Molly Dancing (standard:horror, 4487 words)
Author: Andrew R	Added: Jun 17 2002	Views/Reads: 3457/2280	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Feel the Dance, spinny, moving, faster, faster. Fell the drum, thumping, like a heart beat, faster, faster...

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

confident, good looking, intelligent; everything I felt I wasn't when I 
was fourteen years old.  I wanted to be David Bowie or Morrissey; he 
was David Bowie and Morrissey. 

We gravitated towards each other pretty quickly.  It was if he wanted to
take the shy sensitive boy under his wing and mould him into a creation 
of his own.  I didn't mind, I revelled in it; anything Tom said was Ok, 
I loved him. 

That night at Blue Notes, we were the faces, standing diffidently by the
bar, surveying our kingdom.  Another face caught my eye, I didn't know 
it yet but it was Katie, the second love of my life.  There was 
something about her, the way she moved with a subconscious flick of her 
hair every few seconds accompanied by an uneasy glance away from the 
mass of spotty seventeen year olds trying to impress her by clownish 
antics.  I must have been staring because I felt like there was a 
tunnel through the crowd, a perfect space for my gaze to hold her in 
view.  She kept glancing uneasily then suddenly broke away from her 
group of admirers and walked towards me.  At a glance there was nothing 
remarkable about her, wearing the familiar floral patterned button up 
dress with Doc Martins and Tie Die accompaniment, the uniform for 
sixteen year old try hard individuals; but it was the way she moved, 
that almost crushing shyness, an unease with her self.  She was 
stunning to look at, wide, hypnotising, brown eyes and a warm, inviting 
mouth framed by her wavy brown hair.  It was as if she was 
uncomfortable with being that good looking, with getting all that 
attention from those boys and in fact just about every male in the 
building.  She stood next to me at the bar and gave me a smile, "Double 
vodka with a twist of lime please," she said. "That's a strong drink 
for someone your age," I said. She looked at me and must have noticed 
that I'd gone red, realising how patronising I must have sounded, 
"Sorry, I didn't mean to say that." She looked amused and teasingly 
said, "how do you know what age I am?" I began to speak again when she 
laughed and took my arm.  The unease seemed to have vanished from her 
face; she led me outside and down to the beach. 

We talked for hours that night, under the pier with the waves gently
lapping in the distance.  She was sixteen and lived in a village just 
outside town; that night had been her first time at Blue Notes.  We 
lost track of the time just talking and talking, there was something so 
comfortable about it even at the start.  I looked at my watch and 
realised it was one in the morning; I could here some girls calling 
Katie, her lift home.  The evening ended in a flash, we quickly 
exchanged telephone numbers whilst walking up to her friends, and 
kissed quickly like it wasn't a big deal whilst her friend Helen 
dragged her away.  I waved sheepishly as she got into her friends mum's 
car.  That was the first night in a long time where I hadn't spent most 
of the evening with Tom, until he pulled and lost interest in me, and I 
walked home on my own.  It hadn't even crossed my mind. 

Katie and I lived in each other's pockets after that.  She said I looked
like Mark Boland and she loved T-Rex.  There is something beautifully 
simple about your first proper teenage relationship, your universe 
exists of smoking dope, drinking vodka and shagging.  Katie liked to 
call it 'making love,' but neither of us was particularly experienced 
and our 'making love' was built more on quantity than quality.  She 
loved to drag me out of Blue Notes on a Friday night and pull me under 
the pier where I would pin her against the storm wall for three minutes 
of frantic lust until my legs gave way and we sank down onto the sand 
trembling with our orgasms and the cold. 

On Katie's seventeen birthday she asked me to drive her to Oxfordshire
to visit the tree where Mark Boland had met his maker.  In the three 
months that we'd been going out together Tom had become a background 
fixture to my life, I didn't realise how much this was effecting him 
until I told him I was going to see Mark Boland's grave and he told me 
with a hurt voice that he was hoping I would go to Belton Mowbray with 
him that day. "Where the hell is Belton Mowbray?" I said. "It's a 
village near where I used to live, they have a festival this time every 
year, it's worth seeing, bring Katie she'll love it.  You can visit 
Mark Boland anytime, he's not going anywhere." I should have told him 
no, but I felt guilty because I'd been neglecting him for three months. 
 I guess I hadn't realised that our friendship was more of a two way 
process than I had thought.  He needed my company as much as I had 
needed his at one point.  I felt guilty but I managed to persuade 
Katie, I promised that I'd make it up to her.  She had such an easy 
going way of viewing the world that meant she would never have showed 
whether it bothered her or not. "It's about time I met Tom properly 
anyway, " she assured me. I must admit Tom's offer did fascinate me, in 
the five years I had known him he had never mentioned his past or how 
he used to live when he was I the back of beyond. 

