No Treats for Charlie

by Tiegan Clyne

  “Nah. My parents don’t believe in Halloween, so I couldn’t dress up. I had to tell them I was doing some Bible study in my room so they’d leave me alone.” He grinned. “You look awesome, though.”

  “Hi, Mike,” Theresa greeted. Theresa had been Mike’s girlfriend until that summer, when he had dumped her to take up with Michelle. He glanced at his former girlfriend and cast her an uneasy little smile.

  “Hey.”

  “Come on in,” Michelle purred. “Things are just starting to get interesting.”

  “What do you mean, interesting?” he teased. “Like, girl-on-girl action interesting?”

  Michelle rolled her eyes. “Ugh. You’re such a pig. No, we’re about to have a seance.”

  Mike looked at Ellen. “I guess that’s why she’s here?”

  “Yeah. We needed a medium, and she’s the closest we could find.”

  Ellen bristled. “I am a medium. And you didn’t say anything about a seance.”

  “Why else would we want you here?” Lisa scoffed.

  “I thought it was just going to be parlor games and ghost stories. Not a full-on seance,” she objected. “Fine. Just… you have to know what you’re dealing with before you start.”

  Michelle clicked her tongue. “Oh, stop being dramatic. We’re just playing around.” She plucked the Ouija board out of the centerpiece and directed some of the girls, “Clear off this table, We’re using it for this.”

  Her lackeys sprang into action, Lisa getting the snacks and drinks out of the way while Collette and Theresa began setting up folding chairs around the table. When all of the chairs were placed, Michelle put the Ouija board down on the table with a great flourish.

  “Sit here, Ellen. You’re going to run this show.”

  She looked around and saw expectant expressions on everyone’s faces. Squaring her shoulders, she looked at Michelle. “If I’m running this, then there are some things that you have to let me do first.”

  The cheerleader crossed her arms. “What?”

  “Let me cast a circle for protection.”

  “What does that mean?” Mike asked. He frowned. “I don’t want to get involved in any devil-worshipping stuff here.”

  His girlfriend rolled her eyes again. “Honestly, Mike, you sound more like your dad every day.”

  “Well, excuse me.”

  “I thought you were cool,” she pouted.

  “I am cool.” His gaze flicked toward Ellen again. “I just don’t want to go to Hell, that’s all.”

  “You won’t go to Hell if you do things the right way.” Ellen looked into his nervous face. “Say a prayer to your Jesus if it makes you feel better, but you have to let me cast a circle.”

  Lisa groaned. “You’re being overly dramatic. These things are toys. They sell them at department stores, for crying out loud.”

  “I agree.” Michelle glared at Ellen. “If you’re not going to play along, you’re going to have to leave.”

  Ellen felt her face burning as anger washed through her. For as long as she could remember, Michelle and her friends had been making her life miserable. Why was she trying so hard to keep them safe? If they wanted to play with fire, who was she to deny them the match?

  “Fine,” she said at last. “Be it on your head.”

  Michelle and the girls giggled at her words, but Mike looked at her with alarm. He sat down on the couch.

  “What are you doing?” their young hostess asked. “You’re supposed to be taking part in this. I want to have you at the table.”

  “I’m just gonna watch,” he said. “Make sure there’s no funny business.”

  “Funny business?”

  “Like if she bumps the table to make it move.” He shrugged. “That kind of thing.”

  Michelle smiled. “Oh, you’re so smart!” She rewarded him with a kiss. Theresa looked away, and Ellen scowled.

  “I’m not a faker,” she defended. Mike is just being a coward.

  “We’ll see,” the quarterback told her.

  Theresa sat at the table and put her hands on the planchette. “I saw this in a movie. We just put our fingertips really lightly on this thing, right? And then it supposedly moves on its own?”

  Julie lit a candle and put it on the table beside the board. Ellen put her fingers on the pointer. “It doesn’t move on its own. It’s moved by spirit… or, because we didn’t cast a circle, by a demon.”

  Michelle giggled and sat at Theresa’s side. She added her fingertips to the pointer, too, her immaculate French manicure gleaming in the light of the candle. “Ooh,” she mocked. “Demons.”

  Mike smiled and leaned forward to rub his big hand across Michelle’s back. “I’ll protect you, baby.”

  Ellen rubbed the circlet where it was resting against her forehead. If she had been allowed to cast her circle, her spirit guides and protectors would have been there to keep them safe, keeping the spirit of the board under control. That same spirit purred in her mind, and she felt a tug, as if it was beckoning her to touch it. There was an oily, sexual edge to the purr, and the way it wanted her to touch the board was obscene.

  She felt unsettled. The spirits that came to speak through Ouija were normally in the grey, tricksters and lost souls who might not have been evil but certainly didn’t always have the best of intentions. The one that was calling to her now was a spirit of the black. Knowing that she should have cast the circle anyway, she told the unseen presence, Show them why they should have listened to me.

  When all of the girls who wanted to take part were seated at the table, Ellen began. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She put her hands on the planchette and began the summoning.

