The smell of two-stroke petrol and freshly cut grass filled the air as Craig pushed the lawnmower up and down in front of the house. The grass had grown quite a bit over the past few weeks, but Craig had more important things on his mind than cutting the lawn. He could have asked the boys to do the job, but he wanted to enjoy a bit of physical work on a beautiful sunny day.
Each time Craig turned the mower to face his neighbour's house, he was tempted to leave the mower altogether and go talk to Brian. There were so many questions and Craig knew that Brian might have most of the answers. Brian had been around for many years and would know quite a bit of Saldanha's history whether it was good to know, or bad.
Craig had finished off by raking the grass into neat little heaps before placing it into two large black bags. He placed the mower in the garage and decided it was time to pay Brian a visit. His family was unaware of his intentions, but Craig needed some answers. They would not even notice that he was missing for a while. They were all fully engulfed by the TV. Craig wondered if he should rather have a quick shower before visiting Brian, but he dismissed that idea as soon as it entered his brain. Some things were more important than others. Anyway, he was not that dirty, and he was not going to church either.
Craig stood in front of Brian's door and wondered what the old man was busy with. He did not want to interrupt his afternoon nap, or maybe his favourite TV show. Craig knocked faintly on the wooden door, not sure if it was loud enough. He would give it a few seconds and knock again if there was no response, but there was no need. Craig heard the locks shift from the other side of the door.
The door swung open and Craig witness the old man from the other day, 'Hallo Craig.'
'Hi Brian, so sorry to bother you, but I - '
'Come on in,' Brian interrupted with a friendly gesture for Craig to enter.
Craig merely nodded and walked past Brian. The house was dark except for the sun that cast brilliant beams of light on a soft brown carpet, through some of the curtains that were not properly pulled shut. Craig was overwhelmed by the strong smell of mothballs. He could tell that Brian had a healthy appetite for reading. The entire bookshelf on the left wall was filled with thick and smaller books of all sorts.
'My wife and I love books,' Brian said when he noticed Craig looking at the bookshelf. 'Coffee?' he asked already headed for the kitchen.
'Sure, thank you,' Craig said. He noticed how the wall towards the kitchen was covered with photos. Some of them were black and white whereas others had a yellowish blend caused by age.
Brian filled the kettle with water and placed it back on its spindle. 'So how do you like Saldanha?' he said getting two large mugs from a cupboard above him.
'Can't tell exactly, still trying to find my way around things. The kids and wife seem to like it here,' Craig said, standing next to a long kitchen table. He could hear a clock ticking in the house somewhere and imagined a large wooden coo-coo clock sitting in a dark corner somewhere.
'Please have a seat, Craig,' Brian said when he turned around and noticed Craig not knowing exactly what to do with himself.
'Thank you,' Craig said. He pulled a stool from underneath the kitchen table and sat down with his arms resting on the kitchen table. He noticed Brian's rippled hands and wondered how old he was.
'So you don't like it here in Saldanha, is it?' Brian asked as he sat down slowly opposite Craig. The last bit was more of a slump than anything else.
Craig felt guilty for bothering Brian in the first place. He could have waited until he spotted him outside. Craig realised it probably took a lot of energy for Brian to get simple things done. Simple things the younger generation took for granted every day.
'It's not that I don't like Saldanha,' Craig said. 'I think we've been so busy during the past few weeks settling in. I've started working and that also takes a huge chunk of my day.'
Brian regarded Craig closely for a moment. His eyes spoke wisdom that Craig had never seen before. Almost like another divine world. Brian smile and said, 'there is a lot to be learnt around here.'
'What do you mean Brian?' Craig frowned.
'All places have their own history I suppose,' Brian said. 'Saldanha is not that much different from any other place.' His voice sounded tired.
'I read about that hill where they said a Viking ship got stranded,' Craig urged. He knew he had seen more than that, but he hoped that Brian would fill in more details.
'Oh yes, that. I've heard some stories about it as well, but I can't tell if the stories are true or myth.' Brian looks at the table. He seemed to be drifting away for a short while. 'I'm talking about history I know happened for a fact. You see Craig, there are so many things people don't know about Saldanha. The ones who did know are not around to tell anymore, they have all passed away by now. As far as I know, I'm the only one left behind who knows the deeper history around here. I can only tell what I saw and what I've been told by my grandfather when I was a little boy.' Brian repositioned himself into a more comfortable position. 'None of these events had ever been recorded anywhere. All of it will be a myth once I passed on to the other world. Lost and forgotten forever.'