############################################################## 

"Jamie?  Is that you?" Katie is standing next to me; I must have slipped
into the comfort zone for long enough for me not to notice her moving. 
"Katie?"  I speak hesitantly because for the last five years I have 
been convinced she died a horrible tortuous death somewhere near Belton 
Mowbray.  "I thought you were dead?" She has the decency to blush and 
look down shamefully. "That night, I'm sorry Jamie, sorry for what we 
did." A voice in the back of my head is thanking me for taking the edge 
of my anger with vodka, I just feel like laughing. 

I don't shout, but there was an edge of hysteria to my voice, "What the
fuck are you talking about Katie.  I thought you where fucking dead.  
And what about Tom, where the fuck is he."  I stop my self before five 
years of hate and fear become uncorked in front of the locals at the 
Milford Arms.  Katie hasn't aged at all; she still looks seventeen, 
with just enough puppy fat to make her curves appealing to every 
hot-blooded man who looks at her.  I feel my emotions start to 
overwhelm me, with a realisation that maybe someone isn't going to grab 
me and drag me to Belton Mowbray and torture my eternal soul after all. 


Katie is looking at me, unsure of what to say, she looks confused, "I'm
sorry, Jamie, I'm so sorry about what we did."  She turns to go, this 
time I do shout, "What!"  I'm not sure what to say, "wait, is that it, 
disappear for five years, then appear again just to say sorry, then 
fuck off again, is that it?" She just looks at me shaking her head 
sadly; she backs away and walks out of the door. 
########################################################### 

I heard the car screech moments after she left the bar.  I felt the
sickening crunch of her body as she slammed into the bonnet.  Even 
though I didn't look around I could see it, I closed my eyes and tried 
to wish away my thoughts.  There is a strange sense of overwhelming 
guilt when you wish someone was dead and a moment later that's exactly 
what happens.  There is a blind bend right outside the Milford Arms; 
Katie didn't stand a chance.  Strange, I thought, She had only been 
alive in my mind for about half an hour, before that she had been dead 
for five years; she died in Belton Mowbray, the last time I wished she 
was dead. 
############################################################## 

Belton Mowbray was about fifteen miles away from Lowestoft, in the
middle of the countryside.  You could see the village from miles away, 
and every other dwelling in the area.  The thing about the countryside 
in Suffolk is that it is very flat so focal points tend to stand out 
over great distances.  During the day you can use church spires to 
navigate your way through the country lanes.  The roads are confusing, 
weaving and winding like a maze, yet you always have that comfortable 
feeling of being near civilisation because of the church spires.  The 
same happens at night, the sky is clear and blue; the countryside is 
the only place where you can see the stars anymore.  You always have 
that comforting closeness because light travels so clear and far, so a 
small cottage ten miles away can give you the impression you are not 
lost at all and that all you have to do is walk across those fields and 
ask for help. 

We drove through the country in Tom's 2cv; I hated it, with its peculiar
suspension that made you feel like you were riding a roller coaster.  
Tom loved it though and would speed through the darkness, fuelled by 
adrenaline, with all our lives in his hands.  It took us half an hour 
to arrive at Belton Mowbray; it was barely even a village, more a 
collection of houses with a small pub as it's focal point.  Tom seemed 
to have a plan in mind, we parked in the pub car park then he said, 
"Let's get a drink before the fun begins." "What fun?" I said. "Molly 
Dancing."  He said, and with no other explanation led us into the pub. 

The atmosphere, when we entered, was unwelcoming.  Not in that clichéd
way of the big burly local turning to you with his cold expressionless 
stare and saying in his country drawl, "We don't like strangers in 
these parts." But it was unwelcoming all the same.  The volume seemed 
to drop and the people on the bar seem to become stilted; they were 
trying to appear natural yet I felt a prickly heat from the eyes boring 
into me. 

