A Wistful Tale of Gods, Men and Monsters

by David Ruggerio

  “Atsi…to what?

  “Will you listen, you need to confront her and simply say; Atsi’tsiaka:ion, you are a skin-walker! And about three days later that person would either get sick or die for the wrong that they have committed.” (3) He then dove deeper into the book, “Now for the bad news, in its human form, it is virtually impossible to kill a skin-walker, in other words, when it’s the beast will be your best chance.”

  . . .

  Jane yelled up to the two who were still huddled inside Lilly’s bedroom, “I’m running out to buy more candy for tomorrow.”

  “Mom, get me some KitKats, just in case I get a lot of candy corn tomorrow.” Lilly turned to William, “God, I hate candy corn.” Lilly ran to the window, waiting to see that her mother’s car was a safe distance away. “Come on, let’s go in my backyard and practice with the gun.”

  “I do…don’t ne…need practice.”

  “Oh no? I suppose you’re Billy the Kid now.” William reached over and pinched her side, “Aww, stop fooling around. Let’s go down to my kitchen, eat some cereal, and then go in my backyard to practice.”

  Feeling hen-pecked at eleven, William looked up at the ceiling and took a deep sigh, “Okay…”

  Lilly handed him the milk as the two wolfed down a quick breakfast of cereal and sliced bananas. She pulled the revolver from her bag; it was much heavier than she ever imagined. William demanded, “Le…let me s…see th…that.” He seemed more at ease with the weapon, although it was the first time, he ever held a real one. He swung around on the chair, aiming it at photos of Lilly that were hung on the refrigerator with an array of magnets. “I’m go…going to sh…shoot you be…between the eyes,” the two laughed. As William held the gun close to his face, he looked for any inscriptions that might tell him where the safety was. He turned the gun up and down; it must be here somewhere. As he got familiar with it, a sudden shadow flashed in the kitchen window catching Lilly’s attention, she glanced over, but there was nothing. “Come on William; let me see for a moment.”

  “One se…second.” William thought how cool it would be to scare the daylights out of Rex and his bunch with the gun. He could hide it in his locker, and when Rex approached him at the end of the school day, he would end his daily nightmare. If that didn’t scare him enough, maybe he would just shoot him in the foot. A flash at the window startled Lilly, but again there was nothing there. William then noticed a small steel button on the side; he pushed it forward, “Th…that’s th…” Lilly glanced again at the window and was so frightened that she slid backward off the chair. There standing, glaring ominously in the window was Anne Justice. She had a weird grin; her tongue was at the side of her mouth, and her eyes were slits, barely showing their fiery red tone. Lilly’s gaze was fixed on the window, while William’s back was to it, she waved her hand wildly in the air trying to tap him on the shoulder, “William, it…it’s Her. Quick its Anne in the window!” William whirled around, and as he did, the revolver simultaneously pointed itself in the direction of Anne and her baleful gaze. Knowingly, or unknowingly, William in a state of panic pulled the trigger. The roar of the gun startled the three of them. Both children fell to the floor from the percussion, a split-second later the two jumped up, but Anne was gone. The kitchen window was shattered in a million pieces. Lilly grabbed his hand and the two scurried to the safety of her room. She pushed the chair again firmly under the doorknob, and both hid in the bottom of her closet. Neither could breath, it felt as if someone was choking them. The absolute horror completely paralyzed them, and the more William thought about running away, or simply moving a bit, the more he felt discouraged and utterly terrified. William kept vigil; the gun pointed up at the thin glimmer of light that came through the closet doors. The two sat there silently for ten minutes (it seemed more like an hour). There was then an abrupt slamming of the front door. The two looked at each other, the monster had gotten in! The two grasped each other in utter fright. The silence was suddenly pierced, “Kids, I’m back, and I have KitKats!”

  . . .

  ‘I’m sure it was Rex Herkimer.”