'What events are you referring to?' Craig frowned. He shifted on his chair and sat closer and leaned heavily on the kitchen table with his folded arms.
The kettle came to a boil followed by a faint click sound before it switched off automatically. Craig eagerly awaited Brian's response, but instead, he noticed Brian struggling to get up from the chair. It seemed like he needed all his energy and focus for this daunting task. Craig jumped up in an attempt to help, but Brian shook his head.
'How old do you think I am Craig?' Brian asked as he walked towards the counter in the back of the kitchen where he had placed the mugs earlier.
'I was never good at judging someone's age. That sort of thing landed me in some trouble in the past with the ladies.'
Brian chuckled deeply, 'I will be ninety-three this year.'
Craig gave a long whistle, 'Now that's a lifetime of wisdom and knowledge. I must admit, you don't look ninety-two Brian. See, I would have guessed maybe mid-seventies.'
'I like your guess better,' Brian coughed. 'I've been born and raised here in Saldanha, lived here all my life. My grandfather had a farm which was passed on to my father many years ago.'
'What happened to the farm?' Craig asked. He heard the familiar sound of a spoon tinkling inside a cup. He wondered how long Brian had been staying in this house.
Brian turned around. He carried two cups of coffee which he placed on the table. He struggled to a seating position with a sigh and regained his energy. 'I didn't even ask if you preferred sugar and milk with your coffee, but I've added both, anyway'
'It's perfect, thank you, Brian,' Craig said, reaching for one of the cups.
'You see Craig since my grandfather passed away, things started to change. It wasn't like my dad didn't know how to run the farm. He knew quite a lot about farming, which he picked up from my granddad of course, but things started going downwards. Now. You can call it bad luck or destiny, but I know it was not any of those.'
'I don't understand.'
Brian shifted his mug closer and slurped some coffee. He placed it down and said, 'I was born with a special ability, a gift from God, you may call, but for me, it's a curse. Sometimes I wished I never had such a gift at all, but then again, one can never argue with God.'
Craig nodded with concern and anticipation at the same time. His frown deepened as he regarded Brian. Something about Brian was completely different from what he had ever seen in anyone before. Craig did not know whether he was feeling sorry for Brian or if he just really liked him, but he knew one thing, Brian did not know the end of his wisdom. One can simply tell by looking into his large grey eyes.
'I sometimes see the future. It's like a premonition. Sometimes the images are clear and other times they are big blurry distortions,' Brian said.
'You can see into the future?' Craig asked, surprised. He thought that old age might have something to do with impaired memories as well as abnormal thinking patterns.
'As a young boy, I was sometimes avoided by family members and friends. I suppose no one wanted to know when and how they were going to die one day. After some years, I've learned to keep those things to myself, because being alone as a young man had its benefits, but also downfalls. I had seen my wife many years before we even met, and that was not physical. I saw her in a dream one. She appeared in my life about 4 years thereafter. She looked exactly like the woman from my dreams.'
Craig shook his head in amazement, 'unbelievable.' Brian was staring at the table again. His body was present but his mind seemed to be millenniums away tangled up in an ocean of memories. There was a hint of sadness in his distant eyes.
'Of course, I also knew when she would die. We were married for thirty-six years. The year before she died, I had a dream where she was holding a bunch of flowers in her left hand. The other hand was waving at me. She had the most beautiful smile. The smile of an angel that had been given wings after so many years of patiently waiting, enduring and drifting on the planet in a physical form. That's when I noticed the gravestone behind her. Engraved, her name Barbra Kensington had been engraved there. That was when I knew, my wife would die. Although I did not know when and how exactly, I knew I had to cherish each moment with her.'
'I'm so sorry Brian,' Craig said. He felt deep sorrow for the old man sitting in front of him. Craig witnessed the weight of the world resting upon a pair of ninety-two-year-old shoulders. Craig wished there was something he could do for Brian although he knew that nothing would ever be able to bring back his wife.
