Dark Winter

by John Hennessy

  “I think so, it’ll pass. I shouldn’t moan. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

  “Do you know what happened to you?” asked Troy.

  “The details are a bit hazy, but you can fill me in later.”

  Beth turned to look around. “Are we all okay? Romilly? Jay?”

  I did feel alright, it was almost like the physical pain had gone, but the emotional scars…I doubted that they would ever heal.

  Jacinta was still a bit doubled up on the floor. Beth went over to her and placed her hands on her stomach. “Wow,” said Jacinta. “That’s amazing. How do you do it?”

  Beth shrugged her shoulders. “I really don’t know how it works. But I think I’ve got my faith back. Hey Milly, do you think I can get my cross back?”

  “I’ll get you a new one,” I said.

  The upside down cross that Curie had carved into Beth’s back, had begun to fade.

  * * *

  Spring gave way to Summer. I had hoped that the closeness that had thrust me, Beth, Toril, Jacinta and Troy together, could have survived. But there was just too much hurt, too much pain. Hard experiences gone through. Things couldn’t bring us closer together, because they reminded us constantly of the terrible things we had gone through.

  I lifted right out of the group. I lived much further away than Beth, Toril and Jacinta did. Even Troy lived just three roads away from Toril, and word had it that they were seeing each other anyway.

  I had no time for love in my life, and yet, this really hurt. The phone calls had all but stopped from Beth too. So much for a resurgence of our friendship.

  I could hold no grudge against Jacinta. After all, she’d been through enough in her life. The strange healing ability Beth had picked up after the encounter with Curie, when he failed to release the five Zeryths, had continued. She’d even fixed Jacinta’s hair temporarily, so it went back to its original blonde. I only found out about this by being on-line and checking one of Toril’s Wiccan forums.

  So Beth was realising some abilities of her own. I would have hoped she would have looked me up some time, as kindred spirit, you might say.

  It seemed like fate, that I was destined to spend my sixteenth birthday alone, in Rosewinter, and it seemed that the girls and Troy had moved on. I would have to do so too.

  (iii)

  Diabhal

  Unwanted Visions

  Curie lay with the left side of his face in the snow. The extreme cold wasn’t really a bad thing, because it helped to numb the pain in his leg. This winter was going to be a bad one, and he hoped not to be around for the next one.

  Still, the killing would be at an end, and compared to Gacey, Dahmer, Shipman, he was an amateur. He hadn’t killed that many, and it had all been under duress anyway, right? Try telling these grease-balled judges that.

  If there was a God, which he had spent his entire life believing that no such entity existed, he hoped that such a being would meet him on the Other Side.

  He figured that he could endure anything, anything at all except eternity with Diabhal. To think – to know, that there are worse things than the Devil chilled him now.

  Evil does exist, but not in the way people think. It’s too easy to say Heaven is all light and Hell is fire. That’s too simple. Playground stuff for dummies.

  No. There was another true evil, and would claim Curie this day.

  It’s a funny thing, dying. I know, because I’ve been there. Been through the void. Because of Curie, I know exactly what dying felt like.

  If he could trade a soul, however, he could save his miserable existence. It didn’t pass for what others might call a life.

  Then he saw something that might just do that. A single white rose, bent over double with the weight of the snow, came into view.

  He sank his teeth into the fleshy part of his hand, biting deep enough to draw blood. He didn’t know if it would be enough to summon Dana, but he had to try.

  Maybe she would kill him finally. I mean, why not? He was just another pawn in the game to her. At least with Dana, it would be quick. He’d survived the last time only because he served a purpose to her. Usually, her method of killing left the unfortunate soul with their spine ripped from their back, the throat slashed open by her wand, and the point of that same wand would be used to burst the eyeballs in her victim’s head.

  Finally, she would get out her skipping rope and jump up and down on the corpse, with blood and entrails and bone sloshing about everywhere.

  Curie knew all about that. He’d seen her do it to Aaron Noone.

  What else then? Wait for the Zeryth? Or the Erinyes? If anything, they were not as vicious as Dana, in the killing sense of things. They were efficient. They would just snap your neck like it was a twig. Separating spine from brain stem, it meant instant death.

  I could live with that, he laughed to himself.

  Perhaps he could, only for the fact that if the Zeryth killed you, you belonged to Diabhal, because They serviced only him.

  Curie knew he was damned, any which way you called it.

  Thirteen kills and Dana could be released. That was her only agenda. Diabhal – his agenda was different. He got others to do the killing for him, and he’d claim your soul whether you failed or succeeded.

