Payback's a Witch

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Payback's a Witch Page 8

by Constance Barker


  “Hello?” I said softly into the house. Winnie grabbed my arm, trying to pull me back. She hadn’t realized yet. We weren’t dealing with a ghost, at least not right now. “Adam?” I walked farther into the house. The sobs were coming from the room where Allison was murdered. “Adam?” I whispered again.

  A hunched over figure, the source of the noise stopped at once. He was a large hulking man. I could tell even from his curled-up body that he was well over six feet and broad. Adam looked up at us with a large tear stained face. The man was a twisted version of what he once was. Much older than he had been when he was arrested, almost his entire life had been lost. I realized though that he must have been very young when he was taken away.

  “Hello, Adam,” I said coming closer. He backed away making grunting noises. It seemed the treatment he had gotten at the institution had done a number on him.

  “Stay back,” he said in a thick voice. “Not going back.”

  “We’re not here to take you back.” I made no move to get closer to him. If he wanted distance, I’d allow him that. “We’re here to help you.”

  “Adam Hillman,” Devon said to himself. “You broke out of the institution.”

  “Let me out.” Adam was still cowered in the corner, though he had turned to face us. He would have been handsome once.

  “We’re not keeping you here,” Winnie assured him softly.

  “No,” he shouted, making me jump. “They let me out.”

  “You didn’t break out?” I asked, I had surmised that much for myself already. I was surprised that Devon hadn’t.

  “No.” Adam shook his head vigorously. “Someone came and told me it was time to leave. Then they took me out the back way and didn’t let me take any of my belongings. Told me to start running.”

  “Who let you out?” I took a small step towards him. He didn’t react, so I took a few more steps. “Do you remember?”

  “Woman did it. Both times, same woman.” He looked around in fright as though whoever this woman was stood in the room with us. “The hatchet man made me do bad things. They knew it wasn’t me, but they sent me away anyhow. Said I did lots of other bad things too. Woman told me I killed again, that I broke out and murdered another young woman.” Adam started to move toward me.

  “Keep back,” Devon warned him, his hand was on his holster. I shot him a glare. Adam wasn’t a danger to anyone, and if he was it was the council’s fault.

  “Stop it,” I ordered. Devon’s hand didn’t move from its position, but he backed off. “We know you didn’t do any of that.” Adam scrambled towards me still hunched over. Devon moved to take his firearm out, but another glare made him back down.

  “You know?” Adam asked looking up at me. It was almost like he hadn’t been kept in a room where he could fully stand. “Innocent.”

  “We know,” Winnie said. She had her hand over Devon’s as she kept him from reaching for his gun. He was only doing as he was trained, but he’d only escalate the situation. “Do you know who the woman was?”

  “No name,” Adam shook his head. “Never heard her name.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. I took his hand in mine and put a hand on his shoulder. I tried gently leading him out of the house. To my surprise he came without any protest. “What about her looks? Do you remember that?” His brain was so addled by whatever he had been subjected to in the institution I was impressed he could even still speak.

  “Orange.” He grimaced with the effort of trying to remember. “Orange on her face, in her hair.”

  “Anything else?” Devon asked this time. He had already jumped to the same conclusion as Winnie and I had. There was one woman that we all knew who wore orange lipstick and had poorly dyed hair.

  “Old, glasses. Seemed meek but really cruel.” Adam gripped his head in his hands like he was trying to squeeze the memory from his very skull.

  “Carol,” I said it for Winnie and Devon. “She must be on the council too.”

  “That must have been what they were doing tonight,” Winnie said with a shake of her head. “I knew people didn’t just go home to sleep or eat with their families. She and the sheriff were framing Adam.”

  “I think we need to pay Carol a visit,” Devon suggested through gritted teeth. His fists were balled up in a way I knew that his nails were digging into his palms. I hadn’t thought him capable of anger like that, but it was plain as day on his face. The distrust his coworkers had for him, the terrible things they had done to keep from getting the blame had pushed him to it.

  “I think so too,” I said. “We need to bring Adam somewhere safe.” I racked my brains. If we stayed in a motel, we’d have brought him there. One of us would have to stay back and keep an eye on him, though I had a feeling we’d need everyone on hand.

  “Nan’s,” Winnie said. It was the only choice we really had. “She seems to know him and clearly thinks he's innocent.” Reluctantly, I agreed. I didn’t want to leave him there alone with her though. He was made unpredictable by the abuse he’d suffered. I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to Nan.

  “ADAM.” NAN LOOKED ON disbelieving as we smuggled him inside. We had called her ahead but hadn’t explained completely. “Oh, Adam,” she repeated and pulled him into a hug.

  “Nan?” He recognized her. There was no time to waste, they could have their reunion in a moment after we left.

  “Winnie is going to stay with you.” Winnie groaned at my statement. She had hoped that Alan would be the one to stay behind. Despite my trust in him, I doubted a bird’s ability against a man as large as Adam. He still hadn’t stood at his full height, yet he hulked at least a head taller than each of us.

  “No need,” Nan said, Adam was still in her arms. The man was reduced to tears, as though he was a lost child who had finally made it home. “Adam is my stepson.”