'It's fine,' Brian waved it off. 'Dreams and premonitions are just part of my gift. I want to take you back to the farm I mentioned earlier. Things were going well even a few years after my granddad's death. My father had about forty healthy cattle and over four dozen sheep. There was enough water for all the animals as well as the crop in the lands. Strange things started happening days thereafter. At first, we found small animals, and rodents tied to poles, which we didn't think much of at first. That's when I started seeing things on a different plane, another dimension if you want. I thought at first that my family could see it too, but I was proven wrong when I saw black balls of energy drifting in front of my dad's eyes. At that, I asked my dad what they were because he was looking straight at them, but of course, he had not seen any of them. Not that day not ever. The things disappeared for about a week or so. When they came back, there were many more. They were roaming the land, searching for something. They were like souls looking for bodies to possess, only these were bad souls, bad energy. That's when things started going wrong on the farm. The animals were dying one by one and my dad could not understand why. They were all so healthy. We did not use any pesticides or poison on the farm. One day I went to check up on the animals' water crypt. That's when I realised why the animals were dying, although it still did not explain exactly how. I saw those black things again, scattering the lands in packs. They sort of attacked one at a time. These black things moved through the cattle and soon there would be a battle between life and death on a different plain. Energy would be pulled from the cattle and then jump back to the cattle's body almost resisting to leave. A few days later that specific cow or sheep would be found dead on the land somewhere. This I could not tell my dad. You can imagine what that would cause in an already frustrated man. He was not too fond of my gift in the first place, so to tell him about what I had seen would only end up aggravating the situation.'
'Oh my God, you're not pulling my leg are you?' Craig asked. There was a grave concern on his face. He had to shake his head slightly to get his mind out of a dream-like state. Almost like a kid being told a bedtime story. Only this story was more of a nightmare.
Brian shook his head, 'I wish I had, young man, but unfortunately, I was blessed with this curse. It was a blessing at times as I've said before. Especially when it saved me and my family from danger, but it's not the sort of thing one would like to see every day. Things got even worse after that. A series of bad events occurred one after the other. By the time my youngest brother got ill, my dad had lost about eighty percent of the animals. The doctors could not understand my brother's illness, and his condition just got worse as the days went by. We were all so tired of digging holes for the dead animals that there was hardly any time left for the family to bond and reconnect. We had to get the animals in the holes before they started decomposing. It was tough those times. I remember the flies buzzing around the dead animals and soon they were everywhere. Even the house was far from the dead animals. We could not eat the animals of course. We didn't know what caused their deaths although I knew. My brother soon passed away from a hellish fever which tore a hole in my mother's heart. She became someone else. Withdrawn and disconnected from life, we often found her at my brother's grave on the farm some nights. She would not eat and soon she started losing weight. Despite my dad's efforts to get his wife back the way she was, she simply pulled further away from us every day. By the time we found her body against a tree, close to my brother's grave she was a walking skeleton, her eyes sunken deep into her head with bones almost sticking through her clothes. I remember the day we found her against the tree as if it happened yesterday. She was wearing a white nightgown. Her legs were stretched out in a comfortable position. Her mouth and eyes were still open as they looked up to the sky. She had an astonished expression, almost like she had seen God for the first time moments before she passed away.'
Craig opened his mouth in disbelief to say something but nothing would come out. What he had just heard was by far one of the most terrifying and distressing stories he had ever heard. He still tried to figure out whether the story was true or not, but judging from the authenticity of the old man sitting in front of him, there could be very little lies behind those words. Craig knew Brian had no reason to make up such a story. The realisation that this really happened made Craig's heart sank with sadness and sympathy for Brian. He could not help but feel hollow and empty inside for the old timer's past life experience.
'I'm terribly sorry about what happened to you Brian,' Craig said and hoped to high heavens that the path of sorrow did not carry on. He realised Brian must have been a tough person back then and even now. Not many people would be able to endure such events, never mind the gift to see what others were oblivious of.
'So you can imagine what this has done to my father. He started drinking. At first, my brother and I thought it was just temporary. Although it was a terrible loss when we lost our brother, we could never imagine what it must have been like losing one's wife and son. I think deep down, we both knew drinking was no temporary matter. Weeks went by and we saw our dad moving away from us more and more the same way my mother did. He would sit on the couch he had carried out on the porch. He would sit there and stare out at nothing, far away. There was very little life left in his eyes and he hardly registered when we spoke to him. Of course, my brother and I had to take care of ourselves because the food situation became quite a problem. We had to make a plan. By that time we probably had two cows left, so we went to the neighbour and sold them for next to nothing. The farm was going to hell anyway, so we thought to ask the neighbour if he wasn't perhaps interested in buying the farm from my dad or at least go talk some sense into him, but as we expected, my dad was beyond reasoning. We sometimes found him in the barn where he had shattered his empty liquor bottles, cursing to God for what had happened. At least my brother and I had some money from selling the cows, so we had food, but not for long. One morning my dad was not on the porch and the barn door was closed. We thought he was probably wandering on the farm somewhere. It was only later that day when we found his body inside the barn. His wrists have been slit by shards of the shattered bottles around him. He was sitting in a pool of his own blood. The cuts on his wrists were so severe, nobody would have been able to save him, even if they found him in time. As for the farm, well, it was repossessed and shortly thereafter sold for a bargain.'
