Stella Maris (The Legendary Rosaries)

by Marita A. Hansen

  He went silent, horror colouring his expression, the night unable to hide it. I moved behind him, placing a hand on his back. He flinched, but didn’t avoid my touch. I ran my fingers down his back, over where his scars were. “There are angel wings carved here for a reason. That demon who attacked you would’ve sensed the good in you. Could sense that you’re an angel at heart, no matter who your parents are.”

  He turned to face me. “I felt hate, real hate today. How can an angel feel that? Maybe I’m a demon like them.”

  I shook my head. “No, you’re good.”

  His upset expression didn’t change, Christopher clearly not believing me. Wanting to comfort him, I wrapped my arms around him. His body was so stiff, so unrelenting. I placed my head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat, which was racing far too fast.

  “You are good,” I asserted, willing him to believe me, to have faith in his good intentions. “You’re an angel through and through.”

  His arms moved around me, the two of us now locked in each other’s embrace. He lowered his head, resting it on top of mine. “Grazie for believing in me,” he said.

  “I’m the one who should be thanking you.” I gave him a squeeze. “You have risked so much for me.”

  “You’re worth it.” Breaking our hug, he took hold of my hand and tugged me towards the trees. “Let’s go to my auntie’s. She’ll help us get to Mount Maunganui.”

  I slipped my hand out of his. “I can’t go with you.”

  He tensed. “But you agreed—”

  “Things have changed. I have to fight your granddad now.”

  “No! You said—”

  “That I would go if your granddad didn’t go after my parents. But he called me, threatened to burn my house down with them in it if I didn’t show tomorrow. So, I can’t leave with you.”

  “But he’ll kill you.”

  “And if I leave, he’ll kill my parents.” I took a step back, putting distance between us, his anger now worrying me.

  “I don’t care, you’re not going!” he snapped.

  “Well, I care. You may not love your parents, but I love mine.”

  His anger instantly disappeared, his voice softening, the sudden change putting me on edge. “Please don’t go.”

  “You know I can’t stay.”

  He reached for me, something telling me to avoid his touch, his behaviour not right.

  “Why can’t I hug you?” he asked, sounding hurt.

  “I...” Feeling guilty for rejecting his hug, I reached out to touch his hand. He grabbed it and yanked me to him, wrapping his arms around me. “Chris! What are you doing?”

  “I’m not letting you go,” he said, holding me tight.

  I struggled to pull free, but his grip was too strong. “Chris! Let go!”

  “No.” He picked me up, throwing me over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold, what he was doing shocking me. But as soon as he began walking towards the trees, I started kicking and screaming, panicked that he was going to get my parents killed.

  “Let me down!” I hollered.

  Ignoring me, he continued walking.

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked, struggling against his hold.

  “Stephen’s house,” he replied, tightening his grip on me.

  “Chris, you’re hurting me. Don’t make me use the rosary against you.”

  He stopped at my words. “You wouldn’t dare; you said that you love me.”

  “I never said—”

  “Don’t lie. You whispered it at Buckland’s Reserve. You didn’t think I heard, but I did.”

  I grimaced, surprised he’d heard that, but it didn’t change a thing. I still couldn’t let him take me, my parents’ lives were at stake. So I allowed the lie to slip from my mouth, hoping it would free me.

  “It was a trick,” I said. “I was reeling you in, using you to get at your granddad, so you might as well let me go, because I don’t feel a thing for you.”

  He resumed walking. “I don’t believe you.”

  Knowing I had no other choice, I willed a controlled burst of water to knock him down. Christopher stumbled and tripped, letting go of me. I landed on top of him, knocking the wind out of him. Taking advantage, I scrambled to my feet and went to run, falling over as he kicked out, tripping me up. But I was back on my feet in a heartbeat, recovering quicker than him. I sprinted towards the road, glancing back to see if he was following me.

