by Marcus Brown
She ended the call and rushed into the walk-in wardrobe to find something suitable to wear.
*
By the time Tabitha arrived at Agricola Tower, the rain was lashing down in relentless torrents. She grabbed her umbrella and raincoat out of the car boot, cursing herself for not putting her coat on earlier.
The umbrella was useless against the howling wind and rain – within seconds it had turned inside out, and in temper, she cast it aside.
“What have we got, Kade?” Tabitha asked as she rushed under the white tent constructed to protect the crime scene.
“Female, twenty-two years of age.” He handed the victim’s wallet to Tabitha.
She took the wallet and opened it. “Driving licence confirms her name is Adele Allen. Any idea how she died?”
“Well, apart from the bloody big knife sticking out of her left eye, it looks like she was stabbed multiple times – look at the chest area.”
“Oh, no, the poor girl.” Tabitha looked down and flinched. The poor girl’s chest looked like something from a butcher’s slab. “How many times?”
“Impossible to tell right now, the damage is too severe.”
“We have to stop him, Kade,” she said.
“Agreed.”
“Any skin removed from this one?”
“I haven’t had a chance to check the body, and won’t until she’s moved to the morgue.”
Chapter Twenty
“Jeremiah, don’t test me or you’ll spend your remaining days in the stocks you were so fond of keeping Tamara and Talia imprisoned in,” Abigail threatened. “Tabitha is a clever witch and if you insist on goading her, she will come for us all with every ounce of power and force she can muster.”
Numen hovered close by in spirit form, and she could feel the air around crackle with tension.
“Mistress,” Numen said, gently.
“All is well, my friend,” she responded. “Jeremiah…”
“Then let her come,” Jeremiah responded, cutting in.
Abigail’s face twisted in fury. She wiggled her finger, muttering to herself and Jeremiah rose from the floor, his toes just touching the bare floorboards. He floated in front of her, paralysed, unable to break free from the invisible force holding him against his will.
Abigail looked up and struck him across the face, but his focus remained – his stare burning through her. “Do not test me, Blackwell,” she warned. “Or you won’t live to see that silly imbecile of a girl waiting back in Salem for you.”
“Do you really think I believe you’ve any intention of sending me back?” he asked, sarcastically. “How could I anyway, with this face?” he spat.
Tired of the constant arguments, she wiggled her finger again, and brought him down to her level, before forcing him to kneel. “If that face isn’t good enough for you, allow me to relieve you of it.”
She reached forward and dug her fingernails into the skin behind his ears. He screamed as the skin was ripped away, pulling chunks of not yet healed charred and burnt flesh with it.
Blood sprayed up at her, and she flicked her tongue briefly over her lips, enjoying the taste.
Jeremiah’s body shuddered as she continued to tear away his face, stitch by stitch. Even as he screamed, she continued to smile.
Digging her fingers deeper, she wanted to inflict as much pain on him as possible, and maybe then he would realise it was futile to go against her wishes. Blood poured from the wounds as inch by inch she pulled the transplanted face from his skull.
Once removed, she dropped the skin and chunks of flesh onto the floor by her feet, gore sticking to her designer shoes. With a look of disgust, she issued her final command before she was finished with him.
“Lick it off,” she said, trying hard not to laugh at him. She knew Jeremiah couldn’t answer her, that he was in too much pain, and grabbing the hair on his head, she forced his head close to her stained shoe. “Do it, or I’ll rip your tongue out,” she threatened.
“Mistress, enough,” Numen whispered.
She ignored her ghostly friend.
Pulling up a stool, she sat down on it. “I want to see how well you do it, Jeremiah.”
His tongue slipped out of his mouth. It looked decidedly eerie. The tongue flicking in and out of the lipless mouth. He reminded her of a reptile. Abigail watched, entranced as his purple tongue washed over her soiled shoe until it was spotlessly clean.
Numen circled closer to Abigail, and she could sense his unease. With a flick of her hand, he dissolved into atoms and dissipated into the air.
She stood up and flounced out of the room, leaving Jeremiah lying on the floor, his new face lying ghoulishly beside him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Kade was sat at his desk, reviewing the autopsy findings on Adele Allen.
The intensity and brutality escalating the more murders Jeremiah committed, but he was at a loss as to how to put a stop to him.
He picked up the phone and dialled Moonlight Manor.
“Hello,” Talia said.
“Tally, it’s me. Can you do me a favour?”
“Depends what it is,” she replied.
“Will you blink here and take me back to the Manor?”
“I’m not some supernatural taxi service, you know.”
“I wasn’t suggesting you were, but I need to get back as soon as possible. I’ve got the findings from the autopsy on the city walls murder.”
“Why don’t you drive back? I’ve got far too much to do.”
Just as he was about to go on the charm offensive, Tamara popped into his office, making him jump.
“Come on,” Tamara said. “You’ll wait forever if you wait for her to get you.”
He grabbed her hand and seconds later, they were standing in the kitchen at Moonlight Manor.”
“You spoil all my fun,” Tally said to her sister. “I would have gone for him.”
“Well, I’m home now, so it doesn’t matter. Where’s Tabi?”