  “Tonight is Samhain, the night when the veil is at its thinnest. The spirits of the dead walk the earth tonight. I call to any spirits who are here with us tonight to speak through this board.”

  The planchette shuddered, and she could feel the power in the board echoing all the way up to her shoulder, as if she were holding a live wire in her hand. The plastic pointer began to move.

  Immediately, Julie pulled her hands away with a squeal. The planchette stopped moving abruptly, and Ellen sighed in exasperation.

  “If you’re not going to do it right, just get a notebook or something and write down the letters as we call them out.”

  Julie scowled. “I was startled, that’s all.”

  “Why? She’s totally moving it,” Lisa sniffed.

  “No, I’m not,” Ellen defended.

  “Neither am I,” Theresa insisted.

  “Nobody’s moving it,” Michelle said, her voice pitched low, “except spirits. Hahaha!”

  Julie got a pencil and a notebook and sat down on the couch. “Fine. Just… go without me. That’s too weird for me.”

  Collette sat down in the chair that Julie had surrendered, and she added her slender fingertips to the group on the planchette. “Okay,” she said, nodding to Ellen. “Let’s do this.”

  Michelle asked, “What is it going to tell us? Our future?”

  “No. The spirit can tell you about itself, if it wants. Or it can tell you about yourself.” Ellen looked up at her. “It’s going to tell you secrets and things that you don’t want to hear.”

  Their hostess laughed. “Oh, okay. Sure it will.”

  “These things are dangerous,” Mike warned. “I mean, if you believe the stories I’ve heard.”

  “You mean creepypasta?” Theresa asked. “We can read some of those later. My favorite is the one about the black-eyed kids.”

  “Shh,” Michelle scolded. “We’re concentrating. Ellen, you’re on.”

  The young witch felt the power of the board lifting into the air, and she knew that the spirit of the board had been freed from its physical prison. She could hear it purring in her mind, and it draped itself over her back like a cloak. It felt like a cold, wet weight on her shoulders, and its trailed its icy fingertips over the back of her neck. The protective amulet of her pentacle necklace shivered, then dr
opped to the table in front of her. Its clasp and several links in the chain had completely vanished.

  The spirit chuckled in her ear.

  The girls had heard the thump of her necklace falling onto the table, and they all stared at the defiled necklace. She felt the spirit run its hands down her arms until it was grasping both of her wrists. The cold was almost unbearable, and then it began to sink into her body through her back.

  Ellen looked across the table at Mike, who was staring in pure alarm, his blue eyes as wide as they would go. She wanted to tell him to take the girls and run, but the words failed her. Instead, she said the only thing that the spirit would allow her to say before it took control completely.

  “By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.”

  Lisa rolled her eyes. “That’s from Macbeth. We just read it in English class, idiot. You can’t scare us with that.”

  Michelle smiled. “Go on, Ellen. Ask it its name. Julie, write this down.”

  The planchette began to move in a circle, slowly at first, but then with increasing speed. It began to move so quickly that they had trouble keeping up with it, the movement and the necessity of keeping their fingertips touching making them all sway in their seats.

  Ellen found her voice again, but even to her own ears, it sounded strange. She was still in command of her head and her heart, but her body was no longer her own. The spirit had taken control.

  Asssssk me, it hissed.

  “Spirit,” she said, her voice thick, “what is your name?”

  The planchette stopped circling and hit the letters in quick, sharp cadence. Collette announced them as they were indicated.

  “X-I-C-I-P-E.” She frowned. “What kind of name is that?”

  Julie looked down at the letters she had written. “How do you even pronounce it?”

  Mike picked up a pillow from the couch and held it tightly. “It’s not in English. That’s a demonic name.”

  “Oh, stop,” Michelle ordered, her tone light even though it was clear that his words had frightened her.

  “Maybe it’s Aztec,” Lisa suggested. “You know how Mexican names can have those X’s in them.”

  “Yeah!” Theresa agreed. “Are you an Aztec Indian?”

  “Native American,” Collette corrected.

  “Whatever.”

  The planchette moved to where the word “no” was printed on the board. It skimmed over the “yes” and the word “good-bye,” then began to circle again.

  “Okay. So you’re not an Aztec,” Michelle said. “Are you a demon?”

  In her head, Ellen heard it laugh.

  No.

  Her stomach sank. She asked in her mind, Are you a devil?

  The planchette went to “yes.”

  “No, but yes?” Lisa mocked. “Make up your mind.”

  DO YOU WANT TO TELL YOUR SECRET LISA

  “Ooh! Secrets!” Michelle laughed.

  Lisa answered quickly. “No.”

  “Yes,” their hostess countermanded. “Tell.”

  Her friend glared at her. “No.”

  “It’s my board. I say what it does.”

  “It’s not your board,” Ellen objected. “It’s Xicipe’s board.” She pronounced the name the way she heard it in her head - kishipee. The spirit laughed.

  “There’s no spirit,” Lisa said, “and there’s no secret.”

  DADDYS GIRL

  All of the color drained out of Lisa’s face. “Stop it.”

  AND YOU LOVE IT

  “Stop it! Ellen, stop it!”

