Genevieve Lilith Vesta
Copyright 2015 Genevieve Lilith Vesta
Shakespir Edition, License Notes
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Table of contents
Chapter One: House of Death
Chapter Two: The Cabin
Chapter Three: Jessica’s Intrusion
Chapter Four: A Gift
Chapter Five: The Virginia Witch
Chapter Six: The Ancient One
Chapter Seven: Carried Away By Passion
Chapter Eight: The Preacher Man
Chapter Nine: The Ionia Incident
A NEW DAWN
All has been foretold
those days of long ago,
A new power will come forth
to spread the flames and decay
unto the earth.
The time of innocence is lost,
now darkness engulfs us
The time of his reign has come
now we all will perish.
The fiends of hell will sacrifice all
for the new master to be set free.
Many lives will have to end
so the new illumination
All may not be lost
There is one last hope
the gifts of God must unite
only they can prevail to halt the
sovereignty of hell.
The elements together
can take away all our despair.
They need to be combined as one
to destroy the evil beast
that has come.
The flames of hell streaks across
the heavenly skies.
The strong gale of air
erodes the land away.
The shaking earth crumbles
into the black abyss.
The tidal wave of water
drowns the innocent.
The time of the new power has come
how many lives will be lost
The elements must unite
or it will be the end
of all mankind.
The new dawn has arrived!
It is Halloween night and some teenagers decide to scare up an old house with a tragic past, but it is they that become the victims when an urban legend comes true.
HOUSE OF DEATH
“This is it, Aaron,” Joel said as he pulled into the graveled driveway.
Aaron noticed the overgrown weeds that filled the yard, had begun to fill the driveway, too. The house was two stories high. The chipped paint looked like at one time it was white.
“I think I saw this house in a Stephen King movie,” Joel said.
Aaron looked at his friend and smiled.
“Let’s go inside,” Joel said. He opened up the car door and stepped out.
Aaron followed and stood next to Joel. They began to walk toward the house. The steps creaked as they stepped up on the front porch.
Joel just stood there.
Aaron looked back at him. “Aren’t you coming?”
Joel shrugged and followed Aaron inside.
The interior of the house looked just as bad as the exterior.
A heavy layer of dirt covered the floor and cobwebs hung all over. “How long was this house empty?” Aaron asked.
“It’s been empty since the murders five years ago, well except on Halloween night,” Joel answered.
“Five years,” Aaron said. “That’s a long time.”
“Tonight is going to be great,” Joel said.
“Halloween night,” Aaron said. “I can’t wait.”
Later that evening, Joel and Aaron began the drive back to the house with Bridget and Rosa. “Is this place haunted?” Rosa asked.
“No, don’t worry about it, nothing ghostly happened to us when we were there earlier,” Aaron said and pulled out his pocketknife. He began to toss it skillfully into the air and catch it, continuously.
Bridget turned in her seat and watched the knife fly up, do some sort of a flip and land safely in Aaron’s hand. She said to him, “you are pretty good with that knife.”
“My grandfather taught me to use it when I was very young.”
“Yeah and Aaron can hit something far, far away,” Rosa said and kissed him on the cheek.
“Well, not that far away, I’m not that good,” Aaron told her.
Rosa said as she put her arm around Aaron’s neck, “don’t be so modest honey.”
“Hey Aaron, are you nervous about something?” Joel asked.
Aaron looked up, saw Joel watching him in his rear view mirror and said, “no, why do you ask?”
Joel smiled and told him, “I noticed that whenever you get real nervous about something, you always pull out that knife of yours and play with it.”
Aaron quickly put the knife back into his pocket as Joel pulled into the driveway of the abandoned house.
The four of them stepped out of the car and stared at the house. “This house gives me the creeps,” Rosa said.
“Me too,” Bridget said.
“Tonight, it’s supposed to give you the creeps,” Joel told them. “It’s Halloween!”
Aaron, unsure about the house himself, said, “there’s nothing wrong with this place; it’s just an old house.”
“Yeah and grisly murders took place here,” Joel said. “You know there is an urban legend associated with this place.”
“There is?” Aaron asked.
“Let’s hear it,” Bridget said.
Rosa asked, “do we really have to hear it?”
Joel smiled, put his arm around Rosa and said, “yep, ain’t a proper Halloween without a horror story, now is it?” He pulled Rosa toward the house and onto the porch. Bridget and Aaron followed.
Once inside, they sat on the dusty, old furniture and listened to Joel tell them about the story.
“The legend goes like this,” Joel began. “A doctor lived in this house with his wife and twin sons, who were seventeen years old. He became involved with the black arts and he would sacrifice people in his basement, to worship Satan. The good doctor would pick up homeless people so nobody would file a missing person’s report on them. He would feed them, pretended that he actually wanted to help them and then kill them. The doctor slashed up their bodies real good and hung them up by their ankles from chains, hooked to the ceiling.”
“That is so gross,” Bridget said and laughed.
“Hold on, there is more.” Joel continued, “on Halloween, five years ago, his wife went into the basement that her husband had forbidding her to enter. It’s been said that the people in town heard her scream when she found the bodies. The gentle doctor slashed his wife up and hung her by the ankles, and then he went upstairs to the twin’s rooms.”
“The gentle doctor, are you kidding,” Aaron said.
Joel smiled and finished his story, “the cops grew suspicious because the boys weren’t in school, so they came here to find out what was wrong. The cops found ten bodies in the basement, including the wife and the twins. The doctor was never found. In a hidden room, they found a large pentagram on the floor, with a black mark in the middle of it. It was a burn mark. Rumor went around that the doctor went crazy and killed some people. When his wife found out, he had killed his whole family and then burned himself alive.”
“Is that it? What is so scary about that?” Bridget asked.
“Now for the scary part, my dear Bridget, they found something written on the floor; inside the pentagram, written in blood was the words: IN FIVE YEARS.”
“What about five years?” Rosa asked.
“Who knows, I just tell the story,” Joel told her.
Aaron saw the fear in Rosa’s eyes, he put his arms around her and said, “don’t worry about it; Joel said it was an urban legend and those stories are never true.”
“What’s the big deal about coming here every year anyway?” Bridget asked. “I don’t think it is that scary of a place.”
“Cause the idea of what happened here is exciting,” Joel said.
“Besides, we need to do something tonight,” Aaron said. “We are too old for trick or treating.”
“Do you guys realize that we are the same age as the doctor’s twins?” Rosa asked.
Aaron and Joel looked at one another; Joel rolled his eyes and Aaron smiled.
“On that note, let’s get busy and get everything ready for the younger generation,” Bridget said.
“Get everything ready,” Rosa said as she looked around and began to walk up the stairs. “we don’t have much to do here.”
“I’ll do the kitchen,” Bridget said, then she pointed at Joel and Aaron and said, “you two work on the library and the living room.”
“I love a woman who takes charge,” Joel said after Bridget left the room. “This is going to be the best Halloween ever.”
“Those kids are gonna get the scare of their lives tonight,” Aaron said.
A loud scream echoed throughout the house.
“Rosa!” Aaron yelled.
Bridget ran out of the kitchen and the three of them ran up the stairs. They found Rosa hysterical in one of the rooms, she pointed towards the far wall.
Joel looked to where she had pointed and said, “oh, shit man!”
Bridget stared at the rust colored stains that covered the floor and wall. “Blood?” She asked.
“Yeah and a lot of it too,” Aaron said as he moved closer to the wall. “It’s old, dried up blood.”
“This must have been the twin’s room, cool,” Joel said. “Well, at least we don’t have to worry about putting fake blood in here.”
“Let’s just finish getting this place ready,” Bridget said.
“Good idea, it’s almost midnight,” Joel said.
Aaron told them, “I’m beginning to have second thoughts about this; I have a bad feeling.”
“Ha, I knew you were nervous; listen man, kids have been coming here for five years now and nothing has happened, no one has been hurt.”
“It’s never been, IN FIVE YEARS, either,” Rosa said.
Ignoring Rosa, Joel said, “let’s go downstairs and work down there, we don’t have much time.”
Everyone went downstairs and continued with their work.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” Rosa said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Just hurry up,” Aaron told her. “We are almost ready here.”
“Like I am going to go off exploring all by myself in this creepy house,” she said and walked out of the living room.
“Do you think one of us should go with her?” Bridget asked.
“No, she will be ok,” Aaron told her.
Joel laughed and said, “besides, we would be able to hear her scream if something happened.”
They continued to work on horrifying the house and forgot all about Rosa.
A loud bang echoed throughout the house. The three friends jumped and screamed as one, “Rosa!”
“Oh, shit! I forgot all about her,” Aaron said.
“We have to look for her,” Bridget said.
Joel said to her, “she didn’t scream, she screams at everything.”
Aaron and Bridget looked at Joel; Aaron said, “that is why we have to look for her, Rosa would have screamed after hearing that damn noise.”
“Good point,” Joel said and followed Aaron and Bridget out of the room.
“We will start with the downstairs bathroom,” Aaron said.
The bathroom downstairs was empty, so they walked up the steps to the second floor. When the three of them walked up to the door, Aaron knocked. There was no answer. He slowly opened up the door wide and Bridgett screamed. Fresh blood covered the bathroom floor and walls.
“Where is Rosa?” Bridget asked almost hysterical.
Joel was pale, his eyes never left the gore before him as he said, “no one is in there.”
“She must have got hurt and came out of the bathroom to find us,” Aaron said.
Bridget looked up and down the hallway and said, “Aaron, if that was what happened then where is the blood in the hallway?”
“Huh, what do you mean?” Aaron asked.
Bridget pointed in the bathroom and said, “if she bled that much, and walked out into the hallway to get us, don’t you think that blood would be in the hallway too.”
Aaron looked at the rug in the hallway; there was not even one drop of blood on the floor.
“I don’t like this,” Aaron said.
Joel said to him, “she didn’t just disappear into thin air.”
“Let’s check out the bathroom, shall we,” Aaron said.
“I’m not going in there,” Bridget said.
Joel told him, “me neither, it’s your girlfriend.”
Aaron walked into the bathroom, while Joel and Bridget waited in the hallway. Blood was splattered everywhere; Aaron began to worry about the condition Rosa would be in if they found her. It did not look good with all the blood that had spilled. “There sure is a lot of blood in here.” He walked toward the small window over the toilet, careful not to slip on the red liquid. Aaron opened the window and looked out. “I can’t see down there, it’s too dark.”
“Aaron the window was shut,” Bridget said.
“Yeah genius, we are on the second floor, how did she shut it again from down on the ground,” Joel said to him.
Aaron turned to look at them and said, “it didn’t hurt to look and besides where else could Rosa be if she didn’t go out the door?”
Bridget took over the situation again. “Let’s split up and look for her, I’ll look downstairs; Aaron, you check the rooms up here and Joel look outside.”
“Yes, mam,” Joel said and went downstairs.
Aaron stepped off the toilet and said, “I don’t like this.”
“Maybe this is a sick joke that Rosa pulled on us, to scare us,” Bridget said.
“Yeah right, you know Rosa as well as I do; she isn’t capable of coming up with something this elaborate. Shit, she is scared of fake blood.”
“That is true, I’m going downstairs.” Bridget walked away.
Aaron stepped out of the bathroom, out into the hall and began searching the rooms.
As Aaron began to open the door to the room with dried blood, a scream sounded from downstairs. He ran down the hall and the steps three at a time. Bridget still screamed as Aaron ran into the kitchen. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared. Blood splattered all over the kitchen and the back door was now red, instead of white.
“I’m getting the hell out of here!” Bridget screamed and ran for the door. She slipped in the blood and fell to the floor.
Aaron went to help her, but she pushed him away and stood up on her own. Bridget reached the door and turned the knob, but the door would not open. She pulled and pulled on it, but it would not open.
Aaron walked to the door and tried turning the knob, but nothing happened. He and Bridget looked at each other; they both ran to the front door. Aaron reached it first and tried to turn the handle, it would not open; both doors shut tight. They were trapped.
“Now what are we going to do?” Bridget asked. “Rosa and Joel are dead and we are next.”
“They are just missing,” Aaron yelled at her.
“Yeah, their dead bodies are missing,” she shouted back.
Aaron was not paying attention to Bridget; something over her shoulder had caught his eye.
“What’s wrong? What are you looking at?” Bridget said and turned to see what Aaron stared at; she saw it too. “A hidden door in the wall?”
“Hidden doors! That is how Rosa and Joel disappeared,” Aaron said.
“That also means we are not alone.” Bridget turned toward Aaron and said to him, “we are trapped with a killer.”
“Happy Halloween.” Aaron did not smile.
The grandfather clock nearby began to chime.
BONG, BONG, BONG, BONG!
“That clock was not working before,” Bridget said.
BONG, BONG, BONG, BONG!
Aaron said to her, “it does now.”
BONG, BONG, BONG, BONG!
The old house fell silent; it was midnight.
“Whose idea was it to scare the kids tonight?” Bridget asked.
“It was Joel’s idea.”
“You think,” Bridget began, “that we were the kids he had in mind?”
Aaron looked at her for a moment and said loudly to the room, “All right Joel, you got us; come on out.”
“Joke’s over Joel,” Bridget hollered. “Rosa, you can come out now.”
There was only silence.
“Come on,” Aaron said. “I guess the joke isn’t over yet.”
“What else could he do to us?”
Aaron took her hand and said, “with Joel, anything is possible.”
They walked silently to the open door in the wall. Aaron and Bridget walked inside; it was a hallway, lit up with candles. The two of them walked toward a door at the end of the hallway. Aaron opened the door; the room was empty except for all the candles, in the middle of the floor was a chalked out large pentagram.
“Oh, my God!” Bridget said.
Aaron looked about the room again; there was another door. He walked toward it, as Bridget stared at the pentagram on the floor.
“Joel has one hell of an imagination,” Bridget said.
Aaron reached the door and turned the knob, the door opened and he looked inside. “Oh, shit!”
Bridget moved toward Aaron. “What did Joel do now?” She looked inside and screamed.
“I don’t think Joel did anything,” Aaron said as he pushed her from the doorway. He walked inside and heard Bridget crying outside the door. Aaron looked at his best friend and girlfriend; their bodies cut up badly. They were hanging from their ankles. Blood still dripped from their lifeless bodies. Aaron could not hold it in any longer and threw up. When he finished and cleaned his face, Aaron asked Bridget, “you ok? They are dead but it’s going to be all right; we will get out of here. Bridget?”
She did not answer him.
Aaron ran out the door, she was gone. “Bridget, where are you?” He walked out of the secret room, down the hallway and back into the living room. The whole time he called for Bridget, only silence returned his call. “Oh shit, not Bridget too.”
He wandered the downstairs looking for Bridget. He heard a noise from upstairs, over his head in the room with dried blood. Aaron ran up the stairs two at a time, reached the door and flung it open; the room was empty. He walked into the room and saw the bookcase slightly pulled forward. It was another secret passage.
Aaron walked in; candles lit the way down some stairs. The steps ended in a room, the same room as his butchered friends. “At least I don’t see Bridget in here.” He quickly walked toward the other door.
