For my entire life, I’ve lived in a small British town by the name of Wallsend.
Quite an unusual choice of name for a town, isn’t it? This topic is often brought up by the few visitors we can boast here, and every single time we dispatch it with the same old: “Emperor Hadrian built a wall to defend his territories in Britain during the Roman age, and it ends here, hence the name Wallsend.”
That, of course, if they don’t know already. After all, there are usually two reasons why a foreigner visits this settlement: to reach the much bigger city that’s very nearby, or to satisfy their passionate love of history. Both kinds of visitors are certainly a pleasure to host here–it can get pretty lonely at times, especially working as a bartender as I do, if there’s nobody to serve– but lately I started reevaluating the idea of loneliness.
Maybe it’s for the better if this place is left basically uninhabited.
Don’t get me wrong, I really love this town. It’s not because of the Wall of Hadrian itself, or what’s left of it, even if by now I know enough trivia about it to fill a history book.
Did you know that it never, in any point in history, marked the border between England and Scotland? As long as the former has existed, Wallsend and by extension the wall have firmly been in English soil and that won’t ever change. Of course, unless Scotland invades, which I’m finding more and more believable with how British politics has been going. Sorry, these are just the jokes of a thirty year old bartender that loves to read the news during the morning, as he opens his rusty bar for yet another day.
Seriously, though, I love Wallsend more than my life. This city and its inhabitants have been there for me during my lowest points, and I wouldn’t leave it for any reason, but the most recents events in this town have left me shocked. There is a seriously concerning issue.
Please, do not walk outside at night, even if you’re in a big group. It’s not safe.
Let me explain myself.
As I might have said before, our town is a rather normal one. Events out of the ordinary here are as a rare as a four-leaf clover, so rare that a toddler getting their head stuck in a potty is considered front-page news.
There also haven’t been any new neighbours for a while; actually, if I could say so, it seems like the population is diminishing.
I can count on one hand the faces I have never seen when I hang out in the day and head to the harbor. Shockingly we’re almost thirty thousand, so my skill is more advanced than it seems at first glance, but I guess that’s the perk of having a job that allows you to be in close, very close contact to others.
But, as I was saying, things aren’t the same lately. News of toddlers and drunkards have been wiped off the newspapers completely since a week ago, leaving space to much darker information.
Murders are cluttering the city. They happen in the dead of night, when few dare walk down the same streets that are crowded during the day. People I know, familiar faces, gone in the blink of an eye. The kind of thing you wouldn’t believe if you don’t see it with your own eyes.
Most local newspapers have mentioned the term “disappearances”, because no body has been found so far. But trust me, I know that all these events, they’re cold blooded murders.
During the day, when the streets are safe and the Sun is high in the sky, I follow my usual routine.
I buy a newspaper at the local paper shop, then head near the harbor, where my small but lovely bar stands. It’s at such a small distance from the sea that, if you put your mind to it, you can even hear the seagulls’ sounds.
Today, though, my routine was a bit different. As I grabbed my newspaper and paid for it, I told Jack that there has been another murder.
He, who greeted me with his usual friendliness, had his face soon turn pale and tried to dissuade me again from such thoughts.
“It’s normal for people to want to leave this place,” he said with the faintest smile, “you should be thinking about it too by now. You’re far too young to rot in this town. Year by year, there’s less youth.”
I read the news and I knew the drill: people seem to be leaving small towns these days. This has been a pressing issue for our lovely settlement, which seems to shrink by the daily. People that were here ten or twenty years ago now are gone, but they always said bye when they left.
These people haven’t gone to London or Newcastle, or else they would’ve said it. They are dead.
I think my dear friend Jack, who has lived many years more than me, was also keenly aware of that. That’s why, if this was a situation I could laugh at, I would have.
Instead, I just found it depressing that a bright and kind individual like him, who’s been used to living the same life since he was born, couldn’t possibly accept something that makes him doubt the normality of this town, even if it’s as clear as day.
“Are you trying to escape reality or to calm me down?” I whispered under my breath and luckily wasn’t heard.
Instead, I said something else.
“Jack, please… how’s it possible that a ‘voluntary disappearance’ has happened for the third time this week? With four more during the previous one! Maybe one or two chose to leave on their own… but what about the others? There’s no way they all left.”
“Man, Marcus, you need to stop overthinking it. You don’t need to be this nervous.” Jack smiled at me and put a hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me down. His characteristic long and unkept brown hair hid his facial expression, but he didn’t seem to be all that composed either.
