Becca's Paranormal Collection

by Vickery, Rebecca J.

  "I don't like how this is shaping up, Gabe." Isobel flipped back through her notes. "We are going to be in a world of trouble if we go after Stevenson and it wasn't him."

  "Yeah, but if we don't we may let a murderer go free. I'm beat. Let's get some rest and start again in a few hours."

  Chapter Thirteen

  Upstairs in the sitting room off the master bedroom, Gray moved his champagne filled flute to touch the rim of the other three glasses filled with white liquid as they lifted toward him.

  "To Gregory."

  "To Gregory," they echoed.

  "I'm really going to miss him," Maribeth told the small group.

  Gray sat on the sofa beside her and slid an arm around her shoulders. "I know, my dear. But this couldn't go on any longer. Why, the cost of buying off Stevenson's daughter would have paid for a small island in the tropics. And the maid he got in trouble was barely of age. Besides, it serves our esteemed lieutenant governor right to be set up for Gregory's death. I told him to keep his girl away from Greggy and he wouldn't listen. He actually thought he would ride his way into the governor's mansion on my coat-tails once they married. Then he had the nerve to hit me up for more money again tonight."

  Erica sat down and cuddled to his other side. "Didn't I play my part well?"

  "You were magnificent. The stage missed a brilliant star," Gray assured the tall, slender brunette and dropped an indulgent kiss on her forehead.

  Maribeth looked at the shapely maid. "You did well, Ally. Very convincing. Did you ever tell them you're pregnant, too?"

  "Never came up. Besides, I really never slept with Greg. Gray is my baby's father."

  Erica jumped up then stared accusingly at Gray. "Where does that leave us then? You'll have a new heir and our babies will get squat. This wasn't in the plan."

  "Tut, tut, Erica. Sit down and don't stress yourself. There is plenty of my money, and me, to go around. The papers are being drawn up as we speak to take care of all of you and your babies for as long as you live. Now, come along and let's have another toast, shall we?" Gray poured each of them another splash of the champagne-laced milk and topped off his own glass with pure Cristal. He would only have to keep these women content until after the babies arrived and then the horrible accidents could happen.

  Next Halloween would be the perfect time for them to be eliminated. A fall down the stairs for Mari, perhaps? Reminiscent of my dear, departed wife... Maybe a leap from an attic window in a fit of postpartum depression for Erica? She will naturally be distraught at losing her looks to the ravages of pregnancy and childbirth. Ally is deathly allergic to scorpion bites. Yes, that just might work.

  "To our new family, and another wonderful Halloween. It's my favorite holiday, you know. I can't wait to see what the next one holds for each of us." Gray lifted his glass high, offered a wide smile all around, and then took a large swallow of bubbly.

  The End

  Speculative Fiction with a twist of witchcraft and horror...

  This night of the blue moon is to be magical. Carissa has fulfilled her most important duty ever to the coven and looks forward to the ceremony to take place as All Hallow's Eve waxes into Samhain.

  But events go horribly wrong.

  Screams, agony, terror, and death are everywhere. What has been loosed upon the world? What price will Carissa pay for being a participant?

  Night of the Blue Moon

  Chapter One

  Carissa held the flaming torch in front of her as she crept forward, ever deeper into the narrow tunnel. The men who led her to the entrance refused to accompany her inside. It took a large portion of the money Lady Sophia gave her to convince them just to bring her here. But no matter the offer of compensation, they would not come inside with her.

  Now she knew why.

  Cold currents of air wafted over her, causing goose bumps to tingle along her arms. She shivered as the constant sound of dripping water played across her tightly stretched nerves. Wet spots spread over her shirt and pants as she walked beneath the trickles of water. Worst of all, the smell of rot, dampness, and mold reminded her of things long dead and best left buried. Oh, how she wished this had not been her ancestral duty. Raised to be of service and fulfill the assignments of her coven, Carissa had given up most things a young woman craves. She had never attended a prom or been on a date, never joined friends for a picnic or a sports game, and never felt the caress of a lover's hand in the dark of night.

