Spector's Revenge

By Stephen Lurvey

Time heals, it is said. But thirteen months after sending evil back to the land of nightmares in the prequel Spectre Antiques, the teenager Matthew is about to discover that the evil Mr. Spector was not about to forgive and forget. So hed best keep his guard up and his wits razor sharp.

A little assistance from a certain magician (aka Aivis the Burvis) would be appreciated...youd think.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Sep 12, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477227084

Stephen Lurvey

The author, being as fruity as a nut cake, has been able to add bizarre to his exciting and funny works. A good sense of humour was, and is, vital when experiencing supernatural events (aka delusions) when exploring the world of ghost hunting, which have left their marks (aka scars).

Book preview

Spector’s

Revenge

Stephen Lurvey

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© 2012 by Stephen Lurvey. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 09/05/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4772-2707-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-2708-4 (e)

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Prologue

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

Dedicated to Master Jacob Stephen Plant

Welcome to this crazy world, my beautiful grandson

Thanks to Mrs Steve (Bec), Matthew, Julian, Aivis, Goff, Angela and Jayne and to

CADW, Castell Coch, Tredegar House, the City of Newport,

Phil Davies and the South Wales Scorpions RLFC

Prologue

The pages of the prequel ‘Spectre Antiques’ revealed to us the reasons why revenge would be at the foremost of the evil mind of Mr Algernon Spector. And as far as he was concerned, ‘Revenge is a dish best served with a large helping of spite on the side.’

I

The town of Pants-y-Vesty was still licking its wounds. It had been thirteen months since the horrors inflicted upon it by the evil force that had manifested itself into the guise of Mr Spector. Sensitive psychological scars and tender bruises ached whenever memories were triggered of the terrifying proprietor of the destroyed ‘Spector Antiques’ establishment of nearby Coed-y-Phlegm.

Matthew still sported some of the physical scars too, whitened new tissue covering the wounds inflicted during chases and battles within the haunted forest. Sometimes he’d awaken in a cold sweat after reliving the dreadful events in his dreams, or worse, in his nightmares. The latter was where Spector now existed, sent there via the Vortex created by Matthew’s magical mentor Aivis the Burvis.

But happily, this morning Matthew awoke to the tell tale signs of it being his birthday. He pulled away the excessively long fringe of the excessively long mop of waves that covered his cranium, neck and half of his back. He rubbed away the sleep from his eyes and yawned in a burst of oxygen to his system.

He was unsure at first as to whether this was his fourteenth or fifteenth. He was pretty sure it was only fourteen but he was feeling the sensation of déjà vu and needed to open a few envelopes in search of confirmation. Just one card displaying a big bold 14 wouldn’t be enough. Uncle Ashley was prone to guessing the right number at the card shop. Nathan’s parents were pretty reliable though so when their choice matched Ash’s he was 99.9% convinced that today was his 366th as a teenager.

There was a little note inside the one from Nathan’s parents. They were so pleased that the boys had managed to overcome the falling out caused during the appalling events of Mr Spector’s evil, and the revelation of the horrors behind the doors of the Spector Antiques establishment.

It had been an uncomfortable thirteen months for all the members of Matthew’s old gang. They’d all managed to dust themselves down and get back up onto their feet. The stain left by Spector’s dirty deeds was a stain that was beginning to fade as more and more victims washed themselves clean and moved on—condemning the infamous character to memories no more vivid than that of an old nightmare that had once woken you up in the middle of the night. As said, one was still being woken.

The group of friends had drifted apart. They had intended on making the circle of trees within the haunted forest their special meeting place. Since its destruction during the great battle, they’d not been overly enthusiastic about acquiring a suitable replacement location. The frequency of their get-togethers had grown less and less over time and the numbers attending likewise. Their commitment to after school activities and the increase in homework and projects too had created a barrier… or an excuse. They were becoming old friends. But at least they were still friendly.

A party had been arranged and all of the old gang had been invited. The number of Sorry we are unable to make it replies suggested that a more private function would be appropriate. Nobody had fallen out over it all—they just all decided to move on. The well wishes on the posted birthday cards were genuine enough, as would be the sentiments when it was Matthew’s turn to send a birthday card to them.

