Fallen Stones

by Thomas M. Malafarina

  It was as if she were living in a dream world, where people and things were not cohesive and changed fluidly from one moment to another, depending upon the direction the dream seemed to take. Perhaps that was why she didn’t fear the hideous creatures or could not concretely identify the thing in her arms. Perhaps in the dream she believed she was having, nothing was real and everything was simply symbolic. It all seemed to make perfect sense, because it made no sense. And it made no sense because it made perfect sense.

  But one thing she did know was that it was her job to bring this boy or doll or unidentifiable package to the well, to Dwight and Marie Livingston. Stephanie wondered if the package was to be sacrificed in order that she would have revenge on her unfaithful husband, Dwight. No, she thought. Her husband's name was Jason, and Marie’s husband’s name was Dwight. Or was it Marie’s husband who was named Jason and her husband who was named Dwight? Stephanie wasn't even sure who she was let alone who her husband might be, if she even had one. Sometimes she thought one thing then a moment later she thought another. Perhaps she was no longer Stephanie or Marie but had evolved into some new type of being; a conjoining of two separate beings: one living, one dead. Perhaps she was some new type of hybrid species.

  But whatever or whoever she was or was not, she knew what she had to do and understood that once the thing she carried was placed in the well everything would be all right. The circle of blood would be completed. That is what the voices inside her befuddled mind told her so no matter how confused she might seem, it had to be the right thing for her to do.

  As Stephanie approached the well, the creature she thought of as Marie Livingston raised her arms high in the air and began speaking in a loud and unearthly voice.

  "We have waited for this night for almost a century. It has taken that long for the circle of blood to be completed. Dwight Livingston and I have been unwillingly bound together in death because of a curse placed upon us long ago by his sister, Amelia Miller.

  "In this unfortunate union, he is in the role of master and I, his servant. I present this information at the behest of my master, Dwight Livingston. But neither of us is content in these roles and we have tried unsuccessfully all of these years to find a way to free ourselves of each other. And not only do we wish to be free of each other, but also free of this torturous limbo in which our tormented souls have been forced to exist. To watch others live their lives while we wallow in anguish. It is the act of existing, without existence, living without life and dying without death.

  "We believe we have finally found a means to break the bonds which hold our souls captive and to accomplish this we must sacrifice the life of the one who can complete the circle of blood. And those who gave life to the child must also die in a manner similar to our own deaths so many years ago."

  "Samuel Jason Wright, born on this day, December 19, is he who has completed the circle. The child carries the blood of Dwight Livingston, present in him from both his mother and his father. As such, he must be sacrificed on this night exactly ninety years from the date when Matthew James Livingston, Charles Edward Livingston, Marie Louise O'Hara Livingston and Dwight Charles Livingston died on this very same property, the Livingston Family Homestead.

  "When the child dies it must be by his own mother's hand; that woman being Stephanie Sage Washburn Wright. The child's father Jason John Wright will then go mad with rage and will murder his wife before succumbing to remorse and taking his own life. This was how it happened so many years ago and how it must happen tonight. The parties gathered with me are here to assure that the ceremony of the blood circle is carried out before midnight, as it must be.

  "Stephanie Sage Washburn Wright. Present the child, Samuel Jason Wright for submergence in the sacrificial well."

  Stephanie lifted Sammy in the air directly in front of her and for the first time since leaving the loft, looked into his dark brown pleading eyes. Those eyes said, "Please, Mommy, don't do this. I love you, Mommy". She saw the sentiment in his expression and practically could hear the words in her head. Then she heard the boy’s pleading. “Pease Mommy” he said pitifully. Stephanie began to feel like some force was playing tug-of-war with her mind. At one moment she was unaware of the child she held in her arms, then a moment later, she began to recognize him as her son. She struggled with her emotions upon hearing his tiny voice calling to her as if from the back of a long tunnel. “Pease Mommy” she heard him say.

