by Amy Cross
Where Father Perkins was crouched a moment ago, there is now nothing but a hole in the floorboards.
“Father?” I whisper, looking around as I hear panicked voices shouting outside. “Father Perkins?”
I try to spot him, to find him somewhere in the madness, but he is gone. Hurrying across the room, I search desperately for some sign of his body, but then I look down at my hand and I see that they are covered in blood. Then, turning, I catch sight of my reflection in a broken piece of glass, and I see that there is blood all across my face. In that instant, realizing that Father Perkins is gone, I scream.
Shaltak laughs, and I turn to find that I am back in the church, standing all alone halfway along the aisle. I look at my hand again and see that the blood is gone and my skin is once again deathly pale.
“What a pathetic display,” Shaltak sneers. “You could have saved him, you know. You could have given your soul to me completely, Judith, and I'd have let him survive. Instead you were too proud. That's a real theme with you, isn't it? You valued your so-called faith above all else, you put your trust in the Lord and begged him to help you. And how did that work out?”
I pause for a moment, before realizing that Father Perkins is dead. Horrified, I sink to my knees and put my face in my hands, and I start sobbing wildly.
“He's dead because of you,” Shaltak says, her voice rising above the sound of my own wailing sorrow. “You ruined a good man.”
I cannot answer her accusation. Instead, overcome by sorrow, I let out the most anguished howl of pain. Until this moment I was always able to summon some words, to declare my faith, but now I am broken. Leaning forward, I arch my shaking back and try to rest on my elbows, only to slump down with my face against the cold stone floor as I cry out. All faith is gone, and all hope. What is left is only the realization that I failed, and that this demon has consumed me entirely.
A moment later, hearing a distinct clicking sound in the distance, I somehow manage to sit back up. I hear the sound of the church's wooden door being pressed quietly shut, and then I realize that there are footsteps out in the corridor. And then, to my horror, I see a familiar figure stepping into the arched doorway.
“Elizabeth,” I whisper. “No...”
“Mother?” she calls out, looking all around as if she doesn't see me. “Are you here?”
“No!” I scream, stumbling to my feet and rushing over to her. I try to grab her by the arm and force her back out of the church, but somehow I am unable to touch her and I instead stumble and bump against the corridor's far wall.
“Mother, if you're here, give me a sign,” she says, stepping through the doorway and then stopping to look toward the altar. “I know this is foolish,” she continues, “but somehow... I know that you're here. You are, aren't you? I came back. Mother, I'm so sorry I ran from you. I came back for you, though. I realized that you need help. What you did to me in the forest, that wasn't really you. You'd never do something like that. I'm not scared anymore. I've come to help you.”
“Such a pretty child,” Shaltak whispers. “After everything you've done to her, she still loves you.”
“Leave her alone,” I stammer, as I feel an icy dread spreading through my body. “I won't let -”
“You won't let what?” Shaltak asks, as Elizabeth starts walking along the aisle. “You won't let her follow the same path as Father David Perkins? You won't let her suffer the same fate?”
“Leave my daughter in peace,” I reply, terrified in case Elizabeth might see me. “For the love of -”
“The Lord?” Shaltak snaps. “Go on, I dare you. Ask again for help from someone who has consistently ignored your every plea. I dare you, say that name again and see how I respond.”
I open my mouth to pray, but I do not dare.
“You are innocent,” Shaltak continues. “That is the truth, Judith. I have been too harsh on you. It is the people of Briarwych who are to blame. If they had supported you from the start, if they had been true believers, everything would have been fine and you would never have succumbed to my advances. Instead, their constant judgment broke you down piece by piece until you felt unworthy, until doubts spread through your body like cracks in stone.”
“No, it is my fault,” I reply, still watching Elizabeth as she approaches the altar. “I know that now.”
“Let me show you,” Shaltak says, “how your life would have been if only the inhabitants of Briarwych had not ruined your life.”
