by Amy Cross
Suddenly it kicks. I take a step back, but I immediately feel another, stronger sensation as if the baby is turning slightly. I can't help letting out a gasp of joy, and finally a sense of absolute relief floods through my body. Wiping tears from my cheeks, I put my hands on my belly and feel a few more kicks, and that's when I start to realize that I have a brand new life growing inside my body, one that has to be protected at all costs. I knew that already, of course, but somehow it feels so much more real now.
“I have to save you,” I whisper, with a rising sense of panic. “I don't know how, but...”
For a moment, I consider turning and running. The nearest town isn't that far and I'd definitely have a chance, but again I feel I can't take such a huge risk with my baby's life. The thought of myself collapsing and freezing to death, and my baby feeling my belly grow cold, is too much to bear. I could try to get to the telephone in the office and call for help, but again there'd be a real danger of Mr. Kane catching me and punishing me, and then the baby would suffer just as much. I could just wait and hope for the best, but if Abigail was telling the truth about Kane having drowned her baby then...
Abigail.
She's my only hope.
Somehow, I have to find a way to do what she asked, and then I have to pray that it'll be enough for her to get rid of Kane. After that I'll still have to work out how to look after my baby, but at least it'll survive and it won't end up either dead or carted off in that black van to the same place all the other babies go. I can't ignore Kane's evil, and I certainly can't go along with it, so for the sake of my baby there's only one option left. The whole idea seems completely ridiculous, but it's the only option that leaves me with any hope at all.
I need to make Kane angry.
There's only one way to do that.
Taking a deep breath, I make my way out of the bathroom and along the corridor. I briefly step into the kitchen and take a knife from one of the trays, and then I head back out. When I get to the stairs, I force myself to head up until I reach the top floor, and then I walk to Kane's office and stop for a moment before reaching out and knocking.
My heart is pounding and my knees feel weak, but I know I have to do this. I only hope Abigail is with me and that I'll be able to give her the chance she needs.
“Enter,” Kane's voice calls out.
“Please God,” I whisper, “just let this work, just let me be -”
Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder again. She's here, and she's letting me know that she's ready to help.
“Enter,” Kane calls out again.
When I open the door, I see Kane sitting at his desk, bathed in the warm, flickering glow of his fireplace.
“Miss Jones,” he says calmly, setting his pen down, “it's rather late. To what do I owe the pleasure of this interruption?”
Stepping inside, I push the door shut and then make my way across the room until I stop next to his desk. I stare into his eyes for a moment, and all I see looking back at me is hatred and vanity, and the face of the man who intends to kill my child. I've been trying to think of the different ways I could break through his calm demeanor, and I've come to the conclusion that there's only one option, and that I simply have to hope and pray that I can get past his defenses by making him angrier than ever before.
“I've come to destroy you,” I say finally, forcing myself to sound calm and confident. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the knife I stole from the kitchen on my way. “I've come to kill you, Jeremiah Kane.”
Part Eleven
IVY JONES
I
Staring at him, I wait for him to respond. To scream at me, maybe, or to rant about the Devil in my soul. After a moment, however, he simply starts laughing.
“I'm not joking,” I say firmly, strengthening my grip on the knife. “You're just a man, you're not immune to harm. All I have to do is drive this blade into your chest and you're done. If you think I'm too weak, you're about to get a big shock.”
“You?” he replies, clearly finding the whole thing very amusing. “Miss Jones, I must thank you. Never before has a girl managed to amuse me so greatly. I shall think of this as some particularly humorous Christmas cheer.”
Storming around his desk, I stop just a few feet from him. I don't expect to actually stab him, of course, but I'm hoping that I can scare him and make him drop his defenses. Abigail said she needs him to lose his control over his emotions so she can hurt him, and I suppose sheer panic might do the job. I can still feel her hand on my shoulder, so I know she's waiting for me to get my part of the job done.
