Dead Girls

by R. L. Weeks

  He looked into the grave. His eyes reflected the moonlight and flashes from blue and purple lightning streaks. “What about us? Was that nothing to you?”

  I felt foolish, but my truth sparked a micro-expression of compassion. It was slight, but it was there. I continued.

  “I don’t want to die.”

  I didn’t recognize my own voice. It was so… fragile.

  He looked at me conflicted… tortured. He had no idea what to do. I could feel his emotions, like waves beating through my body.

  The feelings were getting stronger by the second. I could sense everything in him. I gripped the earth for energy and pressed my lips together. He was death—an emptiness tangled around a void that couldn’t be filled, a depression that couldn’t be cured, and an anger that couldn’t be satisfied—but in all of it was a slither of humanity, the same humanity he had used to get close to me.

  “Axel,” I pleaded, hoping to reach the humanity in him.

  In that moment, I wasn’t afraid anymore. I waited for him to speak, but he jerked his head to the side. His ears spiked upward, and as fast as he had appeared from the shadows, he took off.

  He was gone. I could no longer feel him. Instead, I felt panic, worry, and sickness. I wiped the beads of sweat off my forehead, then stood.

  “Pierce!” Jackson screamed.

  Hearing her set my heart racing, and a heaviness filled my chest. The fear that cracked her voice made my emotions swirl.

  “Down here!” I shouted back with the little energy I had left.

  Jackson and Tommy appeared at the edge of the grave, looking down. Jackson gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my God. What happened!” she asked, her voice muffled.

  Tommy reached down, offering me his hand. I took it and he pulled me up. Jackson helped. My stomach scraped against the dirt as they lifted me away from the coffin I may have called home.

  I attempted to get my breath back. The rain slowed, pattering down pathetically. Jackson looked as pale as a ghost. They were both soaking wet and had twigs and leaves sticking out from their hair.

  “We need to go back to the mansion.” Tommy approached and took my arm in his. I hadn’t realized how unsteady I felt until I had him for balance. He looked me over for wounds.

  “It was Axel,” I said in disbelief still.

  Tommy nodded knowingly and looked back at the grave. “He was planning on burying you here, under the harvest moon.”

  I shuddered. “Why?” I cried. “How did you know? Plus, he could have killed me anytime. Why tonight?” I shook my head. “It doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

  I thought back to Axel’s confliction as he’d stood over the grave, when I was easy prey. He hadn’t instantly jumped down and killed me. He’d looked torn.

  We all turned as we heard the same whoosh behind us in the trees. I froze, and Jackson halted.

  Tommy stepped forward, letting us go, and extended his arms in front of us. “There’s all sorts in these woods,” he warned in a whisper. “I’m going to get you both home where you can stay for now, then I’ll go and find Axel.”

  “No.” Jackson pleaded with him. “Don’t go after him. He’s dangerous. We should tell the police.”

  Tommy scoffed. “They can’t fight his kind.”

  “His kind?” I asked, recalling the inhuman appearance Axel had conveyed.

  Jackson swallowed hard. “Please, no,” she pleaded. “You could get killed.”

  “I can look after myself,” he said sternly, although he looked a little moved by Jackson’s concern. His voice softened. “I’ll be okay. Please, you need to trust me.” He looked around into the darkness. “Let’s get back before any more excitement happens.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Pierce

  I wrung my hair out, then towel-dried myself. I was shivering, and so was Jackson. Tommy was downstairs waiting for us, talking to Grandma who had taken a liking to him. I guess she wasn’t completely batshit crazy for hating on Axel. Perhaps she had sensed his inner psychopath before anyone else.

  I took the towel from Jackson and helped dry her hair. I took the towel off and ran my fingers through her hair toward her temples and massaged them. It always helped her when she was stressed.

  “You haven’t done that in ages. I miss it.”

  I almost smiled. “I know.”

  She rested her neck back farther and closed her eyes. “I can’t believe I almost lost you tonight.” She paused for a moment. “I don’t know what I would have done…” Her voice broke at the end. Tears forced themselves out of her closed eyelids.

