First Project

by Jennifer Rose McMahon

  The snap of a twig made me jump, and I scanned the area behind me with twitching eyes. My breath quickened as a rustling sound grew nearer.

  As I squinted into the darkness of the tangled branches, my gaze landed on a pair of red glowing eyes. A low, rumbling growl shot terror through me. Then more movement. More eyes. And a chorus of rumbling growls.

  I was surrounded by hounds of hell, and by the sound of their hungry snarls, they were programmed to kill.

  I turned and sprinted past the spindly trees, getting caught in their ragged branches as I flew through them. The curled branches grew thicker and wove into each other, making it nearly impossible to break through. I tore into the maze of intertwined twigs, enduring deep scratched to my face and hands.

  The snarling of the hounds grew louder as they closed in behind me.

  Panting in terrified gulps, I pulled myself past a thick trunk and ran face-first into a small wool coat, hanging on a branch from its hood. The brown jacket had cub scout patches sewn on it and would have fit a little boy. I pushed the coat away from my eyes, ready to let out a horrified scream when my focus landed on an old, ramshackle house with boarded-up windows.

  Looking back to see if the hounds were on top of me yet, glaring red eyes pierced my vision, and I ran for my life toward the derelict ruin.

  The two-story, high gabled house loomed over me as if waiting for me to enter. Its blackened, boarded-up windows watched me as I barreled toward it. Jumping up the stairs at the small porch entrance, I grabbed onto the tarnished brass doorknob, frantically twisting it.

  The dark clapboard exterior splintered, and shingles of rotted wood hung loosely, ready to fall apart at the slightest gust of wind. The condemned house seemed ready for demolition, though it could easily have been deemed a historical site from the 1600s... if anyone actually knew it was even there. Or cared.

  Just as the door released from its housing, I fell inside and slammed it shut behind me before the hounds could get their claws and teeth in me. The snapping jaws and low growls died off as they retreated into the shelter of the mangled trees.

  Panting, I scrambled to my feet and squinted into the darkness, searching for any sign of inhabitants. I moved across the empty room to the far wall where strange markings caught my attention. As I focused on the carvings next to a large fireplace, my ears twitched, remaining alert for any sound around me.

  I reached my hand to the markings on the wall and trailed my fingers over them. With a gasp, I stepped back as the shape of a bunny with long ears and a bushy tail took form. My heart rate shot to the roof as I stared at the shape created from scratches in the damp wall. The scratch marks trailed off to the sides in streaks of five lines, like fingernails that clawed desperately into the surface.

  "Tommy?" I called out by instinct, then fell silent again, listening.

  A creaking sound of shifting boards pulled my attention to the corner of the room, and I darted toward it. In the shadows was a narrow passage of stairs leading up. Lowering my head to enter the small stairwell, I climbed the uneven, rickety steps that led to the second floor.

  Slanted ceilings created a high-peaked loft area, and streaks of moonlight illuminated the musty space through gaps in a small boarded window at the front.

  Like the downstairs room, this one was empty as well, and I stepped to the single window to try to see out. As I got closer to it, my eyes focused on streak marks across the thick, fogged glass. Stick figures came clear, and I stared at the shapes of small people running and falling away from a larger, dark figure in the middle.

  I stepped back from the window, gasping for air as my eyes darted all around the room. In an instant, more claw marks in the walls became apparent, and as terror mounted, my eyes landed on broken letters toward the bottom.

  The carved lettering pulled together as I got closer and read, "H E L P M E."

  My heart pounded in my ears as I read the message scratched into the rotting wood of the wall. Someone had been trapped in here, frightened, calling for help. My eyes bulged from my head as I stepped back from the haunting words.

  Just as I turned back for the stairs, I heard it.

  Like an echo at first, the sound of voices seeped up through the floorboards. It sounded like it was coming from outside, but as I leaned into the stairwell to hear better, it was clear the voices were traveling from somewhere within the house.