  “Well I’m going to call the sheriff; how dare he throw a snowball and break my window.” The two children peered into each other’s eyes, that was the story, and both had to stand by it. Lilly leaned towards William and whispered; “Pinky swear?” he nodded in accordance. With her mother in the room, Lilly finally had the courage to look out the window and see how much blood was left. As she reached up on the kitchen counter, Jane with the phone in hand, poked her from behind, “Honey, what are you doing? You’ll cut yourself on the glass.” Lilly then waved William along; they’d simply go out the back door and see what damage they had inflicted. The two held hands as they neared the back, Casper leaped down from the tree, scaring the two to death. He purred as he rubbed the side of his head along Lilly’s pants. They regained their composure and tiptoed to the area. As they neared the kitchen window, the two were fixed with fear by what they didn’t find. Not only was there no blood, but there were also no footprints in the snow. “Do you th…think it w…was all our ima…imagination?” As they looked closer, they discovered a line of tracks headed towards the forest, but as the two looked even closer, they were stunned. Yes, they were footprints, but they weren’t human.

  CHAPTER 21

  THE BABYSITTER

  One who is wise is cautious and turns away from evil,

  but a fool is reckless and careless.

  -Proverbs 14:16

  Jane cut a large piece of cardboard to cover the broken window in the kitchen. The sheriff had his hands full, he didn’t say why, but he assured her that he would be by later to look at what Herkimer had done now. Tom was especially angered, with all that was going on; he needed Rex and his shenanigans like a hole in the head.

  Bessy cried out, “damn it, sheriff, your trekking snow through the office!” He turned and flashed a grin, “it’s good to be the king!” She huffed and grumbled, carrying a freshly brewed cup of hot coffee, she followed him into his office. “Sheriff, they’re going to have the burial of Rebecca Hibler the day after Halloween. I’m going to bake some cinnamon rolls and bring them over.” Tom thought silently, cinnamon rolls? A girl is slaughtered, and all you can think of is cinnamon rolls? “Listen, Bessy, can you please get Mrs. Herkimer on the phone.”

  “Has Rex been up to no good again?”

  “You can say that.”

  . . .

  Jane lifted the receiver and instantly recognized the voice of Anne, “How are you, Jane? I just wanted to stop by and pick up William.”

  “Pick him up? What happened at your house? Is James ok?”

  “James is just fine.”

  “But I was there, there was so much blood.”

  “James slipped and smashed his nose on the front door. He bled all over the porch.”

  “Anne, why doesn’t William stay here till, after Halloween, the kids are having such fun together.” Suddenly Jane could feel coldness through the line, Anne’s voice became deeper, “Jane my dear, bring William home.” Jane didn’t know how to respond, her silence just enraged Anne further, “Listen to me you bitch, bring him to me!” That was enough for Jane; she slammed the phone down and called the kids. “What’s up Mom?”

  “Get your coats; we’re going out for a while.” She didn’t want to alarm them, but at the same time she was genuinely afraid of Anne and didn’t want to be a sitting duck. “Let’s go to the corn maze and pick up a few more pumpkins for tomorrow.” The two answered in unison, “Yay!”

  . . .

  Tom and Jessup headed over to visit Beverly at St. Paul’s Potions. “What brings you two today.” Beverly couldn’t hide her no “r” New England accent. There was an inert swagger to her, being born in South
Boston. But her upbringing in Salem gave her that Gothic feel. At one point in her life, her path was a literary one, having studiously acquired her master’s from Boston College in English literature. But after a decade aimlessly editing boring human- interest stories for the Herald, written by inferior writers, she dropped it all to become a witch; didn’t everyone? At forty-one, she had not yet married, making many guess she was gay. She had rolled in the hay with a few women, but her real zeal was for men. It was finally a bad relationship with a man that caused her to move far away and open the shop she had desired for years. She was consuming a Nora Roberts novel as the two entered the shop, “Jessup and I were wondering if you had corn pollen.” She turned and slid a tall wooden ladder that was attached to a railing system; she climbed six feet high and brought down a large glass jar filled with the yellow powder. “Jessup looked closer, “We’ll take it all.”