Craig shook his head, 'So what happened to you and your brother after that?' He had lost all sense of time and realised he must have sounded like a little boy being told a bedtime story once again, except this was no bedtime story anyone would want to tell one's kids.
'More coffee?' Brian asked, shifting in his chair.
'Not for me thank you,' Craig said. Although he would have liked another cup, he did not dare interrupt Brian. Anyway, he would not want to trouble the old fellow again. He had seen how much effort the first cup of coffee was.
'My brother and I started working on the farm next door. Fortunately, they had a granny flat just behind the main house where we stayed. I later realised I had enough of farming and moved to the city where I got a packing job in a factory. I saw my brother once in a while, but at least he was happy there on the farm. Farming was in his blood and I knew he would never survive in the city. Besides, he was almost part of the new family. One morning I received a phone call from the farm. The old man told me that there had been a freak accident. My brother was killed instantly. Apparently, he had a seizure while ploughing the lands. He fell from the tractor and was shredded by the plough.'
'Jesus,' Craig said, leaning back in his chair. Both his hands were tangled up in his hair as he regarded Brian. He felt drained from most of his energy. 'I can hardly believe my ears.'
'That is the truth I'm afraid.'
'What were those things you saw on the farm?'
'I have my theories, but those things were straight from hell. I know what they were and I still see them today. They are demons roaming the plains we walk every day. What they are doing here, I can't tell you except that they are causing death and madness, even possession, which was the case many years ago. One of the few stories that survived throughout the ages of Saldanha's history was such a case. Apparently, there was a man many years ago. He was no saint for starters and he had quite a reputation amongst the community. He started behaving differently. He became more violent one day. Some say that his eyes even had a darker colour than usual. That's when people started disappearing and strange voodoo signs had been found throughout the town, almost like a wild animal marking its territory. People suspected him but they feared him at the same time. Basically, no one wanted to confront him. They were not sure what he might do. Soon after that, there was a massacre in town. He had slain his entire family except for his youngest son. His wife and three kids were found in the basement where they had been locked in for days. Apparently, he had all the time in the world to play with them until the end. Various tools had been used to his liking. The youngest boy, fortunately, got away when he realised his dad had become someone else. A monster. The boy had just escaped when his dad started locking his family members in the basement one by one. The boy ran to far-away neighbours for help and soon the word spread like wildfire until the whole community was informed. At that time everyone had enough and soon they all gathered around the house. When they entered the house, the first time they were attacked by some supernatural forces which made them disorientated. The man appeared from the basement and there was no one strong enough to hold him down. Men were thrown around like they were nothing but toys. The possession had obviously made the man so strong that he could not be challenged by his peers. Fortunately the community outside brought weapons. From guns to axes. The man did not go down easy after that. The town folk opened fire on him, pumping his body full of bullets while he rocked back and forth, but he just kept coming. The bullets had run out, and the folk were forced to use the remaining weapons. The men with the axes targeted his legs first to make him less mobile. His legs shattered and broke. He was human after all. Eventually, his legs had been hacked off completely, but he was still trying to grab the surrounding men. They went for his chest penetrating his heart. Another hit came from behind penetrating his spine. This was something he had not expected. It ended him. The town folk could not find a single bullet wound on his chest or face. That would have been impossible because there were over a dozen of guns and rifles. By the time they went into the basement, it was too late. The family had been slain. There was blood found even on the ceiling and walls. The family's body parts had been found scattered around on the floor and stairs.'
'Jesus Brian,' Craig said. He remembered that Brian was a faithful man and felt guilty for his outburst. 'Sorry.'