  I released her head, then walked out in front of her. “Don’t think that!” I ordered, feeling like myself again for the first time in weeks. “I don’t know what craziness is happening in this strange world we have somehow fallen into, but please know that I won’t leave you. Ever.”

  I sounded convincing enough, but it didn’t take away her tears. “A serial killer, Pierce! Now Tommy wants to go back out there.”

  She burst into tears. I stepped back, a little shocked. She howled into the palm of her hands. I grabbed some toilet paper and handed it to her. She took it, wiped her tears, and blew her nose.

  “Don’t cry.”

  Her pretty olive skin turned red and blotchy. “I can’t help it,” she stuttered. “You almost died.”

  I rubbed her shoulder and pursed my lips. “I know.”

  I had nothing else to offer. Instead, I simply stood with her and absorbed the waves of sorrow and terror emanating from her body as she cried. My sister was a mess. It was everything: Mom and Dad, her new lifestyle, my behavior, and the serial killer. I didn’t know how she had managed to cope so well. I admired her resilience.

  “Let’s go get a cocoa and get back downstairs to Tommy,” I said softly. Tommy had grown on me dramatically. Although, like Jackson, I didn’t want him going after Axel for many reasons… I didn’t want him or Axel to end up dead.

  I was insane to even think it, but the flash of emotion from Axel had told me he wouldn’t have killed me regardless of if Tommy and Jackson had found us. I needed to find out more. The side of him I had got to know was beautiful, high-spirited, and honest. It couldn’t have been for show.

  Then there was how he looked. He’d looked almost vampiric, but that was impossible. Vampires didn’t exist. Although, I had believed magic, ghosts, witches, and other monsters didn’t exist until recently, but monsters did exist, and we were surrounded by them. Hell, I was beginning to think I was one of them.

  A curiosity lingered in my mind. If I was a monster then Jackson must be too. We were sisters, so whatever lineage I, she would too. Along with that, either Mom or Dad must have had those abilities too and had perhaps repressed them. That did seem likely considering their personalities.

  We walked downstairs, winding down the staircase and over creaking steps, until we reached the main living room: a dusty, old-fashioned blue room with long white drapes that had turned yellow over time, and a chandelier that creaked when it moved. Grandma and Tommy’s conversation traveled out the door as we walked inside.

  “He’s one of the forgotten ones.”

  Tommy nodded, then looked up at Jackson and me. They both stopped talking.

  “No, keep talking. Who’s one of the forgotten ones?”

  Tommy hesitated, but Grandma was the first to answer. “You have the key. You have all the information at your fingertips.”

  I leaned back, feeling for the key, but it was gone. My heart leapt. “It’s gone! I must’ve dropped it.”

  “Where?!” Grandma’s voice was not stern or angry but fear-laced.

  “Maybe in the woods or upstairs,” I said, thinking of the chores I’d done this morning.

  “Go. Find it. Now!” she barked at all three of us. “And you better pray, child, that something else doesn’t find it before you do.”

  I didn’t have time to stand around and question her last comment, I tucked it away for later and ran afte
r Jackson and Tommy to the upstairs bathroom and bedroom.

  We scanned the steps as we walked, hoping it had maybe fallen out of my pocket on the way up, but it wasn’t there.

  “Oh, my! I remember running to the other kitchen earlier, the one in the east wing because we ran out of cocoa in the main kitchen. Maybe it dropped out when I was running?”

  “You better hope so!” Jackson said. “Grandma seemed pissed that you lost it.”

  My stomach knotted. “I’m going to go look. You guys keep searching upstairs, my room, and the bathroom.”

  I needed to find it. Grandma had warned me about losing it. I wondered if there really was something after the key. I wouldn’t dismiss the theory like when I’d lost it before, seeing what I’ve seen now. I made my way to the east wing.

  I dragged my fingers along the wall as I walked. It was getting darker and darker. I had run through the east wing when we had come home, to make the cocoa. It must have dropped out here, but I couldn’t see anything.

