Lost Souls of The Dead

By Doug Pountain

   Ex murder squad detective, Peter Shilton,has made a momentoes decision in his life after years of witnessing the excesses of what men and women are prepared to do to one another without any regrets for their actions. He has after much soul searching, decided to follow his heart and taken the sacred vows of the Church to become the new Vicar of Charnock, a small village in Kent, but he certainly wasnt prepared to find that some of his parishoners are involved in a vile trade that preys on the innocent. Is this just the tip of the iceberg, does this crime against humanity go much deeper, and who is really behind the events that are taking place here in the garden of England? As the truth is eventually uncovered, the identity of those involved and what they are prepared to do to retain a hold over peoples lives takes Peter's breath away, but is it too late for mankind?

 

A dark story about the greed of men and women who would sell their souls for lust, depravity and power at the expense of innocence. Everyone has their own agenda, no matter how dark.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Doug Pountain
• Release date: Oct 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201004774

Doug Pountain

Hello, its great to meet you. I live in a small village in Leicestershire, England, and now i am retired, i have the time to do what i most enjoy, writing. Reviews are the life blood of authors, and if you have enjoyed reading this book, i would appreciate your review. I can be found at https://facebook.com/dougpountain or email [e-mail] I wish you all happy reading as i make myself a cup of tea and begin writing. Take care, Doug Pountain.

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Doug Pountain

Copyright Doug Pountain 2020

all rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or any portion thereof in any form, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered or stored in any form or by any means whether electronic or mechanical without the express permission of the author. This is a work of fiction. names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. the views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

For my big sis and my nephew maurice.

Prologue.

THEY SAY THAT DEATH is part of life’s rich pattern, but that is only for those who do not understand or cannot fully comprehend what it is like to be trapped between the two extremes of life and death. There is a moment in time at your death when your brain continues to function, a time when you are still aware of your surroundings but find yourself unable to move, a time when your eyes flicker as you try to fight off the inevitable as your last breath finally leaves your corpse.

Your body is now beginning to rapidly decay, and it’s time for the soul to leave your mortal remains and move on to the next phase of the journey to the afterlife. You realise that you must reach the light that you see in the distance, surely that’s the right way to go, but what if the way is blocked by others who are also on the same journey? There is no way back to your previous life as you are dead, but there is another way to the afterlife, but this way is very dark and your soul could be dammed for all eternity. It’s at this point where you will need the assistance of the living, but very few have the ability to help the dead on their final journey to the light and salvation.

There is no such person as the wholly righteous, and as such, most of your sins will be forgiven when you finally seek redemption, but remember, if your direction through life has been tainted by your thoughts and deeds, there may only be one destination, and that is into the darkness and the abys, and now all you have is fear. Fear of the blackness, fear of the unknown, fear of what stands before you, may you choose the right path during your time on this earth, or may God help you.

LOST SOULS OF THE DEAD.

CHAPTER 1

It was a very cold and wet Thursday morning when the Reverend Peter Shilton arrived to take up his position as the new vicar of Charnock Parish Church, a few miles away from Ashford in the beautiful English county of Kent. He looked around as he stepped out of his very old blue Ford Anglia, and stretched out his arms to overcome the stiffness in his limbs from the long journey. Now lifting his head skywards and looking up at the very dark sky, he said a small prayer to God, thanking him for the wonderful opportunity for which he had been given.

Peter was a tall man, but also well-built and giving the impression that he could look after himself if required. He was 40 years old and single, you could even describe him as a little scruffy, but his heart was in the right place. He had received the call of God a little late in his life after having been an inspector with the Police Force in the city of Nottingham for many years, and thanks to his own dedication and diligent work he was also in line for a very big promotion, but that was before his calling to the Church. But he was also a man who knew his own mind, and as such after much soul searching he had made this momentous decision to change the course and direction of his life forever, he was following his heart.