  One would think I'm a nun who took a vow of chastity to an order. Carissa vowed to herself that if she got back out of this hole, she would do things differently from now on. She pushed away the unusual thoughts and took a steadying breath, fighting the panic the enclosing earth and the overwhelming stench magnified to the point where she wanted to scream.

  She must continue. Carissa dared not go back empty handed or her ancestors would curse her for all time. Pandora's last living relative, Lady Sophia, entrusted her with the knowledge to retrieve the precious treasure. Retrieve it she would, or perish in the attempt. The latter was looking more and more a distinct possibility, come to think of it.

  A gasp escaped Carissa as a small creature scampered across her foot and she lurched to one side. The torch ignited a cluster of silken spider webs hanging from the arched dirt over her head. She threw up her arm to protect her face from the flames and backed away. The bright flicker of fire quickly died, leaving the cave appearing even darker than before. After drawing in several ragged breaths, Carissa continued, inching forward one tiny step at a time. Where is Indiana Jones when you need him?

  Stepping carefully around a pile of fallen rocks, Carissa located the narrow course of steps carved into the tunnel floor. They were just as described. Carissa's heart jumped into her throat at the realization that she would be able to complete her quest. One cautious step at a time, Carissa descended into the lower regions of the earth. Like going into the bowels of a great sleeping monster, she couldn't help thinking as a shudder wracked her slim figure.

  Chapter Two

  The tunnel closed in around Carissa, becoming little more than a crawl space. Dirt sprinkled down when her head brushed the low ceiling, causing her to cough and sneeze. At least the dripping water had stopped, though her shirt now felt damp and clammy around her shoulders. She adjusted her backpack lower, so as not to hang in the dirt above her, and pushed on.

  "Oh God, please don't go out," she whispered to the torch as it flickered and made a sputtering sound. She would give anything for a strong battery-powered flashlight. But she had been warned by Lady Sophia that a battery light would not last long – something about the energy in the tunnels would quickly draw the very power from the batteries and leave her in total darkness. She quivered from head to toe at the mere thought of being here with no light.

  Her knees began to ache and her hands became scratched and filthy. She knew her hair was full of dirt and she dared not wonder what else. Crawl a few inches, slide the torch forward, crawl a few inches, slide the torch forward... Carissa lost all track of time as she made slow progress through the narrow passage. She began to fear she would go mad before she found anything except more dirt and darkness yawning before her.

  Just when she felt hysteria growing, clawing at the edges of her mind, fighting to overwhelm her, she reached a stone tablet blocking the entrance to the secret chamber. Relief flooded through her whole body and for several moments she was too limp to move. Then, using the sleeve of her shirt, Carissa slowly rubbed away the years of dust until she could see the markings painstakingly carved into the rock. She removed the velvet pouch containing the oddly shaped crystals from her backpack. Following her memorized instructions, Carissa inserted the crystals into their allotted depressions in the tablet.

  The fifth and final shape clicked into place. A groaning behind the wall indicated something happened. Carissa drew back as more loose dirt rained down. Then the stone tablet shuddered and slid to the left.

  Carissa covered her nose with one ha
nd as a horrible smell rode out on the released air. "Ewww, mercy! I hope that's not something alive in there." She poked the torch through the opening and cautiously stuck in her head.

  A square chamber with stone walls opened before her. Though the scent remained putrid, she crawled in, and then stood to look around. This was the right room. The flames of her torch flickered over a raised stone dais in the very center of the ten by ten square area. Atop the dais waited the box holding the valuable treasure.

  Ancient carvings decorated the walls and the stone dais. Dusty tiles covered the floor. Sconces at the center of each wall held torches at the ready. Carissa stepped to her left and lit the nearest one. She moved to the next one and then the next. As she approached the last, she tripped on a bundle of rags.