  “Why aren’t there any lights!” I cursed under my breath and continued to walk. I could barely make out the shadowy edges of the doors or the pictures hanging on the walls.

  When I breathed out of my mouth, a cloud of fog left. It was colder here than it was outside. I reached the corridor I had run down earlier and searched around for a light switch.

  “Bingo!”

  I flicked the switch, and the light above my head clicked on, flickered, then clicked off again.

  “Fuck!”

  It flickered again, and in the momentary flash of light, I saw a glance of the black key against the floor. “Yes!” I squeaked as the light flickered off again.

  I dropped to my knees and felt around the dark ground. My fingertips slid against the cold wood.

  An icy wind slid along my skin before I could reach the key, making me shiver. I heard breathing close to me, but I couldn’t see a thing. “Jackie?” I called. “Tommy?”

  No answer came.

  The breathing got louder. Somewhere ahead of me, a floorboard creaked. A lump formed in my throat. “Hello?”

  The heat left in me deserted my body. The awareness I was not alone made my skin crawl. Desperately, as Grandma’s words floated around me in a mimicked voice, “You better pray something else doesn’t find the key before you,” I reached out hoping for the light to flicker on again.

  I closed my eyes and focused on touch. I reached around one final time, and my finger came into contact with the cold metal.

  I breathed my sigh of relief too soon. What had been just a chill in the air, a breath in the distance, a mistakenly heard creak, materialized into something real. The light flickered, and my heart skipped a beat. I was not prepared for what was staring into my eyes, mere inches from my face. A pair of eyes, devoid of all color but black, gazed into my soul. The skin around its sockets was no longer in touch with the bone below. Its lips were blue, and black hair hung around its face like a pair of curtains. It was still. If it weren’t for the slight twitch at the corner of its eye and the flare in its nostrils, it could have been mistaken for a Halloween decoration.

  I gripped the key with all the strength I had. The scream I should have let out was frozen at the back of my throat. Instead of moving, I stared back into its lifeless face. I presumed it used to be a woman. The long hair and wet white dress she had on told me that.

  I jolted as the ghost woman suddenly looked up with an action that was too fast to be human. Behind me, I heard rattling breaths and long, drawn-out footsteps.

  My heart was pounding.

  Now is the time to scream, Pierce.

  My body didn’t listen to my thoughts. Instead, I remained frozen to the spot—easy pickings. I was useless in the face of danger.

  “Keyyyy…” the thing behind me said. It sounded like she was underwater.

  I turned to look.

  The drowned-looking woman behind me jerked her head all the way back, making me finally jump out of my frozen position and to my feet.

  Without glancing back, I took off down the corridor.

  A high-pitched scream followed me, lights flickered above my head, and door handles shook as I ran past them. “Help!” I finally managed to shout as the footsteps behind me quickened. They—or she—was getting closer.

  Vera appeared in the doorway in front me and a welcomed light slid into the corridor, banishing the ghosts back.

  Sweat dripped from my forehead to my eyebrows. I handed the key to Vera breathlessly.

  She smirked. “Did you have a scare?”

  “How could you tell?”

  She didn’t answer my question. “I told you not to leave the key lying around or lose it. There is more than one thing in this house that would kill to get their hands on the key.”

  I shuddered and looked back. Nothing but an empty corridor greeted me. “What—who were they?”

  “Evil.”

  I placed my hand over my chest and felt my heartbeat, which was frantically beating against my chest.

  “Get your sister and come to the room with the black door,” she said and walked down the hallway tapping her cane back and forth.

  I watched after her wide-eyed. Didn’t she know what was lurking down there, or did she simply not care?

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jackson

  Pierce was acting strange again, mumbling about ghosts in the halls. At least she’d found the key. Now we could get to the bottom to whatever was going on.

  The room behind the black door was colder than the rest of the house. Tommy had the fire going in the Georgian-style fireplace at the back of the room.

  My hand ran through a cobweb as I walked to the worn, leather sofa. I shook my hand and shuddered away from the area.

  I checked the sofa for spiders before plonking myself down.

