Dark Winter: Trilogy

by Hennessy, John

  Tori-Suzanne lunged at Dana and dug her hand into the gaping wound on her shoulder, the one that had been inflicted more than a year before. The distraction was enough. Dana dropped her knife, and Tori-Suzanne screamed towards the door. “Beth! Now! Come out now! I’ve got the blade!”

  There was an almighty crash of the door as Beth flung herself through the opening. She was as good as her word. Tori-Suzanne hurled the knife towards Beth, who managed to catch it with one hand.

  The corpse of Dana had followed her through the flames. Beth had remained resolutely focussed throughout, and could do so for just a little while longer. Dana’s body was burning, but Beth could try and heal herself later. With a strength she never knew she possessed, she grabbed a hold of Dana, and plunged her own blade into the demon’s neck. This time, black blood, not red, poured from Dana, who collapsed on the floor.

  “Beth, what have you done? What have you done?” Dana shrilled. “In life, I never hurt anyone. I had to be murdered to become evil. And you hurt me.”

  It was a delaying tactic, and Beth wavered. “For pity’s sake, she’s just a little girl, Susie!”

  Tori-Suzanne got her back on track.

  “No mercy, Beth. That is a demon. Destroy it. Rip her fucking heart out.”

  Beth, wild-eyed and delirious, picked up the blade, which had fallen when Dana collapsed to the ground. Without a second thought, she plunged it hard into the little girl’s chest. In her manic state, even Beth surprised herself by finding the organ itself, and yanked her heart out, leaving a bloody, gaping hole in Dana’s chest. Almost instantly, Dana returned to an angelic looking state, her small fingers touched Beth’s hands.

  “Don’t you ever touch that Mirror, Beth. You’ll be cursed if you do.”

  Dana’s body convulsed horribly, expelling so much blood that Beth had to jump backwards to find cover. The death rattle continued for a few seconds more. Finally, the body of Dana Cullen lay still.

  Gethsemane

  John 13:21: After saying these things, Jesus was troubled in his spirit, and testified, “Truly, truly, I say to you, one of you will betray me.”

  Beth was inconsolable and was screaming hysterically. Tori-Suzanne did all she could to calm her down, but nothing seemed to work. Beth seemed to be unable to relinquish the bloody heart she had pulled from Dana’s chest. She remained in close proximity to the body, even though blood had seeped out, covering her legs and lower back.

  “Beth, please. It’s done. We can go now,” said Tori-Suzanne gently. Doing her best not to sound like she was dictating what Beth should do, she offered her next words gently. “We really should go now. You’ve done incredibly well. Everyone will be so proud of you. You’re a hero, Beth.”

  Beth shook her head. “No. It’s not done. Why don’t I feel that it is?”

  “Beth, you’ve been through a lot. I promise you, whatever help you need to get over this, you’ll have it.”

  “I doubt you can help me with this.” Beth shook the fist clenching the heart, refusing to put it down.

  Tori-Suzanne wondered what Toril would do in this situation. She’d heard about the girls falling out, but hoped it was just a temporary thing. After Jacinta’s death, Toril hadn’t been her usual chirpy self. She had never been an introvert, and it seemed that her contact with Beth was the last good thing in her life.

  Toril would probably force Beth to do whatever she wants her to do, thought Tori-Suzanne. But she doubted that Beth would be so easy to dictate to in the future. Cradling her elbows, Tori-Suzanne helped Beth to stand up.

  “I’m okay,” she said. “I’ll put this back.”

  Dana Cullen’s body hadn’t moved, however Tori-Suzanne didn’t worry about the life of the demon, but the death. The dead can still move, can still scare, and can kill. Beth stood over the little girl, holding the heart in her hands. Some of the blood splattered onto Dana’s dress.

  Tori-Suzanne wanted to shout at Beth, and tell her not to spill the demon’s blood onto her body. But those sorts of commands were the kind that her daughter used. She would not act the same way. Let this play out the way it’s going to. If she comes back to life somehow, I can cut her body into little pieces. She won’t hurt anyone again.

