Chapters (156)
- A DATE WITH DEATH
- Also by Mark Roberts
- A Date With Death
- Copyright Page
- Contents
- The Past
- 1977
- Day OneWednesday, 1st December 2021CatoptrophobiaFear of mirrors
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- The Past
- 1979
- Day TwoThursday, 2nd December 2021OneirophobiaFear of dreams
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- The Past
- 1980
- Day ThreeFriday, 3rd December 2021MonophobiaFear of being alone
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- 62
- 63
- 64
- 65
- 66
- 67
- 68
- 69
- 70
- 71
- 72
- 73
- 74
- 75
- 76
- 77
- 78
- 79
- 80
- 81
- 82
- 83
- 84
- 85
- 86
- 87
- 88
- 89
- 90
- 91
- 92
- 93
- 94
- 95
- 96
- 97
- 98
- The Past
- 1982
- Day FourSaturday, 4th December 2021ThanatophobiaFear of Death
- 99
- 100
- 101
- 102
- 103
- 104
- 105
- 106
- 107
- 108
- 109
- 110
- 111
- 112
- 113
- 114
- 115
- 116
- 117
- 118
- 119
- 120
- 121
- 122
- 123
- 124
- 125
- 126
- 127
- 128
- 129
- 130
- 131
- 132
- 133
- 134
- 135
- 136
- 137
- About the Author
- An Invitation from the Publisher
Faster. Harder. Faster. Harder. Faster. Harder.
And although the room was fridge cold, beads of sweat poured down from each pore. Face, neck, the entire surface of a body that had been skipping for what felt like well over an hour.
All sense of time was lost.
Under the alluring rouge of the light, memory exploded into life.
The past crashed into the present and next door came alive.
The locked door leading to that other, adjoining space where Annie had waited.
Annie. Her mouth. Her eyes. Annie’s body, slack but still alive.
And then there was the other one, more alive because she’d been there for a little less time than Annie. Her voice was trapped inside her throat, her mouth stuffed with a rag. The sound of her chains as she tried… what was she trying to do as the chains smacked the wall at the side of her mattress? Stupid. Not a bit compliant, not a bit like little Annie.
Sitting on the edge of Annie’s mattress now, looking at the other one, she turned her head and made eye contact and terror shone there in the faltering red light and flashes as dark as hell itself.
Staring at her but addressing Annie, The Ghoul spoke.
‘Annie? Annie…’ Her eyes were fixed, dizzying terror now dancing in them. ‘You’re probably wondering what that table is for, the one between the mattresses, and what those knives and scalpels are for…?
‘That’s where you’re going next, when it’s all over for you. I’m going to perform a little cosmetic surgery, post-mortem. Look at the writing on the wall. The writing on the wall says, And, so, off she floats to nowhere.’
Annie made a noise like a newborn baby overwhelmed by her journey into the light from the dark seclusion of the womb.
The Ghoul stood over Annie’s roommate.
‘And this is the same for you… Look at me… Lurrrammmmeeee…’
The human voice was lost and The Ghoul ascended.
18
4.38 pm
As the world plunged deeper into the darkness of early night, rain tripped over itself as it hurtled to earth from the iron sky.
At the Menlove Avenue entrance to the public footpath leading down to Allerton Road, the rain picked up intensity and stung DCI Eve Clay’s cheeks as she dipped under the scene-of-crime tape stretching from the hedge on the edge of Allerton Manor Golf Course to the railings surrounding Allerton Tower Park.
‘Who’s on the scene?’ Clay asked the constable running the log.
‘PC Woodrow. We were first here after the call came through from switch. We were on our way to a domestic in Woolton Village…’
‘Have you sealed off the Allerton Road end of the footpath?’
‘It was too far with the time we had. PC Woodrow sealed it five metres from the body.’
‘You did well. Thank you. The caller?’