“These newspapers are stressing you out. Had I known this before, I’d– I’d have never sold them to you. Don’t come next time, I won’t…”
“That’s okay.”
“Huh?” He muttered, surprised.
“Yeah, it’s your paper shop. You can do whatever you want with it. Don’t worry, I get it. I’m not mad.” I smiled at Jack’s tangible demonstration of friendship. I didn’t want to scare him or to worry him. All my attempts were aimed at making sure he was safe.
“You can leave and visit your hometown if you find this place unsafe. I don’t know where it is, but I’m sure there’ll be relatives waiting for you. Rather than stressing yourself out, stay there until the waters calm down. It’ll be a nice break.”
As usual, Jack gave me the most careful advice he could. He wasn’t sure whether he should believe my words or not, but that didn’t put a dent in our friendship for him.
I’ve lived here for so long that only a few people know, but I wasn’t born here.
I just moved to Wallsend when I was very young, but its inhabitants made me feel at ease and accepted me as one of them.
That’s why I’m not leaving, ever. It would be physically impossible to do so, at least for me.
“You know I won’t, but you should. You told me your cousin has planned her wedding down in Manchester a few days ago. That’s perfect, you should attend! Stay there for long, if I can advise it.”
Jack sighed. “I’m an old man. I don’t want to leave Wallsend, relatives I’ve barely met can go to Hell.” He laughed and, in spite of his almond-coloured hair covering his face and his almond-coloured beard covering his mouth, it was clear to me that his smile was sincere.
“That’s no way to call your cousin Mandy, is it?”
“You know more about her than me, and she has visited this town for about four days, and it was two years ago. Have you slept with her or what?”
“She has a fiancée.” I just answered, trying to wipe the smile off my face. He was trying to make the conversation lighthearted. He didn’t take me seriously at all, but there was a message I needed to convey to him.
It was my turn to sigh. “But please, stay safe at night. Even if you don’t believe me, do it because you trust me.”
“I–”
“Yes, you normally don’t enjoy the night life anyway, I know Jack. How long have we known each other for?”
As I speak that sentence in the most joyous voice I can muster, his unique blue eyes light up and his tone becomes more relaxed.
“You’re right. I’m sorry for acting like that, it’s just– you know. I don’t think these are killings. They’d have found a body already.”
I almost roll my eyes. He trusts me, but enough to believe my words without any proof. That isn’t something that I can blame him for, is it?
“That’s true, but promise me. Just to make me feel at ease.”
Silence. Two, maybe three seconds of silence paused the fast flow of our conversation.
Then, he spoke again.
“How many people have you asked to stay home?”
His blue eyes, that had refused to look at me for the entirety of the dialogue, now stared deep in mine. He wanted to check if I’d lie.
He could’ve sensed it, we knew each other pretty well.
Countless. Countless people. That should have been my answer.
Unfortunately, the words remained stuck in my throat.
I was fully aware of what the consequences of saying it would’ve been. Jack glanced at me with eyes full of suspicion once again, just as I thought we had solved the issue.
“You can’t do that! You’ll get everybody anxious and scared! Over nothing!”
“Then, would you rather see them anxious or disappear?!”
I screamed that at the top of my lungs, scaring him for a second.
Some more silence as I cursed myself. One, two, three… still no voice. He must’ve been very surprised.
Since I arrived here, I had never shouted. It was just not ‘a me thing’, I guess. I was used to speaking with a low tone of voice, and that tranquility was much of the reason why people felt at ease with me.
But now Jack’s brows furrowed as he stuttered trying to find the right words.
He was so estranged by my behaviour that I wouldn’t have been shocked if he chose to punch my face by then.
“E-ehm…” He just muttered. I could feel part of my heart breaking, prepared for what was about to come.
So, I just chose not to listen.
“Jack, have a good day. Remember what I’ve said,” I just muttered and took my leave.
“N-no! Wait!” He screamed after seemingly having unfrozen, but my feet were already moving fast and bringing me out of the shop.
I sighed when I closed the wooden door of the old trusty place behind me. I sighed because something told me this talk had been a failure.
A sunny morning passed in the blink of an eye. So did a fairly cold afternoon.
And now it’s night in the town of Wallsend. My conversation with Jack, which happened this morning, feels like a second ago as I close out my bar at 2 AM.