One good thing to come out of all the trouble was that the rivalry between Matthew’s gang and that of rival Chad Hall’s had ceased. Matthew had saved Chad’s future, and probably his life, and it was recognised by the former enemy. And the experience had had a life changing effect upon the troublesome Chad. He had altered his attitude towards school and was fast becoming the model student. After seeing at first hand some extraordinary and unexplainable magic he had a hunger to learn as much as he could about the sciences. Although the teachers at first thought his interest in chemistry was only one of finding out how to manufacture narcotic substances using the laboratory equipment. It was the quality of his homework, project work and end of term tests that eventually convinced them that he was a changed person. The incarceration of the negative influence in his life, his older brother Assembly, couldn’t have been timed any better. Time at home would no longer be spent planning the next illegal or anti-social act.

The two former rivals were not mates as such. Chad felt hugely embarrassed about his old behaviour to a lad who had then risked his own life to save him. It was too much of a weight he carried to feel comfortable if spending a lot of time around Matthew. A polite ‘alright mate’ in passing was enough.

Mum’s relationship with Mickey Collins the art teacher had only lasted a short while. They were a constant reminder to each other of Spector’s horrors that had occurred, thirty years apart—once as children and more recently as adults. It was a strain neither enjoyed. Parting as friends seemed the best course of action to take in the circumstances. Mickey’s absence meant that Ash became the father figure of the family once again.

So, with close friends at a premium, tonight, an alternative event to a house party was arranged instead of a homemade buffet, a DJ with a record selection twenty years out of date, and the sight of older relatives trying to look hip whilst coping with a dodgy hip. Mum, Uncle Ash and Matthew were going to have a meal in the city and then attend a magic show at the St David’s Hall, Cardiff.

A brand new thick black fleece jacket was proudly zipped up. Matthew had become a keen follower of the South Wales Scorpions Rugby League Club. The pink Scorpion, that he insisted was purple, stood out in its newness. Mum had made a good selection on the garment and the size. Ash’s gift was on its way. The new replica shirt design for the new season was to be released in another two weeks and he had pre ordered one in the away colours. It wouldn’t have been worn tonight anyway—it would have stood out from the audience and no doubt offer the comedic magician an opportunity to interact and possibly lead to Matthew being invited onto stage to be sawn in half. Neither of which did he fancy doing all that much.

The food was good, Italian the choice. Matthew avoided having the Bolognese as it would lead to the big question from Mum i.e. was it better than her homemade sauce. The answer to that one could offend whichever one he gave. If he said it was better Mum would be miffed and if he said it wasn’t Ash could be miffed to think that Matthew wasn’t enjoying his birthday meal. Discretion and diplomacy would seem to be the order of the day. He had the Carbonara instead—which was very good.

They’d not realised that a lot of art work was on display at the St David’s Hall. Matthew had never really shown an interest in art before. He was impressed with the illustrations of Julian Davenne, of course, and loved his cover work for children’s novels. But this was the first time he’d seen oils on canvas. One painting in particular stood out and caught his eye.

A seascape by Vernon W Jones drew him in. It was as if the wave was actually moving. He blinked several times to correct his vision as he felt himself almost entering the picture, so open was his imagination. This bode well for the rest of the evening.

The venue was almost full. The trio took their seats—three rows from the front. At a glance Matthew only spied two seats not yet taken, as he twisted and turned in his seat to take in the impressive surroundings and soak up the atmosphere.

The music playing was an odd mixture of old rock and sinister movie soundtrack. Expressions on faces implied that not everyone was a fan of either of them. The moans and complaints at least gave them something to do whilst they waited for the performance to start.

Finally—over the loudspeakers an announcer hyped-up the show and signalled the impending start. Several terrifying warnings about not approaching the stage whilst dangerous animals were taking part in the act were instructed with a very gravelly voice. Being only three rows from the front suddenly lost its earlier appeal.