  “Can we put her back in the coffin?”

  Tori-Suzanne didn’t want to go anywhere near the body. The spirit of Dana had been hurt, neutralised, perhaps even banished forever. Looking at the angelic looking girl on the floor, she did feel pangs of remorse of what they had done.

  The one person she felt no remorse for was Don Curie. Without a body, they could not lay him in peace in the same way Beth hoped to do for Dana. Whilst she was processing all this information in her head, Beth bent down and cradled Dana’s body in her arms. The girl’s arms flopped to the side.

  “She is dead, Beth. Her body, anyway. We should burn it, to be sure.”

  “To be sure of what?”

  “To be sure she cannot have any possibility of a return.”

  Beth mumbled an uh-hum but did not seem convinced. “Please Susie, let’s just lay her to rest. Maybe we can move the coffin afterwards, and give her a proper burial.”

  “Is there something you’re not telling me, Beth?”

  “I don’t know. Just none of this feels right. I….I don’t want to burn her body. I have to live with the image of her burning up right in front of me. I think I could live my whole life and yet never be able to get rid of that image.”

  “I promise you, you’ll get help.”

  Beth stood up slowly and clutched her chest. She was too young to have a heart attack, but she had recalled her grandfather’s grimace when he suffered the first of three cardiac arrests. Tori-Suzanne, much like her daughter, wore you’ll get over it expression on her face, so Beth stayed mute, but every small movement pained her.

  Wondering if she had any healing power left within her, Beth placed her left hand over her heart. It had the opposite effect of what she had hoped, and was if she had stuck a knife right in her chest, forcing blood to gush from her mouth, which then splattered onto Dana’s body.

  “Beth!” the normally calm Tori-Suzanne screamed, “What’s wrong?”

  “A little local difficulty,” chuckled Beth nervously. “I’ll be alright.” Beth used the back of her hand to wipe the blood from her mouth. Tori-Suzanne was frantic about Beth’s health, and just wanted to get her away from the evil house. Beth agreed with that, but wanted to leave together. Tori-Suzanne felt that every moment Beth stayed at Redwood could be her last.

  “Toril set up a portal here,” said Beth weakly. “Maybe it’s still active, or you can create a new one. We can go to West Gorswood, and check on Romilly.”

  Tori-Suzanne thought about the logic of Beth’s statement. It made sense that the three girls would be there together at the end. Nagging thoughts about Toril, and also the Book, continued to gnaw at her.

  Beth countered that there was still a job to do. “The dolls, remember? I don’t know if it will kill Dana’s spirit, but don’t you think we have to try?”

  Tori-Suzanne reasoned that it could not be that simple, things in life that looked simple never were. For their little bonfire idea to work, they had to have the full collection of dolls. They only had one.

  “They’re downstairs, below in the cellar. I’m waiting for you there, Susie. Bitch you wanna play?”

  Dana’s head had lopped to one side, her vacant expression not betraying a vacant spirit.

  Beth coughed up more blood. Tori-Suzanne decided to act. “Beth, I’m sending you to Rosewinter, at least, nearby. Catch up with Toril, check on Romilly. You’ll be safe and stronger together.”

  “What about you? I’m not leaving you here! You know what they say about fighting Dana? It’s suicide! You can’t win!”

  “Beth, I’ve been saying for years that Dana Cullen was dead, and so we had nothing to fear from her. This is between us now. I refused Toril a wand because I didn’t want to go after Dana with some kind of vendetta. I wi
ll deal with her, but you have to go, where it’s safe.”

  “How do you know it’s safer there than here?”

  “I don’t know,” smiled Tori-Suzanne, “but if we never took a risk in life, we’d never learn anything or become anything.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you and Toril just send me away when you tire of me?”

