Welcome to The Interactive Novel.
Read Part 1 and then vote on what happens next. This is the abridged version of part 1. If you would like to listen to the full version of Part 1 please go to www.interactvienovel.co.uk .
The Interactive Novel follows fifteen year old Nichoas Briggs, assistant to Professor Ashcroft debunker of the supernatural as they investigate paranormal mysteries in Victorian Britain.
Thursday, 11th January 1861
Mr Aldecott still breathed. That was all he managed. The stroke had been cruel. His condition had deteriorated and now nobody expected him to live through the night. His family gathered around his deathbed while an elderly doctor examined him. Professor Ashcroft leant against the mantlepiece watching. Feeling as if we were intruding I gazed out on to the streets of London. The storm showed no sign of abating.
“Nicholas,” the Professor called.
I turned back to the room. Except for Mrs Aldecott, the rest of the family were leaving. I took one last look at the dying man before following the others out of the room. Edward, Mr Aldecott’s son, led the Professor and I into the billiards room.
“My father believes that our family is cursed,” Edward said
“What sort of curse?” the Professor asked.
“Are you familiar with the Irish Beansidhe?”
“You mean a banshee?” the Professor said.
Edward nodded. “My father believes that the male line of our family is haunted by a banshee. He is convinced he heard her wail at the death of our grandfather. If he is right and he does die tonight, then the banshee will come for him.”
A sudden howl of wind reminded us of the storm outside. The two men looked at each other, sharing the same thought; that on a night like this it was all too easy to believe in ghost stories.
Professor Ashcroft snorted.
“For years I have been studying the supernatural and I am yet to see any evidence of anything that cannot be proven without a scientific explanation.”
A groan of disbelief escaped my lips. The Professor looked up. I coughed. “Something in my throat.”
The Professor scowled at me. “Do not worry. I will stay on hand this evening to witness any visitors that choose to visit him.”
With that the Professor and I returned to Mr Aldecott’s room.
The Professor headed to the bed to inspect the man within. “No change. We will take it in turns to keep an eye out for this banshee.”
“I thought you said there were no such things as banshees?”
“It was a joke. I suggest you get some sleep. I will do the first watch.”
I made a nest of sheets on the floor beneath the curtains. I closed my eyes and listened to the rain tapping against the glass and the wheezing of the dying man in the bed.
I woke with a start. The Professor sat asleep in the chair. I turned to the dying man. The moisture in my throat evaporated. Mr Aldecott lay wheezing in his bed – but he wasn’t alone.
An emaciated woman leant over him. She looked as if she had crawled from a grave.
Mr Aldecott moved his head eagerly towards her. The spectre bent down to meet his lips. Desperately he kissed the spectre back. Mr Aldecott began to shudder. The spectre pulled her shrivelled black lips away. Mr Aldecott collapsed. His chest rose no more and it would never do so again.
Then the spectre glided towards me. I had been mistaken. She was not a skeletal hag but the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She smiled and I forgot my fear. The death of Mr Aldecott was unimportant, the Professor snoring in the chair an irrelevance, all that matted was this beautiful woman.
Smiling like an idiot I stepped forwards wanting to kiss her. Then before my eyes the glamour lifted. The spectre I had seen leaning over the bed returned.
I scrambled away. I looked back and the beautiful woman watched me. I tilted my head and she turned back into the corpse. I straightened my head. The beautiful woman reappeared. She was both the hag and the beautiful woman at the same time.
“Do not fear me,” the banshee said. “You have worse to fear. For a surprise visitor seeking help will set you on a dangerous path. Death stalks your future.”
The banshee let out the most pitiful scream I had ever heard. I shut my eyes.
The scream ceased and the banshee was gone.
“Mr Aldecott?” the Professor said racing to the bed. He felt for a pulse.
Summoned from all over the house by the banshee’s wail, family and servants rushed into the room. The Professor shook his head.
“I am sorry.”
The family broke into tears
“Come along, Nicholas,” the Professor said.
I followed the Professor back to the billiards room.
“Is there anything you would like to tell me?” the Professor asked.
“I saw the banshee. She killed him, screamed, and vanished.”
“There is a reasonable explanation for this.”
“There is?”
“You had a vivid dream.”
The door opened and Edward entered the room.
“We heard the scream. Did you see it? The beansidhe?” Edward asked.
“The scream came from my assistant Nicholas,” the Professor said. “It seems he had a rather vivid dream, and he woke with a scream. The fact his scream coincided with your father’s death is a coincidence. As for the beansidhe I can assure you that your father was not visited by such a thing. I was in the room, and I did not witness anything out of the ordinary.”
Friday 12th January 1861
“Forget about the bad dream and congratulate yourself on a job well done,” the Professor said.
I gave a weak smile.
We had just returned to the Professor’s house. Gertie Stubbs greeted us in the hall. At fifteen Gertie was a few months older than me and worked as a maid in the Professor’s house. She was my closest friend and the only one I could tell the truth to about the supernatural incidents I witnessed.
“There is a guest waiting in the parlour,” Gertie said.
A feeling of dread crept through me. I knew with a certainty they were the surprise guest seeking help that the banshee had warned me against…
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