The lights around the audience dipped and the bright spotlights from the highest points shot multi-coloured beams onto the stage as dramatic music grew louder and louder. The lights started to dance as the drum beat got quicker and quicker. At the climax all the beams joined as one and focused white light onto a cloud of dry ice. A flash of magnesium white light lit up the stage and as its brightness died and everyone’s eyes readjusted, the magician appeared from within the cloud.

Standing before the audience was a charismatic chap wearing the outfit of a Victorian gentleman. He removed his top hat and bowed as low as was humanly possible. Not quite dancing, and not quite walking, he minced about on the stage removing surplus items of clothing.

Two attractive female assistants, wearing something just a little bit more than underwear, swirled and twirled into well choreographed positions to catch the discarded walking cane, top hat, cape and gleaming white gloves. Uncle Ash felt Matthew’s twitch and knew exactly what had caused it. Those items had brought back the memory of the Victorian dressed gentleman who had caused his family so much pain. A comforting grip of a shoulder and a nod of acknowledgement helped to settle the nerves again.

The magician didn’t wear a jacket. Instead he had on a glittering waistcoat of red and gold sequins—the red laid out into the shapes of rabbits upon the gold background. The spotlight blinded as it reflected off clusters of sequins as the prancing performer twisted and twirled flamboyantly, adding great drama to… well basically… doing what teenagers do when they get in from school i.e. chuck your stuff wherever.

Looking at the sparkling sequins Matthew couldn’t help but be relieved at the thought of rabbits being the dangerous animals foretold. And he’d never ever heard of such a thing as a sabre toothed or vampire rabbit. So he was feeling a lot safer and calmer about sitting three rows from the front than he had five minutes earlier.

From behind a shiny red curtain the artist unveiled a cage of about three feet in height. Inside was a person in a rabbit costume. The cage was re-hidden by the cloth and after another thirty seconds of prancing and hamming it up the magician pulled away the silky material to reveal that a leopard had taken the place of the rabbit. It let out a terrifying throaty squeal that bounced off the ceiling and reverberated from corner to corner. It made it seem like the beast was behind you. In a panic Matthew jumped up and turned to check that there really wasn’t a second one loose somewhere amongst the rows of seats. He wasn’t the only one to do it either. Several embarrassed figures clutched at their throats and panted, explaining to their partners or friends their reason for looking like a numpty.

Their embarrassment and panic soon turned to laughter and everyone joined in. As they returned to a calm seated position the magician applauded them. It was all part of the act, sending a loud squeal out from selected speakers to create the illusion.

Matthew pulled back down the seat of his chair ready to drop his weight back onto it. He stopped mid movement as a silhouette caught his attention. Another Victorian gentleman figure was taking his seat on a higher level, up near the back of the theatre. It made him freeze.

Uncle Ash noticed the boy’s posture and queried the reason for the strange reaction. When he got no reply he followed Matthew’s eye line to the figure at the back. He knew immediately what he was thinking and who he was thinking about. He stretched over and patted Matthew’s hand.

‘Matt?’ He tugged at the sleeve of the new Scorpions jacket. ‘Matt?’

Grumbles from the audience about not being able to see the stage finally snapped Matthew out of his trance. He slowly lowered himself into his seat and sought reassurance from his uncle.

Mum noticed the pair’s unusual actions and enquired, ‘what’s wrong? Matthew? What’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?’

‘It’s ok sis. He just had a bit of a shock. He thought he saw someone he knew. But it wasn’t him… it couldn’t be,’ Ash comforted.

Gathering his thoughts together Matthew regained composure. ‘Wow! That leopard really scared the sh… stuff out of me. I really thought there was one behind us then. Flippin’ ‘eck!’

‘And that’s just the first trick. I can’t wait to see what he does next. I’m so glad that you are having a good time babe,’ Mum enthused.

‘Mum! Ssssh!’ pleaded the blushing teenager.

