Retrace

He woke with a splitting headache. Slowly he opened his eyes and then quickly clenched them as the sun immediately blinded him. Gingerly he sat up and rubbed his eyes. Eventually he was able to open them with only a small amount of discomfort. He sat there for a little while looking around, trying to recognise his surroundings. But try as he might, nothing seemed to register. In fact, he couldn't remember where he was supposed to be. His brain was completely empty! There were no memories at all, not even his name.

He sat for a moment longer in a dazed stupor. Who was he, where did he live? So many questions, but no answers. He looked over the clothes he was wearing, in hope they would tell him at least something, although all his tattered and torn pyjamas said was that he obviously didn't have any ID on him. He carefully got onto all fours and crawled over to a nearby river. The clear water reflected his image easily in the bright sunlight. He was astonished to find that he was only a boy, no more than thirteen or fourteen. He had a large amount of dried blood matting his hair and streaking down his face and neck. Somehow, he must of hit his head and he's now got amnesia. As he shook his head trying to clear it of the questions that were rapidly filling it, he saw a trail of blood reach from further up stream, to where he had just woken. What had happened? Did he fall into the river and get washed ashore here? He could be anywhere. He needed answers, and sitting here wasn't going to produce any. Gradually he got up. His joints ached as if they hadn't been used for a long time; this with his spinning head made getting to his feet incredibly uncomfortable.

When he finally stood at full height he was able to see over the banks of the river. He could see little more than trees, hedges and farmland all around him. Suddenly there was some movement. He climbed to the top of the bank as quickly as he could, something that was a task unto itself due to the fact that his limbs refused to work properly. He looked again and saw a road cutting through one of the nearby fields. He started walking as fast as he could, frequently stumbling over the uneven ground.

As he closed, his fast walking broke into an awkward run when he heard a vehicle coming. He practically through himself over the hedge that was lining the road and quickly looked for the vehicle. There was nothing: not even a sound. But he was sure he'd heard a car. Perhaps this knock has made him start hearing things. Just then, he heard it again. He looked down the road in time to see a small car appear round a corner. He walked onto the side of the road and put his hand out to get the driver's attention. He waited nervously as the car approached rapidly; it's speed unwavering. He waved his hand as the car got closer and closer. "SHIT!" he called as he dived into the bank just before the car hit him. There was a squeal of brakes as the car quickly stopped. He heard a door open and someone running down the road.

"My god, are you all right?" the driver said as they helped him out of the hedge.
"You know, your supposed to stop before you get to me." He replied removing himself from the spiky bushes. They seemed to spark something in his head, yet he couldn't figure out what it was. Has he been in this position before?
"Good lord; your head. I'm, I'm so sorry." The driver said as they noticed the blood.
"No it's all right that wasn't...." He tailed off uncontrollably as he looked up into the eyes of a young woman.
"Sorry what was that?" she asked with a slight shake of shock to her voice.
"I, I said it's all right. You didn't hurt me. See the bloods dry." He said as reassuringly as possible. Once they had disentangled him from the hedgerow the woman helped him up.
"I'm sorry about that: I was getting my palm top out of my bag and I just didn't see you. Are you all right, you look a mess." the woman asked with a concerned look on her face.
"Yeah I'm fine, you just gave me a bit of a shock."
"What are you doing wondering out here with virtually nothing on?"
"That's the problem; I don't know. I woke up a few minutes ago by a river down there, but I can't remember a thing. I think I've got amnesia."
"Well we can't have you wondering around out here, you might get run over. I'll take you to a doctor; they can have a look at that head. C'mon, lets go." The two of them got up and walked over to the car. As they got in and did up their seat belts the woman suddenly turned to him, "By the way; I'm Helen, Helen Carter." She said offering her hand. He took it and they shook hands.
"You don't happen to know who I am do you?" he said with a slight smile. Helen had a careful look as they stopped shaking.
"Sorry. I don't think I've seen you around here." She said solemnly. She quickly pulled the hand brake off and the car gently pulled away.

The drive to the closest hospital was brief and informative. He found that he was in Lincolnshire and that Helen was a reporter for one of the local papers. She had been out looking for a farm for a story about some farmer who had changed his dairy into an ostrich farm. Now she had a scoop on a real story; he was pleased he could be of help. While he was being checked over by the doctor Helen had gone to the local police station to see whether there had been any reports of missing people.

"So you say you can't remember anything about yourself, let alone how you got hurt?" the doctor asked as he tried to clean his patient's head.
"No. Not a thing." He replied nervously as the doctor picked up a pair of scissors.
"Well you've got a bit of a mess up here; I'm afraid I'll have to cut some of this hair off if I'm to get a proper look at the wound." The doctor said already cutting some hair away.
"Do what you have to; I'm sure it'll grow back."
"I'm no barber, but I'll try and keep it presentable." The doctor carefully trimmed away as much of the clumped up mess as he could, with the occasional grimace from his patient. "Are you sure this is your blood?" the doctor eventually asked.
"I assure you, I'm not sure of anything. Why?"
"Well, I can't actually find any sign of a wound. There's plenty of scabbing; suggesting that there was one hear, but there's also no scaring."
"Well I woke with such a head ache that I just presumed that it must have been mine."
Just then there was a knock at the door. The doctor called to enter and Helen did so.
"So how is he doc?" she asked.
"Apart from some scratches, he's fine."
"What about his head?" she asked completely surprised.
"There's nothing there. I can't find any sign of anything that would have caused him to bleed that much."
"So where'd all the blood come from?" Helen asked double-checking the head to its owner's obvious discomfort.
"The only thing that I can think of is that he's punctured a blood vessel and the wound was so small that I can't see it, or even might have healed by now. Even the smallest wound to the head bleeds an alarming amount."
"You don't think he needs some sort of scan just to be sure there's no brain damage."
"Unfortunately this hospital isn't equipped with anything more than an X-ray department; there are some surgeries better funded than us." The doctor paused with a scowl on his face, "However, I could make you an appointment with Lincoln hospital; but there'll be a bit of a wait...."
"It's okay, I feel fine now anyway." The patient said standing up. He smiled at Helen and walked towards the door.
"Now if you have any nausea, or more headaches you come back and see me okay?" the doctor said sternly.
"Sure, I'll keep an eye on him." Helen said as they opened the door.

As they walked through the doorway the doctor turned and spoke into his intercom, "Sandra could you show Mrs Samson in please." The boy stopped suddenly and quickly went back into the room.
"What did you just say?" he called to the doctor.
"I just called the nurse to bring in the next patient." The doctor replied bemused.
"Yes, but what did you say; her name, what was it?"
"Trish Samson." He said quickly.
"What is it?" Helen asked the boy.
"Samson, it sounds familiar." He replied almost shaking.
"Do you think that's your name?"
"No, it's something else; something similar."
"Simpson?" Helen suggested
"No, it's shorter...."
"Sam?" the doctor asked. The boy looked round at him sharply as though the doctor had called him.
"YES." The boy shouted. "Sam, that's it!"
"Sam's a bit of an odd surname, it must be your christian." Helen added.
"Yeah, it is; I'm sure of it. It sounds so familiar."
"Well even if it isn't I suggest that you adopt it for the mean time." The doctor said. "But please, if you wouldn't mind leaving now; I do have other patients to see."
"Of course." Helen replied. She grabbed hold of Sam's arm and pulled him out of the room, "C'mon, we'd best go back to the police station and tell them your first name at least." They quickly left the room again, just avoiding walking into the next patient.

