Harbinger Island

by Dorian Dawes

"Gosh," he whispered softly.

  "You did great," she said.

  They made their way down the ladder, noticing that the heaviness in the atmosphere had been lifted. Gloria sat in the middle of the hall, kneeling before a candle. This one had an image of the crucifixion painted on the front. She looked up at them, face flushed and full of relief. She made the sign of the cross on herself and blew out the candle.

  Without warning, Gloria hobbled close and enveloped them in a hug. "You did it."

  "Is it over?" Dayabir asked warily.

  Gloria looked around her, noticing how the room had lightened considerably. "I should hope so. Good work, the both of you."

  "You saved us," Helena said. "We'd be dead without you. Thank you."

  "I didn't save anyone," Gloria argued. "There's no such thing in this line of work. You work together to keep each other alive. At least, that's how it should be."

  They left the house, relieved to have it behind them even as the air had been cleansed of the previous malice. Dayabir paused for a second on the veranda as a thought struck him. He wandered around to the back of the house to the cellar doors. He could see flakes of blood around the edges of the handle where someone with bloodied hands had slammed them shut.

  Helena came from behind him and followed his gaze. "Jeffrey."

  Dayabir buried his head into her shoulder. "Not again."

  Gloria walked in front of them. She closed her eyes and knelt in front of the doors. She laid a palm flat against the handle with the blood and whispered a quick incantation under her breath. Dayabir thought she'd never looked so tired. Another life lost to the darkness of Harbinger Island.

  "There's no need for either of you to go down there," Gloria said. "You don't need to see that. Not after what you've been through today. I'll call the police and have them deal with the bodies."

  "Any idea what you're gonna tell them?" Helena asked, eyes narrowed.

  "I'm a 65-year-old woman who's been a long-time respected member of this awful community, that's worth something." Gloria shrugged. "Call your friend, Helena. Tell her the monsters have been defeated. Small comforts like this are all we're afforded in this business."

  Helena nodded. "I'm glad I met you … both of you."

  Dayabir smiled warmly. "Same. Stop by the Historical Society sometime. We can solve more mysteries together."

  Helena shook her head. "No more mysteries for a while for me, thanks, but let's hang out sometime. Maybe I'll help you with the magic schtick."

  Dayabir waved farewell. He stared at his own hands as she left, the memory of magic surging through them still fresh in his mind. A lingering sensation of doubt crept in as he wondered whether or not he'd be able to perform the same spells again, or if it'd all been a fluke, another of the island's strange phenomena manifesting itself.

  * * *

  Back at Kara's dorm, she and Veronika sat on her bed, analyzing the photos taken at Blackerly House. Kara was particularly interested in the shadowy figure that could be seen hovering behind her in the group shot. Something about the face on the figure haunted her.

  Her phone had been tossed haphazardly onto the desk. The vibrations from the constant buzzing of urgent calls and texts were enough to make the thing slide and rattle as if possessed. Kara gave it only a passing glance, her attention far too caught up in the photo on the screen.

  She backed away after a minute of digitally messing with the contrast and lighting. The semi-translucent face became just clear enough to horrify. Kara's mouth hung open.

  "Fuck …" She nearly choked on the word.

  Veronika gave her a concerned look. "What is it?"

  The phone had gotten caught against the metallic container of pencils so when it next vibrated, it made a shrill, almost shrieking noise. Kara flipped out, rushing to her desk and grabbing it and powering the whole thing off. She took brief notice of the name on the last several texts and voicemails before the screen flickered to darkness. Helena. Helena could fucking wait.

  In the top desk drawer was a picture Kara had of her parents, the only photo she'd seen of her mother. She passed it to Veronika. Her arms and voice shook.

  "The face in those pictures …" Kara whispered. "Dad never liked talking about Mom."

  "You gonna ask him?"

  "I don't wanna. We don't talk much."

  "Why not?"

  "We had some … disagreements when I came out the closet, and he's a fucking drunk and I don't like dealing with it." Kara placed the picture on the desk and slumped onto the bed, lying with her arms sprawled on either side of her. "I need to talk to him. I think it's gonna kill me if I don't know what happened."