“No, I -”
Before I can finish, everything changes around me and I find myself back in my little cottage. Bright morning sunlight is streaming through the window, and the smell of egg and bacon is in the air. Startled, I look around, and I am shocked to see that Elizabeth is now sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book. I want to cry out to her, to tell her to run, but then she turns to me and smiles.
“Are you okay, Mummy?” she asks. “Why, you have a rather worried look on your face. You haven't burned breakfast, have you?”
“Elizabeth...”
“I suppose no-one's perfect,” she continues, “not even you.”
I open my mouth to tell her that she must get out of here, but then I hear footsteps on the stairs, and I turn just in time to see Father Perkins coming into the kitchen. And then, before I have time to react, he comes over and kisses me on the cheek, while placing a hand on my waist.
“Looking as beautiful as ever, my dear,” he says with a chuckle. “I wish I could be with you at the meeting today, but you know how it is, church duties call. I hope you can knock some sense into the heads of the floral committee, though. Mrs. Wallingthorpe in particular seems rather stubborn.”
“Father Perkins,” I stammer, “I...”
“Father Perkins?” He plucks a rasher of bacon from the pan and starts nibbling the end. “You haven't called me that for a long time. I still remember the day I finally got you to call me David. That was when I knew we'd one day be married.”
“Married?” I reply, tilting my head slightly.
“Mummy's in a funny mood today,” Elizabeth says. “I don't know what's up with her, but I suppose it must be the stress of the flower committee. Old Mrs. Wallingthorpe can be a dreadful old -”
“Let's have none of that,” Father Perkins tells her. “I won't have any step-daughter of mine speaking ill of people who are merely... I suppose we can call Mrs. Wallingthorpe misguided. But she's a good person, at heart.”
“Mummy, are you sure you don't want to have a sit down?” Elizabeth asks. “You really are looking very pale.”
“Yes, darling, take a seat,” Father Perkins says as he pulls a chair over from the table. “Lizzy's right, you do seem rather out of sorts.”
He's right, I am feeling rather faint. And as I take a seat, I begin to realize that I might have been letting things get on top of me. Life can sometimes feel like an endless torrent of pressures and demands, and one can struggle from time to time to remain strong. Perhaps I have been a little harsh on myself of late, and I might be wise to slow down a little. After all, Elizabeth and Father Perkins need me so very much. They rely upon me.
“I had the most awful dream,” I say finally, as Father Perkins – no, as David – kneels next to me, and as Elizabeth listens intently. “Everything was wrong. The world was all topsy-turvy and upside-down, and David... We weren't together.”
“That sounds like a nightmare, darling,” he says, reaching out and ruffling the hair on the side of my head. “But that's all it was. You know that, don't you?”
“I do,” I reply, feeling a rush of relief in my chest. “Oh, David, I do realize that. It was terrible, but you're right, it was just a nightmare and it's over now. None of it actually happened, and we're all safe here at home, aren't we?”
“Of course, darling.”
“And the church is alright?”
“The church?” He furrows his brow. “Of course the church is alright. Why wouldn't it be?”
Overcome with a sense of pur
e joy, I lean forward and put my arms around him, hugging him tight. There are tears in my eyes, and for a moment I can't help but think back to that awful nightmare about Shaltak and about everything going wrong. It all seemed so real, so real that I felt every second, but now it's over and I shall never ever take my life here for granted. I have learned the most valuable of all lessons, and I shall certainly give thanks to the Lord later for the fact that I have been saved from that dreadful dream.
“I love you,” I sob, still clutching David tight, still scared to ever let him go again. “You have no idea how much I love you.”
“And I love you too, darling. You know that, don't you?”
“Mummy, you're so funny sometimes,” Elizabeth says. “You're really being quite silly today.”
“And I love you,” I say, turning to her. “I shall never -”
Suddenly the warmth of David's body is gone, and I find myself standing back in the church and staring along the aisle as Elizabeth stands alone the altar. The air all around me is so very cold.