  DADDYS SPECIAL WHORE

  Lisa pulled her hands away, tears in her eyes. “Make it stop.”

  Ellen couldn’t have lifted her hands if she’d tried. The planchette continued to circle, its pace even more rapid than before.

  “I can’t take my hands off,” Theresa cried.

  Collette agreed. “Neither can I!”

  “Then don’t,” Michelle snapped. “Spirit of the board, tell us more.” She leveled a malicious glare across the table. “Tell us about Ellen.”

  WHAT DO YOU WANT TO KNOW

  “Tell us her secrets.”

  “I don’t have any secrets,” she objected.

  WHO’S YOUR DADDY

  Theresa laughed. “This thing is obsessed with fathers, I think.”

  WHO’S YOUR DADDY ELLEN

  “Daddy issues,” Michelle smiled. “Spirit of the board, who’s your daddy?”

  DON’T ASK DON’T TELL RIGHT MIKE

  On the couch, the young man looked startled. “Leave me out of this.”

  TELL US ABOUT THE COACH MIKE.

  “I don’t like this game,” the quarterback said.

  THE TWO OF YOU ARE VERY CLOSE

  “Michelle, knock it off.”

  LIKE ONE BEING SOMETIMES

  Collette frowned. “I’m getting scared. Maybe we should quit…”

  THE BEAST WITH TWO BACKS

  He roared and leaped up from the couch. He knocked Michelle and Collette out of the way, tackling the table and ripping the planchette out of everybody’s hands. Collette fell backward, hitting her head hard on the edge of one of the end tables that flanked the couch. Ellen jumped up to her feet, and the feeling of the spirit left her.

  The basement was filled with a cold wind that whirled around them in a frantic circle, moving like the planchette had done. It was like a cyclone, the wind blowing fast and hard, making it difficult to stand. The teenagers clung to one another in the center of the storm.

  There was a rhythmic scratching sound from the patio door. The scarecrow was moving, clawing at the glass with the straw-stuffed work gloves that formed its hands. The girls screamed.

  “Make it stop!” Mike shouted at Ellen. “You can control this! Make it stop!”

  A voice spoke from the middle of the maelstrom. It was a deep voice, masculine and sneering. “Why don’t you pray, preacher’s son?”

  Mike opened his mouth, but no sound came out. The spirit laughed.

  The other scarecrows in the patio tableau struggled to their feet. With jerky motions, they began to slam themselves into the door, and the glass seemed to bow inward with every strike. Inside the room, every piece of paper, every plastic cup and even the remotes for the TV and DVR were caught in the spirit’s wind, creating a tornado of flying objects. The girls were crying and screaming, holding each other. Mike crept toward the girls and tried to protect them from the flying objects, shielding them with his body. Only Ellen and Collette, lying still on the floor, were outside his attempts at protection.

  Ellen stood.

  “By the power of the Morrigan, I command you to be gone.” She spread her arms out and raised her hands, adopting the pose from ritual of Drawing Down the Moon. “By the power of Hecate, the dark one, I command you to be gone! By the power of the Mother, you are commanded to be gone!”

  The wind ignored her and the spirit started laughing. The scarecrows beating against the patio door sounded like a drum. She knew, deep inside, what she needed to say, and the things she needed to admit. This was her test.

  She would not fail.

  “By the power of my father, I command you to be gone! Father, Satan, Evil One - retrieve your minion and return him into hell! I, your daughter, command this!”

  The spirit stopped laughing.

  Whirling still, the wind focused on the discarded board, lying abandoned on the floor. The wind made a sound like a train whistle as it spun tighter and tighter, a tornado of grey air focusing its tip on the center of the board. Like water down a drain, the spirit returned to its prison in the board, and all of the wind fell still. Outside, the scarecrows fell to the ground, inert once more.

  The sudden silence made her ears ring, but Ellen knew that the job was only partly done. She walked to the board and grabbed it in her hand, while with the other hand she inscribed a sigil on its face. The throbbing power of the spirit ebbed away, and the room was normal again.

  Or nearly so.

&n
bsp; Mike went to Collette and touched her head. His hand came away stained with scarlet.

  “Oh my God,” he moaned. “She’s dead.”

  Michelle stared in horror, and Lisa pointed at him. “You pushed her into the table.”

  “It was an accident!”

  “Mom!”

  Ellen stepped back, watching. In her head, a voice she had not wanted to hear but had been waiting for whispered, You claim me at last.

  She took a breath. Yes… Father.

  The circlet over forehead blazed with heat, and when she touched it, it was no longer in the shape of the three-moon symbol of the Goddess. Instead, the centerpiece was an interwoven inverted pentacle. She pulled it from her head and hid it inside her robe.

  Welcome back to me, my princess. Satan’s voice was full of pride. I have such plans for you.

  About the Author

  Tiegan Clyne has been writing for longer than most of her friends have been alive. She loves music, dark fantasy, and telling stories. Tiegan is a crazy cat lady in training and an all-around good egg.

  She has co-written the successful Reverse Harem Everafter Academy series with Scarlett Snow, and she can be stalked on Facebook: