Dylan’s turn to give us a photo and our first line this week.
Our line for this week is:
Amber light streamed down from the arched windows, splattering the altar and their upturned faces.
‘Oh bloody hell,’ Toby whispered. ‘They’ve found us.’
‘I told you it was no good trying to hide in a place of God you fool! They don’t believe in it!’
‘There’s nowhere to go. Any ideas?’
‘If only we were shape-shifters, we could disguise ourselves as candles or something.’
The amber light grew stronger, its rays feeling through the glass like excited fingers exploring a doll’s house.
The pair scurried through the pews like rats, opening the Confessional Chamber door and slipping inside, their breathing rapid and hearts pounding.
‘What do we do now?’
‘How the hell should I know? It was your idea!!’
‘Cheers. Funny how it’s always my fault when things go belly up. I told you not to touch that dial. So did Dad. But oh no, you wanted to see ‘Merry Old England’, then before we know it, we’re in the middle of some ritual involving torches and hooded figures, and running for our lives!’
There was a loud crash as the church door was smashed off its hinges. Angry voices echoed off the walls and the box was soon engulfed in flames amidst chants and cheers.
Toby was glad of his torch as he and his sister were running down a narrow underground tunnel away from the melee. The entrance was secreted behind a false wall at the back of the confessional boxes, and had been used by monks as an escape route long ago. It brought them out into the fields where they had landed just half an hour before.
‘How did you know about the tunnel?’
‘I actually remembered something from a history class. We’d better not hang around. The portal will be opening a couple of minutes. Let’s hope our pursuers are otherwise engaged until then.’
The two looked back at the flaming church and frenzied figures cavorting in the firelight.