#The Wych Elm Road Incident

[the-tales-of-horror]

The Wych Elm Road Incident 

Original Link By OozyGoosey

I have lived in a small south-west village in England my entire life. It's an alright place, but like a lot of villages in England there is nothing to do at all. There is one play ground near the primary school and everyone under 13 goes there, while anyone over 13 would hang out at the petrol station near the entrance to the motorway. Depressing right? But that's all we had. Unless you had the money to get the train to London, you better enjoy the smell of diesel and the sound of mopey young adults. Back in the mid-nineties, I was one of these mopey young adults, and my cousin Kevin was one of the under 13 year olds. Kevin was a quiet and quirky kid. He loved collecting stuff and always had two or three of everything, such as wearing two watches on one wrist, or wear five different necklaces like Mr. T. As he was only 3 years younger than me we were quite close and my friends didn't mind him hanging out with us at the petrol station. It was a Friday when the incident happened.

After school, I returned home and put on a tracksuit to go to the petrol station. I was walking down the street when Kevin appeared on his bike. His face was bright pink, but he wasn't tired. He was crying, or at least sobbing over something. He came to a stop in front of me and held his breath to conceal the crying.

"What's up mate?" I asked. Kevin and myself are more stone-faced types when somethings wrong so I wasn't used to it.

"Nothing... We going to the shop?[what we called the petrol station]" Kevin snivelled. I knocked and started walking again, he peddled slowly to stay by my side. My friends were already at the petrol station and we continued on our conversation about Independence Day and how we should all go see it on the Saturday. Kevin calmed down a bit thanks to the mundane conversation. His sulking mood returned when a group of boys came into view of the petrol station. Kevin became anxious and hid himself behind my friend and I.

"Who're they?" I asked him. He didn't answer but I could tell they were the reason behind the crying. I'm not sure how, but I assume they saw his bike (a bright green frame, stands out a lot) and realised it was him and began shouting to him.

'Oi, cunt!' 'Keeeeeeviiiiiiin' 'You fat prick!'

My friends and I glared at the group of boys. A few friends were shouting back at them to fuck off but they persisted.

"What happened, why are they shouting?" I asked Kevin, who's face was returning to a shade of maroon.

"We were playing football during PE and I scored an own goal." He sniffled.

"... That's it?"

"They've been doing this for a few weeks now. It just gave em a reason." Kevin said quietly. He obviously hadn't told anyone else. It turned out, that one of those boys (I think his name was James) took a disliking of Kevin after he snitched on him for throwing something at a teacher. Before that, they hadn't so much as said a passing hello. Since then, for about 3 weeks James and his little crew of mates decided to make life miserable for Kevin, targeting literally everything about him and everything he did. Kevin enjoyed Dungeons and Dragons, and if he so much as mentioned anything relevant, the boys mocked him. They attempted to wreck Kevin's bike by bending the wheel while it was locked up outside school, but a teacher caught them, so they took it out on Kevin. The poor kid was terrorised just because he had a good conscience.

I got my friends to surround Kevin so the group of boys couldn't get too close but we couldn't stop the shouting. My friends were laughing at the boys; this riled up the young teens even more. James, or who I guess must have been James, came forward and said he wanted to speak to Kevin alone. My friends laughed in his face and told him to get stuffed. The boys behind James began to pick up rocks and aimed them in Kevin's general direction. This meant that a bunch of 13 year olds were throwing rocks at 16-18 year olds and they didn't like that too much. A brawl broke out between a few of my and James' friends. Kevin panicked as he watched one of the elders knock out a youngin and he hastily peddled away, away from the petrol station and headed towards Wych Elm road. I called out to him but he was far away by the time I got away from the mess he indirectly started. My friends were beginning to walk as the group of boys whined and started to leave themselves. I walked home with one friend and told my dad what happened. He just shook his head and told me not to worry about Kevin, he just needs time to cool off.

