by David Gallie
‘They lied to me. They told me they were part of a group trying to help me and instead their nothing more than wanted criminals,’ I moan and I hate the sound of my own voice it only makes me feel more depressed and tired.
‘Just because their wanted criminals doesn’t mean they aren’t what they say they are Lynk,’ Jerub chimes in now, his expression unmoving, almost unkind in the dim light of the early morning.
‘Yeah, although I’m pretty sure that Steven guy has a thing for you. He better not get a date before I do,’ says Artemis and he looks serious.
Despite that, I feel my cheeks flush red again. I’ve never known what it’s like to be the object of someone’s desire.
‘Behave!’ Snaps Jerub, readying his hand to give Artemis another head slap.
‘What, I’m just telling it as I see it,’ shrugs Artemis and he winks at me.
The wink earns him a head slap from Jerub.
‘I said Behave. You already know no one can have a date with the guardian. The rules forbid it,’ states Jerub taking no pity on his companion.
‘Geez, alright, stop with the head slaps. Stupid rules. We have a gorgeous girl to keep company and we can’t date her, that is so unfair,’ moans Artemis.
I feel a little flattered that even Jerub is showing interest in me without saying it outright. But as he said himself, the guardian apparently has to be a lonely soul to do her job.
‘So, what’s your plan hot stuff?’ Asks Artemis after he’s finished rubbing his head and I wonder how a spirit can feel pain. He must be faking it I think.
‘Well, the key isn’t the altar although that is still part of the final ritual. The real key is Ezikal’s wife, or at least whatever is left of her,’ I say, turning my attention to the dirt track across the road.
I know it leads to the farmhouse but I feel unsure if I am making the right decision returning to the building. But something inside me tells me that is where I need to look.
‘Eww, that’s going to be nasty. Do you think she will have any meat left on her bones after all this time?’ Artemis grimaces at the thought of the dead woman and I find myself doing the same without realizing it.
‘Seriously?’ Asks Jerub turning to the hell soul.
‘What?’
‘They might not need the whole body to perform the ritual. All they might need is a bone or a tooth, you should know that’ I can see the look of frustration on Jerub’s face as if he’s the only kid in class to be paired with the idiot.
‘I did know that. I was just testing you,’ says Artemis looking hurt.
Jerub simply shakes his head and returns his gaze to me.
‘Do you think the key is still in the farmhouse?’ Asks Jerub.
‘Well if the dream was anything to go by, I have a feeling that there has to be something important in it somewhere. It doesn’t look like it’s changed since then.’
‘We would suggest that you wait for your friends but since we know that you won’t, we better accompany you,’ I’m already moving as the words leave Jerub’s mouth.
There is no traffic yet since it’s still very early in the morning. I break free from the trees, twigs, and dried leaves crunching under my feet, and run as fast as I can for the dirt track.
My breath comes in short, sharp and sometimes painful gasps as I make it across the road and continue up the slope of the track until I can take the sharp right into the open area which would have been the front garden of the farmhouse.
Death, Artemis, and Jerub are already on the porch by the time I get there. I curse not having the ability to fly like they can, but I remind myself that Death said I had more abilities in the pipeline. Maybe that would be one of them.
‘You look even better when you’re hot and sweaty,’ Artemis jokes. I pay him no attention as he receives yet another head slap from his good brother.
‘Are you sure you want to do this on your own,’ asks Death and I detect a hint of caution in his voice.
It’s obvious they know more than I do, but per the rules of the game, I have to learn to trust my own instincts.
I reach the front door as the sound of a car engine, revving to climb the dirt track, comes in the distance. Panic rising in my gut, I quickly open the door and slip inside without slamming it.
A musky odor lingers in the air. I hadn’t noticed it before, but I could definitely smell it now. My heart skips a beat as I plant myself near the front window and glance out at the garden.
A large, annoyed looking man climbs out of a burgundy colored car. He’s wearing the pants and shirt that I recognize from the asylum and when he turns round so I can get a proper look at his face I feel my jaw drop when I see it’s Roland.
Somehow, he’s found me.
CHAPTER 20
I keep my body planted against the wall, shallow breathing so I make as little noise as possible. I can hear Roland approach the house but he doesn’t step foot on the porch.
My breath catches in the back of my throat as his shadow falls on the bare floorboards of the living room. He’s looking through the dusty windows, searching for something. I think he’s searching for me.
‘Where are you, you little psycho?’ He complains to himself.
When I glance to my right I can see Death is lingering out in the hallway, pointing upwards to the top floor. Artemis and Jerub have done another vanishing act.
Turning back to the window I can see Roland’s shadow disappear as he heads to the far side of the house, probably looking for a back door. Seizing my chance, I run to the hallway and take the stairs. I reach the top landing as the back door opens and shuts with a thud.
My heart feels like it’s trying to tear its way out of my chest as I dive into the small room. I instantly recognize the fireplace and even the bed as being exactly the same from my visions and dreams.
Footsteps resonate downstairs. Roland is searching for me. I hear him rattling his keys together. It’s like he’s trying to make me aware of his presence, or maybe it’s his way of trying to scare me.
I don’t know and I don’t care.