He went into the room with the pentagram; lit candles now sat on the floor. He heard a noise across from him, in the shadows. As his eyes adjusted to dimness from the candle light, Aaron saw a tall figure. “Who the hell are you?” He shouted. “Where is my friend?”
The figure moved closer into the candle light.
Aaron saw Bridget, one strong arm around her waist and the other holding a butcher knife to her throat. “Let her go,” he screamed.
The figure laughed and said, “You all are brave coming here, especially tonight; even after my warning, it’s been five years.”
“That’s only a legend.”
The figure stepped out of the shadows and the candles lit up his face. “Is it?” He asked.
The man before him repulsed Aaron, his whole body was burned and flakes of charred skin hung off his face.
“In five years, I was told to come back and finish my work,” the man said.
“You’re the doctor.”
“At your service.” The doctor bowed, stood back up and said, “I’m trying to please my father, so I can live forever. This is my last sacrifice, the thirteenth and you can witness the greatest power of all.”
Aaron glanced at Bridget and asked, “father, what father?”
“Satan, my boy, Satan,” the doctor said and walked to the center of the pentagram. “Care to join me and live forever?”
“No, thank-you, I’ll pass this time,” Aaron said as he looked at Bridget again.
The doctor looked shocked and he asked Aaron, “don’t you want to live forever?”
“No, I don’t,” Aaron said. “Are you alive or dead?”
“I am alive; my master kept me alive for five years so I could come back and finish my thirteenth sacrifice. All these years, I hid out here just waiting for tonight. Waiting is very hard when all those kids kept coming here every year. Anyone could have been the one, but my father wanted me to wait five years and now is the time.”
While the doctor talked, Aaron pulled out his pocketknife and opened it. It was worth a shot, the doctor was still alive; what other choice did he have. He suddenly had a thought, what if he did not die. Aaron would have saved Bridget, but what about the kids that would surely come tonight. Aaron asked the doctor, “what would happen if you do not get your thirteenth sacrifice tonight?”
The doctor looked at Aaron, smiled and said, “that won’t happen; you can’t stop me. So there is no point in even trying.”
Disgusted by the doctor’s lopsided smile, Aaron said, “no, that is true, I can’t do anything to stop you. I’m just curious, hell you are a legend and I want to know everything. Since you’re not going to kill me, I can let your legend live on forever.”
The doctor smiled again and said, “if I don’t get my thirteenth sacrifice, which I will, my father would be very angry with me. He will cast me into hell where I will burn for eternity.”
“So you wouldn’t get another chance,” Aaron said.
“No, I wouldn’t, this is my only chance at everlasting life.”
“Good, glad to hear it.” Aaron threw the knife, praying it would hit its target. It was a dead on throw.
The butcher knife fell to the floor and so did the doctor.
Bridget turned, looked at the man and said, “good throw, your grandfather taught you well.”
Aaron walked to the doctor and looked down on him. The knife struck him right between the eyes, piercing the brain. As they watched, his body caught on fire. The flames continued until the body was nothing but ashes, then the fire died out. “Have fun burning in hell for eternity,” Aaron said. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” He reached down and grabbed his knife; then took Bridget’s hand.
They walked out of the secret room and into the living room. As the two walked toward the front door, it opened. Aaron and Bridget looked at each other and said at once, “it opened!”
A group of young teenagers walked in.
Bridget and Aaron walked by them and out the door. He stopped, turned toward the group of kids and said, “you kids have a good time.” Aaron turned and followed Bridget down the steps. Just as they were getting into the car, Aaron and Bridget heard a scream from inside the house. Aaron smiled at Bridget and said, “Happy Halloween!”
Kaitlin’s curiosity about an old mirror she found haunts her days forever when a demon steals her soul, but will she succeed in getting it back.
Kaitlin sat her bags and purse down on the floor. Her purse fell open and makeup spilled out. “Oh, shit,” she said as she got down on her knees and collected her makeup.
It was Kaitlin’s thirteenth birthday; and as a treat, her parents took her to Devils Island. Since Kaitlin was now a teenager, her parents let her stay in a cabin by herself.
Devil’s Island is off the coast of Michigan, on Lake Superior. There were cabins scattered around the island. Most of the island was unpopulated, except for the park ranger’s office and twenty cabins.
The cabin was small and rustic, surrounded by tall pine trees. Her parent’s cabin was about ten feet from her. The moment she stepped onto the porch a feeling of excitement and fear overtook her. For the first time, she was on her own, but with mom and dad close by it was comforting. When she walked into her cabin and saw that it was not much. There was only one room with a table, bed and two chairs.
Kaitlin looked under her bed to retrieve her mascara when she saw it. She pulled it out to get a better look. It was a mirror, and it looked very old. A chill ran down her spine, there was something eerie about the mirror as she looked at her reflection. A knock on the door startled her and Kaitlin pushed the mirror hastily back under the bed.
“Kaitlin, are you ready to come out and eat? Your dad’s almost got dinner done.”
“I’ll be right out,” Kaitlin said and she crammed the rest of her makeup back into her purse and went outside.
After dinner and spending time with her parents, Kaitlin was getting anxious to spend time alone and to have another look at the mirror. “I’m beginning to get tired; I think I’ll go on in now.”
“Ok, good night sweetie, remember if you get lonely or scared just come on over,” her mother said.
“Yeah, we won’t think less of you,” her dad said.
“I will, don’t worry about me,” Kaitlin said as she stood up and hugged her parents. She walked to her cabin.
“Good night dear,” her mother said. “Happy birthday.”
“Yeah, happy birthday,” her dad told her.
“Thank you,” Kaitlin said as she walked into her cabin and shut the door. She was now alone. Kaitlin looked out her window and waited. After a few minutes, her parents walked into their cabin holding hands. The lights soon went out.
Kaitlin ran to the bed and pulled out the mirror. She went to the table and sat it down in front of her. She looked into the glass, but now her image did not reflect back. Suddenly fear overcame her but she just shrugged her shoulders. “It’s just a mirror, the glass must be dirty.” She used her shirt to clean it, but still no reflection. All she saw was a smoky mist; Kaitlin looked closer. The mist looked as if it was moving. “That’s impossible,” she said to herself. Moving away from the mirror, Kaitlin looked at the other features.
Kaitlin ran her fingers over the side; the mirror was oval, with wide gold trim around the glass. On closer inspection, Kaitlin noticed designs on the trim; it looked like children with hollow, empty eyes all around the edges. Their arms and legs intertwined with each other. Kaitlin shivered.
She began to get nervous, but continued to inspect more of the mirror anyway and turned it over; the back was black and had words written on it. “That looks like blood,” Kaitlin said as she ran her fingers over the letters. She quickly pulled her hand away. “Damn, that’s hot!” Kaitlin looked at her fingers and saw that they were red and a blister began to form on one finger. She put the finger in her mouth to calm the burning sensation she felt. Kaitlin looked again at the words, she read aloud:
come forth Belial
rise up from the abyss
I command you to come forth NOW
Kaitlin screamed as the mirror began to shake, she let go of it and the mirror fell with the glass side up. The mist was black now and moving more quickly, she saw lightening flash in the glass. The table began to shake; Kaitlin was thrown across the room.
She crouched down on the floor next to the bed. The cabin began to shake and the lights began to flicker. The temperature inside the little cabin dropped dramatically. Kaitlin shivered, her eyes never left the mirror. On the table, a ball of fire appeared from the mirror. Cackling filled the interior of the small cabin; Kaitlin closed her eyes and put her head down. There was a loud bang and then silence. She hesitatingly looked up and screamed.
Standing before her was a hideous beast. It stood about seven feet tall, and was the color of blood. Its arms were long and had claws for hands. Its legs were long stumps, which looked as if it was standing on stilts. His head was as large as a watermelon and long spiked horns covered his head like hair. Its mouth had pointed teeth that stuck out in all directions. It had no nose and its eyes were just slits that were black as coal.
Looking into his eyes made Kaitlin shiver again and it felt like her very soul had turned to ice. She looked away, and did not know what to do. Kaitlin thought about running for it and glanced at the door. It must have realized what she was thinking because it reappeared in front of the door. This made Kaitlin jump.
It spoke to her, “Hello Kaitlin.”
Its voice was deep and metallic, it made Kaitlin’s ears hurt. The words came from its unmoving mouth. She stared; her mouth hung open from shock. Finally, her voice quivering, she spoke to it, “how did you know my name?”
“I know everyone.”
Her ears rang badly.
It continued, “thanks for reawaking me, twelve more souls is all I need then I can rule the earth. Thirteen souls bring me to life. Ironic how my first soul just turned thirteen.” It laughed.
Kaitlin put her hands to her ears, she felt them pulsating as if they were about to explode. It dawned on her what he said. “You are going to kill me.”
“How else would I get the souls I need,” It said.
Closer it moved toward Kaitlin, she cringed closer into the bed. It soon engulfed her; she had nowhere to run, Kaitlin was trapped. It held open its arms and the claws came closer; her scream became stifled as it held her in his long arms, the breath of life sucked from her. Kaitlin was dead and had no soul.
Kaitlin had awoken, but knew she had died. She was alert and saw the familiar cabin. Kaitlin looked around and saw her lifeless body huddled by the bed. Her empty eyes were wide with horror. Her mouth stretched out in a scream that never came to be. Kaitlin began to shake her head fiercely and began to back away from her frigid body. She began to say repeatedly, “no, it can’t be!”
While backing away, she realized the table was behind her. Kaitlin turned and saw that half of the table was in front of her, and the other half was behind. She looked down and saw her body standing in the middle of it. Kaitlin screamed, but it was a scream only she heard. She ran out of the table.
A white light shimmered down, Kaitlin watched as it filtered into the cabin. She felt at peace. The light turned brighter and brighter until it filled the whole cabin.
Then suddenly the light disappeared and standing before her was a beautiful man. His blonde hair hung softly at his shoulders. His clothing was a white robe tied at the waist with a golden rope. The skin almost glowed with the radiance of the sun; eyes were as blue as the sky on a beautiful summer’s day and his wings stretched out behind him. He smiled at her and said, “my poor child.”
“You’re an angel, are you going to take me to heaven?”
“Alas, my child, I am not. In your life, you have done many good things. You went to church faithfully, and obeyed all of God’s commandments. I am afraid; the words that came from your lips conjured something that was pure evil, although you did not know. You invited back into this realm, a demon. So accidentally you have sinned a great sin.”
“What will happen to me?” Kaitlin asked.
“You are in what these earthlings call limbo, and here you will remain. But you do receive one and only one chance to redeem yourself,” he told her.
“What can I do?”
“The evil you set free has to kill thirteen times and will live to destroy everyone on the earth. It has only twelve more chances to sacrifice. You can prove yourself to God if you save the next twelve lives of pure and good people. That is who he will destroy, only the good. Then when he fails to kill and collect the next twelve souls he tries for, the demon will sleep again.”
“But what if he tries to kill someone bad?” She asked.
“You shall be damned for eternity but you don’t have to worry, he will only kill the good,” he said.
Kaitlin looked at the angel and said, “all I have to do is save the twelve people he will kill and I can go to heaven?”
The angel smiled again and said, “remember you only have one chance.” The glow became brighter and it disappeared. The cabin went dark again.
“How am I going to save twelve people?” Kaitlin asked her lifeless body. There was no reply.
The next morning, there were screams and sirens, and many people that came and went. Kaitlin watched her parent’s cry, her mother screamed continuously. The police questioned everyone on the island. No one knew anything, of course. Her corpse was taking away on a stretcher, still in the crouched position; her knees pulled up into her chest. Kaitlin thought about the undertaker trying to straighten her legs to fit her in the coffin. Probably a closed one because Kaitlin believed the look of horror etched into her face can never be erased.
She watched the park rangers clean the cabin and get it ready for the next victims.
The mirror was gone; Kaitlin noticed that when the demon appeared. The officers who had investigated never saw it and did not question it.
Kaitlin saw people come and go; the angel was correct the evil one only chose the good people to try to kill. The first two victims to be were an elderly couple. She knew they were going to be the first because Kaitlin felt the demon’s presence close by. The couple said their prayers before turning in for the night. The evil was getting closer; Kaitlin could feel it. She had to do something, but did not know what. It suddenly occurred to her that she was a ghost; Kaitlin began to haunt them.
She moved in closer to the old woman; the lady began to complain about a chill. Kaitlin smiled, and touched the woman on the shoulder. The old woman jumped about one foot into the air and screamed. The old couple became frightened, they glanced about the room but of course, they did not see anything.
Kaitlin began moving furniture around. She had learned that trick after the third day of her death. The couple jumped to their feet. The demon came closer. Kaitlin did not know what else to do, then she had an idea; she grabbed their suitcases and threw them out the door. They finally got the hint and scrambled towards the door. Kaitlin lightly kicked them in the butt; they screamed and ran out of the cabin, into the night. Kaitlin could hear them screaming in the woods. The old woman was in her long, cotton nightgown and him in boxers with red lips all over it.
“You bitch!” The mechanical voice screeched and then the demons presence vanished.
Kaitlin smiled and said, “ten more souls to save.”
She had scared the other people too; they all ran into the woods screaming. Most of them were still in their pajamas. Kaitlin saved a baby; the parents were young and partied. Kaitlin knew when she felt the presence creeping closer, that it was the baby in danger. The baby was asleep in the playpen while his parents were outside drinking with friends. Kaitlin panicked, how could she get the parents attention to come and get the baby. Kaitlin ran to the window. The parents and their friends were all at the picnic table; music blared from the stereo. “There is no way they could hear me make noise.”
The evil presence became stifling; soon it would be there and claim his next victim, an innocent baby. Kaitlin desperately looked around the room, there has to be a way.
She ran to the baby and looked down on him; he was awake and looking at her. Kaitlin smiled, he smiled back at her. “He can see me,” Kaitlin said, “if I can move objects, maybe I could pick him up.” Laughter began to fill the room; the baby stopped smiling and looked scared. Kaitlin reached down to grab the infant. “Lord, help me.” Kaitlin put her hands under him; she could feel his weight. She lifted him up into her arms. Kaitlin held him to her body; she could feel his warmth radiating from his skin. Kaitlin held the baby in her arms for a moment longer; sadness and longing filled her.
Laughter filled the room, mechanical and loud, the baby began to cry. Kaitlin ran to the door and flung it open. Surprisingly everyone heard the door crash open and turned toward the cabin. The father fell off the table and everyone stared at the floating baby in the doorway. Kaitlin could not walk outside the cabin, so she prayed that one of them would grab the baby.
After a few moments, the initial shock gave way to panic. The mother came slowly toward the doorway and snatched the baby from Kaitlin’s hands. She watched as the mother held her baby tightly and the wicked laughter faded away. The young couple and their child left for home.
Amber was six years old and the sweetest girl Kaitlin ever met. Amber’s father received a raise at work, so they celebrated by staying at the cabin for a week. Just as the baby could see her, so could Amber.
Kaitlin enjoyed having Amber around; they would talk into the night. The next night, Amber told Kaitlin of her day at the beach; her parents were outside, watching the stars. Kaitlin shivered the ominous presence she dreaded began to approach. Laughter filled the cabin.
“What’s that?” Amber said as she jumped to her feet.
“Something really bad, you have to go now, leave this place.”
