Dark Winter: Trilogy

by Hennessy, John

  Dana sensed that there was a way to recover from her wounds, "I can perform some craft of my own," said Dana to herself. "I’ll be an eleven year old girl no more."

  Dana disappeared into the night. If she went back to the realm from which she came, she went willingly. Toril lay motionless in the night sky.

  ***

  Beth O’Neill was a pathetic sight. Bleeding, scared, hungry, far from home. Far from anyone who would care about her.

  I wanted to stop myself, but I just couldn’t. The animal heads were chanting at me to kill her and destroy the mirror. At first, the voices were all muddled, but soon enough, I got a sense of clarity. They kept on chanting ‘Set the Evil Ones Free,’ over and over again in my head.

  It was too much to take. Another voice – Beth’s was pleading with me to do not whatever I was thinking of doing.

  As I raised the Mirror high above her, preparing to stove her head in with it, all madness became me. I was crying, laughing, sad, happy, delirious, confused, all at the same time. Weaker than I had ever felt. Stronger than I had ever been.

  Another voice, the Demon’s, was strongest of all.

  Kill her now, Romilly.

  With the force of a hundred men, I brought the Mirror of Souls crashing down.

  The Burning Forest

  Troy Jackson was dazed and confused. He had been looking for Toril everywhere. He wanted to explain his actions to her, but would she believe him? He wasn’t confused. He knew who he wanted. But if she hated him, what could he do? Could he blame her?

  He wanted to retrieve the axe after destroying Dana with it. Things had not gone to plan, to put it mildly. Still, there was always the chance to rectify things, to put it right.

  He would make Toril see that she was the only one for him.

  He would have to walk to Gorswood Cemetery though, and from the Forest, this was at least five miles as the crow flies.

  Troy smiled to himself that Toril was realising skills that she had long held within herself. Disappearing like that with Beth and Jacinta was some trick. He only hoped that they were safe, because he shared Toril’s view on cemeteries.

  "They are a place for the dead, not the living," she would say. "A fine waste of flowers too."

  Still, using Toril’s mindset, the cemetery was the most logical place to find her. It would also be the last place anyone would be thinking of looking for her.

  Unless someone really was looking for her.

  Dana.

  Troy’s pace quickened as thoughts, events, memories ran through his head. Jacinta was dead, Toril and Beth were missing, and he knew he had left me, Romilly, at the mercy of Curie, if he possessed such a quality.

  Troy’s confused state began to clear up. He knew what he needed to do. No longer was this a brisk walk, nor an aimless wander through the forest. He broke into a run, and ran faster than he ever had in his life.

  ***

  I could see the fear in Beth’s eyes. But what I was doing was important. It was everything. Soon, she would see that I was right.

  Except that I was knocked sideways by someone, or something as I was about to set the evil ones free.

  I had landed awkwardly, and watched as the Mirror clattered to the floor. I spun around to see who had hit me.

  Curie had returned.

  No matter. I didn’t care why. He had messed with me for the last time. The gloves – my gloves, were off. I launched myself at him and he punched me on the chin as I was coming in. The adrenaline kept me going though. He tried to get past me but I yanked what remained of his hair, and he yelped in pain as I pulled his hair so hard, the fullness of his neck was exposed.

  I dug my nails into his neck, and pulled clumps of skin out of him, cursing him repeatedly. The Mirror’s condition was unknown, but it was clear to me that Curie, even if he couldn’t use it, intended to ensure that I couldn’t either.

  I lifted my knee, smashing it into his stomach and head again and again. I knew it, even as I kept beating him to perhaps within an inch of his life, but still, I could not stop myself.

  Blood splattered the walls of Diabhal Takh. I had blood on my hands too. I felt disgusted with myself, yet at the same time, strangely vindicated.

  I turned to Beth as Curie writhed in pain on the floor.

  "You see Beth, what I was doing? This is my gift to you, don’t you see? He – this thing – killed your parents. I’m doing it for you, Beth."

  I felt alone. Had the Demon left me?

  Beth crawled towards me on the floor, mumbling inaudibly.

  I still didn’t know where the Mirror was.

  Blood poured from Curie. I had never seen so much blood before. Then, to my total amazement, the blood started to collect itself, and go back into Curie’s body. The wounds I had inflicted on him started to heal, right before my eyes.

  "Oh damn," he said. "To suffer this once more. When will it end? I really thought you’d done for me, Romilly. I wanted my last words to be thank you."

  Shouting towards Beth, he mocked "How about you, Sister Beth? Going to pray for me, are you? Are you?"

  Beth managed to stand to her feet, even though her leg bent awkwardly.

  She pointed the bow at Curie.

  "No prayers for you," she said. "You are going to tell me what I want to know though."