Sam and Helen entered the amply large police station and immediately walked up to the front desk. An officer behind the desk quickly closed the filing cabinet he was looking in and turned round to great them.
"Oh, hello again." He said, "I'm afraid we haven't had chance to start any investigation into your, erm, missing person wasn't it?"
"Well actually it was more of a found person, and I've got some new information." Helen replied gently pulling Sam up to the counter, "This is the young man I found."
"Erm, hi." Sam said looking a bit uncomfortable at the attention.
"Well, if you could just go through to the interview room behind you, I'll talk to the inspector and I'm sure he'll want to see the lad for himself." The policeman said gesturing to a door in the wall behind them.
"It's fine, I know the way from last time." Helen replied with a touch of sarcasm to her voice. She pulled Sam's arm slightly again and nodded towards the door. He got the idea and entered the room with Helen close behind.

Helen quickly sat down on one of the plastic seats and Sam followed suit next to her. As they waited Sam looked around the room-what there was of it. It was small and boxy with only a table and a few chairs in the way of furniture. The concrete walls were a dull grey, the blandness only broken by the occasional poster. Soon the door open and a middle-age man in a slightly scruffy suit entered.
"Ah, Miss Carter, you have some more information." He said in an authoritative voice that seemed to suit his position as well as look.
"Yes. Sam's remembered his name; or at least what he thinks is his name." Helen replied.
"Well that's good to hear. Ah, this must be the young man himself then. What did you say your name was? Sam?" he said as he smiled at him.
"Yes sir." Sam replied nervously.
"Now come on Sam, there's no need to be nervous. Where her to try and find out where you live, I'm not going to hurt you." The man's voice had changed slightly so that although it still commanded respect it also had a soothing effect.
"No, no sir. I know your not going to hurt me. I'm just a little bit scared about all that's happened."
"Now, now. We're going to sort all this out. And my name's Steve. They all have to call me Inspector Taggard, but seeing as though you only have a first name at the moment, I think it's only fair that you call be by mine." Steve smiled broadly showing his well-kept teeth. Sam smiled back uncontrollably, blushing slightly. "Now then," he continued, "you still don't remember anything else then Sam?"
"No. There's nothing before waking up by the river and effectively being rescued by Helen."
"Yes; Miss Carter told me how she found you. She also said that you were just at the hospital, what did the doctor say about your condition?"
"He couldn't find any evidence of a physical trauma. I declined the option to go to Lincoln hospital and have a scan; I seem to feel all right now."
"Good to hear it." Steve said as he smiled again. "Now unfortunately there's not a lot we can do with a case like yours. Without knowing any personal details, it's very difficult to track down where you live. However, I've spoken to Helen and she's more than happy to get a photograph published in the paper she works for. If any of your family or friends see it hopefully they will call us. If that happens I'll need to contact you so Helen has generously offered for you to stay with her until we sort all this out." Steve's voice suddenly became very serious as he continued. "Now Sam, you've got to understand: with the lack of information and the place you woke; it's very unlikely that we'll be able to find your family for a little while. There's a very real possibility that they might not even live in Lincolnshire, or any of the surrounding counties. You could have been washed for miles down river. But rest assured I will do all I can to find them, even if I have to follow that river back to its source." Steve placed his hand reassuringly on Sam's shoulder.
"Thank you." Sam replied. Steve smiled and nodded slightly in response.
"I think we've done all we can here." Steve said as he gently stood up and walked over to the door. Helen and Sam joined him as he opened the door for them. "I hope to see you soon." He said as Helen and Sam walked back into the reception area and Steve went through another door into the main of the building.

As Sam and Helen got out side she turned to him and asked, "Right, what now?"
"Erm, dunno." Sam replied shrugging his shoulders. His tattered pyjamas waved slightly as he did so.
"I do: we've got to get you some proper clothes."
"Oh no, you can't do that. I mean...."
"What, you gonna live in them for the next couple of months? Oh no, you need kiting out."
"But...."
"No buts." Before Sam could even open his mouth again Helen grabbed his arm and pulled him in the direction of the shops.

There was a large amount of rustling on the other side of the door, when it suddenly stopped and was replaced by the sound of a key entering the lock. The latch slid quietly into the lock while the handle of the door moved slowly. Suddenly the door opened and Helen burst in carrying several bags. She stumbled slightly before regaining her balance and slinging the bags onto a two-seat sofa just in front of her. She continued with her momentum past the sofa and into a room just beyond, the light flickering on just after she entered.
"Just put every thing down on the sofa there, we'll sort it out later. I need a cuppa." Helen said, her voice muffled slightly by the wall. Sam stumbled in shortly after carrying even more bags and several boxes as well. He quickly dropped his load as instructed sighing lightly and rubbing his sore hands. "Do you want a drink? I've got tea, coffee, coke, some squashes." Helen asked as she popped her head round the doorway, "I think I've got a couple of beers hidden somewhere." She added with a smile before disappearing again.
"No that's fine; the drink earlier was enough thanks." Sam replied having found the light switch and was now able to look around the room.

It was sparsely decorated, with a TV and bookcase at one end with the sofa opposite and a chair at a slight angle but still facing the telly. He walked over to the bookcase and looked over the few books adorning its shelves. Most of them were about being a reporter in one way or another, with a small collection of reader's digest novels. Sam picked one of them up and flicked through it. It was a double novel containing Call of the Wild and White Fang. Did he like reading? The title seemed to interest him; did he like the author, or just the content? It was so difficult to know what he liked or disliked when he didn't have any real feelings about anything like this. Shopping for his clothes was a nightmare as he struggled to decide on what he liked the look of. 'Normally you'd now what looked good on you,' he thought to himself 'but all I knew was that I wore pyjamas.'
"The contribution of my parents as I moved into my own house." Helen said as she sat down on the sofa with a cup in her hand.

She leaned her head back and groaned lightly, "There's nothing like a good shop," she quickly looked back up at Sam, "and that was nothing like a good shop!" Sam put the book back where he got it from.
"I'm sorry, I know I was really difficult, it's just that I don't know what I like any more."
"I know, it wasn't your fault. I suppose I got a bit embarrassed dragging a half dressed young man around all the shops. Some of those attendants gave us some really funny looks. Are well, we got there in the end."
"You know you didn't have to spend so much on me."
"It wasn't that much, and I'm sure I'll get any money back when we find your parents. And if I don't, you'll just have to be my slave until you've paid it off!" Helen looked at Sam with a truly evil grin. Sam's eyes widened as Helen continued to stare at him. He looked as though he was about to faint so Helen quickly stopped and tutted loudly, "Don't tell me you've forgotten what a joke is?"
"No, it's just that was a little too well done."
"I'm sorry, I suppose it wasn't the best joke at the moment. C'mon, lets go upstairs and get you settled in; looks as though you could do with a bit of a rest."

Helen grabbed as many of the boxes and bags as she could, while Sam grabbed what was left, and led him up the stairs. The landing was almost non-existent, leaving enough space for two bedrooms and a rather small bathroom. Sam's room was directly at the top of the stairs and was just big enough to fit a double bed and a wardrobe.
"I keep this one as a guest bedroom; although the only guests I normally have are my parents, and general storage-just don't look under the bed." Helen put all the bags she was carrying onto the bed and opened one of the draws at the bottom of the wardrobe, "If you just put it all in there you can sort it out tomorrow if you want."
"That's all right; I'll put it away now."
"If you want. The bathroom is that door there," Helen pointed to a slightly ajar door almost opposite from Sam's room, "and so that just leaves my room as this door." She pointed to the last of the three, which was almost next to Sam's but on a different wall. "I'm going to do a bit of work in my room, if you need a drink or anything to eat don't bother asking just go straight ahead and get it; after all, until we find your parents this is your home." Helen left the room and headed towards her own.
"Than you" Sam said just before Helen opened her door.
"No problem." She replied warmly. Sam smiled courteously and Helen nodded back as they both entered their rooms.