  “I promise you I’ll never tire of you. Just let me do this, okay?”

  “You will win, won’t you?”

  “Just remember what I said, Beth. Here.”

  Tori-Suzanne unclasped the previously hidden pentacle from around her neck, and placed it around Beth’s slender frame.

  “No,” exclaimed Beth, “you need this. What are you doing? She’ll kill you for certain if you don’t have this!”

  Beth tried to unclasp the chain but was unable to. “Damn it, Susie. Don’t pull these Wiccan tricks on me!”

  “To protect you, Beth. Now you have my pentacle, and your cross. You’ll be alright now.”

  “Su-”

  Tori-Suzanne had no use for Toril’s portal, even if it was there, and, using her wand, sent Beth hurtling towards Rosewinter. The witch sighed, picked up the doll, and regarded the corpse of Dana one more time, before kicking her hard in the face, spoiling her formerly angelic looking state.

  Dana’s small hands grabbed at Tori-Suzanne’s ankle and dug her nails in. The witch lifted her leg up and smashed her heel so hard against Dana that her jawbone broke. Finally, she ripped a clump of blonde hair from the girl’s head before rolling the fibres into a ball, throwing it on the floor, stamped on the collection of hairs, and spat on them.

  “That’s for scalping my daughter, blondie. I’m going to do what the cowards at the Circle should have done to you years ago.”

  Tori-Suzanne kicked the door open, and made her way outside. This time, something did grab her leg, and it was far more painful than a dead girl’s hands. It was one of Donald Curie’s old traps. The teeth of the trap closed like a vice around her leg, and she found herself hoisted upside down outside the old house.

  The old Dana doll had fallen in the mud, and its eyes stared blankly but also with pure hatred at Tori-Suzanne. She could hear a sound in the bushes around her. Tori-Suzanne fell to the ground and clutched at her leg, which was bleeding a little.

  “Oh yes, I can imagine you are in a lot of pain right now. Those traps are meant to hold onto their prey. But you’re no use to me.”

  Tori-Suzanne knew the voice. “Show yourself, you fucking child killer!”

  Curie appeared and grabbed Tori-Suzanne by the throat, “A little gratitude would be welcome from you. I saved your life. I want you to finish her off as much as you do.”

  “Do it yourself, then!” The pain in her leg was excruciating.

  “And become what? Like you? What did you call me? Dear me, and to think young Toril may have learned such words from you. Polite girl, your daughter. No, you will do it. There are ten dolls down there, you have the eleventh, and in Dana’s body, lies the twelfth. She is the twelfth doll.”

  Curie unhooked the trap from around Tori-Suzanne’s ankle. “You know where the thirteenth doll is, don’t you?”

  “I have my suspicions, yes. Are you corporeal right now?”

  “Do not change the subject,” said Curie menacingly. “We both know that you cannot defeat Dana, not like this. Where’s your pentacle?”

  “I gave it away.”

  “No no no. A witch wouldn’t do that. Give up what protects you, for someone else? Not your daughter, for she has one, or will have once again. Who then? Beth? Romilly?”

  Tori-Suzanne stayed silent.

  “You can’t save them, don’t you see? Well, if you want to face your oblivion, go right ahead. Downstairs, you’ll find a can of lighter fluid. Just pour it on the ten dolls and set it ablaze. She’ll come for you, if she’s not there already. But no thirteenth doll, no victory. No-”

  Curie gargled as Tori-Suzanne pierced his neck with her wand. “So you are corporeal then.” She removed the wand with force, just as Dana had done so a few years before. Blood poured from the orifice, and he fell to the ground. The witch stood on his stomach, puncturing his ribs with her stiletto heel. “Tell me how she does it. How does she stay solid? I can’t win if she’s not solid.”

  “You can’t win anyway. You’ve messed with her body. All your Wiccan claptrap should have told you not to mess with the body. And you’ll have to do what you’re not prepared to do. Destroy the thirteenth doll.”