“You couldn't harm me,” he sneers, as he starts unbuttoning his shirt. Finally he pulls the fabric aside to reveal his bare chest. “Do you honestly believe that the Lord would allow an agent of the Devil to strike down a good, honest man such as myself? Why, the Lord would send his most powerful angels to stop you if necessary, but if you wish to test that theory, go ahead and do your worst.” He laughs again, as if this is the funniest thing he'd ever experienced.
“No just or true God would protect a man like you,” I say firmly.
“I have faith,” he replies. “Obviously you don't understand what that's like, but I assure you I have absolute faith in the Lord that he will not only protect me, but that he will also assist me and ensure that I am able to strike you down and drive the Devil from this child's body! He has protected me before, you know.”
“You don't have faith,” I tell him, hoping that maybe I can break his spirit this way too. “Not really. You know deep down that you're just a charlatan and a murderer.”
“I'm waiting,” he continues with a sigh, leaning back in his chair and holding his arms out to the side. “My chest is bare and unprotected. There is nothing to stop you striking with that knife you hold in your trembling hand, Miss Jones, and I welcome you to do your best. Then, perhaps, you will see first-hand that the Lord protects his most faithful servants. Why, he looks down upon us even now and he sees my faith shining bright in my soul.”
Taking a step closer, I raise my right hand and for a moment I imagine driving the blade into his chest. At the same time, I feel Abigail's hand squeezing my shoulder a little more tightly.
“Do it!” Kane sneers. “I order you!”
His eyes are burning with anticipation. He wants this to happen, he sees it as part of some grand test, and my only hope is to somehow make him panic. Even if it only lasts for a fraction of a second, I feel certain that pure panic should be enough to let Abigail do the rest.
“What are you waiting for?” he asks. “There's nothing stopping you.”
I take another step closer and stare at his chest.
“Please work,” I whisper, hoping that Abigail can hear me. I pause for a moment, telling myself that I have to do this for the sake of my baby, and then finally I realize that there's no sense in holding back. Kane thinks I'll back out, that I don't have the guts to make my move, but I'm going to prove him wrong. “Please work,” I pray under my breath, “please, please just -”
I pull my hand back and then I strike down hard, aiming the knife's blade at his heart.
“Get him!” I shout, stopping just before the tip touches his flesh. Squeezing my eyes tight shut, I wait for Abigail to move in and finish him off. “Abigail, do it now!” I yell, my whole body trembling with fear. “He's right here! He's scared! Abigail, you have to do it!”
I wait.
I can still feel her hand on my shoulder, but I don't hear anything to indicate that she's finally attacking Kane.
After a moment, however, I realize I can hear Kane laughing again, except this time he sounds even more amused. Slowly opening my eyes, I see that tears are rolling down his cheeks; he takes a moment to wipe them away as he looks down at the tip of the knife, which is a good half an inch from his chest. There's a part of me that wants to try again, but this time to really stab him. Deep down, however, I know that I could never do that, that I could never kill someone in cold blood. No matter how
much I hate him. I can't murder Kane, not with my baby still inside my belly.
“Abigail?” I whisper, looking around the room once more. “Where are you?”
“Abigail?” Kane replies, still chuckling. “Why are you saying that name, you foolish girl? Why, you don't believe your dead friend Miss Cartwright is in some way going to return and help you, or... Or is that exactly what you're hoping for?”
“Why didn't you do anything?” I ask, taking a step back as I feel panic surging in my chest. “Abigail, I scared him! I made him think I was going to stab him, wasn't that enough?”
“Are you quite finished?” Kane continues, getting to his feet and coming over to me. He takes the knife from my hand and sets it on his desk, and then he turns to me again. “Miss Jones, you have a rather striking capacity to keep surprising me. In some strange way, I actually think that I'm rather impressed. The Devil's tricks become rather fascinating once one no longer fears succumbing. Of all the girls I've dealt with over the years, you are without doubt the most spirited.”
“I'm not the Devil,” I tell him. “If anyone here is pure evil, it's you!”