Sam set about clearing the bed of all the clothes. Helen had only bought him a few pairs of jeans and shirts, some clean underwear, a pair of trainers, a cheep coat and the necessary toiletries; but it was still more than Sam would have liked. He felt like such a heel, but there was nothing he could do about it. He might as well just get on with his life as best he could, see whether any thing else would appear in his memory tomorrow. Sam hung his shirts up in the wardrobe along with his coat, while he folded his jeans up and placed them carefully in one of the draws. As he opened all the packaging for his underwear and placed it all in the other draw, he could hear Helen cursing at her computer every now and then. Sam felt as though he should help but was unsure of what help he could be. The day had taken a lot out of him so despite the early hour Sam decided to go to bed. He added the clothes he was wearing to those he had just put away, switched the light off and got into bed. It seemed to be ironic that the only clothes Sam knew he wore, he didn't have; but even though Helen had offered to buy some pyjamas, Sam didn't want to her to spend anymore than was necessary. Despite the comfortable temperature of the room, the bed was quite cold. Sam shuddered slightly as the cold cloth slipped over his warm skin, but yet it was a soothing cold that served to make his eyelids grow heavy. Sam lay only for a brief while looking up through the window opposite and into the gaze of the three quarter moon, before slipping quietly asleep.

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Sam opened his eyes slightly before shutting them again and rolling over onto his side. He lay there for a moment revelling in the warmth and security felt over his entire body. Suddenly Sam smelt something wondrous. He didn't need any memory to realise the smell was that of frying bacon. His stomach rumbled ominously reminding him that he hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon. He quickly got up and got dressed, following the sweet smell of the cooking food down to the kitchen. Helen was just cracking an egg into a frying pan as Sam entered. Laid out on the kitchen table were two plates, both had generous portions of bacon, sausages and fried bread, a large pool of backed beans and a small pile of fried mushrooms. Sam was sure he was drooling and wiped his mouth with his hand. Just then, Helen turned around with the frying pan in her hand. She paused briefly as she saw Sam; obviously having not heard him enter.

"Oh, good you're up. I was just about to go get you. I thought a good old-fashioned English breakfast might make you feel more at home. You do like a fried breakfast don't you?" Helen asked as she slipped a couple of fried eggs onto each plate.
"Erm, I think so. Or at least the amount of water in my mouth would suggest that I do." Sam replied trying not to drool.
"Well don't just stand there, tuck in." Helen said as she placed the frying pan back on the stove then returned to the table and sat down. Sam quickly joined her and with great effort was able to eat his breakfast at a more civilised pace than he wanted to. "So how do you feel?"
"Much better." Sam replied between mouthfuls.
"Good. Have you remembered anything? You know; you might have dreamt something about your past."
"Not as far as I now. I don't remember any dreams I had last night."
"Are well, it was unlikely that you'd have remembered by now, but a good night's sleep often has a remarkable effect on problems."
"Even if it hasn't given me any help with my memories, it has made me feel a hell of lot better."
"Good. I thought that we might go back to where you woke up and see if there are any clues there as to where you came from."
"Good idea." Despite what Sam had thought to be a reasonable pace he still had finished his breakfast before Helen had even got through half of hers.
"Hungry?" she asked casually.
"Erm, yes I was. I didn't mean to seem greedy or anything."
"Oh, don't worry; after all we don't know how long it was before you ate yesterday. I'm surprised that you weren't hungrier."
"I suppose so. I'm just going to go and freshen up."
"Okay."

Sam left the kitchen and went up the stairs to the bathroom. Having shut the door, he stood for a moment looking at his reflection in the mirror. This was the first chance he'd had to have a proper look at himself up close. To have done so in any of the many mirrors that adorned the shops that Sam had visited yesterday would have produced even more strange looks. He looked carefully at all the details of his face, trying to find a clue to his age. There were no signs of any spots or blemishes, no sign of any real facial hair, although there was a noticeable fuzz to his top lip. His hair was a dark brown and had been cut yesterday, while his teeth were in immaculate condition; there were no fillings, no black spots of decay, not even the yellow taint that you'd expect for someone who hadn't brushed their teeth for even a couple of days. He looked deep into his own green eyes, trying to remember even the slightest detail; trying to look beyond the eyes and into his mind, to unlock the door that seemed so tightly locked.

He was suddenly pulled from his searching by a knock at the bathroom door.
"Sam. Sam, are you all right?" Helen asked from the other side.
"Oh, yeah, sure." Sam replied realising how long he'd been standing there.
"You sure. You've been in there for ten minutes."
"Yeah I know, I've just been, erm, thinking."
"If you're sure you're all right."
"Yeah, I'm fine, just lost track of time that's all." Sam hurriedly turned the taps on and put the plug into the sink. As soon as the water was high enough he put his hands in to get some water to rinse his face. Suddenly he pulled his hands back with a loud cry of pain. "Jesus Christ! Ow, ow, ow." Sam shook his hands wildly then put them under his arms trying to stop the burning.
"Oh damn, I forgot to warn you;" Helen's voice came from the other side of the door again, "the water gets quite hot so be sure to use lots of cold."
"Thanks." Sam replied sarcastically, still holding his hands under his arms. He slowly pulled his hands out and looked at them. They were all right; they were just as pale and soft as they had been, and the pain had gone. There was no stinging or redness you'd have expected from such hot water. The water! Sam snapped round and quickly turned the taps off just before the sink overflowed.

He opened the door to find Helen standing on the landing.
"Have you finished? I could do with getting in there." She asked quickly.
"Look at my hands." Sam said holding them out. Helen looked them over briefly.
"What? There's nothing there."
"I know that's the thing. I just burnt them with the water."
"Yes I know, I'm so sorry about that; I'm not used to having to explain this houses little quirks which I've gotten used to, but if you've finished I really need to use the bathroom."
"Oh sure, sorry." Helen moved past Sam into the bathroom and quickly shut the door. Sam stood for a moment looking at his hands some more, before going downstairs and into the room where he sat down. After a short while Sam heard the toilet flush and the sink empty, accompanied by an ouch. The sound of footsteps moved across the landing and then down the stairs.
"That water was HOT, did you not put any cold in at all?" Helen asked as she appeared round the corner rubbing her hand.
"No, that's what I was trying to tell you: I put my hands strait in, and they're all right."
"Well, different people have different resistances to hot and cold temperatures."
"I know, but it just seems weird to me; you know like it's not normal."
"You could have spent a day or so lying on that bank, or even in the river: that's sure to numb your senses a bit."
"I suppose so."
"Any way: you ready to go?"
"Go?"
"To the river."
"Oh right, yeah sure." Sam got up and they both grabbed their coats before leaving the house.

Sam walked slowly up the river, kicking stones every now and then, while Helen inspected a road map.
"According to this map, this river is part of the Welland. That's a pretty long river: it goes through several counties."
"Well I couldn't have travelled that far."
"It depends on how strong the current was really. Could have been miles or practically meters." Sam looked at the flowing river. It was strong enough to cause a white froth around the few boulders that stuck out of the water, but certainly wasn't any kind of a rapid. "The next county up stream is Rutland. Or at least it should be; this isn't a particularly recent map, which means that it doesn't have the recently re-established county." Helen looked up at Sam, "Right then, we have two options; one: we could follow the river up stream and be sure of getting the next village. Or two: we could use the car to go to the next village, which according to the map is Peakirk."
"Well if the map says it is; then it must be, right?"
"Unfortunately it's not particularly clear where this river actually goes. We could do with an OS map."
"I'm sure it's good enough. Let's get back to the car; being here again is giving me the creeps."
"Sure, there's nothing here that's useful." The pair started back to the car. "The river does go strait through Peakirk, and it's only a few miles away; so it's quite a good bet that's where you fell in."
"Maybe, the name doesn't sound familiar though."