  “You two want it all?” What are you going to do with that much?”

  The two smiled, politely ignoring her inquiry, Tom asked, “How about ground juniper and cedar ash?”

  “Wait a minute; are you two hunting a lycanthrope?”

  Jessup jumped, “N…no, well, no.”

  Beverly flashed a devilish grin, “You two can’t-fool me, don’t you know that I’m from Salem?” She waited for a visible response, “I’m a Wiccan. Been one since I was twelve.” The two just stood with their mouths wide open, “If you are hunting a lycanthrope, you need me.” She reached from beneath the counter and pulled out an old, leather-bound book that had a weathered ribbon tightly tied around it. The cover gold script that read; The Book of Shadows. “When I was sixteen, I left home and entered a coven in Salem. We have dealt with lycanthrope before.” Before the two could say no, while closing her eyes, she dusted the three with the golden powder, chanting a few words under her breath. Her brashness paralyzed the two of them. She grabbed a saddlebag, packed her book, the necessary powders, and potions and went to the door. She turned the Open sign over, and turned to them, “Aren’t you two coming?”

  . . .

  She felt no pain; it was a feeling that had been forgotten for more than a thousand years. She stood unclothed in the bathroom mirror. Her skin had begun to pale; her breast wasn’t as vibrant as before. The black mane was now becoming straw-like and brittle. She was aging rapidly. It was time.

  The hole on her right shoulder that the bullet had caused was already healing. She felt it, putting her lengthy index finger deep inside. There was coagulated blood on her elongated curved nail, she put it close and sniffed. Hmm, then licking it off; she savored even her own blood. The anger in her mind caused the currents to strengthen, whirlpools and eddies created vibrant waves of reverie, thinking clearly when so enraged was troublesome. The image of those two children, she could taste the fear on their faces, how dare they shoot at her. She turned insane again; her head hung low, an ominous rasping vibration boiled over from the depths of her body. She knew to calm herself; she had to think clearly. Surely those two had told Jane what happened by now. That bitch Jane couldn’t fool her. She would savor her blood too; no one would be spared her rancor. Anne knew she shouldn’t remain in the house; someone would be coming for her. Besides she needed to plan for tonight, she would refresh her soul after dark. Balin had assured her that he could find the perfect young girl for the sacrifice. After the All Hallowtide, with her youthfulness and strength reinvigorated, she would seek revenge for murdering her mate.

  . . .

  Jane was just clearing the dinner plates. She looked at her watch; it was eight and a half hours ahead in Afghanistan. Ten minutes till Lilly and she were to speak with Thom. With all the drama, Thom was beginning to become a distant memory for both.

  “Ar…are you su…sure your mom no…not going to ki…kill us?”

  “She won’t check on us till eight-forty-five, it’s six now, that gives us nearly three hours to hunt the monster. I figured the best place is the last place it killed, the graveyard.” As Lilly said those words, William’s heart skipped a beat. He swore to himself that he would never go back, let alone at night. “Li…lilly, ma…maybe we sh…should look someplace else.”

  “Are you being a scaredy-cat again?”

  “Ye…yes I am!”

  “What are you worried about, we have the gun, and you already wounded it once.”

  “Li…lly, you kn…know wh…what they say about wo…wounded animals.”

  As they neared the part of the gate that had fallen, their flashlights could barely pierce the blackness within. The full moon above was a bright, blood red color., “William, did you ever see the moon such a red color?”

  “No, it lo…looks like bl…blood. I read ab…about it; its ca…called a bl…blood moon. It the ti…time when we…we…werewolves come out.”

  “Good! Then we won’t have far to look.”