  Pierce was searching through books while Vera and Tommy placed more on top of the table.

  The crackling from the fire calmed my nerves. I had no clue what was going on. All recent events were clouded and odd. Nothing made sense anymore, not even Tommy who I’d grown to really care for.

  I hadn’t said the words yet—I love you—but I think he knew. I was saving them for something special. At this rate, probably a deathbed good-bye or as we are fighting a banshee. The last thought made me chuckle.

  Tommy looked over and raised an eyebrow at me. I just smiled, then looked back at the fire.

  “Here!” Pierce shouted, making me jolt.

  My eyes widened. “Jeez.”

  She had a book open somewhere in the middle. Above the writing were two symbols, some sort of flowers inside black circles.

  “What is the Black Lily Coven?” I questioned.

  Pierce dragged her index finger down the page. I pushed in to read it myself.

  The Black Lily Coven is one of the largest covens in America. It was created after the Black Rose Coven gave in to the darkness. Each new witch or warlock was put to a test where they must embrace the darkness so they could follow the light—your healers, seers, psychics, and helpers to humanity. Witches were shown in a positive light and beloved until the Black Rose Coven’s leader became lusted by the powers he had grown to love. Tempted by the darkness, he made a deal where he could have powers beyond the light, beyond using nature to help ungrateful people. Lucifer gave him—and all those in his coven—powers. The only thing asked in return was to break Lucifer free from the Underworld. To do that, they needed to break seals with the help of Lucifer’s demons and other creatures at his bidding: wendigos and werewolves. After the Black Rose Coven tried breaking the seals—most of them involving murder—witchcraft was seen in a negative light. The Black Lily Coven was created to stop the Black Rose Coven.

  “This is insane.” I laughed. “Covens? Witches? I mean come on. We can’t be witches.”

  “We’re not,” Vera said sharply.

  I furrowed my eyebrows. “Okay, so we’re not witches, like I said…”

  “She is,” Vera said nonch
alantly and nodded toward the place where Pierce sat.

  I felt myself growing more and more aggravated. What did she mean, “she is”? For one, witches? Pfft. For two, if it were true, then how could Pierce be a witch and not me? We’re sisters!

  “Seriously, can someone start making some sense,” I said.

  “Shh, a minute.” Pierce hushed me.

  Not even Tommy came to my defense. He looked at the books with wild eyes. I walked back to the sofa, sat, crossed my legs, and huffed.

  “The girls killed in the 1930s during the depression were killed in the same way.” Pierce’s voice carried to me. Curiosity got the better of my bad mood. I stood again, then walked to the books. I took a seat at the oak table, which was covered with papers and books, and rested my elbow on the table and my head on my fist. “So there was a serial killer then too? Ridgeview is creepy,” I said.

  Everyone ignored me.

  Tommy looked at Vera knowingly even though she couldn’t see him. “Do you think it could have been Axel then too?”

  Vera raised her finger to her chin. “He did smell familiar.”

  A deep wrinkle formed between by eyebrows. “Smell familiar? What…” I was clearly missing something. I hated being left in the dark.

  “He’s a vampire,” Tommy said all matter-of-factly, and no one reacted as if he didn’t just say the most ridiculous thing ever.

  I scoffed a laugh. “Excuse me?”

  I looked at Pierce for a sense of reality. I shot her a “are you listening to this crazy too?” look, but she didn’t laugh, scoff, or raise her brows in a “right?” kind of way. Instead, she looked at the floor. “It makes sense now.”

  I groaned. “Not you too.”

  “He’s right!” she said, her voice shrill. She placed her hand on her hip. “You should have seen him, Jackie. Axel’s eyes were black with red rings. His skin looked like chalky, and when I looked at him, I felt…” She paused, I guessed for effect. “Death.”

  I rolled my eyes at the three of them. “You’re all insane.” I nodded at myself and screeched my chair back. “I’m going to call the police, something we should have done to begin with because we now know who the serial killer is. So, while you all stay down here acting out a fairy tale, I’ll be upstairs fixing the real-life mess.”