Peakirk was a dead end. Despite spending most of the day there trying to jog Sam's memory and asking as many locals as possible if they recognised him; there was nothing of any use. By the time they wearily returned to Helen's house, it was well into the evening.

"Well that was a waste of a day wasn't it?" Helen said as she slumped down into the chair. "We must have walked around that village over a dozen times."
"I know, I'm sorry it didn't help." Sam said as he sat nervously on the sofa.
"It's all right-it's not your fault now is it? You just must have fallen somewhere else, well take a look at the next village tomorrow." Helen picked up a TV paper that was lying on the floor next to the chair and flicked to today's page. "But it's late now, and I'm sure there must be something on TV that you would like to watch?"
"I don't know. I don't seem to be able to remember even that." Sam slumped back with his hands on his head sighing loudly.
"Well, take a look." Helen threw the paper into Sam's lap. "While I go and take a look, at what there is to eat." Helen got up and walked into the kitchen while Sam picked the paper up and inspected the programs carefully.

After a lot of rummaging around from the kitchen, Helen popped her head round the doorway with a pizza in her hand. "You do like pizza don't you?" Sam looked at her with a sort of pitiful look on his face. "Let me guess; you don't know. Well let's try it shall we, after all, there surely can't be a teenager alive who doesn't like pizzas!" Sam smiled back at Helen.

Sam rediscovered several programs that night, from Star Trek to Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? -even though he had forgotten about himself, he still could answer a lot of the questions. Eager to find as many good programs as possible he stayed up until the early hours before involuntarily falling asleep.

The sound of letters being noisily posted through the letterbox woke Sam suddenly and he fell off the sofa he was laying on. As he regained his bearings and composure Helen quickly walked out of the kitchen and picked up the mail. She then just as quickly returned to the kitchen and Sam lazily followed. When he entered the room Helen was on the opposite end making a cup of tea, still in her dressing gown. A surprisingly slender leg flowed out from underneath the garment and Sam's thoughts wondered briefly before he quickly caught hold of them again.
"Would you like a drink?" Helen asked pouring the tea into her cup. Sam shook his head trying his best to focus on something else.
"Sorry what?" he said.
"I said: would you like a cup of tea?"
"Oh yeah, sure. Thanks." Helen got another cup out of a cupboard and poured some tea into it. She carefully brought both cups over to the table and put one on the opposite side to her for Sam. Sam sat down and sipped at his drink.

"I've got a surprise for you." Helen said smiling broadly. She reached over to the side and picked up a paper. She quickly turned it round and Sam saw a huge A4 size photograph of himself. "What do you think?" she asked still smiling, looking like she was a bout to burst out laughing, "You got front page look." Sam was dumbstruck; mainly because the photo was positively awful.
"Couldn't you have got a better picture?" he asked almost snatching the paper off Helen.
"Oh come on, I think you look cute." Sam looked at Helen unimpressed. "Well, at least people can't miss the article; we should find your parents in no time." Sam sighed loudly and read the accompanying article while Helen sorted through the mail. She stopped suddenly with a look of surprise on her face; "There's a letter here for you." She handed it too him.
"Me?" Sam asked as he took the letter. He looked at the name on the front; it had his name with care of Helen's address. He opened it and found an appointment card for a specialist at Lincoln Hospital. "I've got an appointment at Lincoln Hospital tomorrow." Sam said as he read a letter that was with it. "That doctor at the surgery decided to get in contact with the hospital anyway. He knows a someone there who has helped other people with amnesia and thinks he could help me as well." Sam handed the letter to Helen.
"That's good of him isn't it?" she said after scanning it quickly. "I'm not doing anything tomorrow, I'll be able to give you a lift. But if you'll excuse me I better get dressed." Helen got up with her cup in her hand and left up the stairs. As she passed Sam, he could swear that she was wearing some sort of exotic perfume, and it was causing his thoughts to wonder again. Sam tried hard to get a grips and shook his head vigorously.
"Stop it!" Sam said as he slapped the side of his head. Once he had regained control, he left the kitchen as well and went upstairs to freshen up.

By the time Helen had completed her morning routine Sam had turned on the telly and started watching an old black and white film.
"Is it good?" Helen asked as she entered the room.
"Not really. It's a soppy love story."
"Then why are you watching it?"
"I don't know if I like it unless I watch it, do I?"
"I suppose so." Helen looked at him suspiciously, and Sam smiled back.
"Well I'm off to the shops; there's not enough in the fridge for the two of us. You going to be alright here by yourself?"
"Sure, I'll just watch the telly."
Helen put on her coat and picked up her handbag then opened the front door. "There's nothing you want is there?"
"I haven't a clue."
"Okay then, I'll just have to get a bit of everything, after all we can't just eat pizzas and McDonalds for however long. I'll see you when I get back, don't you go burning the place down or anything okay." Helen said as she shut the door behind her, leaving Sam all alone.

Much to Sam's annoyance the film was unbelievably long and ended up eating the rest of the morning. Helen wasn't back and there was nothing of any interesting on the TV so Sam mulled around the house a bit. He looked through Helen's CD collection and played a couple on her positively ancient hi-fi system that was hidden in the cupboard of the bookshelf in the living room. Most of them were not to his taste: all ABBA and the Carpenters, with a couple of late 80's bands. However there were a few that tickled his fancy and he ended up getting a bit carried away with the volume; amongst over things. As he jumped around signing to one particular Queen track, he found himself face to face with a somewhat entertained Helen. He quickly turned down the volume and stood by the hi-fi turning a rather bright red.
"Having fun?" she asked smiling wryly. Sam looked at his feet, as he seemed to turn even redder. "Well, you can use a bit of that energy to get the rest of the bags out of the car and then help me unpack." Sam gladly went out to the car to try and hide his blushes.

Helen had already started unpacking when Sam returned with the last of the bags; the kitchen seemed to be full of them.
"God only knows how I'm going to get all this away." Helen said as she looked at all the bags.
"You didn't have to get so much, surely?" Sam said as he rubbed his sore fingers from carrying all the bags in.
"Yeah, well we still don't know what you like do we, it's no good getting something if you wont eat it and end up having to go hungry or worse.... like having to call out for a take away!" Helen replied and Sam smiled as he hauled one of the bags onto the top and started emptying it. "I stopped by the police station to see whether anything had been turned up."
"Anything?" Sam asked hesitantly.
Helen shook her head, "I'm afraid there was nothing. Not even a call about the article. I'm sorry Sam." Sam paused for a moment, not sure whether to be upset or not. Even though he was sad that he effectively didn't have any parents, he also had a feeling of dread, almost like he didn't want to see them again. Surely not, he must just be imagining it. He continued unpacking.
"I'm sure there'll be something soon, after all it's only been a couple of days since I woke up and the article was only this morning; got to let it get around a bit first."
"Sure, that's the spirit." Helen said as she searched for a place to put a jar of peanut butter.

Despite the seeming impossibility of the task, Helen and Sam got all the groceries away and then made themselves some lunch. When they had fished lunch, they continued the search for Sam's home with the next village upstream. However just like Peakirk, it was a dead end. Despite a long afternoon of asking questions, no one knew Sam or where he might have come from. Wearily and non-the-wiser Helen and Sam returned home and despite Sam's offers Helen made them both some dinner. After a brief time watching the telly, Sam decided to retire early after last nights TV fest.