  “Your stepson?” Nan nodded, somehow, we could still see her over Adam’s hulking form. “You know he’s innocent, then?”

  “Didn’t believe he was guilty for a second.” Adam let out another sob. “I’ll keep him safe.” I liked that Nan didn’t ask too many questions. She was just happy to have her son back, didn’t really care about the details surrounding the situation.

  It was time for us to go to Carol’s and find out what was really going on in this town and why the ritual didn’t work last time.

  Chapter Twelve

  Carol’s house was almost completely dark when we got there. It was nearly one in the morning, but none of us cared. Winnie and Alan were too riled to even get car sick on the drive over. The only thing that gave her away as being home was her car in the driveway and a light on in the basement.

  “Carol!” Devon shouted as he banged on the door. There was no answer. He tried once more. After she didn’t respond a second time, he tried the handle which didn’t budge.

  “Let me try,” I said pushing him out of the way. I’d have to be a bit subtle about it, still not wanting him to know that we were witches. I banged on the door as well, “Carol!” I shouted. When that didn’t work, I tried the knob. This time I whispered a small incantation under my breath making it turn.

  “How’d you do that?” Devon asked. “It wouldn’t budge for me.”

  “Just turned it the other way,” I said with a shrug, hoping that would be enough. Devon looked embarrassed and nodded.

  “Should we just be going into her house?” He asked, as though he just remembered that he was a police officer and not a vigilante. “We don’t have a warrant or anything.”

  “It was open,” Winnie shrugged. Chanting was coming from inside the house. “Besides, I think we have bigger things to worry about.”

  The chanting was coming from the basement, where the light was on. Carol wasn’t alone, other voices mixed with hers in the chants. Winnie and I shivered at the same time. We recognized some of the words they were saying. Whatever they were doing it was invoking dark magic, which was a crime in Nikatomia.

  The light we had seen f
rom outside was dozens of candles lit around the room in her basement. It was painted a deep red, with a five-point star painted on the ground. Carol must not have many visitors if she was comfortable with this kind of décor downstairs. It clashed with her other décor such as the embroidered pillows I had seen on the couch upstairs. Both of which were stitched with bible verses.

  “We wondered when you would show up,” Peter said, the chanting stopping abruptly.

  “Attempting the ritual again?” I asked. “Since you have your scapegoat all ready.” Accusation dripped from my voice.

  “We need to keep the town safe,” Carol piped up. Clearly here she was in charge, not the sheriff. “Keep the hatchet man at bay.”

  “We’re sorry for what happened to Adam,” one of the other members spoke. I assumed he was Sam. He was plump but looked authoritative. The other two members didn’t look likely to speak up, clearly under the thumb of the three head council members. “It’s an unfortunate necessity to keeping the town safe.”

  “A necessity?” Devon sputtered.

  “Yes,” Sam turned on him. “A necessity.”

  “You couldn’t have just let the cases go unsolved?” Winnie asked. “You didn’t have to wrongfully accuse him.”

  “We had no intention of doing so, at first.” Peter spoke this time. “He was caught red handed when that grounds keeper died. It just fit so neatly, we couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be rid of all our loose ends. Adam was the one who got himself in the institution for the rest of his life. He wouldn’t stop going on about being possessed by the ghost of the hatchet man.”

  “Which you knew was true,” I accused.

  “How were we supposed to own up to that?” Peter asked. Of the three, he seemed genuinely distressed over their actions. “We’d have ended up in the room next door to him in the loony bin.”

  “You didn’t have to let him free only so you can blame Allison’s death on him now too.” Devon stood his ground. His anger was keeping him strong in confronting them.

  “What are you talking about?” Peter asked looking to his fellow council members. They looked as dumbstruck as he. We knew though, that at least one of them was acting.

  “What do you mean?” Sam echoed Peter’s question.

  “Adam Hillman has ‘escaped’,” I said using air quotes. “From the institution. According to the news reports he’s been missing since before Allison went missing, and he’s wanted for her murder.”

  “What is she talking about?” Peter repeated the question, this time asking the council members if they knew anything.

  “It’s what’s necessary for the safety of the town,” Carol said without feeling. She seemed to stand taller now that she was in her element. No longer appearing to be the meek receptionist to the sheriff, her true nature being revealed.

  “Carol,” Sam whispered with shock. “You didn’t.”

  “I did.” She was challenging them to do something about it. “The rest of you don’t have the stomach to do what needs to be done. You never have.”

  “We were going to leave the man alone,” Peter said. “We’ve already done enough to ruin his life. It wasn’t necessary. No one was looking into Allison’s death except for her friend and she’d given up.”

  “Then they showed up.” Carol pointed at me and Winnie. “They were looking into it. Nosy brats. I figured I’d wrap it up for them in a nice bow and they could get the hell out of here, but they kept asking questions.”

  “You are hereby stripped of your membership to the council,” Sam started, he was out of breath from the shock of the information. Carol cackled with laughter at him.