  All will to get the Mirror had gone from me. From all of us, it seemed. Curie remained transfixed on Beth.

  "I’ve told you what you wanted to know. You won’t believe me though, will you Beth?"

  "There is something you haven’t told the truth about that night," said Beth through clenched teeth, but you are going to tell me now. No Dana dolls, no zombies. Just you, me and the truth, okay?"

  She pulled back on the bow, gently stroking the quiver.

  "Ever used that before Beth? I don’t recall you as school archery champion."

  "From this distance, I’m as good as Calamity Jane. I won’t miss."

  "Then you are a fool. That weapon was made for things that cannot be killed."

  "Well, a pretty good trick you pulled on us just now," I said. "You should be dead."

  "You over-rate yourself, as usual, Romilly. Like all your friends. Troy. Toril, and er…oh yes, do tell me – where is Jacinta now?"

  As much as Curie deserved a final, absolute death, I wondered, given all I had seen happen in the past two years, how this could actually happen. Curie seemed impervious to any weapon, any human, any demon. Was he, in fact, ‘the man’ that Beth had been mumbling about?

  "Don’t you dare mention her name," said Beth. She suddenly went unsteady on her legs.

  "Beth, sit down, will you?" I pleaded.

  Beth turned the bow towards me. "I’m not done with you yet, Romilly. You, or that Mirror. Go stand in that corner, and stay there."

  I did as I was told. The fight had gone out of me.

  "No matter to me. She’s just an unfortunate casualty in this tale," continued Curie. "You really want to know what happened?"

  "Yes! I want to know. I want to know, damn you."

  "Alright. Alright then. I was there the night your parents died, but I wasn’t alone in the dark. Someone else was there too."

  "Here we go again!" screamed Beth. "You refuse to take the blame for things that you did!!"

  I really hoped Beth wouldn’t do that. She would only become what ironically, Curie stopped me from becoming a few moments ago.

  "Beth O’Neill. This is the truth. I was not alone. But someone known to your parents, yet seemingly unknown to you, was there. You had a sister, you see."

  "What?!! You are lying to save your own skin. You damned liar!"

  I had to speak up. "Beth. Don’t do it. He’s messing with you. Please. Put the bow down. We can go to the police or something."

  It was my turn to ramble incoherently. What was I thinking?

  "I’m not lying," said Curie, calmly. "Your sister was older than you, by some twelve years.

  She had fallen on hard times though, an
d had set the fire ablaze to claim the insurance on your parents. I managed to get her out of there, but couldn’t save your parents. I am sorry."

  Beth was silent for a moment. Curie wondered had she bought his description of events.

  "That’s utter bull," said Beth, raising the bow once more.

  "It is not."

  "Then where is she? My sister?"

  "Why, Beth, she’s in the next room. All you had to do was ask."

  ***

  Troy didn’t like cemeteries anything more than Toril did. He teased her often how she was into the occult and witchcraft and many other things, but could not bear to be amongst graves.

  "It’s the dead, not the graves themselves," Toril corrected Troy one day, when they were discussing it.

  He hoped they would have more conversations. He didn’t want what happened between them to be his last memory of her.

  As he ran to the cemetery, he realised he may still not be able to find Toril. It was a big shot thinking she was still here. If he knew Toril well enough, she had probably moved on. Still, he wanted to make sure. With zombies, Dana and the madman Curie lurking about, it was anyone’s guess where Toril was.

  Troy passed by numerous graves until he saw the chapel. Yes! This is where the girls would be. Beth was with them, and would be into all that religious stuff. On checking the door, he was not surprised to find it unlocked. Had he checked around the back of the chapel, he would have found Toril’s body.

  Instead, he walked inside, and there was a streak of moonlight through the stained glass windows that shone on Jacinta’s body.

  "Poor Jay," thought Troy.

  Jacinta looked at peace. Serene, almost, in death. She had been through a lot in her life.

  "At least you can rest now," Troy said, patting her shoulder. He was pretty nauseous at the coldness of her body. The other thing that disturbed him was that Jacinta’s eyes had not been closed, as was the normal practise after someone’s death.

  "What the-"

  He was certain he could see something in her eyes. Was she alive?

  No.

  But her eyes were reflecting something. As its teeth sank into his neck, Troy managed to spin around and release himself from its grip. But the realisation came all too late. He had been attacked by a Zeryth.

  The zombie backed off momentarily, then came at Troy again. There was nothing to grab at, just thin air. There was time to observe that its skull was exposed, and it had no eyes, or if it did, they were countersunk deep into its sockets.

  It disappeared from view, with only Troy’s curses filling the air. His life was over. It would only be a matter of time before he became one of them.

  ***

  For Toril Withers, there had been no white light, no tunnel, no meeting anyone on the other side. There was, however, the very real feeling of numbness and a dull headed feeling, pretty much how anyone would feel after consuming too much alcohol.

