Old People Know Everything (standard:fantasy, 783 words)
Author: James C. Bernthal	Added: Oct 11 2004	Views/Reads: 3700/2371	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A young couple have been murdered... or have they?

OLD PEOPLE KNOW EVERYTHING - James C. Bernthal 

Trying to find his way in the dark, Alfred reached for the door-handle. 
He turned it slowly and cautiously.  Then he walked onto the landing. 

"Damn this power-cut!" he cried.  He was speaking to himself, unaware
that someone was listening. 

With a flash of light, Alfred saw everything: The cloaked figure
standing inches away from him, clutching a dagger in mid-air; a dead 
hand lying in a pool of blood on the floor; and - worst of all - he saw 
the face of the person who was trying to kill him. 

"Harry...?" 

Alfred ran to where he judged the door would be.  Why did this have to
happen now?  He wasn't used to the house at all. 

It was too late.  He felt the gloved hands engulf him.  It was all
over... 

A few minutes later, an elderly man walked past the house.  Something
made him walk back to it.  Something made him go in.  He pushed the 
door open, it was not locked, and crept up the stairs, apologising for 
any inconvenience. 

The sight that greeted his eyes had been expected.  He knelt down by the
body of Alfred French.  He took Alfred's hand in his and stretched the 
fingers in and out five times.  He said, "You are fine." 

As Alfred rose in a confused state, the man did the same to the woman,
who was lying in another room. 

Alfred looked around.  There was no blood, no loose arm; there weren't
even any scratches on him.  Trying to fight his aching head, he went 
into his wife's bedroom.  Saskia French looked just as confused as him. 
 There was an old man sitting on her bed, offering her a cup of tea in 
an outstretched hand. 

"You are both fine," said the strange man. 

"Didn't I...  Didn't we...  Saskia, your arm..." 

The lady looked down at her right arm. 

"I d-don't understand it..." she said.  "My arm...  I saw him kick it." 

"You saw no one," said the man commandingly. 

Alfred persisted that he had seen someone.  His friend Harry had come at
both him and his wife with a big, shiny knife.  There had been a 
power-cut. 

The man said: "There has been no power-cut.  Let me show you your friend
Harry."  He took each person, one in each arm, and led them out of 
their house and down the street.  They finally stopped outside what 
Alfred and Saskia knew to be Harry's flat. 

"23A, isn't it?" 

"Yes, but how...?" 

"Old people know everything." 

They made their way to Harry's flat and banged loudly on the door.  No
answer came.  This procedure was repeated several times. 

"He won't answer," said the man.  "He won't." 

"Why?" asked Alfred.  "Is he...?" 

"No, no.  Not dead.  Merely banished." 

"Banished?  What do you mean b-" 



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