  Slowly, the recognition became clearer and the other voices, once trying to control her, began to fade. The creatures had made a critical mistake by not continuing to maintain control of Sammy. They had no idea how special he was.

  His voice was able to surpass their sinister control. His love for his mother had broken through the fog which surrounded her. And for the first time in what seemed like months, she was starting to feel like herself once more.

  She looked over and saw the dreadful mob of beings now understanding not only what they were, but what their horrible plan was. She looked into the eyes of her son then held him tightly to her breast whispering, "Oh, Sammy. Oh my sweet baby boy. My poor son. Mommy loves you so, so much. I promise I would never do anything to hurt you my sweet, sweet baby boy."

  Stephanie looked defiantly at the ghost of her great grandmother and shouted, "I know who I am now, and I now know who and what you are. I also know my husband Jason is a good man and not like your unfaithful husband Dwight. He could never do such a thing to me, and I could never ever lift a finger to hurt either Sammy or Jason. So all of you might as well give up your plans and go away, because I will never help you."

  Marie Livingston let out an ear-splitting wail of anger and frustration. Dwight turned and looked angrily at Marie as if to indicate she had failed him. Marie suddenly bent over screaming as if suddenly racked with incredible agony.

  "You know what you must do, woman," Dwight bellowed in a voice that shook the air like thunder. "You must do what she cannot do. You must complete the circle of blood, no matter the cost."

  Marie stood upright to the best of her ability and Stephanie could see the look of fear on her face. She was terrified of Dwight and could do nothing to hide her terror. She pointed an unsteady hand at Stephanie, summoning all of her strength. Stephanie felt herself lose control of her motor functions. She held Sammy out in front of her, his eyes now filled with a new terror. She wanted to set him down and tell him to run away, but she was powerless to do so. It was apparent to her that Marie was now completely in charge of Stephanie’s body. Then one shuffling step at a time, Stephanie began to walk closer to the well. She tried to fight against the force, but was helpless to do so.

  Marie screamed, "I told you the circle had to be completed, and it must be. If you will not willingly kill the boy yourself, then I will force you to kill him. Your beloved Jason will not know the difference. He will find you with the body, mumbling like a mad woman, and he will assume you murdered your son. Then he will kill you and finally take his own life. It has been preordained and so it must be."

  Resist as she might, Stephanie continued to shuffle forward, tears streaming down her face, practically freezing on her cheeks in the frigid night air. She would rather die herself that let anything happen to Sammy but was powerless to stop herself.

  Marie Livingston bellowed, "I command you to throw the boy into the well and kill him."

  From somewhere in the darkness behind her Stephanie heard a voice shout, "The hell you do, you rotten old bitch!"

  Chapter 39

  Jason ran from the shadows out into the light. He pointed an accusing finger at the phantom Marie Livingston, and shouted "No! No more! Get away from my family, you unholy sow!" Startled by Jason's outburst, the ghost lost her control over Stephanie. Then the creature suddenly realized there was more to her losing focus than simple shock or surprise; there was something about this man, Jason Wright, that had instantly depleted her strength and had taken away her ability to possess the woman. Stephanie turned and with Sammy held tigh
tly against her chest, stumbled back toward her husband. Jason wrapped his comforting arms tightly around his wife and son.

  "Steph! Honey! Are you alright?" he asked struggling to sound calm and reassuring.

  She replied tearfully, "Y...y...yes...now...I think...thanks to you." Then she pressed her head against his shoulders and cried in his arms, "Oh my God. Jason, what has happened? What's wrong with me? I can't seem to remember anything...just bits and pieces...like a bad dream. What in the name of God have I done? And what are those horrible creatures?"

  Jason kissed her forehead and said, "Shhh. Steph. Don't worry. I'm here, and now everything will be all right. I don't really understand all of this or know exactly what happened, but I swear I won't let anyone or anything hurt you or Sammy."

