Benjamin and the Comic Book with No Name

By B S Bhamra

Not knowing that he is dead, Benjamin is dumbfounded when he comes across his own dead body. He also finds a comic book that was in his hand when he died. Will it have the answers he is looking for?

Benjamin tries to understand his predicament as the comic book starts taking over his mind. Read along to experience an adventure of time and magical destiny.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Mar 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9781398437746

B S Bhamra

B S Bhamra is a fiction writer. He was born in Yorkshire in a town called Ripon. Now 45 years of age, Bhamra has been writing for a long time. His first published story was in 2011, although, he wrote his first story in 1998.

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About the Author

B S Bhamra is a fiction writer. He was born in Yorkshire in a town called Ripon. Now 45 years of age, Bhamra has been writing for a long time. His first published story was in 2011, although, he wrote his first story in 1998.

Dedication

To Anthony Oliva Seline, my nursing team, my family and friends, Jacinta, my foster parents and foster brother.

Copyright Information ©

B S Bhamra 2023

The right of B S Bhamra to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398437739 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398437746 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2023

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

I would like to thank Austin Macauley publishers for welcoming me and publishing my book. I would also like to thank MCCH for correcting my English and for supporting me technically.

Preface

I wanted to create an adventure but I wanted it to be peaceful at the same time and I wanted to bring light into my story so it might give the reader peace of mind. I want the reader to feel the power of adventure and know the outsides. I want you to be excited, flustered and hot as well as cool and brave as you read this. I think it’s a beautiful tale of confidence and bravery and I want it to lift your imagination to take you to another world, the mind.

B S Bhamra

Chapter 1

Pre-Settlement

I made my way home quickly. My home was nothing special. It was a large building containing five or ten bedrooms, five living rooms, a study kind of thing. It was in fact a Victorian mansion. It was left to me by my wife after we had both remarried.

It was funny that we both decided to leave each other at the same time; the divorce was a godsend. We were both having affairs and as part of the deal, I got the mansion. It was kind of a pre-settlement. I’ll tell you about that a bit later. When I walked into the mansion, it had a homely feeling to it, although it was now only half a home, and because I did not have any children, it kind of felt a little empty. I made my way to the kitchen. The cooker was on low heat and there was some stew on the stove. It was just beginning to boil over so I guess that it was good timing as I just caught the over spill. I looked around the kitchen quickly grabbing the first thing that I could reach for, the paper, wrapping it around my hand and took the hot pan off the stove. It was dark in the kitchen and due to a vision problem, I could not see in the light too well. But I could see in the night, and especially well in dark rooms. So, I would normally take my dinner to another room to eat it in the dark. When I served the meal, I often ate with bread as much as possible but this time, I only had two slices of wholemeal, my very favourite. Somehow, this evening seemed kind of dull. I had just started eating when I was put off and decided to go for a walk. It was late when I saw the body. At first, I thought that I was seeing things. It was at night and there was nobody around. It was not often that I took this route home. There was a slight wind in the air. I could taste it on my tongue and I could smell it through my nose. It was the wind that drew me to the body. It was sitting upright against a tree. It was holding a book in its hands. Without thinking of the consequences, I picked up the book and put it in my jacket pocket. When I looked closely, it was a man. He was around my age, which we will discuss later. He was well dressed. He was wearing a shirt, tie and trousers and dapper shoes. I could not bring myself to look any further; I did not want to go through his pockets, not even to see if he had any identification or any money. And as I was a little scared, the only words that my soul would say were ‘My God’. I was slowly falling further into shock. After sitting with the body for a few minutes, I pulled myself together and made a call to the appropriate authorities.

At first, the lady on the other side of the phone call did not believe me, maybe because I was calm and cool about the situation. But she was persistent that I was making it up. I was gradually getting more and more angry with her as I raised my voice explaining what I was trying to report. Eventually, she caught on. I asked her if I could leave the scene but she said no. I knew the answer to that. It was obvious that the authorities would want to question me. I tried to tell her as clearly as possible that I wanted to make my way home and I made it clear to her that I was extremely uncomfortable waiting around a dead body. On top of that, she began to question me. She started with my name, then continued, where did I live and so on. In the end, I just hung up irrationally. I waited for a minute or two to calm myself down, then started the journey home.

