Murder Any Witch Way: A Brimstone Bay Mystery (Brimstone Bay Mysteries Book 1)

by N. M. Howell

  The weather was getting cooler, which was fine by me, as I prefer sweaters and mulled wine to tank tops and iced tea any day.

  I arrived bright and early at the office to gather some things before heading to the main event area to catch the opening announcements. I desperately needed a coffee, though, and headed downstairs for a Triple Americano once I had packed my bag.

  Ryan was standing outside the café with two other guys. I noticed the door to the café behind him was closed, and there was a ‘please come again’ sign hanging in the window.

  I raised my eyebrow at Ryan as I walked up to him and his friends, holding my arms up as if to ask what’s going on.

  “Sorry, River, we’re closed for the opening event,” he said apologetically.

  “Aw, what the hell, Ryan?” I demanded, putting my hands on my hips in an attempt to look stern. He knew I needed my coffee every morning. Bad things happened when I didn’t get my coffee.

  “Don’t talk to my bro like that,” a tall, scruffy-looking guy said to me, puffing his chest out in attempt to look intimidating, I imagined.

  I raised my eyebrow at him, unsure how to even respond to that.

  "Dude," Ryan said, jabbing his friend in the ribs with his elbow. “Sorry, River," he muttered.

  The same tall, dark-haired guy took one more step towards me, looked down at me and said simply, “Who the hell are you?"

  "Who the hell are you?" I snapped right back at him.

  "You country girls need to show some respect. In the big city, women know how to treat a man with the respect he deserves." He spat on the ground next to his feet.

  “Oh yeah? What city, big guy?” I snarled back at him, refusing to be intimidated by a thug. Poor Ryan looked terrified and just stood there watching the scene play out in front of him.

  “Boston.”

  Oh yeah? Well, I gotcha beat, buster. I looked up at him and smirked, but said nothing. He glared down at me even fiercer, obviously not used to girls standing up to him.

  One of the other guys stepped forward putting his hand on his friend's shoulder. “Relax, man." He ran his hand through his dark sandy hair and reached his other out to me.

  I accepted the offer and shook his hand.

  "My name is Jordan O’Riley, nice to meet you," the sandy-haired guy said. His hair hung loose and messy in front of his icy blue eyes.

  I smiled at him. "River. Pleasure."

  Ryan stepped forward, finally gaining the nerve to speak. “These are my friends from when I was staying with my mom in Boston. Jordan and Brett. They came out to check out the festival and to catch up. We haven't seen each other in a few years." He eyed Jordan, stepping ever so slightly between myself and his good-looking friend.

  I was pretty sure the festival had already gone through Boston just a few weeks prior, but whatever. I nodded at Ryan and said, “I see. Well, I'm heading there now to catch the opening announcements. You guys care to join me?"

  "Sure," Ryan said, moving to follow as I turned to walk down the sidewalk. His two friends followed close behind, muttering amongst themselves about something to do with small towns. I ignored them.

  "Well this morning is sure going to be a lot harder without that coffee," I said to Ryan, glancing over in his direction. He blushed, and stared down at his feet as he walked.

  He shrugged. “Yeah, sorry about that. Dad wanted to check out the festival, and didn't think I'd be able to manage the café all on my own if we got a sudden rush."

  "That’s fair, I guess." We walked in silence down the main street towards the abandoned house at the end of Pine Court and Jackson Avenue where the event organizers decided to set up their haunted house. It was the main event that everyone was looking forward to.

  I breathed in the sweet smell of the early autumn air, relishing the fact that my favorite season had finally arrived. I wouldn't have to deal anymore with the sweaty summer weather and humidity.

  I could sense the tingling of magic as we got closer to the haunted house, and a large crowd gathered ahead of us waiting for the announcements that would open the festival for the next week.