  Veronika nodded. "I need to talk to my mom about some stuff too. But hey, please call me later this evening. As far as first dates go, this is probably the most interesting one I've ever had."

  Kara chortled. "You'd call this a date?"

  Veronika rolled over and wrapped her arm around her chest. Kara could feel her breath hot on her lips. Such soft lips and softer hands, she thought. She almost didn't want to close her eyes.

  "You're a lot of fun, Kara, and you seem like someone I can open up to." Veronika's voice dropped to a sultry whisper. "Maybe someday I'll tell you all my secrets."

  "Just fucking kiss me already."

  They wrapped their arms around each other and their lips touched. Kara felt almost something bitter on Veronika's tongue. It was the strangest kiss she'd ever received; shared pain and rage boiling into a second of intimacy. The kiss was brief, and Veronika pulled away before Kara was ready. She gave an awkward farewell, and then was gone.

  Kara grabbed her phone and powered it back on. Helena's ignored texts were swiped off the screen. She then had to try and remember if she had even bothered saving her dad's number into this phone.

  A few minutes later and she prepared for the most awkward reunion of her life.

  "Dad, it's me …" she said slowly. "I know about Mom. I'm coming over. All right, I'll see you then."

  * * *

  Evan Kiernan, Kara's father, lived in an RV south of Wakefield. It was about a forty-five minute drive from campus, so Kara had a lot to think about. She finally looked at Helena's texts while waiting at a red light.

  "WE GOT RID OF THE SPIRIT. RICK AND JEFFREY DIDN'T MAKE IT."

  Kara managed to text back. "R U ALL RIGHT?"

  "HAD A CLOSE CALL BUT GLORIA AND DAYABIR PULLED THROUGH. YOU?"

  "BLEH."

  "IM SORRY."

  "GONNA GO SEE DAD. FOUND OUT MOM WAS PART OF THE KIDNAPPING."

  "WANT ME TO COME OVER?"

  "RATHER U DIDNT."

  No reply. Kara threw the phone into the cup-holder in her truck. The rest of the trip was made in silence.

  Sitting on the front steps of the trailer was the saddest sight she'd ever seen: her father. Evan had spent so much of his life shaming her for her weight and now all the beer and pizza had caught up with him, as he now sported an unattractive gut barely concealed by the stained and frayed wife beater. Shaving was something he clearly barely considered, as his face was now obscured by a spotty salt and pepper neck-beard. Saddest of all was his dead-eyed stare, like someone had snuffed the lights out years ago. It was hard to believe this was the same man, finely dressed and laughing happily in the photo she kept in her desk.

  This was going to be awkward.

  "Hey Dad," she said, climbing out the car, slamming the door behind her.

  He stood. "Wanna come inside?"

  "Sure. Got anything to drink?"

  "Just beer."

  "Figures," she sighed. "Fine. I'll take one."

  Scattered pizza boxes and empty beer cans littered the living room floor. Cups used as makeshift ash trays were strewn across the kitchen. Through the hallway, she could see into his bedroom, where piles upon piles of dirty clothes had been stacked and left on top the bed. There were a few trash bags on the floor near the kitchen, all tied up and ready to go. He'd tried to clean up at least a little bit bef
ore she arrived. He looked apologetically at her as she surveyed the mess.

  Kara didn't care about messes. He brought her a beer from the kitchen and allowed himself one, no longer feeling the need to stay sober for his daughter. They sat together on the couch where he must have been sleeping, the closest thing to clean in the entire trailer. She took a long gulp, choking down the bitter taste. It was like misery and death.

  They sat there in silence for a solid minute. When she spoke, it wasn't until she could purge her voice of emotion. "Mom's the one who kidnapped me, wasn't she? She hurt me."

  He took a long, long swig from the bottle. "So you remember. I'm sorry. Yeah, it was your mother, Eileen. She had her little cult of moms all eating out of her hand."

  "You knew?" Kara stared at him, bile rising in her throat. "You knew and you said nothing?"

  "We didn't know where they'd taken you, only that they had taken you."

  Kara turned away from him, mouth hanging open in disgust.

