Afraid of the Dark: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Midlife Spirits Series Book 1)

by H. P. Mallory

  After another few minutes, during which time I squeegeed the water off my body with my hands and then rung out my hair once more, I figured I was as dry as I was going to get. I plopped the nightgown over my head and pulled it down over my body, the hem just dusting the floor. If not for my bobbed hair, I would’ve looked like something from Little House on the Prairie.

  Starting for the door, I made my way down the hallway and up the stairs, taking a deep breath before I walked through the double doors of my master bedroom. As soon as I did, I immediately noticed a card table in the center of the room with a white sheet covering it. On top of the table were various white bowls of God only knew what as well as a black and white candle, an incense burner, a bell, what looked like a dagger, and something else that looked like a small cauldron. My breath caught in my throat as soon as my gaze settled on the human skull sitting on the table. I couldn’t seem to pull my attention from the cavernous holes where its eyes had once been or the long and square teeth that decorated its jaw, making it look as if it were smiling at me.

  “Lovie, are you ready?” Christopher asked. I then noticed Lovie was sitting to the right of the table, her attention on me.

  She simply nodded and held out both of her hands to me. I placed my hands in hers and allowed her to pull me closer to her. She stood up and smiled at me warmly, but even so, my body was a nervous, fidgety mess. I was scared. There was no use in trying to deny it because my hands were shaking.

  “We must first contact Drake so we can walk him through the ritual. We must have his permission before we can begin the possession.”

  I simply nodded and wondered how in the world we were going to reach Drake. Up until now I’d only been able to converse with him in my dreams. But I had a feeling that was about to change.

  “You and I are going to contact him together,” Lovie continued. “Ordinarily I would contact him myself but because you two have such a strong connection already, I believe we will have more luck doing so together.”

  That made sense. “Okay.”

  She led me to the chair that she’d previously occupied and pushed lightly on my shoulders to suggest that I should sit down. I did as I was instructed and folded my hands in my lap as I faced her for further directions.

  “You need to be in a receptive state,” she started, her voice lullaby soft. “In order to do that, I want you to close your eyes.” I did as I was told. “Very good. Now Peyton, I want you to breathe slowly and deeply. Breathe in for a count of five and breathe out for a count of five. Imagine taking in the air that is full of Drake’s spirit as you expel your spirit, which he then breathes in. You are uniting yourself with the air, becoming one with the air, such that Drake can inhale and exhale your life force and become one with you.”

  I didn’t point out the fact that as a spirit, I didn’t think Drake could breathe. I figured it was a moot point. Instead, I did as she instructed and started to feel light-headed. The more I breathed in and out, the more light-headed I became until I felt almost delirious.

  “Your fingers and toes, your arms and legs, will begin to tingle as you open yourself to the spirit world. Do not be afraid if you begin to feel numb and dizzy. Trust in your safety here. Continue to breathe even more slowly, more deeply as you fall into the spirit trance. I want you to now count backward from ten to one. When you reach one, I want you to tell yourself you are now ready to accept Drake’s spirit, that he will flow through you,” Lovie continued in her singsong voice.

  I nodded and started counting backward, my entire body feeling incredibly heavy and then the pins and needles started in my appendages, the feeling working its way inward, up my arms and legs until it reached my core. The numbness set in by the time I reached number five and when I got to number one, I said to myself that I was ready to accept Drake.

  “Are you prepared to receive him?” Lovie asked.

  I simply nodded and heard the tinny sound of a bell ringing. “We have created a sacred space,” Lovie said in her strong yet beautiful voice. “Drake Montague, we are ready to make contact with you.” She touched my hand then. “Peyton, you can open your eyes.”

  It felt like it took me seconds to open them but when I did, I watched Lovie reach for and light first the black candle and then the white one. She then placed each of them back on the table and closed her eyes as she said, “This black candle draws the spirit of Drake Montague that he may converse with us while the white candle shall allow him to feast upon the energy created here.”

  She then reached for a piece of paper and scribbled Drake’s name on it, placing it on what appeared to be a large pentacle that had been painted in black on the white sheet atop the table.

  “As I have written Drake’s name, I summon his spirit here!” She then reached for a bottle of oil and unstopping it, anointed her wrists, the area above her heart, her throat, her forehead, and the crown of her head before turning to me and repeating the process on me. “I consecrate myself and this woman, Peyton Clark, and ask that Drake Montague come forth and receive us both!”

  She then reached for a small sack and, unwinding the ties from it, bent over and sprinkled what appeared to be white powder on the floor around each of us and the table in a counterclockwise circle. When she was finished, she stood up and, with her face to the ceiling, announced, “This powder shall protect us from all evil and harmful energy. Let no spirit enter here who wishes to do us harm. We seek only the spirit of Drake Montague.” She glanced back at Christopher who stood in the corner of the room, watching us. “Do you have your protective defenses up, Christopher?” she asked.