  He sprung up and ran after me, his long legs chewing up the distance faster than I could get away. A car drove towards us. Seeing my opportunity, I shot in front of it, knowing I had enough time to get past. Tyres screeched hard, but the car stopped well clear of me. I glanced back to see where Christopher was. He went to run around the car, but the driver jumped out, going ballistic at him, his posture threatening. I stopped a little up the road, afraid the man would attack Christopher.

  “She’s my girlfriend, you idiot!” Christopher hollered at him.

  The man said something, then advanced on Christopher. I went to go back, not willing to let him get hurt, but Christopher threw a punch at the stranger, knocking him to the ground. He then looked across the car at me. I took off again, heading for my house.

  As I crossed Sumner Street, the sound of screeching tyres cut through the night. Glancing back, I noticed the car that had stopped was heading for me. My eyes widened at the sight of Christopher behind the wheel. Darting into a driveway, I ran to the end of the property and scaled the fence. A car door slammed shut, closely followed by running footsteps. I scaled over a couple more fences, then darted behind a shed, hoping that Christopher would pass by. The footsteps came, but not in my direction. Then out of the blue, a loud burst of barking ripped through the air. The lights in the neighbouring house turned on. Christopher swore and took off.

  I glanced around the shed, only seeing the dog, who was behind a wire fence in the neighbouring property. The dog’s owner shouted at it through the window, then switched off the lights. Once all was clear, I shot around the side of the house and across Balwyn Road, slowing down as I neared my property, worried that Christopher could be lying in wait. When I didn’t see him, I ran to my front door and let myself in, locking it behind me.

  Careful not to wake my parents, I tiptoed upstairs and slipped into my room, freezing at the sound of a car pulling up outside. I remained where I was, praying it wasn’t Christopher, but still prepared to run downstairs to get him to leave. When no knock came, I sat down on my bed and exhaled, so freaking wired I was shaking. But my relief was short-lived, the iron gate at the side of my house opening.

  I went to my window, looking down at the path that ran between the house and pool. With his hood back on, Christopher looked up at the bedrooms. His eyes swept over my parents’ room, landing on me peering down at him.

  The Alsatian next door started barking, making him jump. Lights came on in my parents’ room, as well as the neighbour’s. Christopher turned and ran, disappearing into the night.

  I just hoped it wasn’t the last time I saw him.

  Chapter 49

  ~ CATHERINE ~

  Sunday the 2nd of July, 1989

  The taxi driver arrived just as I opened the front door. I locked up and ran to the sedan, letting myself into the backseat, relieved that Christopher hadn’t stuck around to stop me. I wasn’t concerned about my parents seeing me leave. I’d told my mum that I’d decided to go to swim practice. She’d mumbled something about it being too early, my suggestion of catching a taxi well received.

  “Good morning,” the taxi driver said. “I’ve been told that your destination is Buckland’s Reserve. Is that correct?”

  “Yes,” I replied, clicking the seatbelt on.

  “That’s an unusual place to go to this early in the morning.”

  “It’s for a biology project,” I lied, giving the fatherly-looking man some sense of comfort. “I’ll be meeting my class there. It’s the only time that the birds we’re studying come out.”

&nbs
p; “On a Sunday?”

  “Yeah, I know, it sucks, but we can’t do it during the week,” I said, willing myself not to be short with him, knowing he was just being nice. Although right now I wished I’d gotten an uncaring sod, who didn’t give a stuff where he was dropping me off.

  Giving me a nod, he pulled out of the driveway and headed for Buckland’s Reserve. I sat in silence, wondering whether I would ever see my suburb again, my family, my friends, and... Christopher. I looked down at my hands, wishing I was with him instead of dealing with his granddad. My heart grew heavier as we drew closer to Buckland’s Reserve. I didn’t hold out much hope of surviving today. I was basically getting a taxi ride to my death, because how could I beat a man with almost a century’s worth of experience? If, or more likely when, he killed me, my soul would probably be sucked into his rosary, burning for eternity. I swallowed, beyond terrified, so much so that I wanted to ask the taxi driver to turn around and take me back home. But I couldn’t, my parents’ lives were at stake, which meant I needed to find a way to win no matter what, making sure that it was Reprebus’ soul sucked into my purgatory bead. He deserved to suffer for everything he’d done, drowning for eternity like the other souls in my rosary.