  Dana had said that without the Mirror, his power was diminished. Was she telling the truth?

  No need to flip a coin, even if I had one, thought Curie.

  With his last fleeting bit of energy, he rolled over towards the white rose, smeared its petals in his blood, and waited for her to come.

  * * *

  Through the haze of the snowy mist, the two Zeryths glided through Gorswood Forest. They didn’t feel the cold, as they were already dead. Human, they had been once, but by a set of unforeseen circumstances, they found themselves at the bidding of Diabhal.

  Their modus operandi was simple – to kill, quickly and efficiently. Against pretty much everyone they encountered, the result was the same. Shrieks and cries, followed by pleas to let them live, quickly followed by the crunching of bone and tissue as the head was snapped to the side, separating itself from the body in most cases.

  Two had been released. It was supposed to be five. It would have gotten Dana released, and Diabhal off Curie’s back. At least, for the time being.

  It was all so messed up.

  Still, nothing. He wondered what would happen if Dana and the Zeryth turned up at the same time? He’d love to know who would win that one.

  Or maybe he wouldn’t like to know.

  “Hello, Curie,” she said. “Having a bad day, are we?”

  “You could say that.”

  “You don’t look so good.”

  “You don’t look so great yourself. Bet the wind chills you to the bones.” He laughed at the crassness of his joke, and the desperate situation he found himself in. Dana, for once, do some good. Save me from this existence, and I’ll help you.”

  “Do some good? Do some good?” said Dana, mockingly. “I already saved you once. You belong to me now.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not good enough. The Zerythra are on their way.”

  “That’s a bad day for you then.”

  “Or for you, perhaps.”

  “Oh, I get it. You play me off against them, is that the general idea?”

  “Naturally, I’m hoping you’ll win. Makes it easier for me.”

  “The Zerythra. These are the axe-wielding whores, right?”

  “Yes,” said Curie. “They can be corporeal when then want to be, just before they chop you up with their axe.”

  “Corporeal suits me just fine, you know that,” said Dana.

  “He’ll send more, even if you win.”

  “Not without that Mirror of his, he won’t.”

  “You can’t get to it, but I can.”

  In the distance, Curie could see the two zombie-girls gliding towards them. He suddenly lost his composure.

  “Dana, for pity’s sake, it has to be now. Do it
now, damn you.”

  Dana waved her sparkly pink wand over him and he disappeared into thin air, just as the two Zombie girls arrived.

  One of them swung their axe at Dana, who just laughed at as it passed straight through her. The other zombie, enraged, grabbed at Dana’s neck, but again, could grasp only at thin air.

  Dana, on the other hand, grabbed the zombie girl by the neck. Dana could make contact.

  “Do you know how I kill?” said Dana. “You’re no different to all the others.”

  “Release her now,” said the other zombie, holding the axe to her neck.

  Dana used her free hand to grab the axe.

  “I too can be corporeal if and when I want to be.”

  “We will kill you.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “We must pass. Our business is not with you. It is with the human.”

  “Shouldn’t you be going after something bigger? The Mirror, for instance?”

  They were at a standoff. The Zerythra knew that they probably could kill Dana, but they knew for sure that she could kill them. There wasn’t any amongst the Zerythra who didn’t know about Dana. She wasn’t exactly contained by Diabhal in the same way.

  “Go.”

  Dana smiled as one of the zombie girls glided off.

  At the other remaining zombie, Dana said “Just you and me then. Don’t suppose you want to tell me where she’s going?”

  The zombie backed off, just before rushing Dana. It was a delaying tactic.

  Dana had some limitations. As an eleven year old girl, she was quite small, and this zombie was at least another foot or so in height.

  As the zombie rushed at her, Dana, grabbed her hard by the neck, only for it to disappear into thin air.

  “What-“ said Dana.

  The zombie swooped down towards Curie. Dana’s magic had only made him invisible for a time, and had not transported him to Redwood as he had wished. His eyes flashed open as the girl’s axe swung towards him.

  Curie cowered, and yet, the coup de grace never came. He heard an unearthly scream as the zombie girl disappeared above him. Dana had somehow penetrated the zombie through her back with her wand.

  “Why?” screamed Curie.

  “Because you belong to me,” said Dana. “When your feeble heart gave up in your room way back when, it was me that saved you. Your soul was mine then, is now, and it will be forever.”

  “I wish you had just killed me.”

  Dana swiped the blood away on her wand and put in back in a pocket on her dress.

  “Now where would be the fun in that?”

  “The zombie…is she dead?”

  “More or less.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means, she’s not a problem for you any more.”

  “What about the other one?”