Sam woke suddenly and turned the lamp by his bed on. He sat up and rubbed his face; it was covered with sweat. What was going on? Did he just have a nightmare? Try as he might though he couldn't remember any dream. He lay back down with his hand still on his forehead trying to cool down. Suddenly there was a loud thud at the window. Sam lay motionless, not even wanting to breathe, staring at the window; but there was nothing there. It happened again, then again; but still he could see nothing. Sam slowly got out of bed and tentatively walked over to the window. There was another thud and Sam stood perfectly still for a moment, looking out the window as best he could. He continued, moving a bit faster this time. When he got there, he peered out trying to see what was out there in the dark. Just then, something appeared directly in front of Sam and flew straight into the window with an even louder thud. Sam threw himself backwards with a yell and landed with a crash in the middle of the room. When he had realised where he was Sam scurried along the floor as best as possible. As he reached the doorway, he was just getting up when he bumped straight into Helen, sending them both back to the floor in a heap. They lay there for a moment trying to get their bearings. As Sam lay almost on top of Helen, he could smell that sweet perfume which he had smelt earlier. It was so intoxicating, and extremely sexy. He could feel his blood pumping harder as the smell entered every pore of his body. His arousal grew uncontrollably, and he looked deep into Helen's eyes as Helen looked back.

"Sam are you all right?" she asked.
Sam suddenly snapped out of his daze and shook his head. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. How are you?" He smiled slightly as he leaned back allowing Helen space to get up.
"I thought I'd lost you for a moment then." She said as she got to her feet.
"I'm sorry. It was your perfume; it just caught me off guard."
"I'm not wearing any perfume." Helen said puzzled, "And what do you mean 'caught you off guard'?"
Sam looked at her in an almost terror stricken panic, but remained calm as he could, "Erm, nothing." He replied calmer than he felt, as he shakily got to his feet.
Helen looked into his room briefly before remember why she had left her room, "What happened? I heard you yell and a loud bang. What were you doing on the floor?" Sam looked back into his room as well, but his gaze only went so far as the window.
"Outside, there was something outside; trying to get in through the window. Didn't you hear it banging?"
"The only bang I heard was you doing indoor gymnastics." Helen went into the room and over to the window. She looked as hard as she could, but could see nothing. "What did it look like?"
"It was a huge flying monster. It flew straight at me." Sam entered the room as well and turned the light on.
"No. Leave it off. You can see more...." Suddenly something flew into the window just in front of Helen with a light thud. She jumped slightly and turned to see what it was. She smiled as she motioned Sam to come over. He did so. "Now I know some people don't like them, but I'd hardly call them a monster." Sam looked at the small flying creature which was trying it's best to get into his room and the light which was in it. It was a moth. Nothing more, nothing less. Every now and then it would move away from the window and then return with a thud: as they do.
"But, but." Sam looked at it with speechless embarrassment, "But the noise, it was so loud. Almost deafening."
"It was just the silence of everywhere else which made it sound loud. Come on go back to bed. You'll see it better in the morning when you've calmed down." Sam had no choice but to do so. This all did seem a little odd; perhaps it'll be clearer in the morning.
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"Sam." Helen cried up the stairs, "Sam!" She waited a moment for a reply. When there was none she went up to see why. She stopped at Sam's door and knocked lightly. "Sam? Sam, are you all right?" Still there was no reply. Helen opened the door and entered the room to find Sam fast asleep facing the wall. Every now and then he would twitch, evidently having a dream. Helen sat down onto the bed next to Sam and shook him by his arm. "Sam, come on, wake up." He stirred slightly then suddenly opened his eyes and sat up.
"No. No, go away. Leave me alone!" Sam called out. Helen jumped back slightly to avoid being hit by him.
"Sam, Sam; calm down. You're okay, it was just a dream." Sam looked at Helen wide-eyed; obviously still under the influence of the nightmare.
"What, what?" Sam looked around seemingly in a daze. His gaze then snapped back to Helen. "Helen?" Realisation settled into Sam, "Helen." Sam hugged Helen tightly. After a moment to take in what was going on, Helen hugged Sam back. "Oh God Helen." Sam said trying to keep tears back while also trying to catch his breath. "They were after me. They almost got me."
Helen pulled Sam out in front of her, "Who almost got you? Who was after you Sam?" She asked trying to be as sympathetic as possible.
"I, I don't know. One moment they were people, then it was some kinda creature, then it would be people again. I, I just don't know." Helen pulled him close again as he could hold his emotions back no longer.
"It's alright Sam. It was just a dream; no ones gonna get you."

They both sat there for a while as Sam let it all out. Eventually Helen remembered why she had come up in the first place. "C'mon Sam, we've got to get you ready for this doctors appointment." She said as she unravelled herself from Sam's surprisingly strong grip. Sam looked at Helen sadly, then with a sniff wiped his eyes.
"Yes, yes of course. " he said getting up and out of his bed. I just needed a moment that's all; I'm alright now."
"Good. There should just about be enough time for a shower. I'll go downstairs and get something ready for when you come out okay?" Helen said smiling warmly.
"Yeah, sure; thanks." Sam smiled back as best he could. Helen nodded in reply then left Sam to himself.

Sam trudged down the stairs refreshed, but yet, still feeling a little off. He walked into the kitchen as Helen was pouring some milk into a bowl of corn flakes. She invited Sam into the seat in front of them. "There you go." She said as she returned the milk to the fridge. Sam sat and began to eat. "I thought that corn flakes would be a good generic cereal, as a cooked breakfast every morning kinda gets a bit expensive after a little while." Sam nodded his head as he swirled the cereal around. He picked some up and then let is slop back into the bowl. "Are you all right?" Helen eventually asked.
"Yeah, I'm just not that hungry that's all." Sam put the spoon down and pushed the bowl across the table.
"You sure, you look a little off colour." Helen walked over to Sam's side and put her hand on his fore head, "Jeez, you're burning up. I don't think you're in any state to go any where today." Sam looked at Helen strangely. "What's wrong?" she asked.
"You don't think I'm well enough to go to see a doctor?" Sam replied.
"Erm, you have a point there."
"Any ways, I don't feel that bad; just a little, erm, down; you know."
"Well, if you're sure." Helen looked at her watch, "Oop, we better be going if we want to get to there on time." They both grabbed their coats and hurried out the door.

Sam and Helen made the trip in good time and arrived early. After signing in at the reception and a brief wait, a doctor appeared and invited them into his office. Once they had entered, the doctor shook both their hands and introduced himself, "Hello, I'm Dr McCoy." He said as he shut the door. "Please, sit down." The pair did as asked while the doctor went to his desk and picked up a folder. "Now I've read Sam's notes which his doctor sent on to me and I'm afraid I'm not sure how affective my treatment will be. You see it looks like Sam's condition could be one of two problems: either he's had such a traumatic experience that his brain has shut down and along with hiding the experience has accidentally taken at least some of his long term memory with it. Or, if he has had a bad blow to the head that part of his brain could not be working properly. Unfortunately the latter is not as easy to treat and if too severe, well; he might never recover." Sam looked at Helen worriedly.
"Don't worry. I'm sure it'll be alright." She said reassuringly.
"Quite right; we very rarely see such cases." The doctor continued. " However, the first thing we've got to do is find out exactly which type of amnesia you have. This will mean conducting a few simple test."
"What sort of tests?" Sam asked feeling a bit uncomfortable at the prospect of being prodded and probed.
"Nothing too strenuous, just a few blood tests, for which we'll need some blood, and a couple of scans so we can get a good look at what's going on up there. We should be able to get the scans done today, and the blood samples will be sent off to be analysed. Depending on how busy the labs are we should get the results in a couple of days, a week tops." The doctor put the folder down and pulled a small trolley over to where Sam was sitting. On top were two empty vials and a syringe. The doctor picked up one of the vials and inserted it into the end of the syringe. "If you could hold you arm out please" Sam still looked a bit uneasy so the doctor smiled at him, "Don't worry; it's just going to be a small prick, try to think happy thoughts and it'll be over before you know it." Sam held his arm out and the doctor quickly inserted the needle. Sam flinched slightly then sat perfectly still as he watched the vial fill with blood. The doctor reached round to the other vial and picked it up. He then quickly removed the first vial from the syringe and placed the new one on the end instead. Once that one was full as well, the doctor removed the needle and placed both tubes back onto the trolley. "There, that wasn't so bad was it?" he said smiling.
"No, I suppose not." Sam said rubbing his arm. The doctor walked back over to his desk and pressed a button on the intercom system there.
"Now then," he said as he returned back to Sam and Helen, "that's the worst part over with. If you would follow me I'll take you up to the scanner." As they both stood up a nurse entered the room and walked over to the doctor. "Ah, could you label up these blood samples and get them shipped off to the labs for a full analysis." The nurse nodded, picked up the vials and left. "Shall we?" the doctor said leading the way out the door.

