He was in a tunnel and could hardly see a thing. He was not a fit 61-year old and was still drunk; his body was also half asleep, and the tunnel’s floor was difficult to move on. He could hear ‘them’ catching up with him.
‘YEEEEEWWWWGGHH.’ He nearly froze when he heard this weird female scream, which made him feel like he was being hunted and was nearly caught. What in the hell is going on? he wondered. Damn, he was out of breath and his body felt wasted; he knew he could not continue for much longer.
Suddenly he felt one of ‘them’ jump on his back with a triumphant shriek followed by the others. Then one of ‘them’ clawed his eyes and he fell face down onto the tracks and lost consciousness...
He woke up feeling terrible. His head with its noticeably ginger hair was throbbing with pain; his body felt stiff, dehydrated, and nauseous. This last thing was not helped by a horrible smell of a combination of a cesspit and a rubbish tip, which almost made him choke.
What’s happenning to me? he wondered, desperately wanting some water. Am I dreaming, in some sort of nightmare? He began to feel a little panicky and scared. He tried to find out what sort of room he was in by looking around him and realised that his arms were tied behind his back and his feet were bound. It was also too dark to see much, though he felt the room was quite big and had a stone floor.
He heard some noise like that of rats and tried to move in a protective position: the thought of being attacked by them was awful. His body ached with pain but he managed to move himself a little. The rats seemed to scurry away.
He then felt something digging in his side and suddenly jerked away from it; he thought it was a bone for some reason. Why would there be a bone here? he wondered, but he was too frightened to answer this question. He was now up against what seemed like a wooden wall, where he felt a little safer, though still very scared.
He was about to shout out for help, but then realised how pointless this would be; ‘they’ would also hear him. How in the hell did I get myself in this situation? He could feel the usual symptoms of a hangover and he could also remember having walked unsteadily from pub to pub in Camden Town, after he had finished doing a painting and decorating job. It had been a balmy September night and as usual he could not resist a drink. He had known his heavy drinking would get him into trouble one day and now it seemed this had come.
Suddenly, he heard the room he was in begin to tremble. This became more intense until he realised what it was before its energy became less: it was a tube train in the distance. He breathed out heavily.
He then remembered some of what happened to him after leaving the last pub. He had eventually walked into – or was it stumbled into – Chalk Farm Tube station. He could just about recall barging past the ticket barrier behind someone because he had not bought a ticket.
It had been very late and he had fallen asleep on a bench on the northbound platform, where he hoped to get a tube to Hendon, where he lived. He woke up when one came and he managed to get himself on it before falling asleep again.
In his very thirsty state, he then remembered having half woken up in the tube with its doors open. He had blurrily seen some figures coming towards him. Then he felt himself being carried somewhere. He recalled not liking this, and so he had struggled free, and begun to run.
James now heard a noise from outside the room. He stiffened with fear. He then thought of his wife, whom he knew would be worried sick about him. She was always telling him to stop drinking but he would not listen.
He whispered her name with his trembling lips, ‘Sorry, Debs, love...’ He was crying now but forced himself to look in the direction of the noise, which he realised was one or some of ‘them’ opening the door to the room he was in. There were some guttural sounds: ‘they’ seemed to be talking to each other. James’ breath became shorter and his body felt soaked with sweat.
The door swung open suddenly. He saw the glint of a blade and ‘them’ coming towards him. He passed out. It was the last thing he did.