The next morning, I was sleeping on the settee. It was like being thrown out of bed. The neat feeling of the cold leather and the crooked cresses leaving its marks on my face as it pressed against my face. I could not get the image of the dead body out of my mind. I got up and walked to my bathroom as the sombre feeling of the whole thing started to force me out of my mind. I looked around just as I picked up the bar of soap. The water was warm and its touch gave me a relaxing sensation as I splashed the water onto my face, closing my eyes only to visualise the echoes of the evening before. I put down the towel and the soap. It was a good feeling. I dropped the towel on the floor and not onto the bathroom rail. The home was now mine, and I could do what I please. I had gone to sleep with my socks and shoes on. I slowly pulled the shoes and the socks off.

The police had not caught up with me yet. Mind you, it had only been a day. I was sure that they would be visiting me soon. I walked to my window in the front room and looked outside. The wind was picking up and you could see the wind rocketing the trees blankets. The trees were pretty strong and they were taking it well. Although, there was one which was close to the mansion and every time the force of the wind blew it, I was sure that it was going to come down. And it would probably come down upon the mansion. I was looking down on the floor at the puddles on the tarmac; it kind of shone like a river of silver water.

Even though I lived alone, I had quite a few friends. We all met at university and I had a good relationship with them. They all had jobs but I was not working yet. As I said, I had been given an extremely big house. It was good. I could not be more thankful. I looked outside again. I could hear the pitter-patter of the raindrops hitting the floor. I do not know why, but the rain seemed soothing to me. I looked up at the sky; this was the beginning of a storm. Then all of a sudden, the rain came down, spinning and splashing. There was thunder. It sounded to me like roaring car tyres ripping the roads. I looked hard at the sky. It was like there was something there but I knew there was nothing. Watching the storm sent my mind racing, but what was racing through my mind was the question. What, I asked myself, was I doing in the park. I knew at the time, and the police would be on top of it. I had a motive and alibi, although I was the only person in the park. I could not see any way out. The police were going to question me soon. I had to get a story together. It was just a matter of time. I was scared over the fact that I was going to be questioned. Okay, on the other side of things, it could have been me in the park as I was walking there and I guess I was lucky enough to be able to avoid the strange man’s murder. These feelings ran through my mind. What to think was out of control, but I knew deep inside I had to take control of all my actions as they had to be accounted for.

I was out of control. I had the means of stopping the thoughts; it was medication. If I was to take the pills, you must really believe that they are going to work. I told myself that I had the faith. The medication just kicked in and I was now trying to find a place to hide. I went from room to room. The room I was looking for had an atmosphere in it that I disliked. The room was dark. I went to walk out. I was in two minds. Not knowing what I was doing as I left the room, I slammed the door hard shaking the bookshelf on the other side of the room. I knew what I did, but at this point, it did not matter as there was nobody to hear the large sound of the bookshelf hitting the floor. I was too lazy to be bothered to pick the books up and put them back on the shelf which was now a part of the floor. I went to bed.

The next morning, as I woke up, I could see it had rained and I could see the soft mist slowly rising about a foot or two off the ground, and it covered all I could see. Also, I was hung over. I did not remember how this happened, although I had an empty bottle of wine, so I gathered that I had got drunk and passed out. I pushed the bedding aside, reaching for the pillow that I had lost in the night. I knocked the rest of the bedding onto the floor, and could not be bothered to pick it up. I was getting a little bit angry; it was probably the hangover. I was half asleep in a rage. I leant back into the bed, reaching out for the bedside clock. I looked at the time; it was early. I pushed the alarm clock back onto the side cabinet.

When I finally got up and pulled myself together, I began to weigh up the odds. I began to think about