  He simply nodded so she turned to face me again. This time she reached for the dagger and, holding it with her right hand with the blade down, reached for my right hand. She wrapped my hand around the handle of the blade. “Trace a circle around yourself,” she instructed. As I did, she said, “By the bronze of this dagger, Peyton casts this circle to defend her from any evil intentions. Let only the spirit of Drake Montague come forth!” She then took the dagger from me and drew a circle around herself, repeating the same mantra. Lighting a stick of incense that smelled pretty musty, we both watched the stick burn, the remnants twirling into a spent cocoon that dropped onto the holder. Once the incense had burned about halfway, she sprinkled the burnt remains onto what looked like a hunk of charcoal sitting on the tabletop. She then raised the charcoal brick directly in front of her, then to her right, then to her left before she turned around and held it up once more. Each time she switched directions, she said, “Let this sacred incense summon the spirit of Drake Montague. Come forth!”

  Then, using her right hand, she picked up what looked like a branch of a tree and tapped the crown of the skull three times, saying, “We conjure the spirit of Drake Montague to come forth with this branch of the yew tree!”

  She placed the yew branch onto the table and then picked up a glass of what looked like water, pouring it into the cauldron that was sitting on the table. She opened what looked like a jar of honey and plopped a wooden spoonful into the water, following suit with what looked like a small bowl full of olive oil, milk, and red wine. Then she sprinkled a handful of what I imagined was barley into the cauldron and said, “Let these offerings please the spirit of Drake Montague so he shall come forth!”

  Then she reached for my index finger on my right hand and, at the same time, grasped a lancet from the tabletop. Before I could pull my hand away, she pricked the end of my finger. She reached behind her for the small, black cauldron and held it underneath my hand as she rotated my hand and squeezed out three drops of blood, which landed in the cauldron. What was strange was that my body was so numb, I didn’t even feel the prick of the lancet.

  “I make this offering of Peyton’s blood, that it may feed you, Drake. Come forth!” Lovie called out.

  She then gripped my left hand and, overlaying it with hers, placed them both on the top of the skull as she closed her eyes. I followed suit and could only hear the sounds of her breath
ing deeply so I figured I should probably do the same. Almost immediately there was a vibration in the palm of my left hand, where it touched the top of the skull. The vibration climbed up my arm and seemed to reverberate through my entire body.

  “The spirit current is flowing through us,” Lovie said, obviously explaining what the vibrations were. “Drake Montague, are you there?” she asked in a loud voice.

  There was nothing but silence for a few seconds.

  “Oui.” I heard his voice as clear as day inside my head and I nearly opened my eyes in response but then reminded myself to keep them closed.

  “Is that his voice?” Lovie whispered to me, which I guessed meant she must have somehow heard his voice inside her head as well.

  “Yes it is,” I answered.

  “I want you to introduce me to him and tell him not to be frightened. He will only be able to hear you,” she continued. “And you must converse with him in thought only. He will not be able to hear your voice.”

  I simply nodded. “Drake,” I started. “It’s me, Peyton. Can you hear me?”

  “Oui, I can, ma minette. Are you well? Is everything okay?” he answered immediately, his voice laced with worry. “I do not understand how we are conversing as I cannot see you. I can only hear your voice.”

  “Yes, everything is okay,” I answered in thought. “I want you to know that I have two people here with me. Lovie is a witch and she is the one who is doing this ritual so you and I can speak. She isn’t going to hurt you.”

  “Je comprends. I understand.”

  I took a deep breath. “The other person is Christopher. He’s the warlock who came to visit you earlier, do you remember?”

  “I recall,” Drake responded. His voice suddenly sounded tired, exhausted really, and I had to wonder if he was in even worse shape than he had been the last time I’d seen him.

  “You must explain to him that we are going to attempt a possession uniting the two of you,” Lovie interrupted. “You must get him to agree to it before we can attempt it.”

  I nodded. “Drake, we are going to do a ritual whereby you are going to ... to possess me. It’s the only way to ensure this entity doesn’t defeat you and, at the same time, it’s also the only way to ensure that it doesn’t ... hurt me.”

  “Are you certain, ma minette?” he asked, his voice reflecting alarm. “Do you understand what this means for you?”

  “I do,” I answered immediately. “It’s the only way to ensure both of us are safe, Drake. But before we move forward, I must have your permission.”

  He was quiet for a few seconds. “Ma minette, if you are doing this to spare me, I do not give you my permission.”

  “No, Drake, it isn’t just for you,” I answered immediately, knowing that if I tried to convince him to do it in order to save himself, he wouldn’t go for it. Nope, the only way Drake was going to agree was if I built up the case that my safety was on the line. “If the entity defeats you, I have no defenses against it.”

  “If what you say is true and this will be of benefit to you, then I absolutely grant you my permission,” he answered automatically.

  I opened my eyes and simply nodded at Lovie who offered me a relieved smile. “Tell him he needs to stay with us, that the rest of the ritual will not take long.”

  I informed him of as much and then watched as Christopher pushed off from where he’d been leaning against the wall at the far side of the room. He stepped over the powder circle that surrounded us and then, taking up the bronze dagger, circled it around himself, repeating the same words about protection. He nodded to Lovie who then looked at me and smiled.

  “I am going to retreat out of the circle now, Peyton,” she said and suddenly seemed incredibly tired. “Do not remove your hand from the skull or we will lose our connection to Drake.”