  "What was the fucking point?"

  "I don't know," he said. "I got so scared. I'd catch her stealing into your room at night and digging the sharp edge of her thumbnail into your forehead while whispering something under her breath. When I asked her about it, she laughed at me. Threatened to take you away. I was … I was scared of her, but more scared I might lose you."

  "Oh fucking stuff it, you hypocritical shit-head," Kara snapped.

  "Excuse me?"

  "Fatso, piggy pig, thunder-thighs …" She smirked to herself. "There's only so many times a girl can get called ugly before she takes the fucking hint. Then there's all the other lovely words you had for me when you found out I'm gay, so please, don't pretend like we had a lovely fucking relationship you were trying to preserve. What Mom did to me was fucking evil, but you had a part to play in making me the damaged little shit I am today."

  "Ungrateful whore, I should have drowned you."

  It was her father's voice, but different - sweet, lilting, effeminate. Kara slowly turned to face him, to see his eyes wide and shining and staring at her with a deceptively warm smile. All trace of his tears had vanished. This was not her father.

  "What?"

  "If you wanted to know what we had planned for you," he said, his voice like ichor, "you should have asked."

  Kara reacted by smashing the bottle against the coffee table and leaping to her feet, turning the jagged broken edge on him in defense.

  "What the fuck? Who are you?"

  His eyes became like dark black pools. The liquid drained from them into oily tears, and more of the same substance could be seen leaking from his ears. His fingers stretched and elongated into unnatural shapes as he stood, cracking the bones in his neck.

  "I'm hurt that you don't recognize your own mother."

  "You have got to be fucking kidding me!" Kara yelled, both in rage and terror.

  "Watch that language, young lady. Oh, how long has it been? Fifteen, sixteen years? Time flies when you're dead."

  "What did you do to him? Where's Dad?"

  "He's in here somewhere, the slob." Eileen couldn't disguise the disgust in her voice. "Oh, darling. You never did lose that baby fat. Really, it's not healthy."

  "Are you fucking shitting me?" Kara screamed. "You came back from the dead just to body-shame me?"

  Eileen ignored her. Her movements were twitchy, fast-moving, unnatural little things that reminded Kara too much of a Czech stop-motion animation she'd seen as a kid. She could see her mother struggling with this body, could hear the bones cracking as wrists made movements they weren't meant to. Kara thought she'd throw up.

  "I put in a few safeguards while I was still chained to your useless father. If anything happened to me, my consciousness would pop right in here and take command. Not the most stylish of vehicles, but it'll do."

  Kara began walking backwards, making her way towards the door.

  "But it didn't work. You were gone. You stayed gone."

  "I made a mistake! Big deal! Turns out all the negative energy I'd poured into that experiment would tie me to both it and the whirling vortex of evil necessary to power the final work. Looks like all it took was someone to flip the necessary switches and snap! I'm outta there!"

  Kara had her back against the door. Just a few more sweaty seconds and she could get the fuck out of this nightmare. Whatever her mother had become, it scared Kara shitless, and there wasn't much in this world that could do that.

  "What are you gonna do now?" Kara asked.

  Eileen opened her mouth and let out a musical giggle. It had all the grace and rhythm of tinkling chimes, but carried with it the resonance of thunder.

  "Going to pick up where I left off. Come to Mommy."

  More fingers snapped as Eileen cracked out a spell. Kara was snatched off her feet and sent hurtling back into the living room. She hovered inches off the ground, paralyzed. Eileen lifted off the ground to meet her and stroke the sides of her cheeks with bent, broken fingers.

  "Don't worry darling," Eileen cooed in her ear. "Mommy's gonna make it all better. You won't be afraid ever again. We can even help you lose weight. You'll be such a pretty girl."

  Kara gritted her teeth, struggling against her mother's power. She found the will to curl her fingers into a tight fist. Her determined grimace turned into a grin as she was able to snap just enough out of Eileen's hold to be able to draw her arm back, ready to punch.

  "I'm already a pretty girl," Kara growled.