  "Shane?" I screamed. "Poorva?" My voice scratched out of me in terror.

  I barreled down the narrow stairs and tripped on a loose board. My foot caught in the jagged wood of the broken step, and I fell into the sidewall, bumping my head. Dizzy and disoriented, I stumbled down the rest of the stairs and fell onto my knees with a crash.

  With a loud gasp, I froze in place and held my breath, listening.

  At first, only silence filled the empty room, but then as if from a far off place, the sound of their voices cried out to me again.

  "Brynn...."

  The sound of my name shot my eyes wide, and my breath burst in and out of me. Tears of terror pooled in my lower lids, and I squinted to clear them away.

  "I'm here!" I shouted, desperate to find my full voice. "Where are you?" I called to them.

  As I strained to listen harder, movement from the far corner of the room caught my eye. From the darkness, a figure moved out of the shadows and glided closer to me.

  My heart stopped as I stared at the shrouded silhouette with a large hood over its head.

  My shaking hands rattled in front of me as I covered my face, pushing the blur of wetness from my eyes to see more clearly. Blinking through the dusty streams of moonlight, I focused on her as she moved closer to me.

  The Dark Witch.

  As if frozen in place, my muscles refused to follow my command to run. Instead, I remained motionless in terror, waiting to see what she would do.

  As I fought my defiant muscles, straining to run for my life, her voice filled my head with its sinister, gravelly sound.

  "They've been waiting for you," she hissed.

  Her voice filled my head as if it hadn't actually left her mouth. My heart seemed to stop as I realized we were connected telepathically.

  Pulling in a huge breath of air, I gathered my wits, knowing I had to face her now, even though my body resisted.

  "I'm here to take them home," I said in my mind, staring straight at her cloaked form.

  "Mmm," she hummed. "How sweet of you."

  She moved closer, and I balled my fists by instinct.

  "It's over," I stated. "You've held on long enough. It's time for you to accept your fate and cross over."

  She stopped short for a moment, then leaned in, as if examining me.

  "You have no idea what you're talking about," she cackled. "Just like all the others. The leaders of this town may have passed through several generations, but they're all still the same. Controlling. Judging. Executing." Her voice hit a shrill snarl. "They must be punished."

  Her last words stiffened my spine, but I pushed through my fear.

  "What happened to you was a horrible, shameful crime. But these people you're hurting now, they're innocent."

  "No!" she blasted. "There is no innocence here." Her shadowy form moved closer to the point where she hovered over me. "The minister. The lawyer. The town administrators. They are all to blame."

  I thought of Ms. Kelly's husband, Michael. Then Poorva's father—the town attorney. And then Blake and Shane, their parents were involved in the town council, as well as other political involvement.

  The Dark Witch was right.

  The generations had evolved, but the leadership roles in the town were the same. And the Dark Witch held blame over them, just as Laney and her mother did.

  "But these aren't the people who hurt you," I insisted.

  "Oh, but they are. You see, the sins of our ancestors never die," she moaned. "My minister blamed me for using black magic. The town lawyer found me guilty. Then the administrators abused the power of their pos
itions against me. They are the guilty ones." Her voice grew louder and more deranged. "And they will suffer."

  I shrank back from her hovering form.

  Her words cut into my soul as I felt the depth of her pain and her need for revenge. She targeted the loved ones of those whom she believed were responsible for her violent execution.

  Caught in a state of limbo now, she required life force to remain in existence. How else would she be able to carry out her vengeance? Once that life force was snuffed, she would no longer exist. And she knew it.

  She reached out to me as if craving to touch my energy. Her charred, bony hand became exposed as the cloak fell away from it. I pulled back from the unnerving sight and hissed in fear.

  "Frightening?" she hacked. "Yes. What they did to me was barbaric." She pulled her hand back into her coverings. "But what they did to my sister was far worse."

  Sister? Jesus.

  Their line of witches went further than I realized. I wondered if we'd ever be able to stop them.