Tears welled up in the child’s eyes as she said, “but, but, my mommy and daddy!”
“Tell them that you all have to go,” Kaitlin told her.
“But,” Amber stammered.
Kaitlin screamed, “GO!”
Amber ran to the door and flung it open, she ran to her parents crying. Her father picked her up and brought Amber back into the cabin.
“No!” Kaitlin screamed, “don’t bring her back in here!”
“We gotta go; a bad thing is going to hurt us!” Amber told her parents.
“Nothing is going to hurt you here, sweetie, your safe,” her dad told her.
Kaitlin wondered why Amber’s parents did not hear the mechanical laughter that penetrated the walls of the cabin. Amber was plugging her ears from the annoying loudness, but her parents acted as if nothing was happening. Maybe only children heard the ear piercing laughter; the little ones could see her, so they probably could hear the evil laughter, also.
Obviously, Amber’s parents were not listening to her; it was up to Kaitlin to help. She did not want Amber to die. Kaitlin went to the table and flipped it over.
Amber’s parents jumped, but they did not leave. Kaitlin began to throw things at them, careful not to hit Amber. Finally, they got the hint and left. As they quickly got their clothes around, Amber ran to Kaitlin and hugged her.
Amber and her parents walked out the door; Kaitlin was alone. The evil faded away again.
Next was an older couple in their forty’s; Kaitlin did what was in her power to get them out of the cabin. They were quite stubborn at first until Kaitlin pulled out their suitcase and started packing for them. The couple just stood there with their mouths open and watched as Kaitlin packed. When she finished, Kaitlin threw the suitcase out the door. She saved two more souls.
The next two victims would have been an underage couple. They came into the cabin giggling, put their bags down and started kissing by the open door. The pair looked to be about fifteen or sixteen years old. Sneaking away together for each other’s first time, Kaitlin could not believe that kids that young were having sex. She used to think about kissing boys, but never anything more.
A voice called from outside, “you two can wait till later.” She could hear more giggling. Kaitlin looked out the window and saw another young couple. The two separated and went outside with their friends. Soon darkness descended on them and the young couples went into their cabins.
Kaitlin watched with growing curiosity at the young couple who was kissing again.
His hands reached for places that were private. Soon they were undressed and in the bed, bodies intertwined. Kaitlin watched the young couple until she felt the evil growing stronger, and the mechanical laughter soon began. “Oh, no!” Kaitlin thought.
“What was that?” The young lady asked her boyfriend.
“I don’t know, maybe its animals outside,” he told her.
Kaitlin was shocked. “They heard it, but how? Nobody could hear it, except the baby and Amber. They were children; maybe these two are just young enough to hear it also.”
Laughter sounded again, louder and much closer, Kaitlin watched their reactions.
They both jumped. “It’s coming from in here,” the girl said.
“Don’t be stupid, it’s not in here, it’s just the animals,” he said but did not sound assured though.
The young couple sat in bed and waited, the laughter was getting louder. Kaitlin waited for them to panic and run out the door, they never did. The mechanical laughter was closing in around them. Kaitlin knew it was up to her to get them moving outside. She knew they would hear her, so she screamed, “get out!”
The young girl jumped and so did him, right out of bed and struggled to get his pants on. Kaitlin screamed again for them to get out and that time the girl screamed and pointed right at Kaitlin. Her boyfriend looked and all he could say was, “oh, shit!” Then he grabbed a hold of his girlfriend’s arm and then grabbed her clothes with his other hand. He ran to the door. The girlfriend still pointed and screamed as he dragged her out of the cabin.
“She saw me, that girl saw me and I scared her,” Kaitlin said sadly, while the mechanical laughter died away.
The next day the couple’s friend came in, collected the rest of their belongings, and took off real quick out of the little cabin. That was the last Kaitlin saw of them, she wondered if the young couple had yet lost their innocence.
The tenth was much more difficult to scare away. He was a minister, secluded away in the cabin for some closeness with God. In the end, it took many tricks to make him leave. He did not go screaming through the woods; he quietly packed his suitcase and left. The minister may have felt the evil presence closing in on him.
The next two people the demon went after was a businessman and his wife which both looked to be in their twenties. He was sitting at the table with all his paperwork around him, trying hard to write out some proposal so he could get a promotion at work. Kaitlin heard him tell his wife who was sitting on the bed, asking him to go for a walk with her.
It did not take much for them to leave the cabin though for good; Kaitlin threw all his papers into the air and watched as the young man scrambled to pick up the scattered proposal. After doing that about four times, while his wife screamed, the man finally took the hint and they fled the haunted cabin. Kaitlin laughed as the mechanical laughter faded away once again.
The twelfth person Kaitlin had to save, what would have been the thirteenth, roared in on a motorcycle. He had long hair and tattoos. She thought that this man will be more difficult to scare and Kaitlin was right. It had taken all her strength. She felt the demon moving in closer. Kaitlin was desperate; nothing was working. She decided it was up to her personally to get him out of the cabin.
The evil came closer; she began to hear the grating laughter. Kaitlin opened the door to the cabin; she then lured him to the door. When he stood in front of the doorway, she pushed him with all her strength. The man flew out of the cabin ten feet and landed on his back. Kaitlin had saved the twelfth person.
Laughter filled the cabin. Kaitlin looked around, “what are you laughing about, you didn’t kill thirteen people. You cannot come to life.”
“I’m laughing because, yes I have to sleep again, but I can be reawakened. I will get another chance to live. You, my dear, had only one chance.”
The demon began to laugh again and the sound of his evil grating laugh faded away to silence.
Light began to fill the room; Kaitlin was ready to go up into heaven. A voice spoke to her from the light. “You have failed to redeem yourself.”
“What! What do you mean; I have saved twelve lives, just as you told me to. I did what was asked, what do you mean, I want to go now,” she said.
“You were to save twelve good people; people that are innocent of evil, you failed to do that.”
Kaitlin began to panic, “you are mistaken, they were all good. There were children, an old couple that prayed and even a minister. They were all good people.”
“Except the last one, “the angel said.
“What are you saying? The evil came only when it was someone good. The demon came after him.”
“Alas, my child, you were tricked. The man you just saved was in league with the evil one. The man you saved was one of Satan’s true followers. He kills in Lucifer’s name. You saved evil from evil, I’m sorry.”
“No, it can’t be, that’s not fair,” Kaitlin screamed.
The light faded to darkness; Kaitlin screamed, but no one heard; her spirit now forever trapped inside the small cabin. Through the years, she saw many faces come and go. Day after day, night after lonely night her spirit drifted around the cabin. Watching the people around her, so alive and free, able to come and go whenever they pleased.
Kaitlin could only watch the world change from within the confines of the cabin looking out the window watching the years go slowly by.
Twenty years later, a young woman of about nineteen walked in. “Anna, are you coming?” a voice asked from outside.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute, I wanna put my stuff away. I’ll catch up with you.”
Kaitlin watched her shut the door and put her bag on the bed. Anna looked about the room. She was smiling; her long, brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. Kaitlin longed for her tan face that was full of life.
After surveying the room, she went to put her purse on the bed; she missed the bed and it fell on the floor. All the contents spilled out under the bed.
Kaitlin had perked up, she thought back long ago.
Anna got on her knees and began to fill her purse back up; she reached under the bed.
Kaitlin became nervous; it was like watching herself many years earlier.
The young woman swiped something with her hand. “What’s this?”
Kaitlin knew what it was; if she were alive, her heart would probably be exploding. “No, please, no; not that.” Nobody heard her
Anna grabbed and pulled out the old mirror. “What is this doing under the bed?” She sat the mirror down on the table.
“A demon from Hell put it there,” Kaitlin said to Anna, but of course, she did not hear her.
The young woman turned the mirror over. “There’s something written here.” Anna read the words aloud.
“Noooo!” Kaitlin screamed.
Deep and metallic laughter filled the room; Anna’s ears began to ring painfully.
A young girl is lost in the woods until she sees a lonely fire where something dark hides and waits for someone unknowingly to walk into his trap.
Jessica walked through the dark, lonesome woods; she was lost. Jessica wandered away from the camp to go exploring. As she walked on the twisted dirt path, the moon’s luminous light led her way. A small movement near the path’s edge caught her eye. Jessica paused, trying to see what moved in the shadows. As she slowly walked closer, a black cat sauntered out of the bushes and crossed the path directly in front of her. Jessica jumped in fright and her heart skipped a few beats.
Once the shock of the cat’s sudden appearance wore off and Jessica’s heartbeat returned to normal, she spoke to the cat, “you are lucky I’m not superstitious.” Jessica smiled at how an innocent kitty had scared her so much. She began to walk along the path again, trying hard to find the way back to the campsite.
Jessica saw a glow in front of her, deep in the woods. It was off the path that she was walking on. The decision to stay with the path or go off on her own weighed heavily on her mind. Jessica wanted to know what caused the mysterious spark but she also was afraid to leave the path.
Jessica finally chose her desired course and walked into the thick trees off the path. As she moved closer, Jessica saw that the glow was a campfire. New hope filled her soul; she was not lost anymore. Jessica walked closer and then paused to glance around her; she hoped to catch a glimpse of someone, anyone at all, but no one was around. Her heart sank; she was still lost.
Jessica decided to sit down and rest next to the fire. She needed to think about what she was going to do next. At first, the sound was faint, barely heard. Jessica thought she had imagined it. A tree moved; there was someone or something out there in the shadows beyond the fire. She at first thought it was the black cat again, but the movement the tree made was by something much larger. Jessica was scared, so frightened that she could not move.
The noise grew louder. It was moving in on her. Closer, closer, closer and closer it came; soon whatever it was, would be in the open area by the fire and by Jessica. The frightened girl stared in silence as it emerged from the trees. Her face showed pure terror. One large scaly hand reached for her. Jessica’s scream grew into a startling silence.
He turned toward the fire; his large frame formed an eerie shadow from the flames. He put his razor sharp fingers towards his mouth and tasted the blood that still clung to the long nails. He smacked his lips, savoring the blood sliding down his throat. He slowly crept away from the clearing, back into the shadows and silently began to wait.
The quiet, peaceful night continued. The stars brilliance shined down from the black dome of the sky. The moon continued to shine down on the silent woods as the black cat sat down and began to clean his paws in the glow of a lonely fire.
Misty sees spirits but does not like it, she thinks of it as a curse. Her husband has her confront a ghost from her past and he leads them to his gold coins but his killer arrives to claim what was not his.
Misty ran up to her husband and put the papers she had copied in his face. “It’s him, it’s really him. I can’t believe it, it’s really him!”
Brian, Misty’s husband, looked up from the television when she barged through the door. “What happened?”
“I actually found him!” Misty said excitedly.
“Who, will you tell me what happened?” Her husband looked bewildered.
The excitement even brought her children into the room, seven-year-old Belle and three-year-old Jacob.
“What’s going on?” Belle asked.
“The old guy on the porch, the guy I saw at Suntree,” Misty began excitedly.
“What about him?” Brian knew all about the curse.
“I was at the library getting some research on St. Johns. The librarian brought a real old book about the ancestors of St. Johns. I was looking through it when I saw this,” Misty said as she held out the paper. On it was an old man sitting on a chair. He was on the front porch of a two story white house. “This is the guy I saw at Suntree.”
Brian took the paper and studied it. “It does look like the description you gave us. Have you read the article on him?”
“No. I just saw him and came right home after I copied it. What does it say?”
“It says: Jasper Alcott was a prominent man who lived in the woodsy area near the south-west of town. He lived alone after his wife, Edith, passed away. A mystery surrounds this sixty-one year old man. He disappeared on July 5, 1855. Blood found on his porch was the only clue to his demise. Who murdered him, no one knows. His killer and his body were never found. Rumor had it that he had a bag of gold coins. His killer may have been trying to get it from Jasper. The gold is only a legend; nobody has ever found the gold coins.”
“Wow, he disappeared.” Misty was fascinated.
Brian smiled, “That’s probably why he wanted your help. It sure seems he needs your help to find his body and that gold of his.”
“The gold is only a legend, there isn’t any treasure. His body though, we could never find that now,” Misty said.
“We could, we do know that there is no building on the spot. His bones would’ve been dug up when they did the foundations.” Brian was interested.
“The whole area is large, how could we find buried bones. It would be like a needle in a haystack.” Misty was not as excited as Brian.
“Let’s get your mom to watch the kids and go to Suntree apartments,” Brian was up and started getting ready to leave.
Misty could not get excited. Her mother was more than happy to watch the kids. “Some help she is,” Misty thought to herself.
She sat in their Ford Explorer and headed towards the place where Misty dreaded the most. “How are we supposed to find a burial place from centuries ago? Odds are against us,” Misty said.
“We will,” Brian said.
Some people say that she has a gift, but Misty thought differently.
“I’m cursed,” she would say. Misty saw things that nobody else could see. She was able to predict fires and see ghosts. Misty repressed her gift-curse after she could not stop a tragedy from happening.
She had lived in an apartment complex, when she was twelve years old; six buildings surrounded a courtyard. Her bedroom window was a perfect place to see people in the courtyard and see the other buildings. Across the street was a little park where the children would play.
Misty spent a lot of time out there, keeping an eye on some of the little children. Misty was especially fond of Elizabeth, she was two years old and adorable. Her brother Andrew was four years old. Their parents always sent them outside alone. Therefore, Misty took it upon herself to watch out for them, especially her precious Elizabeth. Misty found out the hard way that she could not always protect her.
The night when Misty’s gift ended and her curse began was a normal night like any other. Misty lay on the couch and watched television. She was comfortable and enjoyed a movie. Suddenly Misty felt warm and she was getting warmer. Soon she was hot; the heat became unbearable. Sweat fell off her body; her clothes became wet. Misty sat up, flames jumped up all around her. She wanted to scream out, but Misty could not. She thought that she would burn to death.
Flames of red and orange danced all around her. All she could do was sit and watch, as the flames grew taller. Suddenly as quickly the heat started, it ended. Then the cold came.
Misty wrapped her arms around herself; she shivered. There was darkness, where just a few seconds ago was an inferno. Everywhere she looked was a black void.
Misty could not see. As she began to panic even more, it was over. The blackness faded, she saw the light from the lamp.
Everything in the apartment was there untouched. The movie still played and Misty warmed up, back to her normal temperature. She laid back down, in shock. “What the hell was that?” Misty put the strange incident out of her mind and finished watching her movie. After the movie, she went to bed.
During the night, Misty heard something in her dreams. Horror ran through her body. She sat up in bed and screamed, “fire!” She jumped out of bed and ran to her window. Misty looked out, she saw someone running around the courtyard. He was screaming but Misty could not hear what he said. She looked to her left and began to shake. “Fire!” Misty repeated over and over becoming louder until she screamed it. Her mother came into the bedroom to calm Misty, even though she was visibly upset herself.
Misty continued to stare out the window, as she watched the firefighters put out the blaze. As the fire slowly disappeared, dread filled her up. Misty knew what apartment the flames were taking over. Guilt began to ease into her consciousness.
A firefighter came around checking out the other buildings. Misty asked the dreaded question, his answer stabbed her in the heart. The blade twisted deep into her soul, with each word.