As he stood there in the rain in this unfamiliar village, he glanced around in all directions, more in hope than anticipation that someone would see his plight and come to his rescue and point him in the right direction for the Vicarage and which would also allow him to get out of this miserable weather. Suddenly he heard a female voice calling to him from the side door of the Church.

This way vicar. Shouted a lady from her vantage point adjacent to the Church.

He very quickly waived his hand and smiled in acknowledgement to a slim and attractive lady of about fifty years of age. Peter ran as quickly as he could to join her, trying his best to avoid slipping on the abundant wet leaves that had fallen from the many trees surrounding this beautiful and ancient monument to God, but he took great care to avoid making a fool of himself on the narrow path as it led through the old graveyard and eventually to the Church. Once inside he was also warmly greeted by another person, a gentleman of the congregation who had also been waiting patiently for Peter’s arrival. After all, the arrival of a new Vicar is a bit of a spectator sport, you are always uncertain as to what you are going to get, so better to see at first hand before anyone else does.

We are so pleased to see you Vicar, I am Mrs Stanley, and this is Mr Watts the Church Warden, did you have a good journey? She asked him, holding out her hand to greet him warmly regardless of the weather.

Yes, thank you, apart from this awful weather, and it is so good of you to meet me. He replied as he brushed away the rain water from his head.

Well as long as you arrived safely that’s all that matters, and to make you feel a little more welcome and comfortable we have also made up the fire in your house, at least you should be alright when you get in there. Shall we go over there and get the kettle on and have a proper chat?

What a very good idea. He replied, now feeling a little more relaxed after what had been an awful journey from Nottingham, and also the unknown challenge of meeting some of his new parishioners while all the time trying his best to make a good impression.

As they left the sanctuary of the Church and heading for what would be his new home, the Vicar shared a large bright yellow umbrella with Mrs Stanley, as they both ran the short distance to the Vicarage, while also trying their best to avoid the many puddles and slippery leaves.

The house was to the rear of, but adjacent to the Church and it dated back to the 14th century. But apart from the necessary mod cons and a few required alterations which had been added over the years to bring it up to acceptable present day standards, it had changed very little since it had been built. There were three bedrooms, a lounge and a very small kitchen. The windows of the house were also quite tiny by modern day standards and as such there was very little natural light entering into to any of the rooms, but it did not make any difference to Peter, this was all he had wanted for as long as he could remember, the chance to serve God. The ancient oak door was pushed firmly open, and now finally in the Vicarage and feeling a little easier with the situation, Peter turned to his new friends.

I am so sorry, please let me introduce myself properly. My name is Peter, I am sorry but I don’t know your Christian names. He said with just a slight hint of nervousness still prevailing in his normally forthright voice associated with his previous career as a police officer and dealing sometimes with very odd characters.

My name is John, and this lady is Sarah, you name a task and Sarah is responsible for it, apart from grave digging that is. Said the Warden who was now trying to sound a little more impressive and very much in control of things.

Oh don’t say it like that John, I enjoy doing all of the everyday things, besides it keeps me busy, there is only so much cooking and cleaning I can do at home. Replied Sarah, who was now blushing slightly at the wardens comments regarding her many talents.

Now that the ice had been broken, Peter started to feel much more at ease in his new surroundings, and which to him felt very homely and welcoming with the log fire blazing away giving off both heat and a much welcoming and flickering light that played off the walls and cieling of this rather dark room.

The onus was now firmly back with Peter to try and keep the conversation going with his new Church colleagues and explain a little more about his self.

I hope you both realise that this is my first appointment in the Church, and so I trust I can count on you both for your help, assistance and moral support. I know that I will trip up somewhere along the way and make a complete idiot of myself, and so any help you can give me would really be most welcome and much appreciated.

Not a problem Vicar, it will be the whole congregations pleasure to help you settle in and introduce you to village life, and it will also be so good for us all to have a Vicar again. Pronounced Mrs. Stanley with a smile.