'It's all right,' Brian said waving it off with his hand. 'I believe this is indeed a matter of faith. We need God's help more than you know. I sometimes think the only reason I'm alive today is because of my wife Barbra. She was a true believer in God. Her will and faith in God were so strong, that she feared nothing, not even Satan himself. She knew about the things I've seen and still see today, but she did not fear them. Her theory was that those things were just people's bad energy floating around and that it was one's choice to attract it or not. Eventually, it will grow bigger and stronger, that you eventually become it. I told her this is not your normal bad vibe or energy you pick up from some people at times. These were more like demons. I mean, what does a cow or a sheep know about bad energies floating around and eventually got killed by it? Anyway, Barbra passed away in her sleep almost eleven years ago. I guess her faith in God rubbed off on me over the years.'
'Once again, I'm so sorry about all that's happened to you,' Craig said regarding the old man. He noticed the distant look in Brian's eyes and he could have sworn he saw a smile.
'Well, I suppose she had a good life. No. We had a great life together. She had a full life free from fear.'
'So what do you think those things really are? You think they're demons?'
'Barbara was right to some extent when she mentioned them being bad energies. These are forms of energy, but they are vicious, no-good demons, straight from hell. In my opinion, they are constantly roaming among us looking for a weak host to enter and make it their new home. This is commonly found in satanic rituals where kids willingly open up to this sort of activity. It is said that the more of these demons you have inside the more powerful you become. One can even control these things if one knew the craft well. Even worse, these things can be directed at innocent people that have nothing to do with anything bad. The kids who willingly get involved in the demonic world are not necessarily the ones with bad childhoods, some of them know exactly what they get themselves into because they like the power it brings.'
'It gives me the creeps just hearing you say those things.' Craig said, shaking his head. 'But why did these things attack the farm?'
'Not sure, probably someone who knew the craft and used it to get the farm for a low price, I really can't tell. What I can tell you with certainty is that it's not a coincidence that you ended up in Saldanha.'
Craig frowned, 'What do you mean?'
'You see Craig, I had a vivid dream of you about two years ago, one of those future dreams. I saw your face as clearly as I see it today.'
'What?' Craig's frown deepened. 'It can't be.'
'It's true,' Brian said, nodding. 'After I've seen your face in my dream, I saw the house you just bought next to mine.'
'That's impossible,' Craig said, shaking his head. 'At that time I did not even know Saldanha existed.'
'No Craig, I told you about my gift. Soon after my dream, strange things started happening.'
'Strange? How?' Craig repositioned himself on the chair.
'The family who used to stay in the house you bought, was a family of five. Two sons a little older than yours and a daughter of about fifteen. The husband was a boiler maker somewhere which I did not care to know at the time. The wife was a teacher. The family was not exactly your average good behaved citizens. They were more like the bad apples in the neighbourhood if you know what I mean. That's why I kept to myself and minded my own business. I had no desire to form a connection there. They were not exactly the type you would invite for dinner. The husband had a bit of a drinking problem and I guess it sort of rubbed off on the kids. The older son became just like his dad. I heard the wife screaming at her husband at times, especially when they were a little intoxicated. Soon the domestic violence started. The police came around occasionally. Each time they were sent back. The wife protected the husband despite a swollen blue eye or bleeding mouth from time to time. The situation soon became worse when the boys got involved in drugs. At first, it was just a joint here and there and later full-blown meth addicts. I guess they had not much of an example with a dad like that. One thing led to another, and the boys became part of a cult which I think was related to Satanism. That was the time when I noticed more of the demon activity in the neighbourhood. The visits from no-good characters became a common occurrence. Not sure where they came from, but the boys probably made friends with them at the satanic gatherings. Soon thereafter the dad lost his job and things went straight to hell. The mom could not run a family with a teacher's salary. The brothers started stealing to feed their drug addiction and soon got locked up for murder. During the day the dad was busy raping his fifteen-year-old daughter while his wife was working, but she had to find out sooner or later. Her daughter had broken down one day. He was not home until late one night when his wife decided to go looking for him. She had a good idea where he was. Saldanha is not that big and at the time there was only one pub in town. She confronted him there with his own38 Special and pulled the trigger three times without asking any questions. The first bullet would have been fatal, but she made sure he would never rape again. The second bullet went through the shoulder and the third hit his stomach. She was locked up for life because there were many witnesses. I still remembered the first page of the newspaper. It said Satan's mom kills daddy rapist.'
'Good lord. What's wrong with this place man?' Craig sighed and covered his face with his hands for a moment.