  She continued. "They forced my beloved sister into a stout barrel through which long spikes had been driven. They rolled her down a hill and burned her mangled remains at the site where she landed. All for bewitching the men of the town with her beauty and charm. Her lovely nature brought on her demise."

  She hesitated as if remembering her sister.

  Then she added, "When I exposed the leaders for their weakness in the loins, they accused me of similar witchcraft. Their heinous accusations awakened my dormant powers.

  Unknowingly, they had unlocked my dark magic, and as I burned in the public execution, I vowed to forever make them suffer."

  Chapter 25

  The Dark Witch’s thoughts filled my mind as I scrambled to keep up with her story. I couldn’t be sure if she realized the extent to which I could read her thoughts, but either way, it was clear that the pain she had endured was excruciating, even now.

  As much as I could empathize with the torture she had experienced, it still didn’t justify her actions now. She had to release her pain and her hate, and cross over. But it was clear she had no intention of doing so.

  She had made a vow.

  Her vengeance was strong, and her only focus was prolonging the pain and suffering for those who betrayed her.

  If I could convince her of my empathy, maybe I’d have a chance at rescuing my friends and getting out of there.

  “Do you realize your family is out there now, suffering?” I spoke gently.

  The witch stood taller, at attention. "No. They are powerful. My magic connects to them without yield."

  "Yes, they share some of your power. But Laney, she’s weakening. People are noticing her connection to the darkness. She’ll be exposed for Tommy's disappearance. Her mother will also take blame."

  It was true. The town was about to learn who was truly responsible for the curse on Lakefield and its innocent inhabitants. The Dark Witch’s bloodline would be exposed.

  "No, their powers are too strong. They’ll avoid persecution." Her words held steady, but she still shrank from my premonition.

  "They’ll face the barrel and the stake of our modern society," I stated, knowing the threat would strike her deepest vulnerability.

  The Dark Witch hunched over as if being hit in the gut. A deep wail churned from her throat as she cried out in pain. Her arms lifted around her as she invited the suffering to encompass her.

  As she swayed in despair, I turned in the direction I'd heard my friends calling from... and bolted.

  Behind the stairwell, I found a small door hidden in the shadows. I pulled it open, and in an instant, their voices wrapped around me, pulling me into the darkness.

  I stumbled down uneven stone stairs and trailed my hands along the rocky sidewall for stability. The stale air held a chill as the temperature plummeted in the depths of the cold, damp cellar.

  I kept my eyes wide open to see in the pitch blackness, but it was impossible. The complete absence of light created a thick blanket of nothingness.

  "Shane?" I whispered. "Are you here?" My hands felt the space in front of me as I moved farther in.

  As I held my breath, waiting for a hopeful response, a glow pulled my attention to the far corner of the basement.

  I stared at a single point of yellow illumination, and then another. Then another.

  My jaw dropped open as I gazed into the glow of my friend's energy fields. They stood together in a circle and reached out to me.

  "Brynn!" Poorva cried. "I can't believe you found us."

  Poorva had transferred her ability of seeing chakras to all of us, and the glow allowed us all to see each other in the darkness.

  Shane cupped his hand over his mouth in disbelief.

  Tears fell from my eyes as I hurried over to them. Shane pulled me into his arms as Poorva and Blake reached around me as well. We embraced each other with shaking sobs.

  After a moment, they released their hold of me and stepped back slightly. They moved aside, exposing a small form hiding behind them.

  My air whooshed out of me at the sight of him.

  "Tommy?" I whispered.

  His little face turned up at me, and he cowered behind Shane.

  "It's okay, Tommy," Shane said. "She's our friend. She's here to help us."

  I smiled and lowered myself to his level. Reaching my hand out, I said, "Nice to meet you, Tommy. I've heard so much about you." He took my hand and squeezed it. "Oh, you're strong, that's..."

  My voice caught in my throat as his energy passed through me. Instead of taking his life force back from me, he sent more of it into me. His gift was alive and powerful.