He told her, “A four year old boy was playing with some matches and started a fire. The four year old survived but we couldn’t save his two year old sister, she died in the fire.”
Misty screamed; her sweet Elizabeth was gone. Misty believed she could have prevented it. She saw and gone through everything Elizabeth went through.
That morning, depressed and angry with herself, Misty went for a walk in the courtyard. She looked up at the gutted out black apartment. Appearing before her eyes was a little girl looking out from the wreckage. Elizabeth stared down at her with sad eyes. Misty knew her spirit would never rest. It was all Misty’s fault. The ghost disappeared. Misty’s curse had begun. It was over; she had decided to block the curse from ever happening again. Misty had succeeded. Through the years, she never felt what she did that night. Misty never saw flames or felt the cold and darkness again.
The other part of the curse, Misty could not block. Most of the time she would ignore it; the ghosts scared Misty. She would sometimes tell them to leave her alone; if other people were around, Misty would get many strange looks. Some people believed her to be insane, because no one else could see them.
Once word spread around, people would want her to talk to their dead friends and relatives. She would tell them that the spirits came to her; she did not go searching for them.
The most haunted place in St. Johns was Suntree Apartments. Rumors about the place been told many times, strange things were always happening. The land that the complex sat on had many restless spirits.
One time Misty and some friends visited someone at the apartments. They were all sitting in the living room talking, when Misty saw something. She saw a white two-story house with a wide porch with four pillars in the front. On the porch, standing in front of the wooden steps was an old man. He was about six feet and muscular. His gray hair was short and his dark skin wrinkled. He looked to be about sixty years old.
He wore a white shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. He had on worn out blue jeans and on his feet was a pair of weathered brown work boots. He spoke to her, “help me, please, help me.”
Misty tried her best to ignore him but he kept pleading with her. She gave up and said to him, “I can’t help you, leave me alone!” He faded away. Misty again saw the living room and everyone stared at her. Only one person at the apartment knew of Misty’s curse and that was her best friend, Kim.
There were other places on and off through the years, that she saw ghosts. Misty would ignore them until they went away. She did not want anything to do with her sixth sense. It was a curse.
Too soon, Brian and Misty pulled into the apartment complex. There was eight, two story buildings scattered all over. There was one big building, which housed the older people. All sides of the parcel of land were streets and restaurants, except on one side that was a small woods and a creek.
“So what apartment were you in when you saw the old guy?” Brian asked Misty.
Misty looked around, all the buildings looked alike. “That was a long time ago, I don’t remember.”
“Well, we will just walk around the grounds and see what happens, or manifests itself.” Brian looked at Misty.
She knew what he meant; he wanted to walk around so the ghost will show itself to her again. Then she was to talk to it. Misty was not thrilled about seeing a ghost again.
She did not like them; they had scared her too much. Especially one spirit long ago of a little girl; Misty shook away the memory and ran to catch up to Brian.
“Feel anything, Mist?” Brian asked.
“Yes, I’m feeling stupid!” She answered.
He stopped, looked at her and said, “funny, aren’t we?”
Misty was just about to say something when she froze. A spine tingling chill went through her body, Misty’s stomach began to turn and breathing became difficult. “Oh, shit!”
Brian knew that faraway look; he ran back to the truck and got a shovel. He returned to Misty’s side and waited anxiously. Her eyes were off in the distance, seeing something that was only in the past.
He looked around and saw nothing out of the ordinary. One side of him was the apartments and on the other side was the woods and creek. Brian looked at Misty and waited.
Misty saw the two story white house with the porch. The old man, Jasper Alcott, was not standing by the steps; he was sitting on a chair. She felt someone beside her; Misty turned her head slowly and saw a man. He was in his thirty’s and had black hair. He wore a red and black checkered flannel shirt and dirty blue jean overalls.
He did not look Misty’s way as he walked up to the house.
Jasper stood up and walked to the steps. The other man walked toward him. Jasper stepped back as the other man walked up the stairs. Misty could not hear the voices, but could tell they were arguing.
Suddenly Misty saw the younger man pull out a Bowie knife and began to stab at Jasper. Misty wanted to scream, but she could not as blood flew all around her. The murderer stopped when Jasper fell down, dead on the porch. The younger man dragged Jasper off the porch and toward Misty. He walked past her and continued toward the creek, but what she saw was not a creek; it was a small river. The man let go of the body and it dropped. Misty could not see Jasper’s face, but knew she did not want to anyway. The other man disappeared.
Brian watched Misty, then to where she stared. Try as hard as he could, he did not see anything. After about ten minutes of waiting, Misty turned slowly as if she was watching someone or something. She then stopped when she faced the creek. That was all the movement Misty did, so he continued to wait.
Misty was startled when the man reappeared again, with a shovel. He began to dig a hole. He dug awhile and then he kicked the dead body into the shallow grave, than he began to fill the hole in. After the man finished, he disappeared.
She stared at the fresh grave, when Jasper sat up in it. Misty jumped. He rose up and stood on his own grave. Misty walked hesitantly toward the grave, toward Jasper.
Brian saw Misty jump and then began to walk; he followed. Misty stopped, pointed down and told him to dig. Brian obeyed and began to dig. He heard a voice behind him, Brian and Misty both jumped and turned; a real man stood there.
“What the hell are you two doing?” The man asked.
“Digging for buried treasure,” Brian said with a sheepish grin.
Misty spoke up, “Jasper Alcott was murdered and buried here.”
“Who?” The man asked.
Brian said to the man, “just humor her.”
“Alright, but you better fill that hole in when you’re done.”
“We will, thank-you,” Brian said and continued to dig.
He dug for a while, Misty and the other man watched. There was a thud, he had hit something and lifted it up. It was a bone. The other man quickly became interested and joined Brian in the hole; soon Brian was holding a skull in his hands.
“How did you know? When did this happen?” The man asked wide-eyed.
“In 1855,” Misty said.
The man climbed out of the hole and said, “I need to get the police, I think!” He ran toward an apartment.
Brian continued to dig for the whole skeleton as Misty watched. A shiver crept down her spine and she turned: Jasper was there, again. She did not think about how scared she was of ghosts; Misty decided to talk to him, “who did this to you?”
“Why?” Misty asked.
Jasper walked across the creek and stopped. He pointed down. “Dig.”
Misty grabbed the shovel from her husband, walked across the creek, and started to dig where he indicated. She hit something.
Misty reached her hand in the hole; Brian walked up and crouched next to her. She felt something soft; Misty grabbed it and pulled it out. It was a medium sized drawstring bag, made out of black velvet. Misty opened it and poured the contents in her hands.
A bunch of shiny gold coins filled her hand and there was more in the bag. Brian and Misty looked at each other, shock showed on both faces.
Misty looked up at Jasper; he smiled for the first time and said, “Thank-you.” Then he disappeared.
“Well, we now know the legend was true. Do you still think you have a curse?” Brian asked her.
Misty looked down at the coins in her hand, and then looked at Brian; she smiled and said, “no, I have a gift.”
“No, I do,” a voice said.
Brian and Misty saw a tall shadow from the setting sun in front of them. They froze and slowly turned their heads. Seeing the figure behind them, Brian jumped up to his feet and Misty fell down as she screamed.
Standing there with his hands on his hips stood Angus Sullivan; in the flesh, some flesh. His overalls littered with holes, with the bones and tendons showing through the large gaps in the material. The flannel shirt had even more holes, the color faded. What was left of his black hair was slightly covering up his skull. His eyes dried up into the sockets, no nose and his lips were dried maggots that formed into a grotesque grin. The smell of rot hung about the air around him.
“I do believe those gold coins belong to me,” Angus said.
“No, there not,” Misty said as she jumped to her feet and backed away.
“I believe they are, missy,” he told her as he walked closer.
Misty looked to Brian, he was still standing in the same spot, he never moved.
Brian’s eyes were wide and his mouth was open, Misty realized that he could see Angus too, but how. She turned back toward Angus; he stood right there. Face to face with his rotted corpse, Misty fought the urge to vomit from the decay that wafted off the decomposing flesh. She backed up again, he moved forward.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brian finally move and lift up the shovel. Brian came up from behind and swung. Angus turned suddenly and grabbed the shovel before it made an impact. Angus then swung the shovel at Brian and it connected, Brian went down.
“You bastard,” Misty said and went to push him; her hand went through his shirt and between his ribs. Angus laughed as Misty wrenched her hand free.
“Give me the coins, I may be dead but I can still hurt you,” Angus said as he put his hand behind his back and pulled out the Bowie knife, Jasper’s blood was dried onto the blade.
Misty took a few steps back but before he could go toward her the shovel came down on the hand that held the knife, it fell to the ground. Both Misty and Angus looked and saw Jasper standing with the shovel in his hands. He was made of flesh and blood, not rotted.
“I believe those gold coins belong to the missus,” Jasper said and threw the shovel down.
Misty turned to Angus and was startled to see that he too was made of flesh again.
She ran to Brian, who finally began to stir. Misty helped him to his feet and the two of them watched as Jasper took his revenge.
“I been waiting for this chance many years, Angus,” Jasper said and punched Angus square in the face.
Angus staggered back and before he could regain his balance, Jasper grabbed the knife from the ground, stabbed it into Angus chest and he fell to the ground. Angus tried to reach the bag of gold coins that Misty still held, but before he could, Angus turned to ash.
Jasper looked down and kicked the ashes; he smiled and began to walk toward Brian and Misty.
Brian began to back away but Misty grabbed his hand and said, “It’s Jasper, he’s the good guy.”
Jasper shook Brian’s hand and turned to Misty, “I believe you will be ok, now.”
“Thank-you, Jasper,” Misty said and reached up and kissed his cheek.
Jasper touched her cheek, smiled and disappeared.
“Let’s go home now,” Brian said. They got into their truck and left Suntree Apartments.
At home, Brian excitedly told the kids and Misty’s mom everything that happened. Misty was tired, so instead of listening she went into her bedroom to change. She looked into the mirror and smiled, “maybe I do have a gift after all.”
Misty’s reflection changed and looking back at her was the decayed face of Angus Sullivan and the image said to her, “no, it is a curse.” Misty screamed.
the dead of night
the night’s void
calling for me
the urge pushes
pulls me forward
I walk on,
toward the voices
of those long
I am there…
I am them,
they are me
no more am I.
for now it is always
the DEAD of night.
the first rays of dawn
Nowhere am I,
lost in the dark
in a new place.
A psychic helps the sheriff solve a murder; but she finds out that it is not up to the police to stop the murderer; she is the only one with the power to end the killer’s reign of terror.
The Virginia Witch
Being a writer does have its perks, helping the police solve a murder would have to top that list of fringe benefits. It is not a good thing though when you are a writer that has the ability to have conversations with ghosts. From what Maria heard, from a spirit no less, that it was in her destiny to help the Tazewell County Sheriff with their new case.
It was an unusually hot day in October, even for Virginia standards. Maria sat on the porch swing, enjoying her husband Troy’s day off. Their children were riding bikes up and down the long driveway. The baby of the family, a one year old, was content on torturing the dogs on the porch. It was such a peaceful Saturday, but that soon ended.
“The cops are here,” Justin said as he rode up to the porch.
“It’s the cops,” Jessika said catching up to her brother.
Maria looked down the driveway and saw the cruiser, slowly driving up.
“What did you do?” She asked her fourteen-year-old daughter.
“Nothing, duh mom,” was the loving answer from Jessika.
Maria’s innocent nine year old, Justin said, “I didn’t do nothing.”
She smiled and looked up at the man who stepped out of the car. Troy waited beside her.
“Are you Maria Smith?”
“Ahh mom, it was you,” Jessika said laughing.
“It was not,” Maria said to her.
Justin asked, “what did you do, mom?”
“Nothing.” Maria looked at the sheriff and said, “yeah, I’m Maria, what’s up?”
“I am Sheriff Lewis and this is Sheriff Johnson, we were told that ya could help us,” the tall, skinny man said.
Maria asked him, “help with what?”
The two sheriffs looked at each other and the short, pudgy driver named Johnson reached into the vehicle. He pulled out a book. “Do you know what this is?”
Maria took the book from him and looked at the cover. It was all black except for a white pentacle; it looked to be very old. She opened it up and there was no cover page or content page. It was full of writing and symbols that Maria had seen before. She flipped through the book and saw descriptions, names and spells. Towards the end, Maria noticed pages torn out of the book. She shut it and handed it back to Sheriff Johnson, with a quick glance at Troy. He looked confused, but Maria knew he would be. “Why me, how did you find me?”
“We found out that you’re a writer and that you know all about the occult cause of your research with the books you write,” Lewis said.
“Who said?” Maria asked.
“The librarian in Richlands,” Johnson said.
“Ohh,” Maria glanced at Troy again, he was laughing and so was her daughter. She had done some research about the occult and being new to the area Maria did not know where anything was, so she had to ask. Her husband and daughter had been jokingly calling Maria a devil worshipper since that day.
“Well, do you know what it is?” Lewis asked.
“Yeah, it’s a grimoire, or another name would be the Book of Shadows, whichever you prefer,” Maria told them.
“What does that mean?” Johnson asked.
“It means that it’s a diary of a witch.”
“What!” Johnson said.
“Witches, here in Bandy,” Lewis said.
Maria told them, “witches are everywhere.”
“Yeah, there’s one right here,” Troy said as he put his arm around her.
Maria gave him a dirty look, shook off his arm and said to him, “shut up.”
“Listen, we got us a dead lady and it has to do with this stuff and we don’t know nothing about it, will ya help us?” Lewis asked.
Maria looked at Troy; he just shrugged his shoulders, a big help he was going to be. “Ok, tell me what you know and I’ll see what I can do.”
“May we come in?” Lewis asked.
Troy and Maria backed up to let them unto the porch, and they walked into the house.
“I think it would be a good idea if your children weren’t here,” Johnson said.
She looked towards the door, Maria’s daughter with the baby in her arms and her other son stood by the door waiting expectantly. “Get out and go play, take Joey with you.”
“Mom, I wanna hear,” Jessika said.
“Me too,” Justin said.
“I’ll tell you later,” Maria whispered to them as she pushed them out the door and shut it. She walked to where Troy was and sat down next to him.
“We found a body last night,” Lewis said as he held a folder in his hand that Maria had not seen earlier. “We found the book next to her.” He began to hand her the folder and stopped, he said, “these are pretty graphic, are you sure you can handle it?”
“Yeah, I can handle it, I already saw a man with his head blown away before,” Maria told him.
“Oh, really?” Lewis asked.
“I suppose you can handle this, then.” Lewis handed her the folder.
Maria opened the file, she and Troy looked at the pictures, and they were not graphic at all Maria thought. It was a photo of a woman tied to a pole; she wore a black robe with symbols that Maria could not see well enough.
“What were they gonna do, burn her at the stake?” Troy asked.
“We don’t know anything, we just got a phone call saying there was a dead body and we went there and saw this,” Johnson said.
Lewis asked, “so is she a witch?”
“Well, it appears that she is but I really can’t tell you by this picture. I would need to go and see her house on the inside,” Maria told them.
The two sheriffs looked at each other and stood up. “Ok, let’s go,” Johnson said.
Maria asked Jessika to baby-sit the boys, then Troy and her left with the sheriffs.