I came back to the house to find what I needed to stop the shadows and I will find it.
‘I got a call from Old Bart. He tells me your good at escaping a prison cell, but I told him you would never be able to escape from your room in the dungeon, isn’t that right princess,’ shouts Roland.
His footsteps, heavy and deliberate, are now coming from the living room or whatever it might have been back in Ezikal’s day. I wonder why he’s trying to scare me so much. Why did he hate me so much to want to torment me endlessly? I think I will probably never know and set about looking for anything in the small room that might be useful.
The fireplace has long been cleaned out leaving nothing but dust behind. Even the metal fire guard which had been present in my visions was gone, probably pilfered by vandals or the likes.
I keep my ear on Roland’s footsteps, listening for him getting closer, as I check the bed. The mattress was a recent edition, probably by the last owner, but the bed frame looks exactly like the one I had been laid down on.
I find nothing special about the frame. No secret nooks or insets that might hide something I could use to stop the shadows from escaping hell. Then a thought occurs to me to look under the bed.
There is nothing there except dust bunnies, but what I do notice is a small piece of the floor board is sitting up like it’s been warped with time. It looks odd and I lay down on my stomach so I can try and leverage it upwards.
The floorboard gives way easier than I thought it would, leaving behind a small square. I’m not sure what to expect as I reach into the hole and my fingers touch something else that’s wooden and ornate.
Once I have a good enough grip on it, I pull the box up and out of its hiding place. Downstairs I can hear Roland patrolling the kitchen now. Certain it’s not going to take much longer for him to head in my direction, I hurriedly bring the box to my face where I can see it better.
It�
�s beautiful. Varnished with deep oak I can see engravings of children playing in a field. The way they are laid out around the box makes them look like their dancing to some ancient tune that only they can hear. I let my fingers feel the curves and impressions of each hand carved character before flipping the box open.
It’s lined with a purple, velvety kind of material, and inside lays a single small tooth. It’s an adults tooth and not a child’s, but I feel certain as I pluck it out that it belongs to Ezikal’s wife.
I have found the key.
Then I scream as Roland’s large hand grips my ankle and haul me out from under the bed.
‘I had a feeling I would find you here,’ says the big nurse.
He towers over me as I stare up at him with wide, terrified eyes. I keep a tight grip on the tooth as I watch him dip into his pocket and retrieve a syringe half full with a liquid similar in color to tea.
My heart beats faster as I realize that it’s a tranquilizer just like the one he would use on me during some of our shock sessions, where it wasn’t fun for him to watch me plead for mercy.
‘I didn’t do anything wrong,’ my voice is weak as I feel tears prick at my eyes. I’m amazed I can say anything at all.
‘Tell that to the fifteen kids you locked in a burning classroom,’ he says, pushing the plunger just enough for some of the sedative to squirt out and land on me.
‘I didn’t kill them. It was the shadows,’ I cry but he’s not listening.
Roland takes a step closer, my legs are between his as he leans forward with every intention of sticking me with the needle. I lash out with my right foot and I feel it connect hard with his groin.
He lets out a loud grunt and falls forward trying to hold his damaged privates which cause him to stumble. I’m certain he’s going to land right on top of me but instead his body twists and there is a loud crack as his head hits the frame of the bed.
Then there is one final thump as his body falls next to mine. I feel a sharp pain on my shoulder as he lands and when I look I see the needle has been buried deep into my flesh. The weight of his own body rolling towards me forces his hand down on the plunger and I can feel every drop of the tranquilizer enter my blood stream.
I quickly slip the tooth into the pocket of my jeans. I scramble for the doorway and the stairs which would lead to my freedom, or at the very least get me out of the house.
My arms and legs feel heavy as I crawl down the stairs belly first. The world is swimming before my eyes as I reach the hallway leading to the front door. I only have to make it another few feet and I will be able to get out onto the porch.
But the tranquilizer is too strong and the world around me quickly dissolves into darkness. It’s time for another dream.
I find myself propped up against the living room wall, facing the large fireplace. The room, and from what I can tell, the house, is still old and barren but someone has got the fire going. I can see the flames licking at the small logs bunched inside.
It’s still daylight outside but from where I’m sitting something seems different. My arms and legs feel shaky as I push myself up onto my feet and walk over to the window.
The grass is still outside but now it seems to go on for much longer. It takes me a second before I realize that at some point before Orange really developed, Ezikal’s land carried on past the main road and into the other fields. There were no trees marking the boundaries.
‘It’s amazing how time changes everything isn’t it,’ I hear a man’s voice behind me and I instantly recognize it as belonging to Ezikal.
I expect to see a man covered head to toe in a black robe, but when I turn away from the window I see him as others would have back then. He wore plain brown pants and a matching waistcoat with a white shirt underneath that. Wellingtons covered his feet and he seemed to have a strand of hay clamped between the fingers of his right hand like he was holding a cigarette.
He looked about as threatening as Jerub did and I wondered when he and Artemis and Slendy would show up.
‘Yeah, one minute your farming to survive and the next you’re sacrificing your wife and unborn child for the sake of…I have no idea what the point of that was..’ I can hear the attitude in my voice but I’m so tired.