“In the basement trying to summon Bridget Bishop.”
“Trying?” Trey asked.
“Yeah,” Tamara replied. “We’ve been trying for days, but nothing.”
“I need to get down there. Can one of you blink me?”
“It’s fine, Trey,” Tabitha said. “I’m here.”
“How did it go with Bridget?” Trey asked.
“No answer again. I’m worried.”
“Well, forget her for now. I’ve got the findings on Adele Allen.”
Tabitha and her sisters sat at the breakfast bar, eagerly awaiting the news.
“What did you find?”
“I think I know where your mother’s hiding,” he revealed.
“How?” Talia asked.
“Seems Jeremiah left us a small clue,” Trey teased.
“Don’t drag it out,” Tabitha said, sounding irritated.
“I found these lodged in the victim’s stomach,” he said, pulling out a small evidence bag with what held a small brass coloured key.
“Give me that here,” Tabitha said, snatching the bag. “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Talia added, in a pissed off tone. “Let me and Tammy in on it please.”
“This isn’t your average key, and I’d bet everything I owned, this is a high security key,” Tabitha guessed.
“Correct,” Trey replied.
“And?” Tamara said. “I’m confused.”
“Me too,” Talia added.
“It’s simple,” Tabitha replied. “High security keys have warding patterns that are patent protected to prevent unauthorised manufacturing.”
“I’m lost,” Talia added.
“Me too,” Tamara added.
“Keys to high security locks generally require a security card to be presented for a locksmith to duplicate keys, and in some cases, may also require a specialised key cutting machine, which basically means you can’t go to any locksmith and ask for a copy.”
“Ah,” Tamara and Talia said in unison.
“And did you have any luck tracking down where the key was used?” Tabitha asked, sounding hopeful.
“Sort of,” Trey replied. “I’m just waiting for confirmation, but I think the key is from the old Dewberry Inn just outside Ruthin in North Wales. The key has a logo inscribed onto it that I’ve seen before, and if I’m right, they’re hiding out there.”
“The guy that was murdered lived close to that place. I’ve driven past it so many times over the years, and you really think they’re hiding out there?”
“I’d stake my life on it, Tabitha.”
“But why?” Talia asked. “Why would Jeremiah give away their hiding place?”
“I’ll tell you why,” Tabitha added. “Mother’s lost control and he wants us to deal with her.”
“You can’t,” Tamara said. “Not until we speak to Bridget. You promised.”
“And I’ll keep that promise, but at least we know where they are, but we have to move quickly, or they might change locations.”
“I’ll head downstairs and try to summon Bridget,” Tamara added. She blinked and disappeared.
Chapter Twenty-two
The following morning, Abigail sat in the rocking chair, gazing out of the bedroom window.
The old hotel had beautiful grounds, and over the last few days, strangely enough, she’d begun to feel a re-connection to nature and her surroundings.
She placed her hand gently on her swollen stomach and hummed a lullaby.
“I know you’re in there,” she whispered, “But nobody else must know until the time is right.” She pulled the large cardigan around her, grateful it covered her growing stomach. It wouldn’t be long until both Jeremiah and Numen suspected she was with child. If her plan went the way she hoped, she’d be long gone before either of them guessed.
She cast her mind back to happier times and remembered being pregnant with Tabitha, Talia and Tamara. It was a happy time, and she spent hours talking and singing to them in the womb. She hadn’t carried full term, but her daughters were born healthy and happy. This time, she felt exactly the same – blessed, but cautious. Children were a gift from the Goddess, but why had this gift been bestowed upon her of all people, and now, after recent events? She knew she’d made terrible mistakes and innocents had lost their lives, but what did the Goddess have planned for her?
Abigail was certain of one thing – the Goddess would reveal her hand when the time was right.
Abigail looked down at her stomach. If her last pregnancy was anything to go by, carrying these triplets would be no different. In no time at all, she would be showing.
“I already have names for you, my little darlings. And soon, we’ll leave this place and spend eternity together in peace.” She patted her stomach and felt a sense of calm wash over her. “I just wish you could know your sisters.”
Chapter Twenty-three
The sisters were sitting in the garden, enjoying the sunshine.
Trey had convinced Tabitha to take a few days off. She’d worked flat out since returning after the attack, and was dangerously close to burning herself out.
“This is nice,” Tamara said, delicately sipping from her wine glass. “All of us together again with no worries.”
Talia peeked at her sister over her designer sunglasses. “Really?”
“Don’t spoil it, Tally,” Tamara warned.
A gust of wind blew across the garden causing the branches to sway.
The sisters looked at one another.
“The Goddess,” Tabitha said, jumping up.
“It’s just the wind,” Tamara added. “Let’s just relax. It’s been ages since we last had a few drinks without anything to worry about.”
“Come,” the voice called.
They all heard it, a whisper in the wind, and turned to look at one another.
Tabitha held her hands out, her sisters taking hold as they blinked into the dimly lit corridor in the cellar.
Abigail’s old prison was to the left of them, and further down on the right, the room they’d magically sealed off.
It was that very room that allowed Jeremiah into the manor, so he was able to kidnap Tamara and Talia.