To Maria’s dismay, she did not live far from them. They stepped out of the car and looked around. She lived in a nice blue trailer; flowers were growing everywhere. The sheriff took them to the back and saw the pole still standing, without the body of course. She was in the morgue now.
“Did she live alone?” Maria asked.
Lewis said, “yes.”
“Shall we go in,” Johnson said as he led them to the front door.
Maria walked into the trailer and saw instantly that she was a witch. She had all sorts of books about witchcraft and candles of all colors.
“Maybe they will let you take some books for your research,” Troy said to her.
Maria elbowed him and began to walk through the dead woman’s house. She began to feel strange and could not shake it. It was as if someone was telling her to do something. Maria decided to ignore the feeling. They stopped at the end of the hallway, a black door with symbols written in silver, blocked their way. Maria opened the door. “My guess, I’d say she was definitely a witch.”
The black room had more silver symbols on the walls, ceiling and floor. The only light was the candles that filled the room. Drawn on the floor in more silver paint was a large pentacle and an altar sat towards the back of the room.
Suddenly the radio went off and everyone jumped, they laughed when it was realized what had happened.
A man said, “we have another body, found just like before. Ya’ll need to get to Moonlight holler, ya know where I mean.”
“Yeah, we are on the way,” Lewis said and looked at Maria. “So will you help, this is way too much for us to understand.”
She looked at Troy and he nodded, turned back toward Lewis and said to him, “yeah, I can help, well at least try to help.”
“Great, let’s go,” Johnson said.
Troy asked him, “go where?”
“Moonlight holler, I should warn you that the body will still be there,” Lewis said.
“What!” Troy said.
Maria laughed, pulled him to the car and they drove away. Again, it was not far from the other murdered woman. Other police cars were already on the scene and even a state trooper, who walked up to Maria and Troy.
“Who are you, this is a crime scene and you better leave now.”
Lewis stepped between the State Trooper and Maria, he told the other officer, “they are experts who are helping us, so step aside so we can get to work.”
The State Trooper walked away without another word.
Maria looked around and saw a pretty, brown little house; flowers surrounded it.
“What’s with all the flowers?” Troy asked.
“Remember what I said, witches love nature.” Maria told him and grabbed his hand. They walked together to the back of the house, preparing their selves to see a dead body. Maria and Troy turned the corner and saw her tied to the pole; she had long blonde hair and wore a black robe with symbols. “What was the cause of death?”
“We don’t know, we have to wait for the autopsy report,” Johnson said.
“Well, isn’t there a noticeable wound mark that might be the cause of death,” Maria asked.
“No, not a single mark on either woman, perfectly flawless skin,” a man said as he walked up. “My name is Dr. Doug Bandy, the coroner.”
Troy and Maria shook his hand, she asked, “what do you think killed them?”
“Not a clue, my dear, not a clue,” Dr. Bandy told her. “I’m off to the hospital; you better get your pictures cause they will be taking her down soon; nice meeting you two, goodbye.”
“Bye,” they both said after him.
Maria watched Dr. Bandy walk away and turned toward the body again. That was when she saw her; Maria tensed and quickly looked away.
“Yeah, I know it is difficult to see a dead body, it even bothers me sometimes,” Lewis said to her.
Maria could not help it, she rolled her eyes and looked at Troy, Maria whispered, “this was a mistake, I shouldn’t have agreed to this, the curse has reawakened.”
“Why, do you see her?” Troy asked.
“Yep, she’s here,” she told him.
Troy said to Maria, “talk to her.”
“I can’t, not with Roscoe and Enos standing right there,” she told him.
“Want me to get rid of them?” Troy asked.
Maria thought for a moment, she really did not want to deal with ghosts again. Maria blocked it for so long and now it was back. She had to admit though that she was curious. “Yeah, get rid of them.”
Troy said to the sheriff’s, “let’s check out the house and give her a minute.”
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Maria said and watched them walk off. She turned back to the body and sure enough, she was still standing there. “Well, here goes nothing.”
Maria walked up to her and just stared, she did not really know what to say. Does she say, “hi, how are ya”, well that would be stupid. Maria was sure the woman was not doing well at all. Maria seen ghosts all her life but was too scared to have a conversation with them. The only thing she would say was to leave her alone. Now here she was about to make conversation with a spirit, Maria did not feel at ease about it. At least she was not deformed.
“You did come, Maria.”
Maria was not expecting that, and she asked, “you know me, how?”
“We knew you since you came to Virginia, we have been watching you,” she said.
Maria could not believe what she had heard. “Why, why me?”
“You are one of us,” she said.
“I ain’t a witch, sure I have some experience and done some research, but it’s not like I’m in a coven or anything.”
“I’m not saying you are a witch, I’m talking about your powers. We share the same powers,” she told Maria.
“Oh, so what makes me so special now?” She asked.
“You will be able to perform the spell after we are all gone.”
“What spell, I don’t know any spells,” Maria told her.
“I will explain everything and then it will be up to you,” she said.
Maria did not like where this was going, but asked anyway, “what will be up to me?”
“Well, you can choose to help or you can walk away. If you choose to walk, then you, your family and everyone will suffer. This won’t go away on its own, you’re gonna have to fight,” she told her.
“I’m a lover, not a fighter,” Maria said. She was right and did not like where it was going. “You talk as if I have to save the world.”
“You do have to save the world, I’ll even go macabre and it’s your destiny.”
“All right, what’s happening?” Maria could not believe she even asked.
“We are a special coven, we know spells that would help people and, of course, there are others that would rather do harm,” she said.
“Isn’t that the way it always goes,” Maria said.
The apparition continued, and ignored Maria’s last comment, “these spells can only be performed by a special sort of person; our coven, our killer and you.”
“Killer, who is it?” Maria asked.
“I don’t know his name, but you will see him soon. You have that gift, too,” she told her.
“Oh, that’s nice.” Maria now regretted that she had to ask what was going on.
“The spells, the ancient writings were deciphered by Eve,” she said.
“Eve, who’s that?”
“Our leader,” the dead woman said.
Maria asked, “the first victim?”
“Yes, she figured out the meaning and we have performed the spell and it works.”
“What does it do?” Maria had to ask.
“It is a healing spell.”
“A healing potion, cool,” she said relieved that it was not something bad.
“It’s not a potion, it is a spell that also regenerates dead tissue,” she told Maria.
“Are you kidding?”
She shook her head and said, “I’m not kidding, we have the power to help people that have lost the use of their limbs.”
“Wouldn’t it also help people that had heart attacks and brain damage?” Maria asked excitedly.
“Yes, it would,” she said and smiled.
“That’s wonderful, so what’s the problem?” Maria asked.
“This man, our killer, is slightly power hungry. Wouldn’t it be a great power trip to be a leader of your very own army of the dead,” she said.
Maria believed her jaw dropped on that comment. She did not think of that when the ghost mentioned regenerating dead tissue. “That’s great, a modern day Frankenstein. What am I supposed to do about it?”
“Stop him,” she answered calmly.
Maria knew her jaw dropped that time. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”
“The spell was torn out of the book when Eve foreseen this coming. Each member of the coven, six all together, has a page of the spell,” she said.
“What, not thirteen?” Maria had to be a smartass.
She did not believe ghosts could give dirty looks, but she sure did before continuing, “you must collect all six pages.”
“Then what, bury them in sacred ground,” Maria said.
“This is not a movie, yeah I saw ‘Warlock’ too,” she said.
Maria asked, “so what am I supposed to do with them?”
“Keep them safe and use the spell to destroy him with his own plan,” she told her.
“What, how do I do that?”
“You will think of something, you always do,” she said.
The spirit was not being much help. Maria asked, hoping the ghost would give her a straight answer, “where are the pages?”
“Each witch has a page hidden, you will find it.”
“Nope, guess not,” Maria thought and then asked, “who are the other witches so I can warn them?”
She said, “they already know and they are prepared to die.”
“The police want me to help stop the murders and you want me to wait for them all to die.” Maria could not believe what she was hearing, it was self-sacrificing bull shit.
“Six deaths would be better than millions.”
Maria hated to admit it, but she was right.
“Good luck, Maria,” she said and disappeared.
Maria stood alone for a few minutes and looked at the body still tied to the pole. “I’ll do my best, I guess, not that I have a choice.” She walked into the house to find a page of the spell.
“Did you find out anything?” Troy asked when she stepped inside the house.
“Oh boy did I ever,” Maria said to him.
“Well?” He asked.
“I’ll tell you later,” Maria told him then she began to get that strange feeling again. Maria decided to go with it and walked further into the house. The cops were busy with dusting for fingerprints and looking for evidence, they did not even notice Maria and Troy.
“What are you doing?” Troy asked as he followed her through the house.
Maria told him, “I’m getting a page of the spell.”
“What spell, what are you talking about?” He asked.
“I’ll tell you later,” she said to him and then stopped in front of a black door with silver symbols. Maria opened the door and walked in, as Troy followed close behind. Strange how she knew exactly where to go; Maria walked up to the altar. It was more like a very fancy coffee table; it had thick legs that had the planets carved into the wood.
She pressed on Saturn and a drawer under the table opened. Maria looked at Troy, he was shocked, well so was Maria. She smiled and reached into the drawer and pulled out a piece of paper with strange words written on it. Maria folded the paper and put it in her jeans pocket. “Let’s go and wait outside.
They waited for Roscoe and Enos to finish with their investigation. Troy and Maria waited in silence. She knew Troy wanted to know what was going on but he was going to have to wait, and it was killing him.
They did not have to wait long, soon Johnson and Lewis walked up to them. “Well, what do ya think?’ Johnson asked.
“Don’t know much right now; well, it looks like someone is out to kill witches, but I don’t know why or who at this moment,” Maria told him.
“Hopefully its only two witches he was after,” Lewis said.
“Don’t count on it,” Maria said under her breath. Troy had heard it and looked at her.
“What did you say?” Johnson asked.
“I need to go back to Eve’s trailer,” Maria told him.
“How did you know her name was Eve?” Johnson said as he looked suspiciously at her.
Maria smiled and said, “her name was on the mail at her house, I saw it when we were there earlier.”
“Oh, why do you need to go there again?” Johnson asked.
“I want to see something, it might help.”
“Ok, let’s go,” Lewis said.
They drove to Eve’s house and went inside. “Wait here I’ll be right back.” To Maria’s surprise, they actually had waited. She walked to the room with the black door and went inside. Maria moved quickly to the altar and pressed Mars. The drawer opened; she grabbed the spell, folded it and put the paper in her pocket. They were still waiting at the door when Maria returned.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Johnson asked.
“Uhh, yeah, the two witches that were killed were from the same coven,” Maria said to them.
“Coven, what’s that?” Lewis asked.
She looked at him and said, “it’s a small group of witches.”
“Well, how would we know, we asked you for help remember,” Johnson said.
“Oh, yeah right, sorry,” Maria said.
“If two people from the same group have been killed, maybe there are others from this thing that is in danger,” Lewis said.
“I don’t know,” she told them. Maria was not going to say anything else; the others wanted to sacrifice themselves for the greater good.
“Do you know how to find the others, would it be written somewhere?” Johnson asked.
Yeah of course, the names were in the Grimoire, but Maria was not going to tell them that. She said instead, “no, I don’t, it’s pretty much a secret in covens, you know like a secret society thing.” Maria needed to get that book, in case they figure it out.
“Damn, I wish there was something we could do,” Johnson said.
“There is not much to do right now, it’s getting late and I want to go home to my kids,” Maria told them.
“Yeah, we’ll take you home,” Lewis said.
They pulled into the driveway within minutes, before Maria got out of the car she said, “let me know if another one dies, I will need to go to their homes and see if I can figure this out before it’s too late.”
“Yeah, we’ll come and get you on our way to the crime scene,” Lewis said.
“Thanks.” Maria looked toward the porch and saw her kids waiting impatiently to find out what was happening. She knew Justin would have to be left out; he was too young.
“Another thing, I need that book; the Grimoire. It has info on the coven; it might tell me if they kicked someone out or if there was someone who was not chosen to join the coven and pissed enough to kill.”
“Yeah, sure, here ya go,” Lewis said and handed her the book.
Troy and Maria got out of the car. She stood and watched them drive away, then turned around and saw her family staring; they were waiting for an explanation. Maria walked with them into the house, and tried to figure out on how to tell them what was going on.
“Is this a joke?” Troy asked.
The boys were in bed. Justin fought all the way but in the end, he listened to his father. Jessika sat quietly on the couch; Maria bet that she was wishing she were too young also. “Murder is pretty far to go for a joke,” Maria told him.
“Yeah, I know but this is unbelievable,” Troy said.
“Stranger things have happened; I have to do this, Troy, in case it is true. If I don’t and it really does happen, then we would have to deal with the live version of ‘Night of the Living Dead’, that scares me more,” Maria told him.
All Troy could say was, “yeah, I know.”
That night Maria saw the killer for the first time. She saw him in a nightmare and watched as he killed another witch. Now Maria knew how the other two died, though she was not too thrilled to see the life leaving her body. He smothered her with a pillow as she slept; there was no mark because there was no struggle, good old self-sacrifice.
The man was young and actually good-looking in a sinister way. He was tall, muscular and lean, and he had long blonde hair. His eyes were a beautiful, hypnotic blue and he was dressed all in black.
Maria watched as he killed her and carried her out to the yard where a pole was waiting. She watched as he searched the house for the spell, but came up empty handed; he did not know where it lay hidden.
Every night, Maria watched him kill the witches off, one by one. Every day she would go with Johnson and Lewis, see their dead body in person and retrieve the spell. Maria began to wonder; “If I can see him, does that mean he could see me.”
With each death and each piece of paper, Maria became more nervous. What was she going to do when she collected all the papers we; he was going to come after her. There was no way Maria was going to wait at home with her children as he came up the driveway. She had to come up with a place to go, away from the kids when she found that last page. There was only one place to go, away from everyone and Troy knew the area well.
Maria told Troy about going to Laurel Creek, he agreed. “I’m not going to ask you to stay with me, but I’m scared,” she told him.
“I began this mess with you, I’ll end it by your side,” he told her.
“Thanks,” Maria said and hugged him; she did not want to let him go. The last witch was to be killed that night and Maria would have the last page in her hand the next day.
“Do you know what you’re gonna do?” Troy asked.
“No, and there is no one to help us,” Maria said.
Troy laughed and said, “except maybe the snakes, bears, bobcats and dead Indians.”
“Laurel Creek is an Indian burial ground, of course, why didn’t I think of that before,” Maria said excitedly.
“How could dead Indians, ohhh, I get it,” Troy said. “But can you do the spell to bring back the Indians?”
“I sure hope so, at least we will find out if it is a joke,” Maria said.
“Yeah, but being surrounded by zombies ain’t to appealing,” he told her.
They went to bed that night late, wanting to put it off, but Maria grew tired and knew she needed strength for the next day. Troy held her in his arms throughout the whole night as Maria watched another innocent person die.
The next morning, Maria hugged her children good-bye and told them that she loved them. Maria watched the bus come and take Jessika and Justin to school. It was a cold morning, the mountains were full of color; fall was finally here. The mountains looked so beautiful; Maria hoped it was not the last time that she had the opportunity to see them. Maria took Joey to Debbie’s, who loved watching him every chance she got and then Maria and Troy waited.