  "Mommy cwy," Sammy said, obviously concerned about his mother.

  "Yes, Sammy," Jason said reassuringly. “Mommy is crying, but she won't cry anymore because her big man Sammy is here to protect her from those bad people." He pointed over at the specters that appeared to be waiting for something.

  Then for the first time, Jason looked directly at the unearthly gathering of demonic spirits taking in the details of each of them. It was only the briefest of glances, but the ungodly sites he saw would be burned into his memory for as long as he lived; whether that was for sixty more years or sixty more seconds. And at this point in time, Jason had an understanding that his life could literally be over in minutes.

  The first creature he noticed was the one he had accosted, the wretched Marie Livingston. The madness was still present in her long-dead eyes.

  He then saw the visage of his dead lawyer, H. Mason Armstrong standing next to Marie's right and looking much as he had the day Jason saw him in the field by the back of the property.

  Standing behind Armstrong was an image Jason knew had to be that of Emerson Washburn. Although this being no longer resembled the photos Stephanie had found of the big man.

  A charred, skeletal figure stood next to Washburn. Jason had no idea who or what this being might be as his hideous form was scarcely recognizable as ever being human. There was a thick length of rusted chain which passed right through the creature's neck bones, down its chest and into Washburn's hand. It suggested to Jason that whoever the pathetic creature had been in life, it was now the slave of Emerson Washburn.

  Finally, Jason's eyes settled on the being, which he determined must be the master of the macabre assemblage. It was some warped and unimaginable incarnation of Dwight Livingston. Although Jason realized he and his family could be in grave danger from any single one of the creatures before him, he believed Dwight Livingston might pose the greatest threat. He was obviously the leader and as such would likely be the most powerful.

  Jason's first instinct was to take his family and flee as far from these horrible beings as possible; to turn and run, never looking back. But he realized such an action would be futile. These creatures, these demons, had somehow controlled and manipulated events not only locally but had done so over a distance of more than fifty miles. He had no idea how far he and his family might have to run to escape their control; if they could escape the horrid creatures at all. No. Jason realized he would have to face the horrible undead, unholy beings right there and then or else he and his family could never hope to be safe again. He was going to have to find a way to drive them back into the hell from which they came and he was going to have to do so permanently, or die trying.

  Anxiety took Jason in its grip as he comprehended their plight. He was an engineer, a man of logic. He had never believed in ghosts, spirits or any of the other supernatural mumbo-jumbo, which seemed to pollute pop culture. Jason knew he was about as ill prepared to go up against such creatures as anyone could imagine. But he also knew he had no choice but to do whatever was necessary to protect his family. If that meant he would have to die this night, then by God, he would do so fighting. He had too much to live for but would gladly sacrifice his own life and even his immortal soul, if that’s what it took to save Stephanie and Sammy. He had no idea, however, what it was he could possibly do to fight against beings that were already dead.

  "Jason John Wright," Dwight Livingston abruptly bellowed from his side of the menacing well. "You must bring the woman, Stephanie Sage Wright and the boy Samuel Jason Wright to us. I command it, and you must obey my will."

  Jason felt a tugging sensation inside of his skull as if he were being compelled against his will to obey the specter’s command. But then he suddenly realized he didn’t have to do as Livingston ordered. He could resist the creature’s psychic pull; he did have a choice. He could feel the force of the strange specter trying to influence his own body into doing its bidding, but Jason apparently had some previously unrecognized power of his own, as he was still in control of his actions. He could also tell by the strange look, which suddenly appeared on Dwight Livingston’s face, that the ghoul was equally surprised to discover he could not control Jason. Dwight's face contorted with displeasure, and the attitude of confidence he originally displayed began to wane. Although Jason was not exactly sure what all of this might mean, he did unexpectedly get an idea, which he thought might be their only way out of the deadly situation.

