The Cryptid Files Read online

  Now take a swim and see the difference.

  Slowly she stood up and looked below her into the water. She could see down near the edges with the glow from the moss, but farther out it was dull and murky. Why couldn’t she be dreaming about turquoise-blue Mediterranean waters? She dived in, breaking the surface of the water with only the slightest ripple.

  The water felt cool and refreshing as she expected, but something else surprised her. It also felt soft and velvety, almost as if it were caressing her. She raised her hand out of the water and let it drip through her fingers, trying to understand the feeling of healing and comfort it gave her. When she put her hand back into the water, the glow from her skin was intense and she could see right down below her into the depths. There were no fish or plants, nothing at all to see.

  She took a deep breath and went under, swimming down hard. About 10 feet below the surface she could see a series of caves but she didn’t feel like exploring them. Deeper again she thought she saw something move, so she swam towards it, but it was gone by the time she reached the spot.

  She looked back up to the surface; it seemed a long way off. How had she managed to hold her breath so long? She was a good swimmer, but thirty seconds was about her best breath hold. Luke was much better. Luke. The name sang in her head, reverberating. It felt so familiar and yet she couldn’t attach an image to the name.

  When she got to the surface again, Vanessa climbed out. She felt tired and hungry now. Something had disturbed her equilibrium, some memory she couldn’t place. She scraped some more moss off the walls and put this fresh supply in her sock, which began to glow comically. She giggled at the sight of it, feeling happier again. She sat now on her fleece and examined her green limbs in awe. Her trousers should have been dripping wet – she’d just climbed out of the water – but they felt dry and comfortable, and her fleece, too, was soft and warm. Presumably this dream would end some time soon. But not too soon, she hoped.

  CHAPTER 21

  Mr P. Macnab, county councillor and bank manager in Ayrshire, photographed Nessie near Urquhart Castle. The picture was published in the Weekly Scotsman in October 1958. Far from seeking publicity, he said, ‘through diffidence and fear of ridicule, I have kept it to myself until now’.

  Luke and Ronan!

  The names popped out of nowhere into her head and she sat up suddenly, grazing her elbow of a rock. Of course, her brothers. How could she have forgotten her brothers? She focused hard and managed to see them on a bank with fishing rods, but beyond that one image she couldn’t picture them, no matter how hard she tried.

  She looked around, surprised to find herself in the same place. What on earth was this all about? She had never had to find a way out of a dream before. Normally, she just woke up. She looked at her watch, forgetting that it was broken. Five o’clock. Why was that time significant? What had she done to break her watch? She waited for an image, but nothing came. She would find her own way out, even if her mind wasn’t willing to help. She jumped to her feet.

  The rocks felt almost warm to her touch this time. Her hands and feet were still glowing but very faintly now; she must have been asleep for some time. She gathered more moss into her sock and tucked it into her belt. She knew that she would have to eat some more of it if she wanted to find a way out in the water. Besides she was beginning to like the feel of it on her tongue. First, she would climb up to some of the higher caves and see if there was a tunnel which would lead up to the top. Lead up to the top? Vanessa was puzzled by the thought. What was at the top?

  She began to climb quickly. Although her feet were bare, she was sure-footed. She loved climbing. She stopped, picturing herself scaling a large tree. Her lime tree. Of course, in her garden. The images stopped as abruptly as they started.

  The teasing memory made her all the more determined, and she climbed up higher past two caves. She didn’t stop at either, as she could see the back of them, and there were no tunnels leading anywhere. She paused and looked over to the left at another opening. For some reason, it looked more interesting, even though it was still above her eye level and she couldn’t see the back of it. Was she right in thinking that it wasn’t as dark up there? Maybe it was the light from an opening. The climb up and across would be more difficult. There were fewer footholds and bigger rocks jutting out and in the way.