Ezikal shakes his head and rather than losing his temper like I expect he walks over to the window and glances out at his land. He looks thoughtful, his mind on other, maybe happier times, I think.
‘It was never supposed to be like that. The parties were supposed to be a celebration of a good harvest, and a thank you to the gods who helped make it possible for us to sustain ourselves,’ he says, his voice distant.
‘When did the sacrifices start?’ I feel I need to know this for some reason although I have no idea why.
‘It was on the night of the sixth month, of the sixth year of the sixth harvest. We had gathered out in the field to perform a ritual that was supposed to bring harmony to the community and wealth to our pockets.’
‘666 is the number of the beast,’ I say absently, remembering an old Iron Maiden song.
‘It’s also the exact number of people who lived in the county at that time,’ he says, his eyes are still staring out in the field probably picturing farm animals that are no longer there.
‘Okay, but why the sacrifice,’ I ask, realizing it could be some time before the tranquilizer wears off.
‘The book of Salem stated that for the ritual to truly bear fruit a live animal such as a pig or sheep should be used to please the great god. Understand that we knew nothing of the dark lord, nor did we believe in him at that time. But on that night I brought a chicken from the barn to be sacrificed as was the word of Salem.’
My mind begins to wonder a little at how these people managed to get as far as farming for a living instead of killing each other. But he motions to the window.
I feel my jaw go slack as day is turned into night. The stars are out for everyone to see and the hooded figures I know to be the party of shadows stand just a few feet away from the front porch. They have arranged themselves around the intricate but crudely drawn symbol with the altar near its apex.
Ezikal stands next to me as the hooded version of himself appears holding a flapping chicken in one hand and a sharp butcher’s knife in the other. I feel horror rise up inside me and I want to look away but I can’t, he’s trying to show me something, something that might help me, and so I keep watching.
Even as he takes the head of the chicken and allows it blood to pour into the channel of the altar I find myself both horrified and curious.
‘After sacrificing the poultry both myself and the other farmers received an abundant harvest and the chicken hatchlings grew in numbers beyond what we would have ever expected. It was then suggested for the next sacrifice a sheep should be used in the belief that it would increase our livestock by greater numbers,’ he continues and I turn away from the sight of blood outside, feeling my stomach knot in disgust.
‘And I bet you ended up with more livestock after it,’ I say.
‘Indeed, your very observant young lady,’ says Ezikal and I can’t’ tell if he’s being sarcastic thanks to the laid back way he talks.
‘So what was the point of the human sacrifices,’ I say, lowering my voice as if the cops might hear us talk.
‘The animal offerings were all that Salem required to ensure our nourishment. He never expected anything more beyond that. But as with a lot of things in life, there is always an opposite version of whatever you might have, and it was voted that we as a group should switch from the book of Salem to the book of Satan. Almost all the rituals in that book required a human sacrifice, often a female one since their blood is considered purer by the dark lord. I was hesitant at first, but again my reservations were put on hold by the request of the group or should I face sacking,’ he explains and I wonder if he feels the sacking part would have been better than how everything eventually turns out for him.
‘Go on,’ I say, keeping my back to the
window as I hear a young girl being dragged screaming to the altar. I don’t look.
‘We picked the youngest girl from the poorest families. Making them believe that they would be raised in good conditions fitting for a girl. Of course, a small offering of eggs was given in exchange for the girl and then on that night we would bring her to the altar,’ I see tears well in his eyes and I know then there was a part of him that was human at some point in history.
‘What was the point of it all?’
‘The book of Satan stated that sacrificing a female child in his honor would bring good fortune to those offering her blood. Also, it would increase the fertility of any adult female owned by those making the offering. Myself and two other farmers were in dire need of children of our own. It was, I will admit, a personal mission of my own,’ he says and I feel offended at the thought they owned the women in their lives. What’s with that?
Ezikal’s face grows dark as the screaming outside comes to an abrupt end. I still don’t look because in my head I have enough imagery to last a lifetime and beyond.
‘I know it worked because your wife fell pregnant,’ I blurt, unsure if he knew I had seen him before.
‘I thought I sensed you before, and now I know I have,’ he says, ‘Miriam was my beloved since the day my eyes landed on her delicate features. When we realized she was with child it was like the glory of god had been bestowed upon us and we both felt truly blessed,’ his face grows darker and I know this is where the story goes from grim to pitch black.
‘Why did you sacrifice both of them?’ I have to ask so I can try and make sense of the puzzle.
‘The others wanted more. A single life given in honor of the dark lord was never enough. They felt that they would gain greater power, maybe even immortality by sacrificing Miriam and her unborn child,’ the tears flow from his eyes as the painful memory resurfaces.
‘You could have stopped them,’ my voice is low but I know he gets my point because nods.
‘By that point, there was no means for me to stop them. I know you saw what happened to me when I opposed them. The same thing would have happened earlier and then they would have taken Miriam regardless. I felt it best that she at least die by her husband’s hand,’ as he talks I can see large shadows form on the walls around us. They move like people but there is something twisted about them. They are disfigured but still recognizable as human. They walk the walls, pacing around us as the conversation continues.