The scanner was on the top floor but one; which made the journey a bit of a struggle for Sam. During the trek, he developed a bit of a cough and frequently had to stop to catch his breath after a coughing fit. Eventually they reached the scanner and a nurse helped Sam on to the bed while the doctor and Helen went into the control room. When Sam was comfortable, the nurse followed Helen and the doctor and sat down at a console.
"Now then Sam, you just lay as still as possible, and don't worry, nothings going to hurt you." The doctor said through a speaker system. The nurse pressed a button on the console and the bed started sliding into the scanner. Sam coughed as lightly as he could as the machinery around his head started to humm. With a click, the scanner suddenly started to circle. In the control room, a picture of Sam's brain started to appear on the screen. The doctor looked closely at the image. "Hmm," the doctor said to himself "The resolution isn't particularly brilliant; who else has been using the scanner today nurse?"
"Just Dr Turner." The nurse replied as she quickly checked the machine's settings. "It was working alright then, and I haven't changed any of the settings since."
"What's going on?" Helen asked quickly, "Is the scanner broken or something?" The doctor turned to Helen and put his hands on her shoulders.
"It's okay, there's absolutely nothing to worry about; there is no way that this machine can hurt Sam. Sometimes the scanner can have difficulties getting through the skull, especially if it's a bit thicker than usual. All we're going to have to do is turn up the power so that we can get a clearer picture. It shouldn't affect Sam at all." The doctor turned back round to the console, "Right, if you could turn the power up," He looked round at Helen for a moment, then turned back to the nurse, "but slowly, okay?"
"Yes doctor." The nurse replied as she slowly turned a dial. As she did so the humming around Sam's head became louder and louder. Sam cringed as the humming suddenly turned into a high pitched squealing. Despite his best efforts Sam couldn't help but squirm slightly as the sound got higher and louder, until just before it felt like his head was going to explode; it stopped. The bed slid back out from under the scanner and Sam sat up quickly; coughing his guts out. The nurse walked out of the control room quickly and helped Sam to his feet. Once the fit had passed she lead Sam into the control room where he sat down on one of the seats.
"So what's the diagnosis doctor?" Sam said between coughs.
"Well, at first glance I can't see anything wrong with you physically. The only abnormality found was that a section of your skull is thicker in this part compared to the rest." The doctor circled most of the side of the scan of Sam's head. "Now that kind of difference would suggest that the bone had re-grown after a bad knock. However, since the area of re-growth is so extensive and is complete, this would have had to be done while you were young; probably just a baby. However, I'm still going to have to take a close look at these pictures to make sure I haven't missed anything, and I'm going to have to wait until I get the blood test back before I can make a proper diagnosis. I'll send you an appointment card as soon as I've made my decision, okay?" Sam got up and shook the doctor's hand before he and Helen left the room. As they got to the doorway the doctor called to them, "Now you take it easy with that flu. Stay in bed and drink lots of liquids."

On the drive back Sam's conditioned worsened, with Helen having to stop several times so Sam could be sick. Despite Helen's disapproval Sam wanted to check at the police station in case they had anything new, since it was on the way home, and he wouldn't shut up until she did, Helen agreed. The officer behind the desk was the same person who was there the first time they came, and he recognised Helen and Sam as soon as they entered.
"Ah, Miss Carter and Sam." He said as they walked up to the desk.
"That's us. That's a quite a memory you've go there." Helen replied smiling.
"It wasn't too difficult to remember; you're one off our biggest cases at the moment, and a right old mystery at that. I presume you want to know if there's any news?" the officer replied.
"Yeah, but, why a mystery?"
"Well, we can't find where this chap came from. We've looked everywhere, and yet no one knows him. We've been to every village, town, shop and school in the county with his picture, and nothing. It's as if he didn't exist. Anyways, I'll just go and see if anybody's got anything out the back." Helen and Sam watched the officer leave by a door at the back of the cubical. When the door had shut Sam's attention moved to a map of the county, which was hung on the back of the cubical, next to the door. He suddenly noticed a small drawn in dot along the river where he woke, between Peakirk and where Helen found him. Written in biro next to it was it's name, but it was too small to see. Sam lent over the desk in an attempt to get a better view.
"What are you doing?" Helen asked trying to pull him back.
"On the map, there's a village we didn't see on our map."
"Where, I don't see any thing...." Just then, the door opened and the officer walked back in with a folder in his hands.
"I'm afraid it's just as I said, there's no....., oi what are you doing, get down." He called to Sam as he noticed him on his desk. Sam quickly jumped back down.
"I'm sorry, I was just trying to see the name of that village there."
"What village?" The officer asked as he turned to face the map.
"There, that one that's in pen on the river where I was found." Sam replied pointing to the small dot.
"Oh, Hallham. That's a story and a half; we didn't even know it existed until a couple of months ago. Some rich geezer built a big house there a long time ago, sometime in the 1700's I think they said. He settled there and a small farming community built up around it. It's barely a dozen houses and it doesn't have a post office or a pub so it isn't even a village really. Eventually the guy died, or disappeared, or whatever and the house fell into disrepair; but the community's still there."
"Why did you go there?"
"Oh, some kid had been killed by a mad dog or something, we had a look around in the woods and what not, but there was nothing there. In fact; a couple of days later they said it was all right, they'd disposed of the dog and they didn't need any more help. It was quite strange really, almost as though there was something going on, but, you know. We did check there first, by the way; and despite a couple of bad reactions there wasn't anything there worth investigating."
"What do you mean; bad reactions?" Helen asked.
"Well, if they didn't slam the door in our faces, then they'd just clam up, or change the subject. Between you and me, I think that community is a bit too close; if you catch my drift."
"Wouldn't hurt to give that a quick once.... cough, o.... cough, cough, over." Sam was just able to get out before he broke into yet another coughing fit.
"Oh no we're not. I think we better get you home before you get any worse." Helen said helping Sam towards the door. "Thanks for the information any way." Helen said to the officer as she led Sam out the police station.
"No problem." He replied with a wave.