We are not a very large group here, but we all know each other very well and do whatever we can to help each other and also the wider community. Replied the Warden who still wished to sound a little more in charge of things than Mrs Stanley.

Are you a good cook Vicar? Asked Mrs Stanley.

Peter turned and looked at her trying to ascertain the meaning of her question before he frowned deeply trying to remember when he had last had a good meal. My beans on toast is not too bad, but even that doesn’t get rave reviews, not even from myself, cooking was never a strong point of mine, I always used to focus more on the eating side of things.

Mrs Stanley was most amused by Peter’s remark. That’s not a problem Vicar, I have been cooking this morning myself, and so I will bring you a casserole over later if that’s alright with you? She replied with a large smile on her face and also thinking to herself. Typical man.

That would be wonderful thank you, I am looking forward to it already. And Peter quietly sensed his stomach suddenly rumble in anticipation of some real home made food.

Sarah looked at him and smiled again before she went into the Kitchen and made a pot of tea for the three of them. Their conversation was about nothing in particular, just general chit chat while they had their drink and got to know each other just a little better, and which Peter found to be reassuring and appreciated a great deal, and now he was starting to feel much more at home and not so visibly nervous.

Right, we will leave you in peace now if that’s alright with you Vicar, I am sure you have many things to take care of without interference from us. Said John Watts.

Thank you very much, and I look forward to seeing you later Mrs Stanley.

No, please don’t call me Mrs. Stanley, call me Sarah, it is much less formal.

Peter saw them to the door and waved goodbye as John and Sarah made their way along the small path away from the Vicarage and towards the village. Now all alone in his new home for the first time, Peter felt very pleased with himself and decided to fully explore the house. He went upstairs and found to his surprise that even though the house had no central heating, that the rooms were still a very pleasant temperature, and his bed to say the least was enormous, even though it did look a little lived in.

But now as he walked into the smallest of the bedrooms at the rear of the house he suddenly felt a slight sensation of being very cold, and a shiver ran down his spine. The room also had a strange atmosphere about it that made it feel unwelcoming to him, as though he didn’t belong in there, but then as he returned onto the landing it quickly disappeared, so he put it down to being a very old and possibly draughty house, but to Peter it made no difference at all.

Peter made his way back downstairs to the lounge and placed another log on the large inglenook fire that must have been a witness to so many things and happenings over the centuries. He turned round to warm his bottom in front of the blazing fire, and as he glanced around the room, he noticed a key rack to one side of the lounge by the front door, and hanging from it was possibly the largest key he had ever seen in his life with a tag fastened to it with an old piece of wire saying Church Main Door. He took the key from the old wooden rack and decided that now was as good a time as any to thank God properly in the form of a prayer said in the Church, and so off he set with a determination to do what he could for others that he had not felt in many years. He knew that this was to be his time to excel in his chosen new life serving God and helping others in any way that he could, he felt decidedly good about the forthcoming challenge.

He walked along the small path that led through the grave yard, and noticing where it was still visible to see the names and dates on the very old and badly weathered stones, and even though he had this new found vigour, he still approached the massive eight feet high Oak doors of the Church with a little apprehension. Peter held his breath and slid the large key into the keyhole and turned it several times before the door finally succumbed to his request for entry and swung slowly open to reveal a stunning and beautiful very old parish Church that looked much larger on the inside than he had previously thought, but due to the weather conditions and the cloud on this day, it made the interior of the Church fairly dark, and so he was not able to fully make out all of the finer details that it contained.

Peter searched around the entrance for a few moments before he finally found a bank of switches and pressed everyone until the lights finally came on to reveal a little treasure of a building. Along the side walls were the names emblazoned on white marble plaques of early benefactors, not just of the church itself, but also local people who had given to help the poor and orphans of the parish. He slowly walked down the main isle with its worn, but still shiny red earthen ware tiled floor, past the pews that had been polished by many backsides over the centuries, and finally up to the Alter where he got on his knees and thanked God properly for giving him the opportunity to serve and to help others as he knew he could.