The next morning, I woke up to the worst possible news. Kevin didn't return home. This wasn't too worrying in the nineties, especially in a small village where it's impossible to go missing, kids stayed out until all hours and eventually came home. Kevin's mum, however, was a big worrier and went out to look for him around 11pm - this would have been at least 3 hours after he left us at the petrol station. She went to his best friends house first and he hadn't seen him since school. She then went to 2 other houses, no one had seen him. Driving home, hoping to see him along the way, she did just that when she went up Wych Elm road. He was sprawled out on the side of the road, partially hidden by the undergrowth of the woodland. His bike was beside him, glittering neon green and completely bent out of shape. His body was the same way. He had catastrophic injuries, including massive head trauma, a broken neck and spine and he had lost his right arm. He looked like he had been flung about like a ragdoll. Word around the village was that a drunk driver was speeding and hit him head on, as he came one way and the driver came the other. His mother was a total wreck after finding him. The police set up an investigation but there was no speed cameras or security cameras close by enough to get an idea of a suspect, so the case essentially went cold. It was just a horrific tragedy.

You may have already guessed, but this hit me hard. I had no siblings, and neither did Kevin. We only had each other and now one of us was dead. Our school held a mass in his honour. I saw James and his crew a few times after that and James always looked distraught. His friendgroup thinned over time and the last time I saw them the group of probably 15 was down to James and two other boys. It was never said aloud, but I think a lot of people blamed James for what happened. Everyone knew they weren't on good terms so rumours grew quick. At the time, I didn't blame him but I didn't feel sorry for James. It sort of was his fault - if he didn't bully Kevin, he wouldn't have cycled away to his death. Over time, I've moved past that thought but I'm sure it's still with James.

The village seemed silent after Kevin's death. It was probably due to my emotions, I didn't notice the world moving on without me. I visited my aunt a few times but she could barely look at me (Kevin and I looked quite similar) without breaking down. After one visit, my dad stayed to console his sister and I went for a walk. Without telling anyone, because I'm sure it would have either angered them or upset them, I went to visit where my cousin died on Wych Elm road. I felt like it would give me closure, and it did in a way I never expected or could have ever came up with in my worst nightmares.

The spot where he was found was still covered in flowers and Southampton FC shirts and a few small Dungeons and Dragons figurines from his d&d group. I had a little cry over all the cards for him but I just wanted to sit and breathe a little. The road was usually empty, but like the rest of the village it was in a state of silence. Even the chirps of birds was minimum. I was sat on the tarmac of the road, facing the memorial items and was thinking of nothing when I saw something move. The undergrowth hid whatever it was well, but it was there. My emotions instantly came to one conclusion - it was James, or one of the other bastards he called a mate. I jumped up and started yelling my head off. The figure rushed off into the woodlands. I grabbed a nearby stick and launched into the woods. I was overcome with anger and marched into the undergrowth, following the figure in a blind rage. It wasn't until I was a few metres into the undergrowth I realised something. The figure was on all fours.

I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at the figure as it slowed down. It was moving so awkwardly. The hind legs were long but bent out so it could stay low to the ground. It looked frail and gaunt, with a blueish tint to it's almost transparent skin. Patches of mattered fur were strewed around the body as if most of it had been torn out, like when a dog has fleas. It stopped moving and tension filled the air as it began to turn towards me. I thought it was a man in a costume when it started making the noise.

glick...glick...glick glick......... glick glick glick glick... glick

It turned it's gaunt body towards me and its hard to describe the feeling I felt. The purest form of fear. It's neck was long, enough for it's head to turn almost 270 degrees, as it stared at me with it's head almost completely upside down - it's jaw chattering from the noise it made. There was no fur on it's front or neck. The skin of it's face was especially thin and gaunt, and it's eyes were sunken into it's head. It didn't blink once when I was looking at it. It was something from a literal nightmare, but while standing there like a free meal I noticed something. It's right arm wasn't the same blueish shade as the rest of it's body. It was a pale colour and much shorter fingers than the other arm, which had stick like ones. I finally came to notice, at the bottom of the wrist, sat two watches.

Kevin... I thought. Those are Kevin's

It was Kevin's arm, somehow attached to this god-awful creature. By the time the shock faded and adrenaline kicked in, the creature was already fleeing. I turned and just sprinted. My heart was pounding and I began to cry. I just kept running, without looking back. As I came out the undergrowth I almost knocked over the memorial. I ran down the road and through the streets until I go to my aunts house. I burst through the front door and my dad and aunt were watching Eastenders. I was about to blurt out about what I saw but then I thought.

They won't believe me, and they'll think I'm trying to make a joke about Kevin's death

I just said I went to see all the memorial stuff and got upset. My aunt cooked me some dinner and my dad and I returned home. I never told my dad about that day, or anything for that matter. I feel awful because my aunt will never know the truth about her son, but I honestly don't think she'd want too.

[montpahrnah]

hp fic recs

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