Flittermouse.

I followed her, past cottages clad in larch boards stained black. 

Over slimy cobbles, under low steel bridges; rivets like leeches

swelled with diesel. On slug infested, nettle lined paths above

electrified tracks.

By the side of the ancient, suffocating iron oxide deep canal.

Behind walls of jagged clammy stone;  the stinking alleyway

reeked of decay. And sorrowful rats, crawled the remains of

the Railwayman.

She moved quickly, and I laboured to keep up with her flight.

It was like following an apparition;  her nymph-like frame lit 

by a hurricane lamp. We moved in shadows and flickers of

darker light.

We crossed the road, pursuer and pursued, at a hellish pace.

Into the woods and down into the cut; leaving the natural world

far behind. As we reached the bottom not even a strip of 

sky remained.

No sound could penetrate, or escape, and no breeze filtrate.

Sunlight never found its way; or wished to inhabit this awful 

place. The foreboding atmosphere filled my lungs with a

putrid taste.

It was here, in this natural dungeon, that she now stood still.

Lamp in one hand and a small box in the other; dwarfed by 

imposing architecture. Ramparts before the entrance to a disused 

black tunnel.

For a moment I froze, held by the unspeakable power of a spell.

At once suffocated and invigorated; the chill in the air stunned my

senses. I had lost sight of heaven to walk here, between iron rails 

to hell.

She walked slowly towards the gaping mouth of the underworld.

I edged, crouching low, like a cat; creeping in and out of shallow 

high arches clothed in pungent fern. All around me, drama began

to unfurl.

To my surprise she placed the box on the floor and opened the lid.

I was shocked to see several albino rats spill out; scurrying away to 

follow the line of rusted iron tracks. Crisscrossing sleepers and slipping

through cracks.

And then, by far the strangest thing that I have ever seen, happened.

More than I had witnessed; in a lifetime of cat and mouse. She began to

wave her hurricane lamp and cry “flittermouse, flittermouse, come out of 

your house."

Dropping my fear, I began to observe what was going on around me.

Allowing things to unfold, I dropped to one knee; straining my eyes in

the half-light of the abandoned railway cut, I felt butterflies in the pit of 

my gut.

Three hundred feet or so inside the tunnel there lived a creature.

The resident of  the old underpass; hanging like a young rabbit from

the wet, cold wall. It pricked up its large rodent like ears on hearing

her call.

At first, I thought I was seeing a stone, and then a ghastly bird.

As the creature came hurtling forth; its wings stretching to nearly

half a metre, I realised I was seeing a bat, a great mouse-eared web

winged creature.

It climbed upward in an arc then descended earthwards in the half-dark.

Flapping its wings very slowly as it covered the ground; then flopping on 

to the track, wings outstretched to fold over its prey, one of 

the rats.

And, as she softly applauded, I swear on my life and that of my own.

That the creature looked back, as if to say thank you; and then once again

flew into its dark abode, leaving me aghast, I barely noticed the woman turn and 

head home.

What would I tell her poor husband of the findings of my investigation?

Surely better this strange tale then what he had feared; or maybe not, as

some truths are perhaps too weird to be believed. And of course, there is

my reputation.