Tom said, "Let's go through to the back bar, there's a pool table." He
looked at ease in the surroundings; I even think I saw him smile 
amiably at the barmaid.  We passed through a door labelled 'back bar' 
away from the dozen or so middle aged locals who were making me feel so 
uncomfortable, I didn't feel any better in the back bar.  A pool table 
formed the focal point of the room, four young men stood around it with 
cues in their hands, another slightly older man sat at the bar, 
watching them.  There were two doors on the back wall marked 'men' and 
'women,' another man sat on a chair between the two doors, he had a 
leering shifty look in his eyes. 

As with the other room, the atmosphere seemed to change as we entered,
this time I felt more uncomfortable when I spotted the leering man 
looking at Katie, he seemed to be weighing her up, his eyes pawing 
across her breasts.  Katie and Tom didn't seem to notice, Tom went to 
the bar and Katie and I sat down at a small table in the corner of the 
room. 

We sat there through a couple of uncomfortable pints; the guys playing
pool seemed to carefully and deliberately ignore us.  Tom seemed to 
revel in the atmosphere and I noticed a malicious smile on his face as 
he noticed my discomfort.  Sitting there with Katie was the first time 
I thought of the word 'narcissistic' in association with Tom.  He 
seemed too comfortable, too relaxed in the situation, and was taking 
too much pleasure in my discomfort.  Katie didn't seem to notice and 
chatted away happily. 

I got up to go to the toilet, as I approached the door the man sitting
between the doors locked eyes with me and said, "Fiver." "I'm sorry, 
what?" He leered at me, "It's a fiver for the loos, or you could use 
the girls." The way he said it seemed to be weighing me up, if I chose 
the ladies toilet would I get a kicking for 'being queer' or some other 
pathetic excuse?  I didn't want to pay for the toilet and I knew he was 
laughing at me but I was bursting for the loo, "Look mate, come on, I 
need a piss." "Use the girls then," and with a smirk, muttered, "if 
your queer." The man at the bar spoke up then, in a clear baritone and 
with that musical farmers voice, "Let him through Pete.  He's a 
visitor, he don't know." I looked at the patriarch at the bar and gave 
him a sheepish thankful smile.  Pete pushed the door open to let me in. 
I rushed in, desperate to be away from the leering glare. 

The toilet was cold and badly lit, the walls were blue, cold and
forbidding.  The smell of piss hit me first; then I noticed the couple 
at the other end of the room.  A man, looking about sixty, was standing 
with his trousers around his ankles; he was looking up at the ceiling 
with his eyes held tightly shut in concentration.  A girl was on her 
knees in front of him, sucking him off.  I couldn't see her face as her 
dark greasy hair was covering it.  Panicked, I looked around for 
somewhere to hide and ran into a cubicle shutting the door behind me. 

I stood in the cubicle desperately trying not to breathe for what seemed
an eternity.  I tried to block out the sucking noises and the grunting 
that had started from the man.  I suddenly remembered that I was 
desperate for the toilet, I had to go, so I tried to be as quiet as 
possible.  Thankfully with my painful concentration of trying not to 
disturb the couple I stopped noticing the sounds.  In my relief I 
opened the door unthinkingly. 

The man had gone without me noticing, but the girl stood there looking
at me.  She was gaunt with sunken eyes and a sallow complexion.  She 
only looked about fifteen.  I was about to apologise for being there 
when she spoke, "You ready then?" She had a strange drawl to her voice 
that made me think she was handicapped, "Sorry." "You know silly, for 
me to suck you."  She said it so matter of factly I was stunned.  I 
backed away muttering to her, not really making any sense.  I turned 
and hurried out of the room, I rushed over to my table and sat with my 
head down, I thought I heard the leering bloke mutter "That was quick." 


I wanted to go home, there and then, but something stopped me from
saying anything.  Maybe it was because there were too many people 
around or because Katie was there but I didn't mention the girl in the 
toilet.  Tom gave me a strange look as if he was weighing me up, for a 
moment I thought he knew what was going on in the toilet. "We'd better 
go outside," he said, "the Molly dancing's about to begin." 