“I don’t know if it’s just me, but I feel odd being down here now Jeremiah has been here,” Talia said, shuddering.
“Me too,” Tamara added.
“That doesn’t bother me,” Tabitha replied. “It makes me sad Rigby and Sandison died because of that room.”
Nothing more was said as Tabitha led the way to the room at the end of the corridor.
She pushed the door open and standing in the centre of the candles was Bridget Bishop.
“Where’ve you been?” Tamara asked, stepping forward. “We’ve been calling for you for days now.”
“I’m not a dog, Tamara Crockworthy, to be summoned at your will.”
“I’m sorry, Bridget,” Tamara said. “I meant no disrespect.”
“Oh, sod this,” Talia chimed in. “I’m not pandering to you, Bridget Bishop. Just say what you need to and piss off back to wherever you came from.”
“Talia,” Tabitha cried, stepping forward. “Bridget, I apologise.”
“Don’t apologise for me,” Talia roared. “I’ve told you…”
Bridget rolled her eyes, then with a wave of her hand, Talia’s mouth continued to move, but no sound passed her lips -- she was mute. Her eyes darted back and forth, her face twisted in rage, knowing she’d been silenced.
“There’s not enough time in the universe to deal with her tantrums,” Bridget said. She turned to look at Talia and raised an eyebrow. “Be thankful, I haven’t glued your lips together, wretched little witch.”
Talia’s posture screamed defiance.
“Has the Goddess made a decision?” Tabitha asked, trying not to antagonise the situation any further.
“Yes,” Bridget replied.
“What is it?” Tamara asked, crossing her fingers.
“Abigail Crockworthy must not be harmed.”
“Oh, thank the Goddess,” Tamara added. “Thank you, Bridget, but how did you convince her to change her mind.”
“Your mother is with child, and is not to be harmed. That is the will of the Goddess.”
“Pregnant?” Tabitha exclaimed. “You’re kidding me? To who?” Tabitha couldn’t believe what she was hearing and looked to her sisters.
“I don’t know the specifics, but with child your mother certainly is. You know as much as I do on the matter, but children are sacred. Neither mother nor child is to be harmed. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Tabitha replied. “We’d never consider harming a child.”
“Thank the Goddess,” Tamara replied. “You don’t have to kill Mother, Tabi.”
“Make no mistake, as much as she deserves it, your mother escapes her death sentence, but you must find a way of binding her to Moonlight Manor and ensure she never leaves. Once you’ve achieved that task and she gives birth, you will take the child and raise it as your own, but Abigail must be locked away, and never set eyes upon the child again. That is her punishment.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Bridget said her goodbyes and departed.
The sisters gazed at one another. No words were needed to convey their feelings, but Tamara spoke defiantly.
“I won’t do it,” she said.
“Me neither,” Talia said. “As much as I hate mother, I won’t steal her child and lock her away.”
“What choice do we have?” Tabitha asked. “The decision is made.”
“No, it isn’t made,” Tamara argued, her anger building. “You made the decision to allow Trey to return and traded our mother’s life for your love life. Me, and Talia made no such deal.”
“That’s not fair, Tammy,” Tabitha replied.
“Hang on one minute,” Talia interjected. “What Tammy says is one hundred percent fair. For Trey to stay here, we have to lock our mother away, again, then take her ch
ild away from her. I won’t do it either and I’ll stop you if I have to, Tabitha.”
“Mother doesn’t care about us,” Tabitha replied. “Why are you on her side all of a sudden?”
“And, so what if she doesn’t care?” Tamara raised her voice. “If we do this, we’ll be no better than she is, and I won’t have that on my conscience, and nor will I lie to my new sister or brother about who his or her real mother is.”
“I can’t lose Trey,” Tabitha admitted.
“And we won’t betray our mother,” Talia said, gripping Tamara’s hand, “or our new sibling, but if you choose to do this, we’ll leave Moonlight Manor, and if we live for another thousand years, we’ll never speak another word to you.”
Tamara and Talia nodded their heads in agreement and blinked out of the room.
Chapter Twenty-five
Tabitha stood alone in the room.
She didn’t know what to think, or what to do for the best.
If she didn’t obey the Goddess, she would lose Trey, but if she allowed Trey to stay, she would lose her sisters.
She needed to speak with Trey before she decided anything, but a large part of her knew he would not be party to what the Goddess wanted, and would rather face death again.
Pulling out her phone, she pressed the redial button, but there was no signal. She wandered into the corridor, waving her phone in the air.
At first, she thought she’d imagined the tapping sound, and forgetting the phone call for the moment, she gazed up and down the corridor, wondering where it was coming from.
She pressed her ear to the sealed room, but heard nothing. Wandering up to her mother’s old room, she pressed her ear against that door and listened intently, but once against, nothing.
“Silly cow,” she said out loud. “Now you’re hearing things.”
A small part of her worried it was an after effect of the attack from Jeremiah, but she had more important things to worry about.
Rushing up the cellar steps and out of the manor, she jumped into her car and headed for Trey’s office building.
*
“Knock, knock,” Tabitha said as she stepped into Trey’s office.