He smiles. “Now you're just trying to get a rise out of me, Miss Jones, and I'm afraid it's not going to work. Please, go to bed and get some sleep, and tomorrow I shall be leading a small service of remembrance to mark the passing of poor, dear Mrs. Kilmartin. Sykes has gone to town for a few days, so I'm afraid it's really just you, me and the other girls here for Christmas.”
Staring at him, I realize that this isn't working. I couldn't make him angry in the classroom the other day, and I can't make him angry now. Ever so often I see a flicker of emotion in his eyes, but it's clear that he has full control over his reactions to anything I can possibly do. As he walks back to his desk, I start to feel genuinely helpless, and after a moment I look down at my bump.
I'm a failure.
I can't protect my child.
“You're not the first rebellious little girl I've encountered,” Kane tells me as he retakes his seat, “and I doubt you'll be the last. I sensed the Devil in Miss Cartwright before you, and there were plenty of others in the past. There will be more in the future, too. They all denied it, of course, but I knew what was really happening. I chased the Devil from each of their bodies, and mark my words, I will chase him from yours too, even as you deny his presence with every breath you have left. You poor little girls are all the same.” He picks up his pen again. “Now get out of here. You bore me.”
I turn to leave, but my mind is racing and I feel I have to come up with another idea. Staring at Kane, I can't help thinking that nothing I do can shock him, that nothing can shake him from his comfort zone. He thinks he knows how to keep his emotions under control, and maybe he's right. At the same time, slowly, I'm starting to realize that there's one thing I haven't considered yet, one option that maybe no girl has ever considered when they're dealing with a man such as Jeremiah Kane. There's one more thing I can try.
But...
I can't do it, it'd be madness. If I failed...
I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I try to work out whether this plan might work. I doubt anyone has ever given Kane exactly what he wants before, but it might just be enough to shake him up and bring his true emotions spilling out, in which case maybe Abigail could do something. After all, I'm sure every single one of his victims has the past has denied having the Devil in her soul, right to the very end.
Every muscle in my body is telling me to run, but somehow I walk over to his desk instead.
“Miss Jones,” he says with a sigh, “our conversation is at an end.”
Reaching out, I pick up the knife. I honestly don't know if I can go through with this, but I feel as if it's the only chance for getting rid of Kane and saving my baby.
He glances at me and sees the knife in my hand. “Not this again,” he continues. “We both know the Lord will protect me, Miss Jones, and -”
“You were right,” I say suddenly, forcing myself to sound calm and confident despite the absolute fear that's gripping my soul.
He frowns. “I beg your pardon?”
I hesitate, before placing my damaged left hand flat on his desk. The pain in my wrist is intense, but I tell myself that since it's already hurting, I might as well go ahead. Once the pain gets to a certain level, I guess a little more doesn't matter very much.
“You were right,” I continue, and after a moment I realize I can feel a hand squeezing shoulder again. Abigail is still watching, still waiting for me to make Kane lose control of his tightly-wound emotions. “I'm the Devil,” I say finally.
“Miss Jones...”
Before he can finish, I drive the knife into my hand, stabbing myself with such force that I feel the tip of the blade slicing through into the desk beneath. The pain is intense, but somehow I'm able to keep from crying out.
“I'm the Devil, Jeremiah Kane,” I sneer, “and I've come for you!”
II
The impact of his fist jolts my head, sending me crashing back until I slump to the floor. Letting out a gasp as I land on my damaged wrist, I immediately roll onto my back and look up as Kane steps closer. Reaching down, I put my hands on my belly.
“Liar,” Kane sneers, as the light from the fireplace casts strong, constantly-changing shadows across his face. “Do you think that I am so naive, so foolish, that I would believe the Devil might reveal himself so easily? This is just another trick!”
“I know you sense my presence in this girl's weak body,” I reply, sitting up despite the pain in my wrist and hand. I have to find a way to make him believe my lies, but so far he's smarter than I expected. Perhaps a little saner, too. “I think you've known ever since I arrived at this school that there's something different about Ivy Jones. Well, here it is, there's no point pretending any longer.”