  She lost her footing just for a moment, scraping her knee on the rock. It didn’t hurt at all, but she could see the tear in her jeans and the blood oozing. Do you bleed in your dreams? she wondered. Should she look for a way out through the water instead? She longed to throw herself of the ledge into the water below where she knew she would feel secure and comfortable. Why was the water so appealing?

  Water heals.

  Perhaps, she thought as the words reverberated in her head. But heals what?

  She climbed onto the ledge with some difficulty and sat on her knees looking around. How disappointing! There was no way out after all, just another cave. Well, not quite just another cave. This one was different, because the bottoms of the walls were lined with the glowing moss. Nearly all the other moss she’d seen or eaten had been at water level or just below it. None of the neighbouring caves was glowing. Strange, that. What made this one different? There was something more to it than just the moss. She could feel something close to her.

  Vanessa shuffled along the ground towards the back of the cave, and it was at the very back that she saw a pile of rocks in the shape of a pyramid. The roof of the cave was higher there and she could stand up. The construction had been carefully made, each rock balanced one on top of the other. Who could have built it? As she removed a large one for a closer look, she heard a loud, prolonged cry. Startled, she dropped the rock and froze. It was sadness itself. But not a human cry, more like an animal.

  Stop. Leave in peace, please, please …

  Vanessa wrung her hands; she needed to look inside and yet she knew she shouldn’t be doing this. Just like the pictures in the cupboard, she thought, as the image of herself surrounded by paintings of the Loch Ness Monster sprang into her head. Nessie? What had she to do with this? She put her hand on another rock and waited for another warning cry, but nothing came, so she lifted another off the top and tried to peer inside. It was too dark. She would need a torch – but a glowing sock would do. Even dangling her sock over the opening, she could see nothing at first. Then her eye caught a glint of metal. Should she touch it? She waited for an image or a voice to guide her, but nothing came.

  Carefully, so that she didn’t disturb the stone pyramid, she put her hand inside. Her fingers touched something hard and she pulled her hand out again. Feeling less brave, she sat for a little while. She had to see what it was. Again she plunged her hand in and tried to peer in at the same time. Her fingers closed around what felt like a little chain and she lifted her hand out slowly.

  At the end of the chain that dangled between her fingers was a locket. A tiny silver locket, old and badly tarnished. She fingered it gently and then opened it. Inside was a black and white photograph. It was clearly a woman, maybe in her thirties, but her features were hard to make out as part of the picture had lifted. Her hair was smooth and cut to her shoulders and Vanessa could see that she was very beautiful indeed. There was something about her face that made Vanessa feel sad. She sat down and leaned back against the wall to think.

  Who was she and how had her picture got here, under a pile of rocks? Questions with no answers; more confusion. It was exhausting trying to sort it out. She needed to swim; she needed to be in the water to cool her brain.

  Vanessa closed the locket and cleaned it as best she could on her jeans and then put it around her neck. Luckily, the chain was long enough to go over her head, as the clasp was rusted and couldn’t be opened. Her dad would oil it for her. Dad. In her mind, she saw him for a second in the front seat of a car. She could see the back of his neck and the flecks of grey through his hair. He was driving; he was driving to … But her mind, playing tricks a
gain, shut down. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes in frustration. Why couldn’t she remember? Why wouldn’t this dream let her go?

  Vanessa stood at the edge, cupping the locket tightly in her palm, and then, without even looking, she jumped out high into the air before plunging deep into the water below.

  CHAPTER 22

  On 27 July 1973, five people outside the Foyers Hotel watched something move quickly across the loch. One witness, Mr E. Moran from Yorkshire, said, ‘although I was a sceptic before now, I don’t mind what anyone else thinks – I am convinced that I have seen a creature of some kind in Loch Ness’.

  Alan and Luke decided that they would go into the village with Lee to ask about Vanessa, while Maggie and Ronan stayed at the cottage in case she turned up. Alan tried hard to stay focused on the most likely possibilities and the relief he would feel when she sauntered up to him without even realising that she had caused such worry. He pleaded with Marie in his head, begged her to help him. He couldn’t lose Vanessa too.