  A clattering sound followed by a skull rolling across the floor elicited a shriek and a muttered curse. Carissa had forgotten about the Guardian of the Treasure. Hesitantly, she retrieved the skull and lifted it gingerly.

  "Forgive me for my disturbance of your resting place," she begged.

  "I mean you no harm. As the messenger of Pandora, I beseech you to bless my mission from your mistress." She placed the skull carefully back atop the rags and then lit the final torch.

  Chapter Three

  The dusty box resting at the pinnacle of the dais revealed a few glittering spots of silver in the torchlight. Carissa walked over to kneel before the dais. After bowing her head, she repeated the words she had been taught since childhood. "Mother Earth, Father Time, Sisters Wind, Water, and Fire, hear my plea. Bless this servant before you. Allow me to grow in wisdom and to follow your ways with all power. Grant me success in my quest. Blessed be."

  Carissa stretched out a tentative hand and touched the box. Rather than cold metal, it felt almost like warm, pulsing flesh. She gently brushed away the dust. Her instructions were to recover the box and return home with it. The treasure was needed at the next ceremony, planned for the night of the blue moon, which for the first time in many years fell on Samhain, or the day following All Hallow's Eve, as most knew it. The stars and planets would also be in perfect alignment on that night. These events would not all occur simultaneously for at least another hundred years.

  The silver gleamed in the firelight and beckoned to Carissa. Under strict orders, she knew not to open the box, but the temptation to peek tugged at her like a living thing, almost overwhelming her. Something about the box drew her as a magnet would draw iron shavings, or as whiskey would draw an alcoholic. She felt herself tremble as she fought the need to open Pandora's Box.

  Instead, she grabbed the box from the dais, wrapped it with a soft piece of velvet, and hastily shoved it into her backpack. Feeling as if there were eyes upon her, Carissa swiftly traded her barely flickering torch for one from a sconce. She located the hole where she entered and dropped to her knees to crawl out. Remembering her instructions, Carissa touched a round impression in the inner wall to the right of the opening and quickly scooted into the tunnel. The stone tablet noisily slid into place behind her, once again sealing the secret chamber.

  After removing the five specially-shaped crystals from the stone tablet, Carissa wrapped them, placed them in their velvet pouch, and returned the bundle to her backpack. She began the long climb out of the bowels of the earth.

  * * * * *

  Carissa arrived home days later, exhausted, but elated. She had successfully smuggled the silver box through customs mixed in a selection of cheap trinkets and a few odd silver pieces she purchased in a large market.

  Because she often bought pieces for her shop and always paid the duty on them, no one had even raised a brow at her at the airport. Now, she could lock the treasure in the safe and wait for the ceremony on the night of the blue moon.

  Chapter Four

  Hooded figures milled about the stone dais. Thirteen covens of thirteen member each, made a total of one hundred sixty-nine members present. No one wanted to miss the power and magnificence of this night. Several witches busily etched a pentagram into the ground while others sprinkled freshly ground sea salt on the outer edges of the clearing. Still others built small fires at designated locations and made sure there was enough wood piled nearby to last through the night.

  An almost exact replica of the dais where the silver box rested when Carissa found it awaited the special treasure. Carissa, hooded like the others, carried the box carefully and placed it ever so gently in the center of the stone altar. The difference in this dais was the shallow, bowl-like depression carved into the top of the stone. It now held purified water. The box, being slightly larger than the carved out bowl, sat directly over it.

  Carissa watched the preparations anxiously. The sky had contained a few clouds earlier, but those blew away and left a dark blue canopy studded with stars. No sign of anything which might interfere with their access to the full moon. With the first important part of her quest fulfilled, Carissa asked a quick blessing and moved away from the box to find her place among her coven.

  A circle, three-deep, of cloaked and hooded followers formed around the pentagram etched into the earth with the stone dais containing Pandora's Box at the center. As the moon cleared the horizon, they joined hands and began their task.