  Wanting to have a look at them, I pulled my rosary out from under my I Love Mexico hoodie, doing a double take at what I saw. The star was now totally white, not even a flicker of blue left on it. Though, the tiny fish-like creatures were still swimming around inside the bead, the demon souls trapped within their own personal hell. For a second, I wondered whether there were angel souls in there too, but instantly shut that thought down, having enough things to worry about without adding more.

  The taxi driver drove past the bus shed that Christopher had waited at on Tuesday and Thursday. It wasn’t long before I spied Buckland’s Reserve. I closed my eyes, listening intently to the crunch of the gravel underneath the taxi’s tyres as it drew closer to my imminent doom. I opened my eyes when the taxi came to a standstill, my heart now in my throat.

  The driver glanced back at me. “No one’s here.”

  I looked down at my watch for effect. “No worries, I’m a bit early.”

  “Did you want to stay in the car until someone arrives?”

  “No, I’ll be fine. What’s the cost?”

  He told me. I dug in my pocket, pulling out some coins and notes. I handed them over and opened the door, climbing out.

  The taxi driver got out too, looking over the roof at me. “Are you sure you’ll be all right here alone? I don’t feel comfortable dropping of a young lady in the middle of nowhere in the dark. Did you know a year or two back a teenager was murdered here?”

  Yes, my sister.

  I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. My classmates and teacher should be here soon.”

  The sound of an approaching vehicle drew the taxi driver’s attention away from me, a set of headlights lighting up the car park.

  Seeing my opportunity, I pushed on. “That’s my teacher’s Beemer, looks like the rest will be here in no time.”

  Smiling, the taxi driver nodded and climbed back into his car. He started up the engine and drove past Reprebus’ BMW. Needing to be as far away from Christopher’s granddad as possible, I slipped through the familiar opening in the trees and sprinted across the grassy field, running as fast as I could towards the line of trees on the other side, the small forest a possible escape route if I needed it. I stopped and leaned over to get my breath back, only allowing the panic to overtake my mind for a few seconds before getting a grip and straightening.

  Two tall forms emerged from the trees on the far side of the field, but contrary to my dreams, Reprebus was with his son instead of his cousin. Christopher’s dad stopped in front of the tall pine trees, while Reprebus continued moving forward, stopping several feet in front of his son. He waved at me to come closer. Eyeing him up warily, I took a few steps, but didn’t go any further, needing some distance between us. At a guess it was about fifty metres, fifty of those too close for comfort.

  Christopher’s granddad raised his hands. The Seraphim rosary lit up, the red light looking brighter against his black clothes. For a second I considered reasoning with him, but as soon as flames sparked from his fingertips, I knew there wasn’t going to be any talking involved.

  I raised my hands in response. All around me dewdrops rose up from the damp grass, coalescing with the moisture in the air. I started chanting the Hail Mary over and over again, my voice growing louder by the second, my prayer to Saint Mary stopping me from turning and running. My words appeared to have an effect on Reprebus too, but in a negative way. Even from a distance, with only his flames and the moon lighting the field, I could see the anger written across his face, as though the prayer offended him. The flames in his hands flared, rapidly swelling into massive balls of fire.

  “Prayers won’t help you!” he shouted. “Nothing will help you. You took my grandson away from me, and you’ll die for that.”

  He flung his hands out, propelling the fireballs at me. I reacted quickly, forming a protective shield around myself with the water I’d conjured up. The balls of fire struck my shield, some of it dispersing into black smoke, the rest hitting the trees behind me. The flames rapidly jumped from one branch to another, dancing across the leaves, igniting more trees.