  He pictured her face, her playful smile and tousled hair that gave her such a careless appearance and belied her sharp, inquisitive mind. He had to admit that this wasn’t like Vanessa at all.

  They talked to everyone in the village, from the lock keeper to Mrs MacNab and her daughters who worked in the grocery store, but there had been no sightings of Vanessa at all in the village that afternoon. Alan felt his heart begin to thump hard in his chest.

  ‘What now? Luke’s question was almost inaudible.

  It was really dark now, and getting cold as they made their way back, running most of the way to the cottage in the hope of some news there. Alan slowed with a stitch in his side. He was either more unft than he thought or panic was constricting every muscle in his body.

  ‘Where’s the closest police station, Lee?’ Alan’s voice was dull with pain.

  ‘I’ll call when we get back. It’s Graham Maguire in Drumnadrochit we need. Maggie knows him well.’

  ‘Luke and I will get some torches and walk along the loch edge. Maybe she’s fallen somewhere and twisted her ankle in the dark.’ His voice grew stronger.

  Luke looked at him with a hunted expression. His mouth was in a grim line and he was on the brink of tears.

  ‘We’re going to find her, Luke. I promise you.’

  The road back to the cottage stretched before them interminably as they made their way home in silence, each deep in thought, each terrified at the possibilities. They scanned the ditches and hedgerows for any signs – half in dread, half in hope.

  None of them saw the small figure run out onto the cottage driveway, but they began to sprint as soon as the shouting started. Someone was waving a torch and screaming up ahead.

  ‘It’s Ronan, Dad,’ Luke shouted as he sped ahead of the other two. Within seconds, they were all standing in a bunch on the roadside, Alan on one knee, holding Ronan.

  ‘Dad.’ Ronan’s breath heaved in his chest. ‘Dad, the rowing boat’s gone. Vanessa has taken the boat out. And she’s on her own.’

  CHAPTER 23

  A model Nessie was made for the film The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes. This model was towed around the loch by a submersible to see if it could lure the real Nessie into the open. After the model accidentally sank, it was never seen again.

  Vanessa felt more comfortable in the water now than out of it. Between eating the moss she took longer trips deep down into the water, where at last she met a school of fish that swam past her. Her eyes widened in astonishment. Something alive at last.

  Arctic char, she shouted in her head. She remembered them from Maggie’s description of the fish in the loch. Oh my God, the loch! Loch Ness, of course, and Maggie and her cottage. Her excitement at remembering a few snippets more of her life was intense. She turned around as quickly as she could and tried to swim after the school of char. To her surprise, she was able to keep up with the fish. They seemed entirely uninterested in her and so she swam on just behind them.

  Swim down deep enough and you’ll find me.

  She swam on, although it was increasingly hard to go down, the physical pressure on her body growing with each stroke. Suddenly, she saw the fish turn and dart away.

  She was aware now of a large shape glowing at a distance beyond her. Vanessa blinked, trying to make some sense of what she was looking at. A huge object moved slowly towards her.

  Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.

  Vanessa stopped swimming, waiting for the inevitable. As it approached her, the glow grew more intense and the water warmer. She closed her eyes. Maybe she would wake from the dream any second now. But when she opened them again, she found herself face to face with large seal-like eyes, only a couple of inches away from her. She felt their intensity as they searched for something in her own eyes, something beyond her eyes, some connection with her, deep inside. A bubble of excitement seemed to burst inside Vanessa, and she was gripped by a sense of elation like she had never felt before.

  The creature was exactly as in the painting, exactly like her dream. Vanessa stared straight into the eyes of the most wonderful cryptid in the world and a huge smile spread across her face. This was no dream. Her chest tightened again and this time Vanessa knew that it was only her ribs stopping her from bursting with happiness.