“Wouldn't it have been nice?” Shaltak asks, as fresh tears reach my eyes. “Oh, if only the people of Briarwych hadn't ruined your life.”
“I want to wake up,” I reply, as I realize that I must have slipped back once again into that awful nightmare. “I don't want to be here anymore. I want to wake up!”
Shaltak starts laughing.
“I want to wake up!” I scream, rushing forward before tripping and falling, and landing hard on my knees. “I want to wake up,” I sob. “I don't want this to be my life.”
“Mother?”
I look along the aisle again, and I see that Elizabeth seems to be staring straight at me.
“Are you going to make the same mistake again?” Shaltak asks. “Think of the look in Father Perkins' eyes as he died. Do you want to see the same look in your daughter's eyes when she dies?”
“No,” I whisper, as Elizabeth starts making her way slowly along the aisle. “No no no no no, no, no no no...”
“Mother, I know you're dead,” Elizabeth says as she gets closer. “I also knew, somehow, that I'd find you here.”
“No no no,” I stammer, getting to my feet, “no, no no no, no...”
“Mother, what happened?” she asks, as tears run down her cheeks. “I don't understand, Mother. Why did you die?”
“You know why,” Shaltak says. “It was all their fault. Let me into the last holdout in your heart, Judith. You know I speak the truth. They need to pay for their constant cruelty.”
“It was all their fault,” I whisper, before realizing that I can feel a surge of anger and hatred rising through my chest. “It was all their fault.”
She's right.
I would never have done that awful thing to Elizabeth without Shaltak in my mind, and Shaltak would never have been there if I had been stronger, and I would have been stronger if I had not endured a lifetime of shame and ridicule from the idiots in Briarwych.
“It was their fault,” I whisper again.
“What do you mean?” Elizabeth asks, stopping in front of me. She pauses, before reaching out a hand and touching my shoulder. “You're a ghost, aren't you?” she continues. “But I can touch you. You're so cold, Mother, and you look so pale. Are you really dead? Is your body really up in the... I mean, is this all true?” Her eyes are filled with tears now, and she takes a step back as she stares at me with an expression of utter horror. “Mother, tell me it's not so. I just...”
She pauses, and then suddenly she slumps down and lands hard against the floor.
“Elizabeth!”
Rushing forward, I realize she must have fainted with shock at seeing me. I gather her up into my arms and then I manage to get her onto one of the pews. Putting an arm around her, I hold her tight and kiss the top of her head.
“Listen to me very carefully,” Shaltak says, “if you want your daughter to live.”
“I do,” I sob. “I'll do anything.”
“When she wakes, you must make her your agent in the world. I was able to take us to visit Father Perkins, but that effort took a lot out of me and I must rest for a while. So you must use your daughter. Do you understand? I want you to prove your loyalty to me, Judith, even in death. The people of Briarwych destroyed your life, they destroyed the life you could have had. They destroyed Father Perkins' life as well.”
“Yes,” I reply through gritted teeth, as I continue to hold Elizabeth tight. “They did.”
“They must pay,” Shaltak continues. “This church is shuttered and abandoned for now, but eventually it will re-open. You might have to wait a week, or a month, or a year, or ten years, but churches never stay closed for long. Eventually a new priest will arrive here, and you must be ready. When the day comes, you will need Elizabeth to obey your every command. She's a strong, resourceful girl. The villagers of Briarwych might be reluctant to return to the church, but they must return, so that they can be punished.”
“How?” I ask.
“I will let you know in good time. For now, you must simply ensure that Elizabeth is your obedient servant. Use her love for you. Make her obey you.”
“I will,” I reply. “I swear.”
“And don't let me down,” Shaltak adds. “Once I am assured of your loyalty, I shall know that I can use you for a greater purpose. But if you let me down, I shall take my anger out on your daughter. I shall snap the bitch's neck and rip her head off, and I shall throw her corpse to the depths of Hell so that she can be ravaged for all eternity. If you think she was violated with a rose, wait until you see what I can do with hell-hounds.”