  "Steph," Jason said, "I have an idea. And I think I may be right; at least I hope I’m right. Listen. No matter what you hear or see. Try not to be afraid of them. I think that might be part of the secret of how we can beat them. I think they live on the fear and the hatred of others. That’s why they tried to pit us against each other. They need us to be at odds with each other and not united. Because I suspect with the three of us here together and combined as one force they can't control us."

  Stephanie looked perplexed for a moment as if thinking about something then said, "I think you're right, Jason. I can feel them trying to take back control…of me…of my body…like they did before…but they can't seem to do it. When it was just me they could, but now I don’t think they can."

  “Keep fighting them, Steph,” Jason urged. “We can beat them together. I know we can. We love each other, and nothing is stronger than that. I’m sure of it. ”

  "You will bring the bitch and the child to me now!" Dwight shouted across the distance, his form was twitching and moving erratically like an old silent movie film as were the rest of the creatures. Jason could see something was now very different about the ghosts; something was happening to them, but Dwight still tried to assert his control: "You will do as I command or I swear I will order you all to rip out your own eyes and swallow them while we watch with pleasure!"

  Fueled by a newfound confidence, Jason pointed his finger at Dwight once again and shouted, "Screw you, Livingston. Any powers you believe you have are now useless against us. We are a strong and unified force of unconditional love, and you can do nothing to harm us. You’ve existed without love for so long you have forgotten its power and its strength. We don’t fear you, Dwight Livingston, nor do we fear any of your pitiful minions. We don't even acknowledge your right to exist."

  Then Jason decided to push even harder, "We laugh at you as the pathetic lost souls you’ve become. You’re all destined to spend your eternities in pain and torment because of the sins you’ve committed in your lives. My wife's soul is pure; my son's soul is pure and so is mine. And together we are immune to your ridiculous commands.

  "We may have the blood of Dwight Livingston flowing through our veins, but we have souls which are uncorrupted. And you pitiable creatures don’t have the power to separate us ever again. Jason shouted one taunt after another not even certain what he was doing, but he could tell that the more he showed his strength and lack of fear, the more disturbed the spirits appeared to get.

  Then all of the ghosts began to howl like banshees and wale as if in the throes of agony. They continued to twitch and gyrate as if being hit with painful bolts of lightning. Jason realized he was definitely on the right track and decided he would continue to taunt the demons until they either fled or hopefully were somehow
destroyed.

  He shouted at the jerking group of hell-spawned demons, "I, Jason John Wright, illegitimate great grandson of Dwight Livingston, with the strength of my family’s love now possess the power. And as such, I command all of you miserable creatures to go now and return to whatever corner of Hell you have arisen from. I order you to leave me and my family alone forever."

  The specters were all contorting and screaming as if Jason's words were hitting them like a barrage of bullets one after another. Fresh blood began to ooze from each of the creatures’ wounds. The gashes began to rip open further allowing more of the sickening blackish crimson fluid to flow.

  Then a sound like that of thousands of buzzing insects was emanating from the opening of the well as suddenly an enormous black cloud made up of swarms of some type of tiny blackish flies flew from the fiery pit encircling the creatures then boring deep into their freshly weeping sores.

  One of the insects flew close to Jason’s face, and before it flew away a second later, he saw it clearly in all of its horror. The thing’s body was similar to that of the type of fly Jason had seen many times before around garbage or dead animals; a mix of blue, green, black and other colors giving its skin the impression of an oil slick on a puddle of water. Its legs were double the length of a normal fly and appeared to have long, talons on the ends of tiny humanoid fingers.

  Its hideous face was by far its most disturbing feature, resembling that of a balding old man with wispy grey hair, segmented insectile eyes and two long ram-like horns curving back from a hairless forehead. Its mouth was much too large for hits head, disproportionately oversized and was filled with hundreds of long pointy needle-like teeth. That single second of observation seemed like an eternity to Jason, and he was relieved when the creature flew away to return to the swarm, obviously not interested in either he or his family.