  "Mother Earth, Father Time, Sisters Wind, Water, and Fire, hear my plea. Bless this servant before you. Allow me to grow in wisdom and to follow your ways with all power. Grant me success in my quest. Blessed be." They chanted the request three times.

  Then the last living relative of Pandora, the Lady Sophia, leader of the Coven of the Fifth House of Pandora, stepped into the circle and determinedly walked the lines of the pentagram. Once finished, the stooped, cloaked figure walked over to the stone dais and knelt. The hood was thrown back to reveal a wrinkled, ancient face. The old woman raised thin spindly arms toward the moon.

  In a surprisingly strong voice, she commanded, "Pandora, mistress of the treasure, keeper of the box, ancestor so beloved... Come forth. Your servants await you. It is the appointed day and hour." Taking a curved dagger from beneath her robe, she offered it to the five points of the pentagram. The old one then cut a line across her left palm and held her bleeding hand over the top of the silver box.

  Chapter Five

  The drops of blood actually sizzled as they hit the top of the silver box. The fires around the clearing leapt with new life, though no one moved to add fuel. They burned high and bright, lighting the entire area with an unearthly glow. The wind howled around the dais, but stirred not one remaining leaf on any tree nearby, nor ruffled one hood of the followers. Vapor began to rise around the silver box as the water beneath it boiled.

  "Pandora, mistress of the treasure and keeper of the box, we beseech thee to come forth!" the old woman commanded even louder.

  Carissa held her breath as she saw a figure appear among the mist rising above the box. She felt the hands clasping hers on either side squeeze tighter and knew they too could see the apparition. A woman of beauty, with abundant red hair, and wrapped in diaphanous silver robes became more tangible, fully visible to all who gathered.

  "I am here," the ghostly figure of the woman, answered. "It is time," she proclaimed, and then reached down a wispy hand from where she hovered, to reverently touch the box. "The treasure loosed this night will make man regret having been born. You seek Pandora to bless the box and confirm the seal before returning it to the chamber for another millennium. I am here in her stead. I am Anne, imprisoned unjustly in the Underworld eons ago. Now this accursed planet will weep before the next true blue moon arrives. I demand it as payment for the innocents who have suffered, the children who have died—for the tears of the loved ones shed because of the wars, the disease, and the evils forced on the Earth by mankind. So be it!"

  Lady Sophia screamed, "No, please! This isn't the way. We must do no harm..." She sobbed into her hands, calling out to the Old Ones for help, as her appeal was ignored, even laughed at, by Anne.

  Cackling fiercely, the apparition's beau
tiful countenance changed into the face of a snarling, long-toothed, shadowy demon with horns. Then flames curled about her as she faded into the disappearing mist. Suddenly, a strong wind swirled in from nowhere and the silver box flew from the dais. It fell to the ground, the lid bursting open.

  Lady Sophia lurched forward, fighting against the increasing force of the windy gusts, reaching out in an effort to close the box, to stop what would happen. As she made contact, the flesh of her hand melted away from the bone. She screamed in agony and writhed on the ground as first her arm and then the rest of her body dissolved, leaving behind only a cleanly bleached skeleton, mouth hole open in a parody of an agonized cry.

  Screams of terror and anguish filled the clearing. At first, too horrified by the events they witnessed to move, the group remained still. But now, the initial horror was waning. Almost as one, the group broke and fled, fear feeding their flight, removing all vestiges of common sense and judgment.

  * * * * *

  Carissa hid her face behind her hands. How could the ceremony have gone so wrong? The second part of her quest would have been to wait until Pandora blessed the box and sealed it. Then she would have returned it to the secret chamber to remain until the next ceremony was needed. Too late for that now, a voice within mocked.

  But what had been in the box? Carissa saw nothing, not one thing—no dust, no particles, not even a small insect. The sight of the bleached skeleton of her coven leader and mentor lying near the stone dais and the still open box reminded her that something had most definitely been unleashed. The night of the blue moon had turned into a night of horror for Carissa and the followers...and possibly for the entire world if the apparition's curse came to pass.