He prayed silently for several minutes before he finally arose to inspect the vestry and the rest of the church, and he was well pleased by what he found. Peter sat down at the Organ, and for no real reason he decided to play Abide with me it was after all one of his favourite hymns, and he was also a very able musician.

As he was in full flight at the organ, the Sun that had tried so desperately to make an appearance on this wet day, now finally decided with one final burst of energy to break through the very grey and cloudy sky and started to shine as though it had been egged on by the sound of the music to make an appearance, and as the light came streaming through the beautiful ancient stained glass windows, one of the rays of sunlight now shone directly on him and he felt so proud to be in Gods house, now he knew this truly was his destiny.

Peter finished his playing before he suddenly realised that he had not even started his Sermon for Sunday, and so he quickly made his way out of the Church putting the lights out and locking the doors with the enormous Key. Through the graveyard and now back in his house he now pondered the subject of his first Sermon and decided that as he knew Mrs Stanley would be returning later with his casserole he thought, I know.

Thank heaven for small mercies and God’s gift of sustenance.

Peter had never been the greatest writer in the world, he was a man of action and he found writing to be very hard work, not something he enjoyed. He’d been told this numerous times during his time at college, but today he entered in to it with his new found enthusiasm to do well. The warden called round a few hours later to check if all was well and to see if he could be of any assistance, and to be fair Peter found the distraction a very welcome break from his sermon.

I would appreciate a hand in bringing in my trunk from the car so I can get my clothes into the wardrobe if that’s alright with you.

It would be my pleasure. Said John Watts, who was also quite interested to see what Peter had brought with him to start his new life in Kent, and as they went outside he turned to Peter with a look of envy that he was trying very hard to conceal.

I do like your car Vicar.

Peter had to think for a moment, he was still not used to being called Vicar. Thank you John, I have had it for quite a few years now, and to be fair it has never let me down, it’s just nice to have something that is a little different, and all cars appear to look the same nowadays. The Ford Anglia was Peter’s pride and joy.

After struggling with the trunk from the car, and now with all his belongings safely in his house he said to John. How much he was looking forward to his home cooked casserole.

Yes indeed. Sarah is a very good cook, and I can guarantee that you will definitely not be disappointed. She has also won many prizes over the years at the village show for her cakes as well, so be prepared to put on a little weight.

I do hope her husband doesn’t mind sharing his dinner with me. Said Peter who was now even more interested in the forthcoming meal after the Wardens comments.

Suddenly at that moment the facial expression of John Watts changed quite dramatically as he looked over his glasses at Peter.

I had better tell you a little more about Sarah before she arrives.  

Why? What is there to tell? Enquired Peter who was by now himself a little pensive as he waited for the warden’s reply.

John Watts thought carefully about his words for a few seconds before he replied. Sarah’s family have lived in the village for generations, in fact she was even born in the house where she now lives, and then after the death of her parents in a climbing accident in Scotland, she decided to carry on living there. Eventually she met someone from outside of the village who was a policeman, and later she married him, then shortly after the wedding he was appointed the local area and village bobby. He had been living here for about a year, and he was a well-respected person in the community, but then one morning he kissed Sarah as he usually did and then went off to a call which we believe was not too far away from the village, but he never arrived.

I don’t understand, what happened? Asked Peter.

Well Sarah was in the house when a knock came at the door, it was her neighbour who told her that her husband had left his police car’s engine running, she made her way outside but he was nowhere to be found, and that was 10 years ago.

How strange, what about the police, did they not find anything?