  There was an incessant thud-thud-thud going on in the back of her head. She couldn’t shift it.

  Still, she was alive. Alive, and as she ran her hands over her legs, head, and chest, seemingly unhurt.

  "I should be dead," said Toril, almost surprised to hear words coming out her mouth. "I really ought to be dead."

  Logic wouldn’t be able to play a part here, so Toril dusted herself down and stood up slowly. Dana was gone, but could be back in an instant, Toril knew that for sure. She had to get moving.

  Toril wanted to check on Jacinta. Oh, she knew it was all hopeless, there was no way of bringing her back.

  "I just want to be with her. She shouldn’t be all alone in there."

  Then Toril saw what had been causing the thud-thud-thud in her head. She might have head pains, but there was no doubt what she saw with her own eyes.

  In front of the chapel doors, inside where Jacinta lay, were a group of zombies that were maybe thirty in number, and easily outnumbered Toril.

  There was no way she could fight them all.

  She watched in horror as the thud-thud-thuds resulted in the doors being broken open, and the Zeryths poured in.

  "Jacinta!!!!" screamed Toril.

  She could not run towards them, that would be suicide. There had to be another way into the chapel. Toril decided to make a run for it to the rear of the old building on the other side, and sure enough, found a huge wrought iron door there.

  She pulled at it with her remaining strength, but it would not budge. Suddenly, she felt dizzy. She had taken a shot from Dana at full power, after all. She could deal such feelings later. Right now, they were an irritation.

  The moans became a crescendo. Zeryths were crowding behind her. She had been found, and had nowhere else to go.

  ***

  I tried to stop Beth, but she was in a frenzied state. Poor girl. I had just tried to kill her, and Curie might still end up achieving that if he managed to tip her fragile state into full-blown insanity.

  Beth shoulder barged her way into the next room, and crashed onto the floor.

  I wanted to kick Curie, hard, for teasing her. But soon, he would get all that was coming to him. It was not for me to deal out judgement and death.

  Instead, I chased after Beth into the next room, which, on the surface, looked empty. There was no-one here. I turned to run back to Curie, but I felt something sharp in my back.

  "Don’t move, Romilly," said Beth.

  "It’s not your fingers this time, is it?"

  "You know it."

  "Beth, Curie’s messing with you, don’t you see? He’s trying to turn me against you, the old devil."

  "You’re pleading for your life, after what you just tried to do to me?"

  "I don’t know what came over me," I said. The arrow head probed angrily, but I didn’t feel like it had broken my skin. Beth might be angry, and rightly so, but I didn’t feel she had the will to hurt me.

  She withdrew the bow.

  "Turn around."

  Thank God she had seen sense.

  "Slowly," she said icily.

  Oh. Not so good.

  "You will help me find her, Romilly."

  I wanted to say that there probably wasn’t a sister, and that Curie was using this lie to distract us, as a means of escape. Again. Beth clearly wanted to know for sure, so I couldn’t refuse her.

  "The room is empty," said Beth, "so she must be behind one of the panels. Help me break them, Romilly. My legs are useless. I’ve healed my knee enough to walk though."

  The panels were just that, and easy to break. I kicked them hard, and they splintered easily. With my hands, I tore a huge panel back, and inside, we saw two coffins.

  One was white, with gold handles on the side of the casket. A child no more than ten or twelve could fit in there.

  The stench of death hung in the air. I wanted to vomit, I really did, but held back.

  Beth strained her neck, and slowly followed me, using the bow as a rudimentary walking stick to steady herself.

  We both looked at each other.

  "It’s the other one," we said at the same time.

  The room was impossibly dusty. I wretched violently, and Beth started too.

  "We haven’t much time," she said. "We’ve got to open it," she spluttered.

  "Curie will get away," I spat out.

  "He won’t get far. Come on Romilly. Heave."

  We both dug our nails in under the lid. I wasn’t sure was Beth was thinking, but I for one was terrified. Whatever lay in that coffin, I didn’t want to see it.

  ***

  She tried to fight back, but hands grabbed at her hair, and long-dead fingers probed her abdomen. Toril knew of the typical behaviour of zombies. They burrowed into your stomach and pulled your insides out.

  To think it had come to this. She cursed repeatedly as the clammy fingers worked together to rip her body to pieces.

  ***

  Once the dust had settled, we could make out the remains of a human body. A girl, maybe no more than eighteen or twenty,
judging by the size of the corpse.

  Save for a few strands of hair, there was no way to know if this woman had been Beth’s sister.

  There was one thing that caught Beth’s eye, and her scowl at me softened.

  "Oh Milly," she cried. "It’s a cross, just like the one I had. Milly. I really had a sister!"