Before turning off the last of the lights, I glance outside of the window for one last time, being pleasantly met by houses full of people, as testified by the lights, and empty streets.
For what I would’ve liked, this day was too eventful.
Too many youths in my bar when it was already far too late— that was the biggest issue, outside of the fight with my dearest friend.
Still, this is a good result.
I’m walking through the streets of Wallsend at night, glad that I can’t see anyone. I guess they really listened after all. Maybe it’s just that I closed my bar too late today, but I can’t see anyone.
I hope I can get to home safely.
As I think that, satisfied with how the day has gone, I walk by the harbor and get further and further from the sea.
No voice of man, woman or seagull can be heard anymore. That’s until the silence that has accompanied me is broken once for all.
Unkept brown hair, unique blue eyes, a tall man with a stoic expression that’s betrayed by a faint smile.
“Marcus, you shouldn’t be here.” It’s a deep voice, whispering in the dead of night. “You told me to stay safe, but you’re not staying safe yourself.”
Oh no. Please, don’t tell me.
He looks at me from the height of a ramp of stairs. Behind him is the main street of the city, recognizable for its length and its dark black concrete. Behind me is just the harbor, and no lights.
He couldn’t see me if he wanted to. I guess he just knew it was me.
“Jack, why are you here?”
He laughs. It’s the only thing that can be heard–I suppose everyone’s sleeping–and that thought really terrifies me. Nobody could hear a scream now.
“I felt I should make up with you, since I didn’t treat you like I should have this morning.”
No, please no. The familiar face of Jack gets closer and closer. I can hear his footsteps walking down the stairs at a slow pace, as his grin widens. He begins to see my terrified face now that it’s no longer covered by the absence of light and doesn’t move an inch.
“I just wanted you to know that, yes, I get it. You just care about me. I shouldn’t have been this suspicious about it. I’m sorry.”
His face shows real regret, along with confusion. He can’t understand why I feel terrified, can he?
“Jack, please, you have to leave!”
His only reaction is a hearty laugh. I guess that his laugh is the second thing that I envy him the most, the first being his British accent.
But right now, it’s everything that I do not wish to hear. I want to scream out, to tell him to go away and save himself, but it’s far too late.
It was already over when he left his house.
“Oh, you’re at it again! It’s just us two!”
“Yes, that’s why… you have to leave…” I say, my voice cracking. I’ve tried to contain it, but as I get older it gets older.
As I get weaker, it gets stronger. This city… it empowers it. The name of this town has a meaning and it really wants to make sure everyone understands it.
There’s a crack in my face. Dark blood starts seeping out.
“Mark, are you okay?” His eyes suddenly become full of concern as he runs close to me after hearing my screams.
“Don’t do it!” I shout. My hands are already out of my control, I’m shaking uncontrollably and I fall to the ground in a desperate attempt to stop it. But Jack does not realise.
Instead, like the great friend he is, he keeps running to me. That seals his doom. I can try begging him more, but it’s the same as everyone else. Everyone here is lovely, far too lovely–perfect prey.
Jack notices too late and his reactions shifts considerably.
“What is this?! What are you?!” He screams out, but soon enough his mouth is covered. It doesn’t want him talking late at night, outside of his house. It’s letting me know.
My trusty newspaper salesman starts kicking and screaming as its claws pull him down to the open head-mouth that I’ve grown, but his strength is not enough to even move it.
“Please, you have to help me! Mark, Mark, do something!”
I sigh.
“Is that how you escape reality? Saying things that will haunt me for a life time?”
That’s my last message to Jack. Our relationship was never rocky, but I wish to tell him this one last thing, because being sad for him won’t do anything. I’ve done my best–I can’t help but cry–but I’ve done my best. Yet, it always wins.
Soon enough, even the screams of agony stop, every bone in his body being crushed and devoured.
I can only hear him begging now, slightly whispering, and it breaks my heart.
Jack’s head falls to the ground. Soon enough, even his head will be gone. For now, it has chosen that it will stay, as there’s no one to see it, as a remainder of my failure.
Finally, my friend or what’s left of it puts an halt to his desperate pleading, maybe because he no longer even has a mouth to beg with. The town is satisfied.
Another night, another defeat for me. And the corpse of Jack won’t ever be found. It’s inside of me and the thought haunts me.
I can never go home in peace.
I repeat, please listen to me. I need you all to trust me.
Do not roam outside your house, in the streets of Wallsend, at night. It’s in the name.
It is not safe where the Walls End.