It was a massive investigation that went on for a very long time, but there was never any trace of him ever again. He had previously upset a few of the locals as there are some who don’t like outsiders or the police, but he was a truly decent man who only tried to do his duty as best he could. Sarah never really got completely over it as they appeared to be very much in love. But on the morning in question he just went to his police car, started it and then disappeared. They never found his uniform or anything else, it was as though he had been abducted by Aliens or wiped from the face of the earth. The investigation has obviously never been closed, but there was never a clue as to his whereabouts, so it is still the same today as it was all those years ago, he is still just missing.

The information had a marked effect on Peter, he knew from his own service in the police that a disappearance is one of the hardest things for families to cope with, but Sarah was one of his congregation and that made the information also personal.

I am so pleased you told me John or I may have put my foot in it and I would hate to have done that.

That’s ok, Vicar, she can speak about it now without getting too upset so don’t worry yourself too much.

But Peter was not the type of person to ignore difficult situations if he thought he could be of help in any way, it had always been part of his character, and being a Vicar wasn’t going to change that side of his nature.

I don’t know if you were informed by the Church authorities that in a different life not so long ago, I too was a Police officer before I joined the Church.

John Watts appeared to be a little shocked by the statement and he took a step backwards as though his opinion of the new Vicar had changed in some way.

No I didn’t know that, but then again it was Sarah who carried out most of the selection process with the authorities in Canterbury, but may I ask, what was your role in the Police force?

Well I was a Detective Inspector in the murder squad for many years. I have seen the worst kind of excesses that people can do to each other without any thought for others or any regret. You can catch someone who is guilty and put them in Prison for their crimes, but that’s all you can do, it doesn’t help the other people who are left behind and had had their lives ruined by a person’s death, especially when it is a close family member or even a child, and then with my own thoughts I had to move on to the next case, it really was so impersonal. It was this callousness that made me finally decide to change my direction in life and see if I can spot any problems before they become serious, and in that way I may be able to help prevent a crisis before it actually happens, at least that’s my intention, but we will have to see how that works out as we go along.

That’s a truly wonderful intention Vicar, I can see you are going to make a very big difference to our small community, and I commend you for your attitude. We are also very fortunate that we do not have too many social problems locally. We have a few families who are always a little down on their luck, plus a couple of others who the Police are on first name terms with, but I suppose that’s no different to anywhere else in the country. Anyway I will be on my way now, you enjoy your casserole with Sarah, thanks a lot Vicar, bye. And they shook hands as John Watts left the Vicarage.

It was now about 5pm and the weather had finally cleared up from the heavy rain of that morning. Peter, under great stress had now just about got the outline of his Sermon when he heard a faint noise similar to a whimper that he thought was coming from upstairs. He had noticed a cat wandering around outside the Vicarage earlier, and he thought that it may have got into the house. He quietly left the warmth of his log fire and made his way upstairs to the bedrooms and checked all around, but he found nothing. But now on the landing, there was again this slight sensation of cold air surrounding the small bedroom, but there was now also a feeling of dread and despair that appeared to be present, a sensation that Peter himself used to feel when he had to tell a family of a death.  Peter decided that he would mention this to Sarah when she came back later.

He made his way back downstairs and had just finished making a cup of tea just as a knock came on the door and he quickly opened it to find Sarah standing there with his meal and now his mind cleared at the thought of a good meal.

You are a lifesaver Mrs. Stanley, please come in.

It’s only a casserole Vicar, I just hope that you enjoy it.

It may be only a casserole to you, but to me it represents real food, a gift from heaven.

Well in that case does that make me an Angel?  She said jokingly.

As far as I am concerned, yes. I have just made a cup of tea, would you like one?       Yes please, just milk and no sugar, thank you.

I forgot to mention to you earlier Vicar that there is a parish council meeting tomorrow evening, and you being our Vicar also have a seat on it, can you be at the village hall for about 7.30pm?

Of course I can, where is the hall?

I tell you what, better still, I will call round about 7.15pm and then we can walk there together.

That’s very kind of you Sarah. May I ask you a question please?

I don’t know if I will know the answer, but Of course you can. She replied.   