  “She’s not a problem for you either.”

  “I need to get to Redwood, Dana. If you are not going to kill me – again, then let me go.” Curie spat the last three words out through gritted teeth.

  Dana paused perhaps too long.

  “Dana, damn you. I’m dying here!” screamed Curie. He tried to drag himself forward by his fingertips, which were turning blue in the snow.

  Dana crouched down beside him. “Why do you need to get to Redwood? You’ll just go and work for him, there, won’t you? No no no no no. I can’t have that. He might just turn you against me.”

  “You need to stop her, that zombie creature. She’s the problem.”

  “She’ll be waiting for you at Redwood. No. You’re mine. You service me.”

  “She won’t be at Redwood,” said Curie, confidently.

  “Oh?”

  “She’s on her way to Rosewinter, the Winter’s wood-cabin, you know it. When she gets there, she’ll get her hands on the Mirror of Souls, and we will all pay for your incompetence.”

  “Now how would you know about that?”

  “The Winter girl, she’s got the Mirror, see. You need to go get it, or save me as you’re goddamnwell supposed to, and I’ll get it.”

  “I’m really quite sick of your language. I’m still eleven years old, you know.”

  Dana paused for a moment. If the Mirror was in safe hands, then there was no need for her to be concerned. If Curie got it, however, legions of Zerythra would be released, and she wouldn’t be able to contend with them all.

  Curie had failed in his thirteen kills. Maybe that’s what he intended all along. Either way he cut it, he knew his life was over.

  “We have a problem, Curie.”

  “What?”

  Still, the legend of Dana was that once she was summonsed, she had to kill, much like the Samurai. Those feared Japanese swordfighters only put their weapons back in their sheaths once the blade had tasted blood.

  “You know my story, don’t you? Now look at this wand. I jabbed it into our friend back there, and there’s no blood. Nothing. At. All. Now what would you do if you were me? Hmm? Hmm?”

  Dana jabbed the wand into Curie at different sections of his body.

  “What would you do?”

  She could kill Curie, this time for good. He’d been pretty useless at everything to date, and had he been a regular killer, if there was such a thing, he would be in jail by now. Still, Dana pitied him.

  Another option was to kill the Zeryth. One had gone in the direction of the Rosewinter house. The other, towards Redwood. But killing zombies would count for nothing. They were already dead, and staying that way. But it would mean that Diabhal would have to find another way to deposit a zombie, or a legion of zombies, to terrorise everyone.

  She could kill me, I suppose. After all, I had the Mirror, and I had the mark of someone who the Mirror was solely entrusted to. I could trap zombies, though I had only successfully done this one time and did not know if I could do it again.

  So, in the end, would Dana actually try to kill me? That would have unforeseen consequences. Who knows what would happen if the Mirror had no owner? I neglected to ask Nan who else had bore the mark. Apart from the fact that I didn’t want an early demise – I’d had a taste of that already, the Mirror had been used by one other person.

  Toril.

  Dana could kill Toril.

  Without a further word to Curie, because she had finished toying with him, Dana swished of wand, and transported Curie to Redwood.

  She then turned in the direction of the other large wood-cabin. Rosewinter.

  Forget Toril Withers.

  Dana, who seemed to be unbanishable by any force and impervious to any weapons man might have, decided she was coming for me.

  * * *

  Sometimes Toril Withers’ spells worked. On other occasions, they didn’t. But this time, it really needed to.

  I was about to strike down Alix Andrews. He was about to take the Mirror of Souls, and I could not let that happen.

  He had this wild, crazed look on his face. He pulled hard at the draw in which the Mirror was being kept safe. I knew he would be able to get it open, even if it meant trashing the dresser to do it.

  I knew this, because Alix did not look his old self. I couldn’t recall much about him, except to say that he looked good on the rugby field, and was always with Troy.

  Troy.

  I was about to kill his best friend. Girls who tend to do that to a guy’s best friend don’t end up becoming their girlfriend.

  I looked at my hands, which were now free of their gloves. At first, they looked normal, but as time went on, and I understood the Mirror more and more, I realised that the lines in my hands, wrists and forearms darkened. Still, you could see the blood moving through the veins. It was weird to look at, almost sickening, but sometimes I couldn’t stop myself.

  What was I becoming? Some kind of monster? Is this all I was capable of? Killing? I wondered if my Nan had ever killed someone using her hands like this.

  I looked at Alix with the most pleading facial expression I could muster, and begged him to loo
k at me.

  “Alix. Please. Don’t do this.”

  For just a moment, it seemed like I had gotten through to him.