  Reprebus threw another attack at me. It broke through my water shield, striking me in the legs. Screaming in agony, I staggered back, quickly smothering my burning jeans with water. I’d barely put it out before more fireballs came my way. I flung myself to the side, narrowly avoiding them, but landed on my burnt legs, causing more pain. Not having any time to spare, I gritted my teeth and picked myself up, raising my hands to create my own attack. This time the water came from within, the surge rushing through my veins, bursting forth. It barrelled towards Reprebus, hitting him square on, knocking him back. But it was a weak attack, barely hindering him. He started moving towards me, aiming a large fireball at my head.

  I quickly sent out a torrent of water to smother the fiery assault, dousing the flames. I threw out more water, pushing him back a few more feet, but it wasn’t enough, nothing I was doing hurting him. I’d smashed boulders apart with my water spheres, but he was brushing them off, like they were nothing more than splashes.

  He smiled in response, knowing he was going to win.

  Chapter 50

  ~ CHRISTOPHER ~

  My watch alarm went off, rousing me from my sleep. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, for a moment confused as to where I was, not remembering how I’d gotten here. I was sitting in the middle of a shack, comprised of crudely put together wooden walls and an earthen floor, with hay scattered across it. I pushed to my feet and brushed the golden strands off my damp clothes, picking out a few stray pieces from my hair. I pulled my hood over my head and stepped outside. It was still dark, though in the distance, towards Buckland’s Reserve, a red glow lit up the horizon, looking like...

  Fire!

  An image of Catherine and my grandfather fighting flashed across my mind. But it was too early, Catherine had told me—

  Realising they must have changed the time, I took off in the direction of Buckland’s Reserve, running as fast as I could, hurdling over fences. The smell of smoke grew stronger as I drew closer to the reserve, the red glow now a raging fire, no shielding spell able to hide the flames tearing into Mother Nature. I leapt over another fence, running like the Devil was at my back, or in front of me, my grandfather just as evil.

  I darted between the trees to get to the reserve, cutting across the car park. I slowed down as I neared the line of pine trees, spotting my father standing on the other side of them. He had his back to me and was looking across the field at—

  I stopped in my tracks at the sight before me. Catherine was standing at the far side of the field, dressed in torn black jeans and a hoodie. But it was the sphere of water that surrounded her that left me dumbstruck. The swirling mass was drawing in particles from her surroundings, st
ealing it from the plants and sky. While behind her, was a line of flaming trees, the contrast between water and fire striking.

  My shocked gaze moved to the source of the fire. My grandfather. He was heading for Catherine, his body encased in flames. But not one hair on his head was burnt, the fire coming from within. He was conjuring up fireballs, which were moving around him like a solar system, creating his own shield-like barrier. He raised his hands, looking like he was going to throw one of the fireballs at Catherine.

  I yelled out, “No!” capturing his attention as well as my father’s. But I didn’t care about my father. My sole focus was on my grandfather, or more accurately, stopping him from killing Catherine.

  A massive water sphere crashed into him, taking him by surprise, Catherine using my distraction to her advantage. He staggered back, the majority of his shield getting doused. But it wasn’t strong enough to knock him down—only anger him. With a roar, he instantly lit up again, sending a mass of fire at her, the streaks of flames like daggers, ready to pierce her water shield.

  Before it could hit, Catherine extended her arms out, propelling her own attack, both water and fire exploding on impact, not reaching either of them. But my grandfather was already generating more fireballs, propelling them at Catherine before she could react. One of his fireballs hit her in the stomach, knocking her to the ground. The fire tore at her clothing, but she quickly smothered it with water. She went to get up, but was knocked back down by another fireball.

  I rushed forward to help her, but my father stepped in my way, pushing me hard up against a tree. In the background, Catherine screamed in agony, sending me into a panic. Knowing I had little or no time to save her, I let rip, throwing one punch after the other at my father, knocking him down. Not wasting a second more on the bastard, I jumped over him and raced towards my grandfather, willing fireballs into my own hands, the energy inside of me rapidly building. I threw one at him, yelling, “Leave her alone!” It fell short, but still grabbed his attention. He spun around to face me, but not before my father ploughed into me from behind, tackling me to the ground.