'I think fear has something to do with it. No one wants to get involved with any Satanists, especially not when they can make bad things happen. They fight dirty. They curse and use black magic. They are the living creature bearing the mark of the beast. Fortunately, the satanic behaviour seized when the two boys were locked up, but I don't think it's over yet. They belonged to a cult as I've said earlier. The rest of the cult must be around here on the Coast somewhere doing bad things. Rape, offerings, animal killings and sometimes even human sacrifices, all for the sake of power. The problem is, these children are secretive and protective over their cult. No one would ever expect them to be part of something bad, except maybe for one or two characters, but in general, they conceal it pretty well.'
'What happened to the girl who got raped?'
Brian sighed, 'she obviously could not handle the humiliation. Things like that spread quickly around small places. When the story reached the front page of the newspaper, she walked into the ocean and drowned near danger bay. Her body was never found.'
'Fuck Brian,' Craig frowned. 'Apologies for my profound language, but this is a depressing matter. I can't believe this happened just around these areas. The worst thing for me is that Saldanha is such a nice, quiet place at the ocean, a small coastal town and people live in fear for these Satanists?' he shook his head.
'I'm afraid so. As a result of fear, most kids simply join them, unknowing what they are really getting themselves into. Some do, but I guess they feel that they have no choice in the matter. It's a form of group pressure mixed with fear if you asked me. Maybe some of the kids are even intimidated by these Satanists.'
'Well, I'll be sure to watch my kids though. I'll beat the Devil out of them if they come with that rubbish into my house, or even bring strange friends around.'
'That's good. Be firm, especially with your children's ages. They are most susceptible to these things.'
'Brian, you mentioned the dream you had about me. What do you think that means?'
'That I can't tell you for I don't know. Maybe God sent you here for a greater purpose. That is a question only you can answer. You will need to think hard and long about that when you are alone.'
Craig nodded. He looked at the table for a moment. 'Brian, there is something else I want to tell you.' Craig looked at Brian again. 'I found a strange thing in the house the other day. It was almost hidden in the attic. There was a small rodent nailed to a plank up there. It had a small bag with dry leaves and bones. What do you think that was?'
'That would be a territorial marking. If you remember what I said earlier, we found the same strange things you just described on the farm before the trouble started. Well, we removed them from the poles whenever we saw them, but I suppose there were ones we overlooked. I think your house might be marked by the previous owners, most probably the boys when they realised the house will soon be repossessed by the bank. They most probably thought that if they can't have the house to live in, then no-one can. It's a good thing you found it. Check the house properly. Make sure there aren't more of those around somewhere.'
Craig nodded. He was stunned by the amount of knowledge and information in Brian's head. He was surprised that most of the things Brian told him had never been recorded anywhere. It would be a pity if someone as knowledgeable as Brian would pass away and take all that to his grave without anyone knowing that it ever existed.
'Well, I should probably head back. I did not tell my family I might pop in here,' Craig said getting up from his chair. He noticed Brian struggling to his feet and wondered how many years the old man had left to live. He felt sorry for Brian and although he only knew him for a short while, Craig realised he would suffer a major loss if Brian passed away. It would surely be a great loss to the world to lose all that wisdom and knowledge. Craig was surprised by Brian's openness and warm heart. 'Can I wash the mugs at least?'
'Nah, I've got nothing to do all day,' Brian waved it off and started walking down the hall and Craig followed. He paused at the door and turned around slowly. 'You better take care of yourself and your family. I fear this is the dawn of dark days. Remember what I told you. Get God on your side and in your life.'
Something about that sent a cold chill down Craig's spine, 'I will. Thank you so much for your hospitality. And thank you for the coffee.' Craig extended his hand. It was met with Brian's. 'I really appreciate everything you told me.' He looked into Brian's gentle grey eyes.
Brian regarded Craig for a moment. He nodded and unlocked the door, 'you are welcome here any time of day.'
'Thank you once again,' Craig said stepping through the door.
Brian nodded, 'Take care now.'
Craig heard the door being locked behind him. He wondered what time it was. How long have I been sitting with Brian? Craig was certain about one thing. He had to watch out for his children. There were too many bad apples around Saldanha. Satanism...fuck me, Craig thought and shook his head. He headed back to his house. He paused at the front door and looked up at the brown walls.
'What happened here?' Craig asked. 'If only you could talk,' he shook his head, 'if only you could talk.'