Sam was determined to check Hallham out, but Helen was unwavering this time and took him strait home. After a quick bite to eat, Sam reluctantly went to bed while Helen finished an article for her paper. Sam slept heavily for several hours until waking sharply. He lay for a moment in his bed, feeling the room with his eyes. Something was wrong. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he didn't feel right. He, he felt cramped, locked in; almost claustrophobic. He got up quickly and went down the stairs, through the living room and to the front door. He was just reaching for the latch when Helen noticed him.
"What are you doing up? More importantly what are you doing by the door?" She said swivelling round on the sofa to look at Sam.
"I, I just need some fresh air; that's all." He replied snapping his head round, but still turning the latch.
"I'm not sure you should be going outside in your condition, let alone at this time of night." Sam looked down at his watch; it was quarter to eleven. He slowly looked back up at Helen as he continued to open the door.
"It's okay, I feel fine now; besides I'm just going to be in the park out the front, not far."
"I suppose you do look allot better, and that cough seems to have gone; but I'm still not sure about you going out this late. Any one could be in that common."
"I'll be fine, don't worry-I just need to get out for a bit. I'll see you latter." Sam said as he moved quickly through the doorway and into the cold night air.
"But what about your shoes?" Helen called as Sam shut the door firmly behind him. "What on earth is wrong with him?" she said to herself as she quickly got up, grabbed Sam's trainers and opened the door. "You forgot your...." she stopped suddenly as she noticed that she couldn't see him anywhere. "Sam?" she said puzzled, "Sam, Sam!" she called progressively louder. "SAM!", but there was no reply; he seemed to have vanished, "Damn it." She said as she turned and went back into the house.

He walked aimlessly through the common as if in a daze; just taking in the night, the stars, the openness and freedom. He felt as if in his element. His attention was snapped briefly onto a couple as they passed by, holding hands smooching and whispering sweet nothings to each other. They reeked of Helen's perfume, so much so that it roared in his nostrils like a fire. No wait, it was something more than perfume; almost a feeling. Yeah, a feeling; of needing, wanting. A feeling of love. His blood pumped and his heart beat fast as he was suddenly overcome by a desire himself. A want to be free, free of all bonds and chains of civilization. He ran as fast as he could strait into the heart of the park. He clambered up the small hill there quickly and stood atop of it victoriously, arms stretched to the sky, heart pounding hard in his chest. He stood there for few seconds, the full moon beating down on him in the clear sky, before suddenly a pain shot through his body. He cried out in agony and fell to his knees clutching his stomach. The pain subsided for a moment and Sam was able to catch his breath, and his thoughts; his rationality snapping back into place. Then, another shot of pain rang through his body, then another and another. His body spasmed with each like he was being physically hit. The pain started to rise in his stomach as he leant on one arm; still clutching his stomach with the other. The fire in his stomach quickly spread over his entire body, seeming to settle just under his skin. The burning in his hands grew and he pulled one out in front of him. The back was quickly becoming covered in a dark shadow, no wait; that's no shadow-that's hair. His nails grew hard and bony in front of his eyes, before bursting out the ends of his fingers.
"What the hell am I!!!?" he cried out before being hit by another, even more intense wave of agony. It knocked him down onto his side. As another then another wave hit him, he rolled around on the floor until he reached the crest of the hill and uncontrollably rolled down the slope. As he tumbled back down the hill being buffeted by wave after wave of pain the inky blackness of unconsciousness spread quickly over him.

Helen stirred, then woke to the sound of running water. She sat up rubbing her eyes, then stretched and yawned. She got up off the sofa and followed the sound into the kitchen. There she found Sam standing over the sink piling as many dirty dishes into it as possible.
"You shouldn't be doing that." She said leaning on the doorway. "Leave it; I'll do it."
"It's alright, I just felt like doing something for a change." Sam replied without turning around.
"Well I suppose I oughtn't complain anymore in case you change you mind eh?" Helen said as she moved into the kitchen and over to the kettle.
"Hmm." Sam gave as a reply still keeping his attention on the washing up.
"So, what happened last night?"
"What do you mean?" Sam asked pausing.
"Why did you go out without you shoes, where did you disappear to, and when did you get back in?"
"Oh." Sam continued what he was doing. "Well, I forgot about my shoes, and, as I said last night; I went across to the park, and, erm; I didn't get in until just now...."
"What!?" Helen almost shouted as she pulled Sam round to face her. "You were out all night? Where did you sleep?"
"Well I didn't sleep, as such...." Sam trailed off as he uncontrollably looked down at his feet.
"How could you do that in your condition?"
"It's alright I feel fine now. It must have just been a twenty-four hour thing."
"I suppose you do look a lot better." Helen put her hand on Sam's forehead, "You don't have a temperature any more."
"I know, in fact; I feel on top of the world."
"That doesn't excuse staying out all night though."
"I know, I wont do it again; I just felt so, so cramped inside." Helen grabbed a cup off the drainer and dried it.
"Do you want a tea?"
"Sure, thanks." Helen grabbed another cup and dried it as well.
"Of course this sudden bout of 'wellness' isn't just to go and look at this village is it?" Helen asked suspiciously as she placed a teabag in the pot.
"No, seriously; I feel great now."
"Well, I suppose we better look at getting down there if we're to do any kind of snooping. After all it's gone twelve now." The kettle clicked off and Helen picked it up and poured the boiling water out into the pot. "I'm just going to get changed, and freshen up. If you pour out the tea when it's brewed and bring it up; we'll go as soon as it drunk, okay?"
"Sure." Sam replied eagerly as Helen left the room.

Helen and Sam entered the village shop and walked straight up to the counter.
"Can I help you?" the woman behind it asked, not looking up from some work she was doing.
"I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you knew this person?" Helen asked politely, pointing at Sam who was looking around the small shop.
"I'm sorry, what was...., that?" the woman stumbled as she looked up and saw Sam.
"We were wondering if you recognise Sam here?" Helen repeated. The woman looked between Sam and Helen for a moment before quickly opening the counter and moving through towards Helen.
"I don't know anything about it." She said harshly, "But I'm afraid you're going to have to leave now." The woman added as she forced Helen towards the door.
"What, but why?" Helen asked almost tripping over as she was lightly pushed back.
"It's closing time, I should have been shut ages ago." The woman successfully buffeted both Sam and Helen out of the door before either of them had time to argue.
"But, but...." Helen started.
"Good day." The woman said sternly as she near enough slammed the door in the pair's faces, then turned the open sign on the door around to closed.
"What was that all about?" Sam asked.
"Haven't a clue." Helen replied, "All I did was ask her if she recognised you, then she couldn't get rid of us fast enough." Helen and Sam both looked through the window of the shop. The lady inside had gone directly to the phone and was now frantically dialling a number in. Once it was complete, she turned round sharply and obviously noticed Helen and Sam watching her as she quickly pulled a large shutter down over the counter.
"I see what that officer at the police station was on about now, they are a bit weird aren't they?" Sam said smiling.
"Looks as though we're going to have to do this one door by door. Come on, best get started." Helen pulled Sam towards the house next to the shop.