  I eagerly glanced around, trying to see if I could pinpoint where the magic was coming from. I could sense at least half a dozen other witches around us. There was a strange, unfamiliar magic that I could sense too, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was. When we finally arrived at the crowd, I turned to Ryan and told him that we could meet up later, but for now, I had to go stand in front so I didn't miss anything for the paper. I ruffled through my bag as I pushed my way through the crowd to the front, and brought out my pad of paper and my recording device.

  "River, over here!" Bailey was waving from across the crowd, and I could see the rest of my housemates making their way through the people towards me. I smiled and waved back, recognizing the excited glint in their eyes. I felt it, too. There is magic around us, and we weren't in the house. It was a brand-new experience for us, and I was both excited and nervous at the same time, unsure what this week would bring.

  The house was successfully spooky looking, and the decorations scattered around the town were incredible. If they looked this good in the morning light, I couldn’t imagine how great it would look at night. You could tell a lot of time and effort went into transforming the town overnight into a ghoulish ghost town, ready for all manner of creatures.

  The house in front of us, which normally stood empty since its last owners moved out a few years ago; had been covered in cobwebs, fake blood, and all sorts of other creative decorations. The windows were already boarded up, which contributed to the spooky atmosphere of the place. They made a really good decision by choosing that place for their haunted house. I was used to this sort of scene at Halloween, but it felt weird being surrounded by all those decorations while the sun was still bright and shining. I changed my focus to the events at hand, drawing on my journalistic experience in readying my pen hand to take notes as soon as the announcements began.

  “River!” a small voice called from behind me. I turned to look and saw Roger pushing through the crowd towards me. I sighed, having completely forgotten that he was coming.

  “My aunt said that you could use an assistant,” he grinned up at me once he made his way to the front of the crowd.

  "Oh, she did, did she?" I eyed him suspiciously.

  He nodded, beaming up at me, his eyes sparkling. I sighed again. “Well, I guess so. But be quiet, and stay close. I don't need any interruptions while I'm working. If I need something, I'll ask you, okay?"

  He nodded eagerly, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. He looked 19, but acted 12, I thought to myself. Poor kid probably had a hard time at school.

  I smiled, though, despite myself. It was nice seeing someone get so excited about this sort of thing. It was a refreshing change.

  The crowd hushed as a tall, pale man in a long black cloak and bloodshot eyes walked out of the front door of the house and stepped onto the platform at the foot of the front stairway. “Ladies and gentlemen of Brimstone Bay," the man announced, and then cleared his throat dramatically. You could hear a pin drop, the audience was so quiet.

  "I stand here before you today, an undead man having returned from beyond the grave. This festival celebrates all that is paranormal – the mystical witches, the fierce were-creatures, the powerful undead, the lingering spirits, and all those that are still unknown to us." The crowd would clap after the announcement of every paranormal creature. I rolled my eyes, knowing that in any other circumstance people would either scoff at you or run away in sheer terror. But because this was a “show", everyone seems really into it. Let's hope this loosens them all up a little bit, and will make them more open to alternative lifestyles in the future.

  "I hereby declare that the 75th annual Shadow Festival is officially open here in Brimstone Bay, Maine. I invite you all to walk through our haunted house, taste our delicious foods from around the globe, interact with all manner of creatures, and truly enjoy your time whil
e frequenting this Fair. But be warned, not all is that which it seems. Be sure to stay together in groups, be aware of your surroundings, and allow yourself the enjoyment of being frightened, as this festival is meant to educate, entertain, and scare in equal measure. Welcome to the Shadow Festival." The man bowed deeply, turned abruptly and disappeared up into the haunted house, the door closing automatically behind him.

  The crowd erupted in applause, everyone pushing their way to the front of the line to experience the haunted house firsthand. A short woman came pushing forward, wearing a badge that said Shadow Staff pinned to her black cloak, and she stood next to the door preventing people from coming in.