  I simply nodded and watched her pull her hand away from mine as she picked up the branch of yew and circled herself with it in a clockwise direction. She said out loud, “I hereby relinquish myself from this sacred circle. Let no harmful entities or powers follow me.”

  Then she placed the branch back on the table and stepped over the circle of powder, retreating to the far side of the room where she took a seat on a makeshift chair they must have brought with them. She reached inside a bag nearby and pulled out a bottle of water, which she downed in almost one gulp.

  “Peyton, are you ready to move on?” Christopher asked, studying me intently from where he stood in front of me. “Do you feel strong enough to continue? Because the rest of this ritual will require your strength.”

  I swallowed hard but then nodded, figuring there was no time like the present to get possessed. He didn’t say anything more but simply nodded and turned toward the table where he added a small palmful of salt to a bowl of water. He mixed it with the index finger of his right hand. Then he drew something in the air above the bowl of water and then drew what appeared to be a cross in the air. “I bless this water by the power of Michael the Archangel as well as that of my own that it shall purify this space and rid it of all malevolence.” He said the words with such authority that he almost seemed angry.

  He then drew whatever image (which I was beginning to think might be a pentacle) in the air and repeated his comment over the incense and over both candles. Stepping out of the circle, he picked up a bowl of what looked like salt and walked to the far side of the room where he closed the double doors. Then he sprinkled the salt in all four corners of the room, repeating, “By the element of salt of the earth and my power as a warlock practitioner, I banish all evil and harm from this room! Let only the spirit of Drake Montague remain here with us! All others shall return whence they came!”

  He then stepped back into the circle and held up the white candle, but not before first blowing out the black one and allowing the smoke to dissipate from the air. “By this sacred flame, the element of fire shall cleanse and purify this space of evilness.” He stepped out of the circle again and visited each corner of the room, raising the candle up to each corner and repeating the mantra to cleanse and purify the space.

  Following suit with a new stick of incense, he did the same with a bowl of spring water. Apparently this possession ritual required calling on all the elements—fire (the candle), water (the spring water), air (the incense), and earth (the salt)—to cleanse and purify the room. When he returned to the circle, he picked up the bell and rang it four times, saying, “Let all things malevolent hear this bell and depart this space immediately! I banish all evil spirits from this place!”

  Then he picked up the bronze dagger and the bowl of salt, stepping out of the circle. He approached the double doors and then each of the four windows in the room, drawing a cross with the dagger in the air just in front of them. Then he sprinkled a line of salt in front of the windows and followed suit in front of the doorway. “By this salt of the earth and the blade of bronze, I consecrate this threshold such that no malevolent spirits can pass by!”

  When he returned to the circle, he placed the dagger and the bowl of salt on the table and then faced me. “Are you ready?”

  I simply nodded and watched as he cleared his throat. “Begin your deep breathing in and out again. You must allow the spirit world into your lungs, into yourself. Imagine bringing Drake into your body, becoming one with him.”

  I nodded again and started to breath in and then breathe out again for a count of five. I watched Christopher place his hand on top of mine, which still lay limply on the top of the skull. He closed his eyes and they immediately started to twitch as he began to chant something in his head, his lips moving with the words.

  He opened his eyes and with his right hand still on the skull, he placed the palm of his left hand on my forehead. “Is Drake with us still?” he whispered to me.

  Figuring that was my cue to try to make contact with Drake, I closed my eyes and thought to myself, “Drake, are you still here?”

  “Oui.”

  I opened my eyes and glanced up at Christ
opher, merely nodding. Christopher looked down at the table and, picking up the lancet, faced my hand where it lay on top of the skull. He then picked up each of my fingers and pierced the fleshy pad of each one, squeezing until a drop of blood appeared. Just as with the last time, I couldn’t feel anything. Then he pushed my fingers onto the threshold of the skull, smearing it with my blood.

  He faced me. “Do you, Peyton Clark, agree to open yourself up to the spirit of Drake Montague so that he shall inhabit your body?”

  I figured my answer was supposed to be a “yes” so I answered in accordance.

  Christopher nodded and then faced the air again, holding up his arms as he continued speaking in a loud voice, “This woman has agreed to open herself up to the spirit of Drake Montague. As she has shed her blood, so shall she offer domicile to Drake’s spirit only. No other spirits are given permission to become one with her body. As administrator of this ritual, I call forth the spirit of Drake Montague into this sacred circle.”

  I suddenly felt a whoosh of cold air against my face and the flame of the white candle began to flicker back and forth. I reminded myself to continue with my deep breathing even as my heartbeat began to escalate.

  “Drake Montague, is that you?” Christopher called out as he glanced around himself. “If it is truly the spirit of Drake Montague, I beseech you to give us word.”

  “Oui. I am here, ma minette,” I heard Drake’s voice in my head.

  “He’s here,” I whispered, finding it difficult to speak when my heart was beating uncontrollably and I was starting to feel like I might pass out.

  “Repeat after me,” Christopher started as he focused on me. “I, Peyton Clark, open myself to receiving the spirit of Drake Montague.”