  “I’ve got someone on the case.”

  “No you haven’t,” said Curie, who had been visibly hurt by the attack. He had underestimated her power. “She doesn’t belong to the Circle, any more than you did.”

  “Fuck you and the Circle,” Tori-Suzanne said, spitting in Curie’s face. “Fuck you.”

  Whether Curie had disappeared to attend to his wounds or not, Tori-Suzanne did not know, nor cared to know, and flung open the door which led to her nemesis. Pointing her bloodied wand in the darkness, she said, “Okay blondie, time to meet your maker.”

  There was a shuffling of someone moving about in the shadows. She strained her eyes, but still Tori-Suzanne could see nothing. She resisted the temptation to illuminate the place with her wand.

  One by one, she descended slowly down the steps. Directly ahead, Tori-Suzanne could not believe what she was seeing. The shapes of dolls, in the image of Dana Cullen, were placed on a shelf towards the back wall. Excitement turned to disappointment as she counted ten of the dolls. She had the eleventh, and believed the twelfth element was in Dana’s corpse.

  Where was the last one?

  Another sound, a whimper this time. Tori-Suzanne turned a full 360 degrees and pointed her wand in the darkness.

  “Don’t,” whimpered the voice. “Please don’t.”

  Tori-Suzanne recognised the voice. It was Toril’s, but a younger sounding version. The witch decided Dana was trying to distract her.

  “I know you’re there, so show yourself.”

  The voice continued.

  “I’m hurt. I’m scared. Please don’t hurt me. Please.”

  Try as she might, the voice did unsettle her greatly. Tori-Suzanne had to keep the upper hand. “You know what I have come to do. You know how this ends.”

  Tori-Suzanne observed the shape, which stood slowly. “I’m hurt. I’m scared,” repeated the voice.

  “I. Don’t. Care,” said Tori-Suzanne. “Show yourself.”

  “Look what you and your precious Beth did to me,” squealed Dana, who had emerged from the dark corner. Her jaw, slacked to one side, her eyes, filled with a crimson fluid too thick to actually be composed of blood. A gash so deep in her throat it exposed her neck down as far as her collar bone.

  The injury to her shoulder had widened too, from which a yellowish-black fluid poured without restrain. Her plain white dress, with a generous lace hem, was clotted with blood. Her blonde hair looked lifeless, unkempt, dirty.

  Tori-Suzanne noticed something else, whilst keeping her wand trained on her. Dana’s hands were uncharacteristically empty. She maintained her slow place towards Tori-Suzanne.

  “Stay back!”

  “I’m unarmed; and you should know that I made my peace with your daughter. I gave Toril back her things. You don’t have to do this to me.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Tori-Suzanne turned back to the doll shelf and fired a bolt from her wand, setting the dolls ablaze.

  “Nooo!” screamed Dana. “No! No! No! You’re killing me.”

  Dana sank to her knees and covered her head.

  “That’s the general idea,” said Tori-Suzanne.

  “Why? What have I ever done to you?”

  “You would have killed my daughter if not for the oil that protected her body. You should have picked on someone who could have defeated you. Your killing days are over. Now stand up and get what’s coming to you.”

  Dana refused to budge.

  “Fine. Yo
u can die on your knees or whilst standing, it makes no difference to me.”

  Tori-Suzanne enjoyed particular satisfaction in using Dana’s infamous execution line on the demon herself. As she raised her wand, and prepared to utter the killing curse, Dana, who had covered her hands over her face, peered through her fingers one last time.

  Dana saw the fire emanate from Tori-Suzanne’s wand. This former member of the Circle was all-powerful, and had lost none of her touch. As Dana awaited her oblivion, something, or someone from the side hit Tori-Suzanne like a speeding train.

  The figure was that of a man. He groaned on the floor, injured from the impact. Dana finally stood up, checked the figure of Tori-Suzanne, who had been knocked out cold, before returning to the man.