There was a bonfire outside as we stepped into the darkness.  For a
moment it was all I could see, even the sky seemed pitch dark.  As my 
eyes accustomed to the gloom I noticed a group of people on the other 
side of the fire.  Tom took me by the shoulder and guided me over to 
them, "Watch and learn," he said. There was about a dozen men standing 
around, they could have been the people from the bar, I didn't know.  
It was hard to tell because there faces where blacked out with face 
paint, they were bare footed and seemed to be wearing old overalls. 
"It's going to start in a minute," said Tom.  "It's an ancient dance 
that the coal miners used to do.  It has its routes in the Morris dance 
and Pagan rituals." I looked at him quizzically, half impressed, half 
wondering whether he was bullshitting us.  Katie seemed fascinated, and 
oddly excited by the situation.  A drumbeat took up from somewhere, 
beating like a heart beat.  The Molly Dancers formed a circle; I 
noticed they had sticks.  They began to circle in pace to the drum.  
The drumbeat got faster and they began to criss cross through the 
circle, clashing sticks with the beat of the drum.  The atmosphere was 
humid, unbearably so, and the pressure seemed to build as the pace 
grew.  I felt like the sky was about to rip open pouring down thunder 
and lightning, I began to swoon, caught up in the thrum of the 
drumbeat.  The circle seemed to be spinning faster and faster so that 
all I could see was a whirl of motion with eyes peering out at me.  I 
felt suddenly very exposed; I looked around to Tom And Katie and 
noticed that they weren't there anymore.  They had disappeared; I felt 
myself swoon again, the temperature seemed to have risen to boiling 
point.  I felt myself falling as I blacked out. 

############################################################## 

I don't know how long I lay there, but when I came to I realised I was
on my own.  It was dark and I was on my own.  The bonfire had faded 
away to embers; I could just make out the pub in front of me.  I got up 
and went to look for Tom's car, but the 2cv wasn't in the car park.  I 
walked around to the side of the building to see if he had moved it, 
the air was still and all the lights in the village were off.  As I 
turned the corner of the building I noticed a light on through a small 
window, to the side of the window I thought I could see a couple.  I 
thought it must have been the girl from the toilet again, still 
working.  I paused not wanting to intrude, but then I realised who the 
man was, standing up receiving a blowjob; it was Tom.  He looked 
straight through me and smiled maliciously, that's when the girl 
stopped and took her mouth off his erection, she looked straight at me 
and smiled guiltily, it was Katie. 

I turned then and ran, I didn't know where or why, but I ran.  A few
minutes down the road, running as fast as I could, had me exhausted.  I 
realised what I had done then, and realised I didn't know where I was.  
The clouds had moved over quickly and covered the sky; it was pitch 
black, I couldn't even see the road behind me.  I turned around and 
tentatively tried to retrace my steps. 

As I went down the road I spotted a light it the distance.  It wasn't a
regular solid light but seemed to be flickering causing me to see 
strange colourful illuminations in the sky.  I got closer and could 
just about see the outline of the pub again; in the car park at the 
back the bonfire was lit again.  I noticed the drums growing gradually 
louder and faster as I drew closer.  I could see the Molly dancers 
again, moving in a blur, spinning and spinning, clashing sticks to the 
beat of the drum.  There faces were as black as the night yet their 
eyes were clear and piercing.  They're bodies seemed to take on an 
animal quality, instead of wearing overalls I imagined I could see I 
fine covering of dark hair over their bodies, their feet were cloven 
and there were horns on their heads.  Looking closer I could see that 
they were all erect as they spun around, they seemed to have the 
leering faces of the man in the pub.  The fire was behind them and for 
the first time I noticed another figure, as grotesque and hideous as 
the others, but his face, it was Tom.  Two women flanked him, naked but 
for translucent veils, it was Katie and the girl from the toilet.  They 
both knelt down and fed off his erection, as they did so he stepped 
backwards pulling them into the fire.  The flames danced around them as 
they burned, only concerned with feeding from Tom.  He didn't seem to 
notice but then let out a scream that may have been of agony or 
pleasure.  His eyes locked with mine then and in an instant the music 
stopped.  The Molly Dancers froze and as one turned to face me, their 
features obscured by their blackened faces.  Their eyes pierced me with 
venomous hate; one of them who I swear was the leering man, let out an 
animal scream.  At that they began to run towards me, I turned, blinded 
by panic and ran, the image of Tom, Katie and the girl blackened and 
burning embedded on my mind. 

############################################################## 

There is one cigarette left in my packet, memories I thought I had lost
forever have just come flooding back.  I hope to blow them away as I 
expel the toxic smoke from my lungs.  I can hear the siren of the 
ambulance growing louder in the distance.  The thought that goes across 
my mind is 'I wish it had been me hitting the bonnet of that car.'  
I've had my three double vodkas for the day but I turn to the barmaid 
and say "Another one please, it could be my last."  I sigh and wonder 
how they found me, and why they chose Katie to let me know. 


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