. His
friends had stopped coming round and his telephone was constantly unplugged. Picking up the
phone he dialled his work partner.
"Hi Wes, It's me Frank, look mate the thing is I want to come back to work. I can't take any more
sitting around in this house!"
"Good man Frank. It's about bloody time. See you tomorrow. Chow"
Frank replaced the receiver feeling happier for making a move in his life. He hoped that he could now get on with his life and forget this ever happened.
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