About nine thirty in the morning, the sheriff car pulled into the driveway. They headed to the home of the last witch in Bandy. Her name was Anna, a pretty woman with black hair. Maria glanced at her body as she walked to the house, the spirit of Anna stood near it. Maria did not react; Anna nodded her head, smiled and disappeared. Maria felt a little more relaxed, but only just a little bit. Troy and her walked into the house and found the black door with silver symbols.
“I wonder what all these symbols mean.” Troy said.
Maria simply said, “protection.”
“Maybe they should have slept in here,” he said.
“Self-sacrifice, remember,” Maria said and opened the door. They walked to the altar; Maria knelt down and found the planet. “Earth, how convenient.”
“Of course, we are saving the earth,” Troy said.
The two of them laughed as Maria pressed on it and the drawer opened. She grabbed the last piece of the spell and said, “let’s get out of here.” They bumped into Johnson and Lewis on their way out.
“You have been working with us for a week, have you came up with anything?” Johnson asked
Maria snapped, “yeah, I know who the killer is. He has long blonde hair and blue eyes. I don’t know his name but he is a witch too and boy is he pissed off right now. Don’t you worry about any more murders because their all dead, no one is left in the coven.”
Roscoe and Enos shut right up.
“Damn!” Troy said.
Maria had to smile at him; the expression on his face was priceless. The cops immediately began to set up an APB on a mysterious blonde killer. “Listen, I guess I’m just a little upset by all this stuff.”
“A little upset,” Lewis said.
“Yeah, sorry, could you take us home, I need to rest.”
“Sure, I’ll take you home right now,” Lewis said.
The second Lewis pulled out of the driveway; Troy and Maria jumped into their truck and drove to Laurel Creek.
“Are you sure he will find us?” Troy asked.
“Yeah, I just hope it’s not right away.”
They pulled off and got out of the truck, then started to walk on the overgrown trail deeper into the holler. Maria kept looking all around her.
“It’s too cold for snakes,” Troy said.
“Ok, ok,” Maria said. She had a slight phobia about snakes. Maria did relax a little and looked straight ahead. They walked to where Troy said was the most burial mounds. “Well, now we will find out if this is real.”
Troy nodded and stepped a distance away from her and waited.
Maria took out the papers and began to read the incantation. She somehow could read an ancient language although Maria did not know what she was saying. By the fifth page, the wind began to blow strongly all around them. It took all her strength to stand still. Maria took a quick glance at Troy and saw him struggling also. She read the last part of the spell on the sixth page, and waited.
“Maria, we meet at last.”
She turned around slowly, very afraid. Maria met Troy’s eyes as he too turned toward the new voice. She then saw him; he looked exactly as Maria saw him every night.
“Let me introduce myself, my name is Damion. You don’t have to tell me who you are, I know you. Did you enjoy watching me kill those women? I sure did enjoy doing it. Ahhh, yes Maria, I saw you too.” He began to walk toward her. “Now, I believe you have something of mine.”
Troy moved closer to Maria and put his arm around her waist. It was a nice suggestion to protect Maria but she knew if it came to a fight, no matter how brave, her husband would die.
“It does not belong to you, it belongs to the witches that you killed,” Maria said to him.
Damion laughed; it sent shivers down her spine. It had the same effect on Troy, Maria felt him shudder next to her.
The warlock walked closer to them; Maria began to hope with all her might that the zombies come very quickly. Suddenly Eve appeared before Maria, separating Damion from Troy and Maria. Another witch appeared, and then another and another until six witches surrounded Damion.
“What are they doing?” Troy asked as he watched the ghosts he could finally see.
“I don’t know,” Maria told him.
“You cannot protect the girl from me, eventually you all will disappear and then I will get my chance,” Damion said.
Then it finally dawned on Maria, “their stalling him.”
“What?” Troy asked.
“Something is going to happen,” Maria said as she pulled him a distance away from Damion.
Troy noticed it first; he pulled on Maria’s arm and she looked at him. He was not looking at her; he was looking to the left. Maria turned her head in the direction Troy was and said, “oh, shit, now we know it wasn’t a joke.”
He did not say anything, so Maria turned toward him. His eyes were wide and his mouth was wide open; in awe or shock, she did not know but he looked slightly ridiculous. Maria had to laugh at the sight of him, but she sobered very quickly; more Indians came out of their mounds.
Their skin was rotted, not as bad as she thought it would be though. They still had their long, black hair and war paint was still noticeable. In their skeletal hands were tomahawks and knives. The Indians were slowly moving towards Damion.
Maria looked toward Damion his focus was not on her anymore. His guards were slowly disappearing, but he did not notice. The Indians closed in on him; the last of the witches had disappeared. Damion raised his hand to attack, one of the warriors chopped off his hand with one whack. He screamed; it pierced Troy and Maria’s ears so they covered them.
One by one, the Indians hacked away at their prey. Blood and body parts flew all around, as they dodged them. The Indians covered with his blood, laughed while they dismembered poor Damion. Both, Troy and Maria had to look away, so they turned their backs on the massacre. She knew Damion deserved it, but hell, it was gross.
When it was quiet and the whooping cries of war had ceased, they turned back around. It was a little unnerving to see what was left of Damion, but the worse of it was the Indians. They were standing there, blood dripping from their bodies, weapons raised in their hands and staring at Maria and Troy.
“Uh-oh, now what?” Troy asked.
“I don’t know, why the hell should I know,” Maria said. They never looked away from the Indians.
“You’re the witch,” he said.
“I’m not a witch,” she said. “You’re the man, do something.”
There was a long pause; Maria knew Troy was giving her a dirty look from the last comment. She did not care and continued to stare at the Indians.
Troy raised his hand, palm facing outward and said, “HOW!”
“I really don’t think that is gonna help.” Maria grabbed his hand and pulled it down, now it was her turn to give a dirty look.
“What did I do?” He asked.
A figure appeared before them, it was Eve and she said, “you are a witch, Maria and a very good one.” She winked at Troy who had begun to laugh; Eve then turned to the Indians and waved her arm. The Indians retreated to their mounds and disappeared.
“See that’s what you were supposed to do,” Troy said, still laughing.
“Shut up,” Maria said.
Eve turned back toward them, “thank-you for helping, you have a great gift and to block it is wrong; be proud to be a witch. It’s really not that bad.” She smiled and disappeared.
“So what about him?” Maria asked Troy.
“You mean, what is left of him; the animals will take care of him,” he said.
She asked, “what about the police?”
“I’ve got an idea,” Troy said.
Troy called Sheriff Lewis and told him that the witch killer was dead. “A bear attacked him in Laurel Creek. We ran and saved ourselves. His body is still there if you want it.”
“He actually believed you?” Maria asked when Troy hung up the phone.
“Of course he did, shit like that happens all the time round here,” Troy told her.
She laughed; glad it was finally over. Maria thought Troy would make a good writer, the way he made up that story to the police. Then he would have to help the police solve murders. Then Maria thought about it, a writer is not the answer, they needed a witch.
An ancient creature lives peacefully in modern times until one day a hunter changed it into a monster seeking revenge.
THE ANCIENT ONE
The creature had lived in Maple Rapids all his life, even though he did not know where he came from, did not know how he came to be. He lived in the roots of a large tree. The tree sat next to the Maple River, the roots were partly underwater. What no one knew, there was a small cave under the tree in which he resided.
Nobody knew he existed, nobody even gave him a second thought; the tricks he played on the anglers were just strange things that happen, and that was all that they said about it. The ancient one did not have a name; he just lived. He was part human; had two legs, two arms, torso and a head. That was all the resemblance to a human there was. He was about four feet long and weighed about seventy pounds.
His skin was the color of the murky waters in which it swam, which may explain how no one saw him. It was rough, scaly and slimy; he had webbed feet and hands. His head was small, the shape of a coconut; his eyes were two very small, brown circles. His nose was two holes in the middle of his face. His mouth was a small oval with two sharp teeth on the bottom and four sharp teeth on the top. He had no hair on any part of his body.
The old one never harmed anyone; his diet consisted of fish and worms he would swipe off peoples’ fishing poles. He was very old and wise; he knew and observed the people around him.
He would spend his days swimming up and down stream, finding victims for his practical jokes. He would steal the bait right off the hook of the unsuspecting fishers; or he would hold onto the hook in addition, pull on it, as if they had caught a fish. The angler would reel it in to find nothing, no fish and no worm. The angler would assume that a big fish had got away.
One of his all-time favorites was while the trolled was reeling in; he would grab the line, pull it to the bottom of the river, and put the hook on a snag. He always enjoyed their quizzical faces when he had done that.
For many years that was his way, until something happened to change the way he felt for the human. One day when the sky was overcast and rain was moving in, he went for a swim. He began chasing a Carp around, he was hungry; something on the bank had caught his eye, and he moved in a little closer. He never left the sanctuary of the water before, so his own actions surprised him.
The item on the bank was silver and he found rare finds fascinating. He moved closer, until his head, arms and upper body was out of the water. He moved and studied the object closely; it was what we call a dime. Entranced by the finding, he did not notice the man who walked out of the woods.
“What the hell are you?” The man said.
The ancient one’s eyes rose up hesitantly from the silver. He had never seen a human this close up before, there was something in the man’s hand. It pointed at him; it was silver. The old one looked at the strange thing that aimed at him; it was fascinating.
“Get the hell outta here, freak!” The man screamed with his .357 Magnum aimed at the creature before him.
All the old one did was stare at the beautiful piece of silver in the human’s hand. There was a loud explosion and pain tore through his arm. He flew back and looked down; there was a hole in his shoulder and a brown liquid oozed out. There was another explosion, this time a hole appeared on his side and brown seeped out. He screamed. Quickly he retreated to the water and toward his home. Behind him, he heard the explosions faster and they ricocheted off the water with a splash.
The medieval one made it to his cave, under the roots of the big tree. He put a salve on his wounds; the mixture he always used when the Gar Pike and the Snapping Turtles had gotten to close. Soon the holes would heal, but not his mind. Hate began to etch its way into his heart.
Once he had fully recovered, he again began to swim. There were days when he saw the humans fishing and he would let them be. There were times, though; he would see something that would catch his attention and the pain he felt before would begin to surface into his mind again. He would attack them before they would have a chance to get him.
He would creep out of the water and sneak up to them. They would sometimes see him and freeze at the mere sight of him.
He would grab both arms and rip them off the stunned human. With his six sharp teeth, he would bite into their foreheads and rip the faces clean off; all that would remain would be the skeletal face. He never digested the skin and tissues of his victims; he did not like the taste. He would leave the face lying next to the body and arms. Then he would retreat into the river.
No one in Maple Rapids could figure it out, only a select few were found armless and faceless. The police found no patterns to the murders. People became more and more frightened, especially residents of the small village. Less people went fishing on the Maple River, which to the ancient one was just fine. That meant less silver he would have to see, for he did not like silver anymore. If the police were more intelligent, they would see a pattern emerging. They would notice a silver object of some kind lying next to each victim.
My advice to you, if you really want to go fishing and have nowhere to go but the Maple River, is do not bring anything with silver. Because he sees it as something, that can hurt him and he is going to get to you before you can hurt him again.
Wishing for a soul mate can sometimes be more costly than you wanted.
CARRIED AWAY BY PASSION
“Oh, mother, it is so beautiful,” Scarlet said as she lifted the ruby necklace up and placed the chain around her neck.
“The ruby will prevent all evil and impure thoughts,” her mother said.
“What impure thoughts, my mind is innocent of such wickedness.”
Her mother looked into her eyes. “It’s not the thoughts that concerns me it is your body and the dirty men in town that desire your curvaceous body. The ruby will protect you from their evil intentions since you feel it your duty to parade around them with your scantly clothed figure.”
“Mother, are you calling me a strumpet?” Scarlet asked. She was shocked at the words her mother had implied. She never had desires for the men in town, Scarlet thought them to be vulgar. She did crave the attention from them; it made her feel good about herself. “I am a virgin.”
“Yes I know you are still pure and I know you are not a whore, it is only that you are too beautiful and that you enjoy the attention of those men. This ruby that you are to wear at all times will protect you from the evil that they possess that ejaculates from their manhood.”
Scarlet stared at her mother in surprise, and then she laughed. “Mother, you are so superstitious.”
“You should be too,” her mother said.
Scarlet was also superstitious, not about dangers to herself but with love. She was truly a beautiful girl; her long red, wavy hair flowed down her back. Scarlet had sparkling blue eyes that held just a speck of the minx within her. She always wore silk blouses that fell sensually off her shoulders revealing her soft, flawless skin that every man in the village has yearned to touch. Scarlet’s slender legs were visible under the ruffled lace skirts that she wore. She refused to wear the undergarments that decent young women should wear, Scarlet felt it too constricting.
She loved to feel the silkiness of the material in her blouse as it caressed her breasts. Scarlet liked the sensation of a soft breeze flowing under her skirt against her skin. It made her feel free and to be closer with nature without the confines of so much clothing. She would have loved to run around with nothing on at all, be one with nature as how it was in the beginning. Scarlet’s mother would not approve, so she kept her nakedness covered with little clothing as possible that felt stimulating against her flesh.
Scarlet would go to town dressed like that; she was not ashamed of her body. The women in town would look at her and purse their lips like Scarlet was dirt in their godly eyes, a whore. It was their problem, not hers. It made her feel good to see the desire in every man’s eyes when she passed by them and smiled sweetly. Scarlet would lick her lips seductively, and watch as the bulge in the man’s pants grew hard right before her eyes.
Scarlet so loved the power she had over all men but she was not happy or satisfied with them. Scarlet wanted to find her true love and soul mate, the one in which to spend her whole life. She could not find that one man who would extinguish the desire that burned inside her. Scarlet began to question if he was even out there awaiting her too. She knew what to do, Scarlet had to find out about the man she would spend eternity with before it was too late. She was concerned that her innocence would be wasted on one of the wicked men in the village.
It was a warm July evening when Scarlet walked out to the abundant flower garden in their backyard. She picked a sprig of mistletoe and walked, smiling back into the house. “Now I’ll see who my true love is and spend my life with him.” Scarlet went up to her room and placed the mistletoe under her pillow.
That night she dreamt, dreaming of her true love, the one that she would spend all eternity with in each other’s arms. He was tall, muscular and oh so handsome; the mystery man had short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. She would never forget what he looked like, the vision engraved into her mind; Scarlet watching them together, awakened a sexual yearning that needed to be satisfied. She wondered when the man of her destiny would enter her life. Day after day, she hoped that her love would appear to her.
The day came on All Souls Day; Scarlet went for a walk on a path not far from her home. It led to an open field of wild flowers and soft grass next to an abandoned graveyard, a peaceful place she had visited often to daydream of finding her love. While walking on the path, she came across a man also walking ahead of her. She quickened her pace, excited to have someone to talk with for once while she walked the lonely trail. Scarlet caught up with him and said, “excuse me sir.”