  "Mr. Mayor! May I invite you, your staff, and members of the press to have first access to the haunted house. Members of the public will be allowed to enter shortly after that." When the crowd continued to push forward, she spoke a little more aggressively. “You will all get your turns, do not fret. Please backup and make way for the mayor."

  The crowd grudgingly parted to allow him to pass through. He took two steps up the front stairs, turned towards the crowd and smiled at me while I snapped a quick shot of him in front of the haunted house. He winked at me, turned, and then led the procession into the house. I tucked my camera back in my bag, hanging onto the notepad and pen so I could jot down notes as we walked through the haunted house. I then raced up the stairs after him to experience what would be my very first paranormal haunted house experience.

  5

  The front door closed behind us as the group entered the building.

  The house took on an eerie silence once the front door had shut. All sounds of the crowd outside had been muted, and the only noises escaping from the rooms beyond were faint creeks and a bubbling sound.

  I had to admit, they did a wicked job with this place. The house itself was an early Victorian from around the late 1860’s. It hadn’t been maintained, so it was perfectly rickety and decrepit - the event organizers didn’t have to do much in that regard. The house was full of numerous rooms of varying sizes, all connected together through large double door openings, typical of the Victorian style.

  Drapes, spider webs, and other creepy things had been hung within each doorway, blocking the view from room to room. This added to the suspense of the experience, not knowing what lay in the room beyond the one you were currently in.

  Mayor Scott stood at the far side of the entrance foyer and motioned for me to go first. “Might as well get the money shots for the paper before anyone else goes through.” His two assistants obligingly stepped aside, relief shown clearly across both of their faces. They obviously weren’t thrilled with the idea of going into the haunted house first.

  I nodded, placed my notepad and pen back in my bag and retrieved my camera. Noticing that the teen had followed me in, I tossed my bag to Roger so that he at least looked somewhat useful.

  I led the way through the large rectangular doorway into what once would have been the large living room. The room now seemed to be a witch’s den, complete with a bubbling cauldron, stuffed cat statues - at least I hoped they were statues and not real stuffed cats - and hundreds upon hundreds of dusty old bottles, all scattered around the floor in disarray.

  I froze as I stepped into the room. Walking into that much magic was like walking into a brick wall. I eyed the small grey-haired woman who stood hunched over behind the cauldron, and she winked at me. She knew full well what I was. I couldn’t help but smile. Glancing up I saw a number of figures floating above us. Faint, the spirits obviously weren’t keen on making themselves known. I could make out the details of a few young men and women, circling above us. None of them bothered to make eye contact with me, and I wondered if they were there as part of the show, or just lingering around because of the presence of magic. Either way, none of the rest of the group could see them so I moved on.

  I stepped cautiously into the room, and the rest of our group followed close behind. “Whoaaaa,” I could hear Roger say from behind me, obviously thrilled with the first room. He wanted witches, and he got witches.

  The woman stirred the bubbling contents of the large cauldron as I made my way slowly around the room, inspecting the contents of the few vials that were still sitting on the shelves. I was careful not to step on any of the empty ones on the floor, but from the clanging noises behind me, I could tell that no one else was attempting to be as cautious.

  Matching the colors of the bottles’ contents to the labels, I assumed that each bottle held the actual ingredients they so claimed. Eye of newt, vampire bat blood, devil’s root… all seemingly from spooky tales, and all extremely powerful in potion-making.

  My gaze traveled up to one of the cats perched above the window, and looking into its life-like eyes, I doubted very much that it was a stuffed toy. Probably just temporarily petrified with a spell, I suspected. I nearly screamed when the cat winked at me, but luckily my breath caught in my throat.

  Everyone jumped back in fright as a form emerged from the shadows of the back corner of the room. A tall, thin woman with waist-length white hair and a long, crooked nose walked forward with a handful of empty vials. She walked up to the cauldron and proceeded to fill the vials while muttering an incantation of some kind under her breath. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but even having been surrounded by witches as a child, the sound sent shivers up my spine.