As soon as she was in front of it, Helen rang the doorbell. After a short wait, the door swung open to reveal a middle-aged woman. "Hello, I'm sorry to bother you, but....."
"I'm sorry but we don't want what you're selling." The woman quickly said, cutting Helen off before she could finish her sentence. "Good bye." She added as she shut the door firmly. Helen had to quickly step back to avoid being knocked down. The pair looked at each other in astonishment before Helen rang the doorbell again. The wait was longer this time and when the door finally opened it was no longer the woman, but instead standing in front of them was a rather large stocky man, wearing a dirty boiler suit and a scowl.
"You two again." He said, "We've already told you that we're NOT interested."
"Yes, but we're not selling anything...." Helen blurted out as fast as she could before he shut the door.
"We don't care!" the man replied sternly, then began shutting the door. Helen quickly moved forwards and stuck her foot in the gap just before the door fully shut, making it so that it couldn't. The man peered around the door and through the gap, "Get you foot out of my door." Helen moved her face up to the gap so that she could talk through it.
"No." She said stubbornly, "Now look, we've come here to just ask some questions, not to sell anything, and not to make any trouble. I don't understand how you people can have such a problem with that. What have we done to get on the wrong side of you?"
"No, you look!" the man replied almost shouting, "You wont get ANY of the answers that you're looking for here, so I suggest you take yourself and that thing over there," the man nodded towards Sam with his head, "out of our village and leave us all in peace. Now get your foot, out of my door." The man promptly pulled the door open slightly then slammed it back into Helen's foot. She cried in pain and swiftly pulled it out the way, then collapsed to the floor holding her foot. Before Helen could look back up to hurl any kind of abuse at her assailant, the door was slammed shut and locked. Sam hurried to Helen's aid.
"This place is seriously spooky" Sam said as he helped Helen to her feet.
"They're definitely hiding something." She replied cautiously standing up, "Thanks. The question is; what is it? And was it just me or did he seem to know you?"
"I don't know; he doesn't seem familiar. Of course, he could just be mad. I would certainly recommend trying the other houses, just in case." Sam started walking to the next door along the street.
"Well perhaps not mad, but he definitely seemed a little eccentric. I suppose there's always one where ever you go, but the lady in the shop acted a bit weird as well." Helen said as she followed him.
"Perhaps this village is the home of the eccentrics, I mean, what could a small place like this be hiding? It's hardly a site for the mafia is it?"

They both stopped in front of the door of the next house and Sam rang the bell. They waited for an answer, but there was none. Sam rang the bell again and, again, waited, and waited, and waited and waited, until finally they gave up and moved onto the next house. Again Sam rang the doorbell and yet again waited for a while, and yet again there was no response. Helen rang the bell a second time as Sam knocked on the door as hard as he could, but still there was no answer. They both eventually moved onto the next house, then the next then the next, until they had tried every house in the street like village. None of them showed any signs of life, despite knocking and peering through each and every window they could. Every now and then Sam would stop and listen, sure he could hear someone moving around inside, but yet none of the houses appeared to be presently occupied.

Eventually they gave up and started back towards Helen's car, which was parked just the other side of a surprisingly large bridge. When they got halfway across they both stopped and looked back at the two rows of houses, and the large shape of a gloomy mansion just beyond.
"Well this place was no help was it." Sam said sitting down on the short concrete side to the bridge.
"It can't just be a coincidence that the whole village was out, all at the same time surely?" Helen added, sitting down next to him.
"Perhaps there was a fete, or village excursion." Sam suggested.
"But then why was the shop open, and that couple not go? This place has officially spooked me out." Helen replied standing back up. "Any way, we've spent far too long here, we better be getting back for some dinner."
"Sure." Sam agreed. He stood up and walked a couple of steps before stopping sharply. "Do you smell that?" he asked suddenly.
"What?" Helen asked back.
"That." Sam replied as he turned on his heals, then walked slowly back where he came from, sniffing the air.
"I can't smell any thing. What is it?" Helen asked again.
"I dunno, I suppose it smells of, erm, smells of...." Sam thought for a moment, "Blood!" He exclaimed snapping his head up to look at Helen. "It smells of blood"
"How can you smell that?"
"I don't know, it's very faint, but I'm sure there's been some blood spilled here." Sam knelt down by the concrete siding where he had just been sat and examined the floor. "There, look, can you see that?" Helen knelt down to see where Sam was pointing. Just where the road met the siding were a couple of dots of dark reddish brown.
"How on earth did you smell that?" Helen asked standing back up.
"I don't know....." Sam said to himself.

Suddenly there was a loud click of a shotgun being reloaded. Helen and Sam looked round to where it came from to see a man standing at one end of the bridge with a double barrelled shotgun in his hand, and he was blocking the way to the car.
"I suggest you move away from the creature miss; unless you want to get hurt. That is of course unless you've been corrupted as well; in which case please, stay where you are, there's a barrel for both of ya." The man said coldly.
"What the? Who the hell are you?" Helen asked grabbing hold of Sam around the shoulders. "How dare you threaten us."
"Who the hell I am, is none of your business, and I dare to end what I started a month ago." The man stared at the pair coldly as Helen struggled to find her voice. "Now step aside girl, or else you might be sent to hell along with that daemon. It is a blasphemy to that form."
"What are you on about?" Helen eventually asked, calmer than she felt.
"That 'boy' next to you is no boy, it is a daemon in another form; a werewolf. It mutilated a young boy no older than the one it takes the form of. There wasn't enough left to bury."
"A werewolf? Are you mad? They don't exist; they're just folklore, oldwives tales-superstition. I assure you this boy is not capable of hurting anyone, let alone killing them."
"Ask it where it was last night; when the moon was full. Ask it what it did all night." Helen looked at Sam for an answer, but he couldn't. Instead he stood there dumbstruck, unable to take it all in. Thoughts running riot within his head, trying his best to make sense of it all. What did he do last night? He couldn't remember.
"Sam?" Helen asked, breaking the unearthly silence created by Sam's inability to answer.
"I, I don't know." He said almost crying from his confusion.
"What do you mean you don't know?" Helen asked, trying to keep calm herself.
"I remember going out, going to the park, but then it's a blank, until I woke up in your garden. My clothes were completely shredded, so I snuck in through the back door, got changed and threw the others away. But I just don't know what happened in-between." A tear trickled down Sam's cheek.
"He said he couldn't remember killing the young lad either. But the mess he was left in, no creature could forget. Now step away!" The man raised the gun up to his shoulder.
"But that doesn't prove anything, he has amnesia, he could still be having problems remembering things done even as recently as last night." Helen argued.
"Selective amnesia more like. Now move away, NOW!" Helen could see the man's finger strain against the trigger.
"Sam, get down!" Helen called. Sam jumped to the side as a loud bang rung through the air. As he landed an intense, burning pain roared up his side as tens of tiny pellets ripped through his flesh. "SSSAAAMMM!!" Helen called, but Sam didn't hear her. He was able to sit up, the pain making him want to black out, but as he sat there dripping blood, the smell of burning flesh and searing pain was unlocking a memory. A memory of running from hunters, making it to this very bridge, then, as he jumped over the side, the crack of skull and splatter of brain tissue as his head was almost ripped apart by a shotgun. Falling over the edge, into the river as his thoughts became sluggish, the pain raised and unconsciousness fell. He remembered it all now, the mansion, the trick the boy; David, played on him, the painting, the anger, him killing David, even the face of the man before him.
"Dad, please, help me." He called, coughing blood.
"Dad! You're his Dad? How can you kill your own son?" Helen called tears streaming down her face.
"That is not my son." He replied, as solitary tear slowly trailed down his cheek. Helen saw his finger tense again, pulling the trigger. A shot rang through the air again as Helen dived at Sam, pushing him out the way just in time. She cried out lightly as she was hit squarely and thrown to the ground from the force of the shot.
"HELEN!" Sam called as she rolled on the floor.
"No!" Sam's Dad cursed. He promptly put his hand into his shirt pocket, pulled out two more shells and quickly reloaded his shotgun. "You will not get away this time!" He cried in an insane rage. He levelled his gun and took careful aim. Sam looked at Helen as she rolled onto her side. She tilted her head as best she could.
"Go, get out of here, quic-k-l-y." Her voice trailed off as the last vestiges of life left her body. Sam turned round sharply to find himself looking straight down the barrel of his Dad's shotgun. He mustered all the energy he had left and threw himself over the edge of the bridge. Concrete was thrown into the air as the top of the siding was shattered. There was a loud splash as Sam hit the water below and his Dad ran up to the edge to finish him off, but by the time he had got there, Sam had been washed away, out of sight.

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