When he turned around, a gasp escaped her lips. Her eyes widened in shock as she stared at the man before her, the man in her dream. She could not believe he was real. His skin was pale, which brought out the blue vividly in his eyes. The blonde hair was short but with slight waves that laid against the side of his handsome face. The man was tall, maybe a foot taller than Scarlet, but was skinny. She could see his muscular body under the white silk shirt that he wore. It was halfway unbuttoned in front and Scarlet could see the fine curls of hair on his chest.
A sweet longing began to build up in her as she lowered her eyes more, taking in every inch of him. He had on tight pants that were tan, it revealed every inch of his manhood. Her heart began to beat faster as she gazed back at his face. His mouth was small and his thick lips just asked to be kissed. Scarlet licked her own lips while she thought about his lips pressing against hers; that image caused a burning sensation to stir within her.
“Yes, young lady,” he spoke in a soft, low voice.
Her heart quickened a little more at the sound of his voice. She only stood there; Scarlet did not know what to say. He stood there and watched her; he was smiling. His eyes penetrated her very soul. A desirous sensation overwhelmed her when he took her hand into his. Their love was meant to be and he felt it too. “What is your name?” Scarlet asked him.
“Sullivan O’Brian,” he answered and moved closer to her. “Now I know why I had an overwhelming urge to walk along this lonely road.”
It was warm for November, but it could have been the fiery of their urgent lust. The sky was black with glittering stars and the almost full moonlight was their only light. Scarlett and Sullivan held hands as they walked along the pathway and talked of the love for one another that they both so strongly felt.
The young couple walked into the field of flowers, and stopped near the cemetery. He turned to Scarlet and looked into her eyes. He said, “my love, it is time we bond our love for eternity.”
“Yes, for eternity,” she whispered.
Sullivan pushed back her long blood-red hair, revealing her pale soft neck. He gently caressed her face and leaned forward until their lips met briefly.
Scarlet’s desire increased with the brush of his lips on hers. She only stood there, unable to move because suddenly Scarlet felt bashful and apprehensive about the knowledge of the forbidden fornication that her seductive body was about to partake in. He smiled at her and Scarlet’s heart melted as she stared into his loving eyes.
Sullivan wrapped his strong arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Scarlet could feel the massiveness of the bulge under his pants become hard. They both could feel the pressure of each other’s bodies through the flimsy material of their silk blouses. He leaned forward again and this time when their lips met, it was with more intensity. His tongue parted her lips and penetrated deep inside her mouth searching for her tongue.
Her erotic sensuality began to reach its peak. Scarlet reached one arm up around his neck and ran her fingers through his thick hair while her other arm stayed down and reached forward to find the long and hard member that she so longed to have inside her.
She found it and squeezed tightly but ever so gently, his moan that escaped his mouth into her own made her passion surge throughout her aroused body. As they pressed against one another, he slowly moved his one hand down from her face. Sullivan slowly lowered it further, sliding his hand down until he found the curve of her breast. He barely touched the nipple through the silk as he lowered his hand even further down Scarlet’s slim body, until it reached the bottom of her shirt.
Sullivan could not contain himself anymore; he gently laid her down in the soft flowers and quickly pulled his pants off. Scarlet laid there staring at his perfect physique, she spread her legs apart and waited in lustful urgency. He laid down next to her, her arms went around his neck and she pulled him closer to her. Sullivan kissed her moist lips gently as he moved on top of her and entered Scarlet with such force that painful screams of ecstasy escaped her lips. Sullivan pressed his mouth to hers and stifled the screaming her lust could not contain.
Soon their bodies moved as one with the same rhythm as the quick beating of their hearts. They were as one, united together with love and passion. He took her savagely but with gentleness at first and it grew into a passion that they could not control. Their rapture grew in both until together had reached that dramatic climax. The thrusting had reached its peak, and as one, their screams of ecstasy echoed throughout the field when both reached their earth shaking orgasm together, as one.
They fell back into each other’s arms, exhausted and more deeply in love. Their lovemaking was sensual and forbidden, sex before marriage was a mortal sin. Both of them could not help fornicating before being wed, they were too carried away by passion to care about the consequences of the sin they were to commit.
Maybe Scarlet should have worn the ruby necklace and her impure thoughts avoided, because it was with that ill-fated embrace that defined their love, now they must be together for all of eternity. She was not too worried, no one would know about how they had lost control of their sexuality. Sullivan was her soul mate and they would marry soon. The intimacy would not be wicked lust, but the pureness of true love.
“It is time for me to go now,” Sullivan said as he looked to the pink horizon where a new dawn was approaching.
“You cannot leave me, we are to be together forever,” Scarlet said.
“I am sorry love, but I don’t belong here. I will love you forever.” Sullivan kissed her lips softly and stood up.
Scarlet grabbed his hand and stood up. She said to him, “no, I will not let you leave, please stay by my side.”
Sullivan gently pulled his hand out of hers and briefly touched Scarlet’s face. He turned and walked away from her.
“No, please stay, we are to spend eternity together,” Scarlet screamed after him. She turned and saw him walking through the graveyard. She thought, “he must live in that village beyond it.” Scarlet began to run after him. She saw him pause and turn to look toward her. Scarlet ran faster, he was waiting for her to catch up. When she reached the area he stood only a moment ago, he had vanished. “Sullivan, where are you?” Scarlet looked around and her gaze stopped at a headstone in front of her.
Scarlet’s eyes widened in shock, it must be a mistake; the name must be wrong. She stared at the stone, the name on the grave marker read, ‘Sullivan O’Brian’. Scarlet screamed in horror when she realized what had just happened. Her true love, whom she had just made love to, was dead. She ran home and shut herself up in her room. The anguish she felt overwhelmed her confounded mind. Scarlet sat in front of her dressing table and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her blue eyes glistened with tears and her cheeks flushed from her fornication with the dead.
She looked away from her reflection in shame. Her eyes fell upon the ruby necklace that sat on the table. Scarlet picked it up and held the ruby in her hands. “Oh why did I not wear the ruby, it would not have happened and the heartrending pain I feel would not exist.”
Scarlet lay in her bed and slept the whole day. She dreamt of her lost love, his kiss still warm on her lips and his caress still tingled her skin. She awoke that night with a hope-filled thought; maybe it was not him and was someone with the same name. The revelation drove into her heart, there still may be a chance; Scarlet knew what she must do.
She stood up and went out into the night; Scarlet stopped at the shed and grabbed the shovel. She would see if it was truly, her Sullivan buried under that headstone. Scarlet walked quickly to the graveyard, she stopped at the stone marker and began to dig. Scarlet dug through the night, until the glowing streaks of dawn began to arrive and she hit the wooden coffin with the shovel. Scarlet stepped into the deep hole she had just dug and moved the dirt out of the way. She paused for a moment and thought about what she was going to do, “what am I thinking, I must be mad to do this; but I must know because it will haunt me my whole life.” Scarlet opened the coffin.
Her love, Sullivan lay silently in his coffin; it was him. The one she was supposed to spend eternity in his loving embrace. All hope was lost, she was in love with a corpse; it cannot be. Scarlet gazed into his handsome face, Sullivan’s eyes opened. Scarlet jumped back and screamed. He lifted his arms up to her, wanting to hold her in his arms one last time.
Scarlet continued to scream as she tried to climb up out of the hole. She kept slipping on the soft dirt, sliding closer toward his open arms. Scarlet tried again, desperate to be free of the grave; she made it half way and lost her balance; Scarlet fell back and landed in the coffin, on top of Sullivan. Scarlet looked into his lifeless eyes, he smiled at her. She screamed again as her eyes widened in terror, Scarlet tried to escape again but could not move.
Sullivan opened his mouth and a decayed stench reeked out. He spoke to Scarlet, “now we will be together forever.”
It repulsed Scarlet when Sullivan’s handsome face began to melt away. Right before her eyes, she watched him rapidly decompose into the rotted flesh corpse that was his true self. She struggled to stand up but could not; he had wrapped his skeletal arms tight around her waist. He pulled her into his loving embrace. Scarlet’s scream stopped short when Sullivan leaned forward and met her soft lips in an unending kiss. The lid to the coffin fell down on the loving couple with a loud bang that echoed in the abandoned graveyard, sealing the ill-fated Scarlet with her true love forever.
The headstone that bore the dreaded name of her love, had changed so that it now read, ‘Sullivan O’Brian and his true love for all eternity, Scarlet’.
A dead preacher possessed by a demon is holding onto the souls of the Indians that he had slaughtered. The Indians held captive try to get help from a psychic to release their souls to heaven.
THE PREACHER MAN
The heat of the fire burned and sweat began to drip down Laura’s face as she stared in horror at the chaos that surrounded her. People ran around Laura; men, woman and children screamed and cried. They were dressed in animal skins and feathers. Their long black hair blew out behind them as they ran around for their lives.
Laura watched as pale men took tomahawks and plunged it deep into the Indians skulls. She wondered what was happening all around her, why she could feel the heat radiating off the burning tents. Laura looked up into the night sky, not one star twinkled back but the moon was full and glowing brightly.
She looked around once again, the Indians tried to run away from the white men that looked like they enjoyed the massacre that they pursued. The killers would laugh as their tomahawks ripped into the dark hair that soon turned red.
Then he caught Laura’s eyes, everything around her seemed frozen as she stared at this one man who stood out against the dark, burning night. He was dressed all in black, including his hat; he looked like a preacher of older times. The man was old but looked quite agile and stood solid as he watched the slaughter, a smile on his worn face.
Laura heard loud chanting that seemed to echo off the mountains that surrounded them, drowning out the screams of the suffering. She looked around and saw high on the mountain another man. The bright moon shined down on him, casting him in a brilliant light.
She saw him clearly, though he was a distance away. He was tall, muscular and his brown skin glistened with sweat. The man wore animal skins and had a tall-feathered headdress; his face painted red and his eyes were as black as the sky. His handsome features distorted with rage and it frightened Laura. She assumed he was the shaman of the slaughtered tribe and that he was the only hope for his people.
The screaming and dying surrounded her but Laura’s attention was to the man on the mountain. He chanted in some unknown language, danced around as he called for the spirits to come and rescue his tribe. The ritual before her eyes mesmerized Laura.
Someone grabbed Laura from behind; she turned and saw a handsome, dark skin man with pleading eyes. Before he could utter a word, the man jerked forward and loosened his grip on Laura’s arm. He fell onto the ground, a tomahawk stuck in his head. Laura looked away; tears glistened in her eyes. She looked back up to the shaman, silently pleaded with him to hurry.
Lightening came down from the sky and struck next to the Indian; he flew back and landed on the hard ground. A shadow came from the ground where the bolt hit the earth. Laura looked to the man on the ground; his face held great fear.
She watched as the shadow moved closer to him, suddenly the black mist engulfed the shaman. The witch doctor’s scream echoed off the surrounding mountains and drowned out the cries of the ones butchered below.
The shadow moved away from its prey and began to float down the mountain, toward her. Laura looked to where the shaman laid and he was gone. Her eyes went back to the black shadow that came closer, until it was right before her. She stepped back but could not look away; it was not just a shadow anymore.
A form began to take shape, although it was not solid. Laura looked into what would be a face and quickly regretted her curiosity. The face was skeletal with pieces of rotted flesh hanging off. It was not human but had the likeness of one. What frightened Laura more was what should have been its eyes; they were dark marble. She saw the surrounding fire reflected in them or was it hell’s fire. Laura felt sick to her stomach and a chill swept throughout her body, she felt her life force drained away. It then turned away and the iciness left her.
The shadowed demon floated toward the preacher man; Laura watched as the darkness entered the man. He shook as if having a seizure and then the preacher looked toward the heavens with a look of pure pleasure on his enlightened face. The preacher was not engulfed as the shaman on the mountain had been. It dawned on her that she had just witnessed the demon enter the preacher.
Laura watched the possessed man, his eyes as black onyx with flames reflected inside, began to walk toward her; his long strides moving ever so close to her while his eyes stared intently into hers. He spoke, it was not loud but spoke softly; Laura heard every word he said clearly.
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”
He walked closer towards her, the preacher’s eyes bore into Laura’s very soul; she could not look away.
The preacher man continued to walk toward her and spoke, “he maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters.”
They were almost face-to-face, Laura could see his skin flaking; it was rotting right before her eyes.
He continued to walk and speak to Laura, “he restoreth my soul; he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his names sake.”
The preacher stood before her, Laura frozen with fear. She could not run away and could not look away. He smiled as his ebony eyes stared into hers.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…”
He grabbed Laura’s shoulders and pulled her toward him, the preacher smelled like a rotted corpse; his eyes flared red.
“I will fear no evil.”
A piercing scream rang out into the night and Laura quickly sat up in bed.
“Are you ok?”
Laura looked over at her husband and said, “yeah, just a bad dream.”
“Yeah, the same one,” Laura told him.
“You really need to do something about it.”
Laura said, “I know, Mark, I just don’t want to.”
“You like those dreams?”
She answered, “no, I just don’t want to do what I need to do.”
“Well, you need to do something quick; I need to sleep at night.” Mark turned over and was soon back asleep.
Laura looked at him for a few moments, stuck out her tongue at his back and looked at the digital clock on the dresser. The numbers read 5:20 in the morning. She pulled back the blankets and stood up, “might as well stay awake.”
She walked out of the room, went into the kitchen and made coffee. After her coffee stopped brewing, Laura sat at the table with her cup and lit a cigarette. It was the same nightmare every night, since her and Mark’s walk at Laurel Creek. Laura knew that it was connected but how, she also knew what she had to do.
Laura was psychic and she hid it very well. The only people to know about her gift were her husband, best friend and her mother. Laura did not want anyone to know that she could talk to ghosts, for obvious reasons.
The nightmares began when she and Mark went for a walk on an old Indian trail his family owned in Virginia called Laurel Creek. The walk was beautiful and peaceful but Laura had a feeling of being watched. No other humans were around; they were alone. That night was the first nightmare and it was the same for two weeks. She would always wake up screaming.
“I’m gonna have to go back to Laurel Creek and find out what is going on,” Laura said aloud in the empty kitchen.
Later that day, Laura and Mark went to Laurel Creek. He parked the truck at the entrance and they began to walk on the trail. “How far are we going in?” He asked.
“Just far enough to where I first felt something,” Laura told him.
“Ok, where was that?” Mark asked.
She answered him, “I don’t really know.”
Laura smiled and continued to walk further into the wooded mountains. They walked for only a few minutes when she stopped abruptly. The strange sensation of someone watching sent shivers down her spine. Laura looked around; they were standing next to the creek. The water flowed soundlessly as a great vacuum descended on the area.
She saw them in the distance up the mountain; Laura knew right away that they were not human anymore. Their long black hair and the bronze skin showed her that it was Indians. They wore skins as clothing and carried simple weapons; Laura knew that they were not from the present. She was looking at the spirits of two dead Indians.
Before Laura or the two Indians could speak, an eerie sensation penetrated her soul. The two Indians disappeared. She quickly looked behind her, a shadow moved closer. Laura heard him before she saw the preacher.
He said, “for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”
“Oh, God, no,” Laura whispered, but her prayer went unanswered.
