Whitby Vampyrrhic Read Online Free

he wished with all his heart to be understood. ‘
Ever since 1939, Britain has been at war with Hitler’s evil Nazi empire. We are an island under siege. Enemy submarines sink our ships. Enemy planes pour fire and explosives on to every city.
’ Images again: this time of bomb craters in a children’s playground, of burning ships in a harbour, of ruined homes with dazed survivors sitting on the rubble. Alec Reed’s voice-over continued. ‘
The war kills people like you and I. Bombs destroy homes and factories and schools. But this war has brought something else. It has engulfed us in a great tide of darkness.
’ Once more, footage of wrecked houses faded to black.
    â€˜
Darkness, darkness
 . . .
all encompassing. There are times we believe that the darkness will flood our minds and drown our souls. Because, ever since the war began, British people are strictly forbidden to show any kind of light at night. Lest that light act as a guiding beacon to enemy bombers. After all, even a lighted cigarette can be seen from five thousand feet above your head. So
 . . .
at night
 . . .
that long, dreadful night
 . . .
windows are shrouded by cloth: dark cloth, funeral black.
’ Scenes of men and women pulling swathes of blackout material over windows. ‘
If the light still shows through the drapes and curtains and blinds, then we must paint even the window glass. Show no light. Not a glimmer. Not a twinkle. Otherwise the bombs will fall. Bombs are death to you and your neighbour, and to her baby sleeping in its cradle.
’ More shots of cities at night, the buildings reduced to ghostly silhouettes. ‘
So we blunder about in darkness. Even in the middle of our biggest city. No street lights
 . . .
No headlamps on cars must be visible. If they are, the Nazi death machine will come. This, then, is our night. When darkness is king.
’
    Sally couldn’t stop herself whispering in total admiration, ‘Isn’t he poetic?’
    From all around, people shushed.
    The narration rose in volume as music surged in to carry his words to the climax. ‘
And so, ladies and gentlemen, I invite you to spend a little while with me
 . . .
to watch how ordinary families, from an ordinary street, not only cope with life in this new midnight realm, but how they rise up, conquer it, and make darkness their
domain
 . . .’ Music boomed in triumph. A map appeared of a coast. ‘
Here is the little English seaside town of Whitby. Come with me now and meet these ordinary – yet, as you’ll see – extraordinary men and women.
’
    The film ended abruptly.
    â€˜Lights please, Stan.’ The room lights revealed the narrator of the film standing by the screen. His fingertips touched the eyepatch, as if he’d become even more conscious of it. ‘So far, that’s all that has been shot of
This Midnight Realm
. This is where you enter the story of our film, ladies and gentlemen. You will play those ordinary men and women of Whitby, a town at war. It will be your role,
your quest
, to show the rest of the world how we carry on with our ordinary lives, despite the hardships of air raids, food rationing and the blackout.’ He checked his watch. ‘We’ll now take a break. Please be back here for ten forty-five. Thank you.’
    The audience applauded. They were excited, enthusiastic.
    Beth applauded, murmuring as she did so, ‘He knows how to work a crowd, doesn’t he?’
    Sally didn’t pick up any note of sarcasm. Breathlessly, she gushed, ‘I can’t believe I’m going to be in my first movie. All I’ve ever done is shows in village halls. It’s wonderful. Will they style my hair . . . Oh? Do I have to buy my own make-up? But I will be in black and white, won’t I? Don’t we have to wear black lipstick, so it shows up on screen? Just imagine, Beth!