He began idly flipping through the channels, adverts, daytime chat shows, adverts, adverts, shopping channel…

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Hang on… was that…

He moved back one channel.

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…it is… that’s Charlotte Street!


Local television news reporter, and sometime radio presenter, Julia Sharred was talking directly to the camera, hair whipping across her face, her dark, slim figure, standing across from a familiar row of houses.

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What the hell is this?

He punched the volume control and her sultry voice jumped from the set.

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“…dents were shocked this morning to find that their quiet street had been the scene of a savage murder. The victim, who has not as yet been named, was found lying against the wall of his home. A police spokesman said that this was being treated as a suspicious death, and they are appealing for witnesses. Few details are being released at the moment, but it is believed that the victim's remains had been disturbed by a dog as some parts of the body were missing.

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I spoke to one of the local residents, Zoe Fells:"

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"Oh, yes, we’re all a little bit shocked. Nothing like this has ever happened here before, it’s very worrying…"

Mitchell stared at the television where a young mother was describing how bad it was that someone had been murdered not twenty feet from her own home. However, the attractive young female was not what held his attention. Behind her, panning away as her voice continued Mitchell saw familiar landmarks, he knew these streets, this place wasn’t too far from where Mackintosh lived….

He dropped the mug in his hand, it bounced from the table, hot tea flew everywhere, he barely noticed.

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I tore his face off.

He shook his head. Where had that come from?

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What the hell am I thinki…

But then the images flew at him, claws and blood; sharp teeth ripping into the body of a man who could not scream because his face was already gone. Tearing and rending. A woman. The woods, a burning on his chest. Mackintosh’s bathroom.

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That’s what I dreamed about. How could I dream about that?

The camera had moved from the young blonde and had returned to Sharred who was emoting the usual requests for any information, Mitchell wasn’t listening, even the sight of the, usually arousing, local celebrity was dulled in his mind.

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It can’t be Mackintosh… could it?

But for some reason he couldn’t quite fathom, he knew, not only that it could, but that it was.