  I looked at the others, and they nodded.

  "Sure, he's Ms. Kelly's boy. Of course he's got the touch," Shane said. "Just too young to know how to use it yet."

  "It's why she wants him," Poorva said, glancing up the stone stairs to the space the witch inhabited.

  "She plans to kill us, Brynn," Blake murmured so Tommy wouldn't hear. "She only wanted to lure you here, knowing you were a threat. To murder us all. All but Tommy."

  I nodded, letting him know I understood.

  It was no surprise. She didn't need all of us. She only needed to stop us from spoiling her vendetta. If she erased us, her descendants could rise again in strength and avenge her.

  "We're all getting out of here," I stated. "Combining our powers, we can create a force she never knew existed."

  Shane stepped closer, listening intently. "How?" he asked.

  I didn't have an answer for him. I only had faith in what we were capable of doing. As a team.

  "We need to attack her weakness. Strike terror into her heart and soul," I instructed. "Her family."

  They all nodded, understanding our leverage.

  Then a blood-curdling shriek pierced through the darkness from above, causing us all to turn at full attention.

  "We need to strike now, while she's disoriented," I said. "She's unclear of what we are capable of right now. I've rattled her a bit."

  Shane grinned. "Atta girl."

  I smiled back and then moved toward the stairs. Poorva took Tommy's hand, and we climbed together.

  The glow of our energy intensified as we connected with each other's thoughts, forming one single stream of consciousness.

  With the force of an army, we burst through the cellar door and stormed into the witch's lair.

  She stood tall in the center of the room and let out an unnerving cackle.

  "So, you've found your friends," she laughed. "Weak fools. My hounds will tear you to shreds."

  I stepped to the side, exposing Tommy.

  She gasped, and her bony fingers flew to her blackened mouth.

  "How dare you," she gasped, reaching for Tommy. "That's my boy."

  "He's not your boy," I barked. "You stole him from someone else."

  "She doesn't deserve him," she squealed. "That witch thinks she's the master of us. Always has. But she has no idea how to use her magic. A
waste. She's a shame to us all."

  My eyes widened.

  Ms. Kelly was a witch. She was the leader of her sect.

  Of course.

  I'd seen it in her.

  But now I realized the extent of her power and the level of the haters that surrounded her.

  The Dark Witch was a defector.

  They were arch enemies.

  She moved closer to us, dragging her long, dark cloak behind her.

  "Give me my boy," she said, reaching out with her bony fingers.

  Tommy shrank behind us, shaking and whimpering.

  In that instant, the energy of all of us gathered in my body, and I stepped forward.

  My hands glowed purple as I reached them out to her. Power surged through my arms into my palms, and the purple hue grew into rising balls of flame.

  The Dark Witch reeled back from the sight of it and stared in horror into the flickering fire.

  With a hiss, she sneered, "Is that all you've got? Pathetic minions. She's taught you nothing."

  And with that, she lurched forward, grabbing at Tommy with a twisted shriek.

  Energy exploded from my palms as I threw my hands in her direction. Purple flames burst from me and enveloped her cloak in a roaring rush of fire.

  She fell back, stumbling to the center of the room, screaming, as her entire cloak went up in flame. Screeching in pain, she pulled at her face as she burned.

  "Run!" I shouted to the others.

  We flew to the door and tore out of the house as boards and shutters dropped from its sides.

  Her shrill screams followed us as she cried for Tommy.

  "Bring back my boy," she sobbed. "My boy..." her voice trailed off in despair. Then in a final effort of resistance, she called out to her hounds. "Kill them!" She commanded. "All but my boy!"

  The purple glow of flames shot out from every crevice in the boarded windows as her suffering streaked out with it. The entire house became engulfed in purple fire as we ran for our lives.

  As we hit the twisted, gnarled branches of the surrounding woods, we struggled to get as far away as possible. But then, our ears filled with the sinister growling of her hounds, proving we’d never get away.