  “You think you can kick me out?” She laughed more. “I’ve been on this council since it was founded. You all think that I can’t hack it anymore. Taking the scroll from me, electing Sam to the head of the council. What you don’t know is that I’m stronger than any of you. I was going to prove it to you all at the last ritual.”

  Practicing dark magic for that long would twist anyone, let alone someone not actually magical. They could perform rituals and follow recipes but never spells. None of it would have been particularly effective at anything but twisting the old woman’s soul into a foul thing.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Devon asked, disgust clear on his face. Carol laughed at the deputy in response.

  “What do you mean you were going to prove it?” Winnie asked.

  “They think I need the scroll in order to remember the ritual. I’ve been doing it annually for thirty some odd years. I know it like I know the back of my hand. There have been whispers for a while that they wanted me out of the council.” Carol glowered at Sam and Peter. “Didn’t think I was right in my mind, thought I was too old. I knew what they were doing from the start. I knew what I was going to have to do in response.”

  “What did you do?” Peter looked shaken from the discovery, unsteady on his feet.

  “I changed the ritual.” She let out a barking laugh. “I found a way to get Andrew Hellman to do my bidding. I was going to set him loose on you!” She pointed to Sam. “Then I’d convince the rest of them that you weren’t fit for the head position. If they resisted all I’d have to do is set the hatchet man on them.”

  “You’re the reason Allison is dead.” The play for power that Carol had attempted had obviously failed. Likely she had attempted to bind him to her will, but without magic it wouldn’t have held.

  “You’re a murderer,” Sam accused Carol. “You tried to kill me.”

  “Something went wrong, and I lost control of the hatchet man,” Carol continued ignoring the accusations flying at her from all directions. “I have other tricks up my sleeves though.” She chortled as she began chanting once more. She was finishing the ritual on her own, bringing Andrew Hellman to us. Deranged into believing that she could force him to do her bidding. Even a formidably powerful witch would struggle with that.

  “Stop her!” I shouted. The room was like a wind tunnel and my voice got lost inside it. The wind whipped around us as Carol screamed her chants to the world. The gale swirled around her, not even touching her as she stood in the middle of the star. She was summoning him. The fact that he wouldn’t be bound to her will was almost more terrifying. Abruptly the gusts died out. I felt choked, like the wind had been knocked out of me. “Stop her,” I repeated but it was too late. The ghost of Andrew Hellman, the hatchet man, was standing in front of Carol.

  He was tall like Adam, but there was no tenderness in his face. He held his head awkwardly to the side, it was stuck there from his hanging. Aside from this it was like I was looking at Adam once more. They had the same narrow nose and wide set eyes. Ironically, there could be no denial that Adam was descendant of this evil. It was said that Hellman had finally snapped because he was insistent that Mary had cheated on him. He didn’t believe that his children were actually his. He couldn’t had been more wrong. I could see Carol behind him, as he was transparent to a point. She was dwarfed by his massive form and once again seemed docile though this was just an act. The wickedness was still in her eyes.

  Our binding spell had been based on the idea that he might be weakened from the banishing ritual. This was no longer the case, he had been summoned and was completely unbound. An inhumanely deep chuckle escaped his lips. It sounded even more wrong coming from the broken necked man.

  “What do we do?” A frightened Devon asked me and Winnie. Alan had been swept up by the wind and was knocked unconscious in the corner of the room. I could see his small chest rise and fall though, so I knew it wasn’t fatal. I crawled towards him. Andrew Hellman was still getting used to his surroundings and didn’t notice.

  “We need you to do the banishment ritual,” I shouted loudly enough that the remaining council members could hear. Sam and Peter nodded, as well as the other two. They looked petrified, but they would do what it took to be rid of the hatchet man once and for all. Andrew looked at me then, singling me out.

  “While you are doing that, you
’ll see him get weaker. When that happens, we’ll perform a binding spell,” Winnie whispered. Andrew started to step towards me. I would be a distraction while the council got ready.

  “Devon, read this,” Peter tossed him the scrolls. “Stand at the tip of that point.”

  “Kill them,” Carol ordered mimicking his laughter. She didn’t realize that he wasn’t bound to her. The spirit turned his attentions on her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As soon as Andrew’s attention was no longer on me, I dove to Alan. I had to wake him. My magic was stronger with him amplifying it. Another purpose of the bond we shared.

  “Kill them,” Carol repeated pointing non-discriminately around her. “They’re the ones trying to banish you. Trying to weaken you.” Andrew listened to her words, unable to speak a response with his neck broken. I doubted a man like that was very happy taking orders or advice from any woman.

  He stalked towards her, ax in hand. It was poised to drop on her, surely it would have killed her instantly. Carol shrieked in terror as he came closer. She began to scramble away from him. Her basement was small though and there wasn’t very far for her to go. As he stood over her with his ax at the ready, the council began their chant.

  The council and Devon were efficient at getting ready. Apparently, they had all memorized the ritual chant, so only Devon was reading from the pages. I hoped his botched pronunciation wouldn’t screw things up too much. His thick accent couldn’t get around the delicate Latin vowels. I gently slapped Alan across the beak a couple times, eventually he shook his head and stood up.

 

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