The old man appeared before her terrified eyes. That supposedly, harmless aged person whom recited a psalm; scared Laura as no other ghost ever did. He looked as he did in her dreams, the look of evil gleamed in the preacher’s eyes. She wanted to run but could not; Laura closed her eyes and pleaded to have the vision removed from her sight. After a few moments, she opened her eyes; the preacher was gone. Laura looked toward Mark, he stood beside her all the color drained from his body, and etched into his face was the look of horror. “Did you see him?”
He slowly shook his head and said, “felt, felt something, something evil, I never wanna feel that way again. What did you see?”
“A demon in possession of a preacher.”
“What?” Mark asked.
“The nightmare, remember, I saw the demon go into the preacher man even though I think he was evil before then; the way he smiled about the way the Indians were killed. I think he was the reason for the slaughter. He is here too.”
Mark shook his head again, with more forcefulness; trying to shake the feeling, he just had off. He asked Laura, “why is he here, what does he want?”
“I don’t know, let’s ask them.” Laura pointed to a spot up the mountain where she last saw the two Indians.
Mark looked where she had pointed and said, “I don’t see anyone.”
“They disappeared when the preacher showed up,” Laura said and began to climb the mountain. “Not that you could see them anyway.”
Mark stared at her a moment, shook his head and reluctantly followed Laura up the mountain.
They reached the top and Laura looked around her. She saw the two Indians waiting for her. Laura walked up to them; Mark followed her silently. “Why are you following me?” She asked them.
One of the men answered her, “our tribe was killed, killed by the preacher named Isaac.”
“Why?” Laura asked.
The other man said, “we would not convert to his way.”
Laura looked at Mark, he listened to her side of the conversation with confusion; he could not see or hear the Indians. She filled him in on what they said so far.
Mark said when Laura finished, “that preacher man killed a whole tribe just because they wouldn’t convert to his religion.”
“That’s what they said and the preacher’s name is Isaac,” Laura told him.
The first Indian spoke again, “the night Isaac killed us, our shaman tried to conjure a spirit to help us. It went wrong, a demon was conjured; it took our shaman.”
Laura told them, “then it went into Isaac.”
Both men nodded and the first Indian said, “he is still with us, still trying to convert; his evil is holding us here, our spirits cannot leave this place.”
“Why are you here? It all happened up Sinking Waters, not here,” Laura asked.
He answered, “some of us escaped and came here to hide; he found us and killed us all.”
Laura nodded and asked, “why are you showing yourself to me?”
“We felt you, we felt your abilities; we need your help, you can help us.”
Laura asked him, “what could I do?”
The second one joined the conversation, “bring back our shaman and he will destroy the preacher.”
She stared at him for a moment then said, “you want me to bring back the shaman?”
They both nodded.
Laura looked at Mark; he shrugged and smiled at her. She turned back toward the two tall dark men. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”
The first Indian told her, “go to the place he left, you will find the way.”
The other Indian said, “leave now, Isaac is coming.”
They disappeared as Laura felt her soul began to smother; Isaac appeared and began to walk toward her. “Oh shit, let’s go now!” She grabbed Mark’s hand; they ran down the mountain and out of Laurel Creek.
“How the hell are you going to bring back the shaman?” Mark asked once they were in the truck and driving home.
“I don’t know, he told me to go to the place the shaman left,” Laura said.
“How are you going to get there? That mountain is all fenced in, remember,” he said.
Laura said to him, “there is an opening down the road; we hop the gate and walk all the way back to that spot.”
“Yeah and hope we don’t get caught.”
She smiled and said, “we all been up there before when we lived at Agnes house and we never got caught.”
“There is always a first time,” Mark said.
“Fine, we won’t go, I won’t bring back the shaman and the whole tribe will never be at peace and Isaac the evil preacher will haunt my nightmares for eternity.”
“Ok, ok, we’ll go tomorrow,” Mark said and smiled.
That night Laura was a little nervous about falling asleep. She was afraid to see the Indians massacred again and the demon entering the preacher; also Isaac coming toward her.
“Don’t worry about it, maybe you won’t have it now that you know what is going on,” Mark told her.
“I hope so; I don’t want to see that nightmare again.
Laura went to bed that night, still fearful. Instead of the nightmare, she had what was more of a premonition. Laura stood on the mountain where the shaman conjured the demon. In her dream, Laura recited a mantra she did not know.
She then lit the place where he had disappeared on fire. Blue flames shot out from the ground and the shaman appeared. Then the dream turned into a nightmare. Laura heard his crackling, raspy voice behind her. She turned and out of the distance, Isaac emerged and began to walk toward her. She watched in horror as he came nearer.
He was saying, “the Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul; he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.”
Laura could see the old man’s decayed face, his nose sunken in and he was more skeletal than when she saw him in the previous nightmare. His eyes were that clear, black onyx that the hell fires deep within his soul burned. Isaac was right in front of her.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” he recited.
Isaac grabbed Laura’s shoulders and pulled her close to him, she could smell his rotted breath. A shiver ran down her spine. His fingers dug deep into her skin, Laura winced at the pain. He pulled her even closer.
“I will fear no evil.”
The pain in her shoulders grew in intensity and the rotting stench revolted her; Laura began to scream.
“I didn’t think the nightmare could get worse,” Laura said to Mark after she had calmed down. She told him what happened.
“Damn, do you think that is how to bring the shaman back?”
Laura told him, “yes and Isaac was not very happy about it either.”
Mark put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. She screamed and pulled away. “That hurt, oh no, turn on the light.”
He stood up, walked to the switch and turned on the light.
Laura slowly took off her t-shirt, wincing at the pain in her shoulders. Mark’s gasp of surprise told her everything. She got off the bed and looked into the mirror. There were five deep cuts in both her shoulders; the blood had begun to dry. Laura looked at her ripped shirt, with blood soaked the shoulders.
Mark cleaned up the gouges and bandaged her shoulders.
“I think I’m staying up now,” Laura said.
Mark said to her, “I don’t blame you; first thing in the morning we will go and bring back the shaman.”
In the morning, Mark and Laura walked up the road to the gate. After a quick look around, they jumped the gate and walked back up the mountain. The two came to the place where Laura saw the shaman disappear. She began the mantra from her dream; Laura was quite surprised she remembered it.
“Shaman of this hallowed ground
he who conjured demon from hell
fell from shadow
rise again from the depths
to make right the wrong you done.”
Laura lit the place the shaman had disappeared on fire, blue flames shot out of the earth and the shaman appeared. She remembered her dream and looked behind her; the preacher walked slowly toward Laura. She screamed, Mark turned and he saw Isaac too.
“Oh, shit!” Mark said as he grabbed Laura’s arm and pulled her away.
Isaac’s smile faded quickly when he noticed the shaman standing before him. The preacher stopped and stood frozen as he stared at the tall, bronze man in front of him. He could only utter one word, “you!”
The shaman raised his arm and pointed to the old preacher man, a red streak of lightening shot out of his hand.
Isaac began to shake uncontrollably and a dark shadow issued out of his wide mouth. Mark and Laura watched in amazement as the rest of the preacher’s skin began to peel off his white bones. His face began to deteriorate and his skull appeared when the rest of his flesh stripped off; Isaac’s wide, shocked eyes that looked like dark onyx fell out of their sockets and landed on the ground. The eyes burst open and a reddish gray fluid sprayed the green grass. The two watched in horror as Isaac’s bones turned to dust and blew away with the soft breeze.
Laura and Mark looked at each other, then turned toward the shaman and saw him and the demon locked together in a battle of strength. The shaman grabbed the dark shadow, which appeared to be solid and held tight while repeating some words that Laura did not understand.
The gentle breeze turned into a raging gale, Mark and Laura held each other up as the wind blew all around them. They could barely see what was happening before them.
A loud, piercing screech reverberated inside their heads; Laura and Mark put up their hands to cover the ears to dull the sound, then an explosion of air blew them off their feet.
All became silent, the wind settled to a breeze again; the two of them got to their feet and looked around. The shadowed demon was gone. Mark and Laura looked at the shaman; he nodded toward them and disappeared into a blinding light.
“That was intriguing,” Mark said shakily.
“Well, at least you got to see them,” Laura said.
A soft, warm glowing mist surrounded them both and began to rise toward the bright blue sky. Another glowing mist swept close by them and disappeared toward the heavens. Mark and Laura looked around them, hundreds of shimmering mists floated around them before heading towards the sky.
“Has the tribe been set free?” Mark asked as his face lit with excitement.
Tears glistened in Laura’s eyes as she turned and watched all the glimmering souls going home finally. “Yes, they are free now.”
Mark and Laura stood on the mountain, holding hands and watching all the spirits finally at peace, disappear into the beautiful sun filled, azure sky.
After the tribe had disappeared, the two of them turned to leave. A loud crackling, raspy voice echoed around them. Laura and Mark froze in their tracks; they looked at each other, with horror-filled eyes. “Oh no, it can’t be,” Laura said and she slowly turned back around and screamed.
The preacher man was dressed all in black, including his hat. The man was old but looked quite agile with a smile on his wrinkled face; he began to walk toward them.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death; I will fear no evil.”
This is a real life horror that I went through in Ionia, Michigan. I was witness to something that no person should ever see. It is a nightmare burned forever into my mind.
THE IONIA INCIDENT
The one main problem with being a writer is when life is dull and there is nothing to write about that is exciting. The writer personality in my mind would wish for excitement and surprisingly the wish was always granted.
It happened twenty-four years ago that I was working with my husband as a bottle dropper. Our job was with a water softener company and we drove all over the state. We had to stop at each house and put a clear bag with an empty bottle for water samples and a paper for potential customers to fill out and leave on the mailbox for us to collect. Our route at that time was out in the country and we had to stop at each mailbox.
I took my daughter to the babysitters that morning and then my husband and I proceeded to go to work. We were to ride together that day and drop off bottles in Ionia County.
Ionia is a good size city, and on the outskirts of town was a prison. The country surrounding the city was mostly fields, and the houses where we had to stop at the mailboxes were far and few between. Ionia County causes you to feel isolated from the world.
We reached Ionia County without incident; it was just like any other sunny, spring day. As we drove the countryside, I noticed many target ranges and at first thought it was strange but then I remembered the prison. I realized they must have been for the guards to practice their shooting skills. I soon put it out of my mind and enjoyed the warm sunshine. That was my last peaceful memory of the incident, from then on I think of it as a never-ending nightmare that lingers in the normal personality in my mind.
It all began with the gunshots, three gunshots to be exact; I said to my husband, “they are out practicing early today.” Remembering all the target ranges, I had seen earlier.
As we were nearing a curve, an eerie sound pierced deeply into my soul. It was a noise so unnerving that it penetrated your mind and left you breathless. It was the prison siren. My husband and I glanced at each other but could not say a word. Up ahead was the curve, on the other side of it, was the backside of the prison.
We were in full view for only minutes but to me it was an eternity. It all seemed to go by in slow motion, even though my husband did not slow down too much. The first thing I noticed was a car parked beside the prison fence and the driver side door was wide open. On the ground was a figure, we drove on toward the backside of the prison, in the distance behind the fence I saw cars heading to the scene.
As we neared the car, my writer’s senses took complete control of my mind. My eyes wide with anticipation, knowing deep in my heart I was not going to like what I saw but was prepared to take it all in, even against my own will. My eyes and mind took in the whole scene, studying and remembering everything it saw. The writer personality was jumping for joy at the exciting find it was witnessing; the gore of it all revolted the normal personality, of course, the normal personality can never erase the image seared into its mind.
The figure on the ground, I believe a man, had pools of blood surrounding him. He lay on his back, his legs straight out ahead and his arms out from his sides. He had two holes in his chest, his ripped t-shirt moistened red. His head was there, and you could barely tell that his hair was brown, with all the red mixed with it. His face was missing, though. All I saw was an empty space where his face should have been, I could even see pavement through the gap the hole made.
Neither one of us spoke; my husband drove on with both hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He looked straight ahead, so pale as if he saw the person stand up dead before his eyes.
Then my husband stopped and turned the car around. I asked, “what the hell are you doing?” He told me that, “we had to turn around and go to another road.” Our route on that road had ended and we had to, god forbid, backtrack.
As we drove by the second time, nothing had changed, except the police were now there. One of the plain clothed officers gave us a dirty look, which I could not understand at first but now I know differently.
True, that horrific scene will play over in my subconscious mind forever, but that massacred body was not the true horror for me, anyway.
The question that played repeatedly in my head was, “what happened?” The writer personality reared its ugly head and implanted in my normal personality what might have happened. The thoughts that ran through my mind were that a prisoner had escaped and flagged down a car. He killed the driver but did not have time to jump into the getaway car and drive away. Therefore, he ran off and now was out there hiding.
As I said before, we stop at every mailbox in secluded areas. Therefore, every time we stopped I kept thinking that he would jump out, shoot us and steal our car. At each mailbox, I would look around slowly, then roll down my window, quickly drop off the bag and then roll the window quickly back up. The whole time my heart pounded, my pulse raced and the vision of my husband with a hole in his head invaded my consciousness.
That was what it was like for me until we got out of town, about thirty minutes later. That half hour was my true real-life horror.
Later that night we watched the news, and then we found out what ‘supposedly’ happened. A person was throwing weapons over the fence and then he shot himself with a shotgun. That was when new questions emerged; the writer personality took over again. What they said happened, was not logical to what I saw and heard.
There was three shots and they said only one shot was fired, him shooting his own head, so where did the two holes in his chest come from and who fired them?
The angle in which he laid from the car, the shotgun he shot himself with would kick backwards into or near the car. I saw no weapons of any kind in the whole area.
The body was not the only thing I viewed intently. Why did the news lie? What was the purpose? What was the police hiding? The writing personality was going nuts with excitement.
My wish had come true, the questions and the events that had happened made me realize how important writing is to me, the story idea that comes from this experience are amazing. I have yet to write this story and I plan to add my theory as to what might have happened that horrid day.
I usually loved the excitement that came soon after my wish, except this one time was more than I could handle. The Ionia incident has remained in my mind; it still haunts me to this day. I swore that I would never step foot in Ionia County again, twenty-four years later and I still keep that promise to myself. In addition, I do not allow the writer personality to crave excitement anymore.
THE EVIL THAT WALKS
The moonbeam stares down
as the carcass is slaughtered.
The witching hour of night has come.
Now is the time to perish.
The yearning shows us
all is lost to the shadows
of the dead.
The sacrifice still waits
for his sensual delight.
No one is to live
The rot of the lifeless
has taken its toll.
The scatter of his blood
has filled the sacred bath.
She awaits in the mausoleum
her longing is holding.
The victim goes to his death,
an embrace of savage
As the passion dies,
he meets an eternal rest.
The soul is held onto by
The mortal remains decompose.
The apparition floats away.
He knows he must stay.
She had bewitched him.
He lost his soul to a
a tormenting vex.
Now he walks during the
looking for a woman craving
Then he steals her soul,
so that he won’t
Some sinister tales taken from the nightmares that came from the shadows of darkness that is shrouded deep within my soul. Living in the dark void of the nightmare realm the dark shadow enshrouds my soul no where to run no where to hide spiraling deeper into the abyss of shadows there is no escape from the dark nightmares that has overtaken me the evil inside dwells too deeply within my lost soul. I am forever damned to an eternity of darkness that resides inside my own mind. May the visions of darkness always enlighten you!