Why did your last vicar leave the parish? I understand he was only here for a very short period of time before he left the village and also the Church.

Sarah looked at Peter with a little smile on her face before she replied.

When he arrived to take up his position, we all knew straight away that he seemed to have very little character about him, and that he appeared to be afraid of everything, including the Church and this house, he was always looking over his shoulder and talking to himself, but we never found out why.

I don’t quite understand, has anything ever happened in the house or the Church?

Not directly as I know of, but why do you ask?

He hesitated for a moment not wanting to look a fool, or that he was afraid of the strange sensations he had felt when upstairs in the house.

When I was on the landing near the small bedroom, I got the feeling that I was not alone. I had a strange sensation that I was being observed by someone or something, does that make any sense to you?

There was another slight pause in the conversation, but this time it came from Sarah before replied to Peter’s question.

Look Peter let me try to explain something to you. There has been a settlement here where the village stands for over a thousand years now, and the village has changed a great deal over that time to what you see today, so let me tell you a story. Opposite the village hall there is a Tudor house, and around two hundred years ago it was used as a kind of orphanage for small children of the area. The owner of the house was given a small amount of money from the local alms to provide for them and the children lived with himself and his wife.

All of the children lived at the top of the house in one large room with just a small window, you can still see the window today.  At the back of the house there is a well that’s about 20 feet deep and they had to lower a bucket down to get the water. One day when the man was retrieving the bucket, it got caught on the side of the well and fell off the rope into the water, and so the story goes that the owner forced a small girl to go down on the rope to retrieve the bucket. But then as she finally reached the bottom in her effort to get the bucket, the loop she was standing on slipped open and she fell into the water and drowned, but now the man panicked and he didn’t know what to do, so he put the cover back on the well and told no one of the accident.

That evening a violent rainstorm hit the village, and next morning when the cover was removed the water level had risen dramatically over night and the Girls body had floated to the top of the well. So when no one was around he transferred her body to the small pond at the back of the Vicarage to make it look as though she had wandered off and it had all been a terrible accident, and at that time there was never any need to doubt him. About a week or so later, a Lady from the village who was passing by the pond on the footpath heard muffled cries and she saw the ghostly figure of the missing girl who was about 5 years old, she was soaking wet and covered in pond weed.

Even though the woman was very afraid of what she had witnessed, she informed the authorities and gave them a description of the little girl, and then later after the man had been interrogated the truth finally came out and he was found guilty of neglect and he was sent to prison for many years. But since that time many have seen her ghost at the small window of the house and in the Church yard. But your predecessor also said he had seen her in this house and he couldn’t cope with that and that’s why he left so quickly, as I said he really had very little character and certainly no backbone.

Peter had sat and had listened intently to what he had been told about the tragedy of the drowning of the little girl, but he also raised a slight smile as to the demise of his predecessor.

Sarah, I have seen many things with my work, but I have never come across this before. I am as you can imagine a firm believer in the afterlife, and maybe it could be that her spirit cannot move on due to the actions of others. Said Peter.

Sarah looked at him for a short time before she said.  So it doesn’t worry you then the fact that the house may be haunted and that you share the Vicarage with a Ghost or a lost spirit whatever you wish to call it?

No, not at all, in fact maybe I can help her.

Sarah’s opinion of her new Vicar was rising dramatically after his statement and which also showed her that Peter was indeed the right man for the job. She went on.

There are many stories surrounding this particular village and also the area regarding the sightings of numerous Ghosts or spirits as you said, whatever you wish to call them, but I think we can save all that for another day, but I must admit that I do admire your resolve. Changing the subject slightly Mr Watts and I would like to take you around the village tomorrow morning and introduce you to everyone if that’s alright with you, subject to the weather that is?

Yes that’s fine, I am looking forward to that already, let’s certainly hope the weather is kind to us or at least better than it has been today. I don’t mind it being cold, but I’ve had to endure the rain so many times before with my work that I hate it. He told