  When all five vials were filled, the witch turned to us and handed us each a vial in silence, then retreated back to the corner of the room and disappeared into the shadows once more.

  We all looked at each other, unsure what to do with them. I sniffed my own, trying to place the familiar smells. I highly doubted the event organizers would allow the witches to give an actual magic potion to the guests, but I recognized the scent in the vial and tried my best to put my finger on what it was.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and took another deep inhale over the cauldron, then relaxed as I finally realized what it was.

  Lavender, rose petals, and orange peel. It was tea. I laughed out loud. “Drink it, it’s okay.”

  Mayor Scott raised his eyebrow at me but then proceeded to slam back the vial in one go. Roger had drunk his immediately after his was handed to him, not even bothering to question the contents. The mayor’s two assistants, Rachel and Tanya, sniffed the contents of their vials suspiciously, reluctant to drink the warm liquid.

  I wiggled my fingers at them jokingly. “It’s a calming potion. Ouuuuuu.” Both girls stared at me, wide-eyed.

  I sighed and rolled my eyes. “It’s lavender tea,” I said simply. Realization dawned on their faces, and they seemed to relax and drink the tea.

  I shook my head and then diverted my attention back to the room, taking the scenery in, in all its spooky glory. A witch’s house was, of course, nothing like this, movies and television obviously grossly exaggerating the darkness for story telling’s sake, but it still felt like home to me somehow.

  The cloaked woman behind the cauldron raised her arm slowly, wisps of smoke from the cauldron trailed her hand as it moved, and motioned towards the next room.

  As instructed, I led the group through the cobwebbed doorway but halted immediately when I noticed three old women blocking our way.

  “Uh…” I said, putting my arm out to stop the rest from bumping into me.

  “What are you waiting for, let’s go,” Roger said, eagerly. I glanced back at him and realized he couldn’t see the women. Looking around at the rest of our party, I doubted any of them could see them either.

  I looked closer at the women and sensed a transparency about them. Ah, they were ghosts.

  They obviously didn’t seem to want to move, so I gritted my teeth and walked right through them. I shuddered as I passed through. That was not a pleasant experience.

  This room was colder, somehow, and felt far less familiar. It was also pitch black, and I could barely see two feet in front of me. I stepped aside to let those behind me come into the room. I felt a surge of po
wer course over my skin, like a jolt of electric energy, but it was like nothing I had ever felt before. I looked around the room curiously, trying to track the source of the magic, but it seemed to just hang in the air all around us, impossible to identify.

  Mayor Scott shivered audibly as he walked into the room, and immediately started pacing back and forth. I could sense his discomfort.

  As my eyes adjusted, I noticed a long, dark box along the side of the room. A coffin. Apart from that, the room was empty and unadorned, with nothing but the musty, faded wallpaper peeling from the walls.

  We all gathered around the coffin, awaiting what came next.

  Minutes ticked by, and nothing happened. I could sense the electric energy in the room growing stronger, and my skin burned from its touch. The sensation got so strong, it was nearly unbearable. I rubbed my arms to try and dissipate the feeling, but it didn’t help. Glancing around the room, I could tell that I was the only one that could feel it, though.

  Another few minutes went by, and still, nothing happened. Tanya sighed, picking at her nails in boredom.

  I nearly suggested moving through to the next room, when the top of the coffin make a loud creaking noise, and we all jumped back in surprise. Slowly, the lid slid sideways and fell with a loud thud between the coffin and the wall.

  Everyone took another step back except for me, as I was mesmerized by the sheer power that I could sense coming from within the coffin. The prickling on my skin stopped, and I could feel the power delving deeper into my skin. My blood felt cold, and I was entranced.

  A pale-faced man slowly sat up within the coffin, his back rigid as a board. His eyes were open and lifeless, staring forward as his body lifted from the wooden box as if pulled by invisible strings. He stopped, frozen, floating a foot above the coffin in mid-air.