It was a conversation stopper. They settled back and focused once more upon the stage. The stitching on the ultra tight black trousers of the magician was being strained as he dipped and stretched, using bold arm movements and facial expressions to introduce the props to the audience. There was a silver hoop that he lit up in flame. His lovely assistants then took it in turns to leap through it head first and land into a forward roll and back up to their feet. It was a time-filler, and not really magic, but there weren’t many complaints—certainly not from a fourteen year old three rows from the front.

Card tricks; white doves; interlinking rings; a guillotine and of course the obligatory rabbit produced from a top hat kept the audience entertained for the next forty minutes. Then it was time for some audience participation. The magician offered a show of hands to which more than thirty people responded.

‘Let me see,’ the magician announced as he scanned the selection of eager volunteers. He picked up on Matthew’s Birthday Boy badge and asked, ‘Ah, it’s your birthday? How old are you young man?’

‘I’m fourteen!’

‘Fifteen!’ came a cry from the back of the room.

‘Hecklers at a magic show, eh? That’s a new one on me. Maybe it’s him that I should make disappear,’ joked the magician.

Matthew thought no more of it, believing that the voice from the crowd was just someone planted there to shout out and get two lousy laughs. The act was certainly more magic than comedic.

‘So, birthday boy, what’s your name?’

‘Matthew! Matthew Adams!’

‘‘Well, happy birthday Matthew Adams. Now, tell me… is there someone in your life you’d like to see sawn in half?’

‘My headmaster Mr Platt would do?’ It got a bigger laugh than the magician had managed all night. Several other kids in the audience yelled their appreciation.

The magician laughed too before continuing with his questions. ‘So, how about someone you’d like to see come up on stage and help me with the next illusion?’

In a flash Matthew nominated his uncle. ‘I volunteer him!’ He pointed and prodded Ash in the pasta filled belly.

‘Alright. And who is him! Matthew?’

‘He’s my Uncle Ashley!’

‘Well, come on up here my Uncle Ashley! Yes, come on folks, give him a round of applause!’

The clapping lasted for the entire time it took Ash to find his way up on to the stage.

‘Now I’m not going to saw you in half Uncle Ash, so you can take that worried look off your face. No… I’m going to make you disappear in front of everyone’s eyes. What do you think about that?’

‘I’ll give it a go,’ declared Ash.

‘Good man, Ash. Now, tell me, where would you like me to make you disappear to?’

As the question was asked the two assistants wandered off to stage left.

‘Wherever those two are going please.’

The audience erupted in laughter. It didn’t appear to please the magician too much whose own comedy was raising little more than the odd sporadic titter. After a pause he pretended that he too found the remark hilarious. He prodded Ash in the belly to embarrass. A bit petty really. But that’s the entertainment business for you, full of big egos that are not always backed up by big talent.

The two assistants wandered back on stage with a cabinet. They pushed it onto the marked area upon the stage. Once in place two spotlights lit it up whilst the others continued to point out the two males.

Now I’m not going to explain how the illusion works—that would be unprofessional. And, as I’ve upset the Magic Circle enough already by suggesting many of their members are not very funny or talented, it’s probably best not to push my luck.

Ash followed the magician’s instructions to the letter. He walked into the cabinet when invited and gave a little wave upon request. The girls twirled and spun the cabinet around and upon the big TA DAH! moment, there he was… GONE!

The audience applauded but only half heartedly; as they knew the bigger moment was to come, when Ash reappeared inside the cabinet again and walked out with an amazed look upon his face.

The drums rolled and the cymbals were primed ready for the big CRASH! Only it all went rather flat when there was no sign of Ash at the big moment.

The crowd thought it was all part of the act of course, at first. The panicked performer’s looks and nervous searches all around the outside of the cabinet was just pantomime as far as they were concerned. The gestures and expression of puzzlement, concern and eventually terror got bigger laughs than any of his gags had. He shut the doors time and time again, silently praying that Uncle Ash was going to turn up eventually. But he didn’t.

In order to save the show the magician got the assistants to push the cabinet back off stage and continued with the rest of the act. He’d managed to control the panic and would ham it up to maintain the illusion that he was in control and that it was all going to plan.

Even Matthew and