“No,” I sob, holding Elizabeth tighter and tighter. “I'll do it. I'll prove myself to you. You're right, the people of Briarwych have to suffer, and I'll make sure that they do. I'll make them pay for everything they've done.”
“Mother?”
Looking down, I see that Elizabeth's eyes are open, and that she's staring up at me.
“Who are you going to make pay?” she asks, her voice trembling with fear. “Mother, why do you look so angry?”
“I need you to do something for me,” I tell her. “It will take time, but it's very important.” I reach up and put a hand on the side of her face. I see her flinch slightly at my cold touch, but I know that I can trust her. “Elizabeth,” I continue, “I need you to help me gain my revenge on the people of Briarwych.”
Chapter Twenty
I do not know how much time passes as I walk alone through the church. Sometimes I hear Shaltak's voice in my mind, reminding me of my purpose here. Other times I am left with only my thoughts, and with my memories of how happy I could have been. Sometimes I hear voices outside, and I stop at the window to look out; I see children playing in the cemetery from time to time, although they always run when they become aware of my presence. For a while, my loneliness feels as if it might be endless, and I have only my anger to keep me warm.
Occasionally Shaltak tries to pull the same trick as before. She tries to take us beyond the church, but at least this is one thing I am able to stop. I have found a way to concentrate my mind and hold us both here. She has tried to be sneaky, to catch me by surprise, so I have had to remain vigilant. It helps that I never need to sleep anymore, and that I am never hungry or thirsty. I am awake and sated all the time. This is a curse, but also in some ways a blessing. At least I am able to ensure that nobody else suffers the way Father Perkins suffered.
So I simply walk and I walk and I walk, and occasionally I have to stop for a moment and focus in order to keep Shaltak from projecting us beyond the church. Sometimes she rages and curses at me, but I take that as a sign that my efforts are working. And then, one day, after it feels as if an eternity has passed, I hear a sound I have not heard for many years.
I hear a key in a lock, fumbling slightly. I stop at the end of the corridor and wait, and finally I watch as the heavy wooden door slowly swings open.
This man is a priest. As soon as I see him standing there, silhouetted in the
open doorway, I know that this is a man of the Lord. He is carrying a single suitcase, and he cuts a rather sad, lonely figure as he steps inside and places the suitcase on the floor. I do not dare move, lest I attract his attention, so at first I simply watch as he makes his way through the arched doorway. I can hear his footsteps moving along the aisle, and at the same time I feel a flicker of anger in my chest as I realize that finally, after all this time, Briarwych Church is going to re-open.
“See?” Shaltak whispers. “I told you. Churches never stay closed for very long.”
***
Rain is crashing down and thunder rumbles in the sky high above, as the priest stands alone in the darkness and looks up toward the ceiling. It is several minutes now since he rose from his bed, and I rather think that he seems troubled by something. In the time since he arrived here, I have come to regard this new priest as a very calm, very ordered man. In ordinary circumstances, I would approve of him very much.
A humming sound begins to grow, above the sound of the dripping water and above the distant rumbles of thunder. I know that sound well, from the time I have spent here at the church. Bombers are heading out to France, which means that the war must still be raging. As soon as I think of the war, my mind returns to the horrific sight of Father Perkins in that room, and to the moment when he pulled on the wire and activated that German trap. I try to avoid thinking of such things, but now I feel myself getting overcome by emotion. By sorrow.
As the sound of the bombers fades, I turn and rush away, filled with panic. In the process, however, I inadvertently brush against the priest. I take several more paces before stopping, and then I turn to see that he is looking this way. He is not staring directly at me, but it is as if he sensed my touch. I wait, worried that he might somehow realize that I am here, and that he might then flee the church in a state of terror. He does no such thing, however. Instead, he continues to look around for a moment longer, and then he turns and heads back to the room in which he has been sleeping.