  Put your arms around my neck and I’ll show you my loch.

  The voice in her head at last made sense to Vanessa. It had been Nessie all the time. She wrapped her arms around Nessie’s slim neck, the warmth of her great body a pleasure and a comfort to her.

  You’re a mammal, you’re warm-blooded. I knew it. Vanessa thought and smiled at Nessie.

  Just like you, Nessie said simply.

  Startled, Vanessa let go. She hadn’t realised that the thought transfer worked both ways.

  Better hold on tight.

  And with that she moved of at speed, and Vanessa could feel the rhythmic beating of Nessie’s fins around her waist, and at her feet the second set of smaller flippers. Nessie was about 10 feet long and yet she moved effortlessly through the water.

  It was like being on whaleback, speeding through the sea!

  Yes, I remember the sea; at least I think I do. My mother – she’s dead now – she used to talk about our home in the sea.

  Dead. Dead. A wash of sadness swept through Vanessa, with such intensity that she felt her limbs go weak. Suddenly, she saw her own mother, small and frail, propped up in a bed with white pillows. Her dark hair was spread out like a fan behind her. Not the bouncy black hair that she used to have, but the limp and dull hair at the end.

  The sadness was followed by a piercing pain in her chest as she watched the picture of her mother fade in her mind.

  Hold me tight, Vanessa.

  Vanessa did as Nessie said and, as they swam, she felt the pain ebb slowly away. The warmth of Nessie’s body soothed her. They seemed to swim for an age in silence. The rhythm and the flow of the water over her body calmed Vanessa.

  They must have gone quite deep before Vanessa noticed a shape looming ahead.

  Look, Nessie. What’s that?

  Oh, that boat sank a long time ago. Want to see?

  They swam alongside the boat and Vanessa looked in through the windows. It was a beautiful motorboat, long and elegant. The wood inside seemed to gleam as if it had just recently been polished. It was beautifully preserved.

  There have been so many boats across my loch – parties; tourists; people looking for me, I think. There are huge eels, though, and people don’t like that.

  No, I wouldn’t either, thought Vanessa as she looked around nervously.

  Only a few have ever come down into my world, but there was a young woman on this boat; I tried to save her. I brought her back to the cave when I found her drowning, but it was no use.

  Vanessa felt the huge creature’s sadness.

  How come I survived? she asked. I didn’t drown.

  I suppose it was because you believed in me and weren’t afraid. Even though I told her
– that other poor girl – to eat the green glow, she wouldn’t. Maybe she couldn’t hear me. She just went to sleep and never woke up.

  Vanessa stroked the side of Nessie’s neck with her hand. It felt so soft to her touch.

  Those that drown are innocent and those that survive the douking are witches … The thought snaked through Vanessa’s mind. Who had said it to her? She couldn’t recall, yet a faint flicker of recognition made her feel uncomfortable.

  Well, go on, finish your story, about the girl.

  I brought her body back up as close to the surface as I dared. I couldn’t risk being seen. Unfortunately, the divers who were looking for her saw me and they panicked. I have one of their cameras still in one of the caves if you want to see it?

  She lifted her head and looked into Vanessa’s eyes again.

  You believe in me, Vanessa. I’ll make everything all right for you, I promise. Now hold on, your glow is fading. I need to get you back to the caves.

  Once they were back at the caves, Vanessa climbed out of the water and gathered some more moss to eat.

  Tell me about your mother, she asked Nessie. How did she die?

  She was sick for a long time. It all began when we came through the gates.

  What kind of gates? asked Vanessa. Oh, you mean, lock-gates?

  I don’t remember. I was chasing some fish, I think, and I followed them through the first gate from the sea. My mother came after me but it was too late. We were forced to keep going through all the gates, and we ended up here, and she’d been hurt.

  How? Did she get caught in the gates?

  No, we swam under the boats, and when the water got shallow, in the canal, my mother was crushed.

  Nessie stopped for a moment.