  Fist met jaw. Eileen's head snapped back and spun around several times like a damned cartoon. She topped backwards shattering the glass coffee table. Kara caught herself as she fell to the ground. Eileen didn't have a chance to pick herself up before Kara was on her again, snatching her by the throat and lifting her off the feet with a supernatural burst of strength.

  "I get to punch Dad's stupid face and yours all in one go. This is fucking perfect," Kara yelled, and delivered a second blow.

  Eileen was sent careening into the kitchen. Her chin smacked against the counter, shattering several beer bottles and many more bones. Eileen found herself scarcely able to stand, let alone cast a spell. She looked up at her approaching daughter, and for the first time realized she'd made a terrible mistake.

  Eileen whined, her voice growing hollow and strange as she felt her control. Her control on Evan's body seemed to be slipping. "Please, Kara. Mommy loves you! I just want to make you stronger."

  "I'm already pretty strong. Proud yet?" Kara said grabbing Eileen by the collar and dragging her to her feet.

  She dragged the bloody, broken body to the fridge and kicked it open with her boot. She kept one hand on the door, and the other keeping her mother's skull positioned directly between them. They stood there like that for several seconds, the only sounds those of Eileen's terrified whimpering and Kara's heavy breaths.

  "Is there a fucking chance Dad's still in there?" Kara said.

  "Not in hell," Eileen whimpered. "He never loved you anyway. Not like I did. You know that."

  "The shit you've done to me." Kara's voice trembled. "You're some right fucking pieces of work. Both of you."

  Slam went the refrigerator door, then again, and again, and again. Each slam came with a sickening crack and the head became a little less recognizable until it appeared as nothing more than a soggy tangerine on top of a withered husk of a body. Kara slammed the door one last time and collapsed to her knees, clasping her bloodied hands over her face. She finally found it within her to scream.

  She passed the next thirty minutes on the floor with her hands and arms wrapped around her head. She pulled herself to her feet and staggered to the door. She sat on the steps of the trailer, thankful at least that her dad lived out in bum-fuck nowhere, far away from any neighbors or passersby. She'd just murdered both of her parents, and she was pretty certain she was going to get away with it.

  Momentary panic set in as headlights came into view, pulling up through the trees. Kara stood, clenching her fists. She was too tired to
run. She was standing outside drenched in the evidence of death, and everyone would know what had happened. She'd cry if she had any more tears left.

  Fucking idiot. The car was Helena's. Why she'd bothered to come out here, Kara couldn't guess, but she also didn't care. She ran to her, still sobbing, and Helena pulled her into a hug, not caring about the blood.

  Kara cried into her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

  "It's all right. It's all right. What's going on? You look like shit."

  Kara relayed the entire story in its entire gory detail, leaving out nothing. She finished with a bitter chuckle.

  Helena placed a weary hand on top of her own head.

  "Fuck …"

  "Could you do me one last favor?" Kara asked.

  "Anything."

  "Can we set the murder scene on fire?"

  Helena nodded. She conjured a fireball in her palm. She held it out to Kara.

  "Touch it. Anyone can throw them. It doesn't start burning until it's released."

  Kara hesitantly took the glowing ember ball into her hands, marveling at the way it tickled her fingers.

  "It feels weird, but in a good way."

  "That's how a lot of magic works," Helena said. "Now pull back, and throw."

  Kara nodded. She hurled the ball of fire towards the window by the kitchen. It smashed through the glass, and a moment later she watched the whole thing erupt into flames. She laughed while crying as that awful place burned to the fucking ground.

  * * *

  Veronika had often visited her mom's house just to check in on her and see how she was doing, and to actually eat a home-cooked meal. She'd never shown up like this though, late at night when most folk were busy sleeping. Everything had come back to her. The most vivid memory was of her mother's hands wrapped tightly about her throat.

  Janessa always thought she'd been a good mother to her daughter, had done the best for her. They'd had disagreements on her sexuality in the recent past, but she always thought she was fairly tolerant of Veronika's lifestyle choices. Their most heated argument had come about when she let slip that if Veronika ever married a woman, she'd likely not attend the wedding otherwise it'd compromise her belief system. It didn't mean she loved her daughter any less, did it? Janessa didn't think so. She always wanted the best for her.