  William gave an exasperated look, “Women!” Before entering, they scoured the depths of the burial grounds with their flashlights, the beams bounced from stone to stone, all standing erect in silence to the left and right, in front and behind, like a sea of the dead. Lilly handed William her light as she removed the pistol from her backpack. The glimmer of the steel made their eyes widen, not as much from the fear of the gun, but rather what the gun was now meant for. She struggled with it for a second, finally surrendering it to William. Taking no chances, William clicked the safety off, he held the gun high as an owl spooked the two with a loud welcome to the graveyard, Hoo…hoo…hoo…The two looked at each other and snickered, “Aw, it’s only an owl.” Lilly pointed in the direction of the mausoleum, “I think that’s where the little girl was killed.” William’s memory of another little girl was still frightfully fresh in his memory, he was hesitant to move. As his eyes frantically searched for the mist, Lilly gave him a shove in the back, “Hey, don’t push.”

  “Well move then.”

  “I’m moving, I’m moving.” As they passed the statue of the headless girl, a chilling wind swept through the cemetery, whipping a powdery billow of yesterday’s snow whirling about, creating a fanciful dance of ghosts and ghouls gliding momentarily above their heads. William’s free hand was clenched so tightly, he was digging his nails into his palm. Their feet made a crunching noise in the snow, making stealth advance impossible. Breathing became rapid and shallow; an icy fear overwhelmed their young bodies, making them feel exhausted and incredibly vulnerable. As they inched their way forward, prodding each other, things became deadly silent; and then, a crack of a small branch, just beyond their lights, caused their hearts to stop beating. The silence was deafening. Lilly grabbed William by the shoulder, “William, I changed my mind, let’s get out of here.” He certainly didn’t need much coaxing, as they spun around, a dark form leaped out from behind the tree. The two lost their footing and fell back into the snow, the gun, which was tossed up into the air, hit the side of a tombstone and fired. The flash of its muzzle briefly lit the surroundings, allowing them to see the contorted face of their foe. Both let out an ungodly scream. The dark form reached for the them, they scampered to escape, slipping and sliding, Lilly violently kicking at it as it grabbed wildly at the two children. The panic caused them to squeal as it grabbed hold of them both. It pulled them close and growled, “Begosh and begorrah, so what’s the craic with you two boyles? And wit a gun no less.” He held them close, “My my, is that not the little Willowsby boy, aren’t you?”

  William was so frightened the words were difficult, “Y…y…ye…”

  Banger shouted, “Goddamn you boy, speak up!”

  Lilly came to his defense, “Don’t you yell at him!”

  “Now tell me here, what are you planning with that weapon?”

  Lilly answered brazenly, “We’re hunting the monster, and we’re going to kill it!”

>   “Now, now little one, ole Banger here is not about to let that happen.” He held the two with one hand as he reached down into the snow; he brushed the pistol off on his pants and put it into his pocket. “So, I guess it was you two buggers that did it some harm yesterday,” as he said those words, his eyes turned red and his voice ominous. “Now you don’t think I’m going to allow you two little shits to hurt her any further, do you?” His skin became gray and scaly, “Hunt her you will, how about I bring you both to her now, I think young missy here will do to fill her needs quite nicely.” The depths of truth behind his statement horrified the two. Here was an adult that didn’t need any convincing, but yet he knew. My God they thought, he knew! “Lis…listen Mr. Banger, ju…just let us g…go, and we wo…” At that Lilly reached over and with all her might, punched Banger in the groin. Banger let go his grip on the two, doubling over in agony, “You little shit!”

  “Quick William, run!” The two ran as fast as their young legs would carry them. The chilly autumn night air did little to cool the burning in their lungs, but they wouldn’t even chance to look back. As they neared the front door of Lilly’s house, they could hear a haunting voice off in the distance, “Sleep well my biddies, I’ll be coming for you two.”

  . . .

  Our three fearless beast hunters stopped by Martha’s to warm-up with some fresh coffee and begin a plan of attack. As they entered, they found Bangor leaning over the counter, ear to ear with Martha. It seemed that they were in serious discussions. Martha kept repeating, “It must be done tonight.” Tom was just the friendly village constable, “Banger, how’s everything?”

  He turned and with a pale grin, “Oh Sheriff, I’m in great form, thanks.”