I force myself back onto my feet and stare up into his face. I want to run, but instead I force a broad, open-mouthed smile. My hand is throbbing, not only from the stab wound in the center but also from the broken wrist, but somehow the pain is driving me to keep going. Hopefully my confession, if he believes it, will drive him over the edge and allow Abigail to do whatever she's planning.
“I'm the Devil,” I tell him, hoping against hope that I can lie convincingly. “I chose Ivy Jones as my hand in this world, I used her to reach through and strike down good Christian men wherever I saw them, just as I used Abigail Cartwright and other girls before.” I wait, trying to think of something else that might convince him, that might get him to let loose his real anger so that Abigail can strike. The problem is, I don't know how the Devil is supposed to behave in this kind of situation. “I despise men like you,” I continue finally. “I came to Beacon's Ash in this girl's body purely because I wanted to come and destroy you! You've finally annoyed me enough!”
“You're a histrionic child, Ivy Jones,” he replies, turning and heading back to his desk. “Go downstairs and get to bed.”
“You were so sure before,” I add, stepping closer. “You said you could see the Devil in my eyes and sense him in my heart. Yet now, when I reveal myself to you, suddenly you've changed your mind?”
“I will not be drawn into this game,” he sneers, taking a seat. “The Devil is in your soul, Miss Jones, but right now you are merely pretending to let him out. The Devil would never reveal himself and be so honest. Tomorrow at five, we shall have our usual private session and I shall find fresh ways to force a genuine confession. Until then, these parlor games -”
Leaning toward him, I let out the loudest, angriest hiss I can possibly imagine. I still have no idea how to prove to him that I'm possessed, but I tell myself I must simply try to play into his expectations.
“Go back to join the other girls,” Kane mutters, turning to look out at the snowy playground. “You bore me, Ivy Jones.”
Spotting the jar of green powder on his desk, I grab it and tip some into the palm of my hand. Sure enough I feel the same stinging sensation I felt from
the Bible a few days ago so, as Kane continues to explain why he doesn't believe me, I wipe some of the powder over my face before hiding the jar away. I immediately feel my cheeks and mouth burning, but I know I can't show any pain, because pain would tip him off that I'm just pretending. Stepping around his desk, I force myself to smile even though the agony is increasing.
“Miss Jones,” he continues, turning to me, “I must -” He pauses as soon as he sees me, and then he glances toward the desk, as if he's checking to see whether the powder could be responsible. I can only hope that in his bluster and arrogance, he won't be thinking straight.
“You wanted this,” I sneer, grinning like a fool even though I can feel my face starting to blister. “Admit it, Kane. For all your talk of driving the Devil away, you want this confrontation more than anything. I remember what you told me when I was in Abigail Cartwright's body, when you flayed her to death. I only wish her heart had held out for longer, but at least this body is a little stronger.”
“You're trying to fool me,” he stammers.
“You need more proof?” As soon as those words leave my mouth, I know there's only one thing that will do. Holding my left wrist up, I grab hold of it and feel shots of pain burning through the broken bones. Still, I tell myself that a little more pain isn't so bad, so I force myself to keep smiling as I slowly twist my damaged wrist. The pain is indescribable, but I keep going as an expression of shock spreads across Kane's face.
Finally I hear a heavy snapping sound from my wrist, and I feel a burst of pain that's so strong, I almost cry out.
Almost, but not quite.
“See?” I hiss, as the pain builds. “I don't care about this body. It's just a vessel, just another girl I'm passing through and -”
“Be gone!” he screams, pulling a crucifix from his pocket and holding it toward my face. “Leave this place, foul demon!”
Grabbing the crucifix, I pull it from his hands. I know I should do something horrific with it, but I can't think if anything so instead I simply turn and toss it into the burning fireplace before turning back to him.
