Wicked Cries (The Wicked Cries Series Book 1)

by Michelle Areaux

  I ran up to my room and took off my costume. I put my dress and boots in my closet and my hat on the dresser. I planned to give it to my mom when she returned to pack with the rest of my childhood items.

  I put on a pair of ripped jeans and a form-fitting white t-shirt I found in my closet. A pair of sapphire studs added just the right amount of color to my outfit, and a gray sweater finished it off. When I was done, I inspected myself in the mirror, happy with the casual, yet comfortable look.

  I went into my bathroom, sprayed on some perfume, and did a quick check of my hair before rushing back to my bedroom to return to the journal. The book opened to the bookmark I'd put in it to mark the last page I'd read. I propped myself against my headboard and took a deep breath to steel myself before jumping in.

  The crowd shouted after me as I raced through the dark streets in search of my father and any glimmer of hope I had to restore my family's virtue. When I reached my house, I ran inside, calling for my father as I searched each room, but the house was empty.

  I went into the kitchen and found a note on the table that read:

  Elizabeth,

  If you are reading this, I know you are safe. I cannot watch as your mother and sisters are hanged. I am sorry I left you, but I knew that we were sure to be next. I hope you are able to escape this town. I love Salem, but evil has taken hold of it and its citizens.

  I pray you will forgive me. I love you.

  My eyes filled with tears. I was alone. I alone had to do something. I slept in my empty house that night, alone.

  The next morning was slated to be the day of my mother's and sisters' deaths. I woke early, made my way into the forest, and spent the day sitting beneath the canopy of large trees. The day was cold and bitter. I worried I'd be forced to endure the harsh winter in the elements. December was upon us, as was the reality of winter. As I sat holding my legs against my chest in an effort to keep my body warm, a snowflake floated to my shoulder. It was indescribable, except to say it was beautiful and white. Another followed quickly after. Although I was shivering, and my fingers had grown numb, I was nevertheless mesmerized its beauty.

  I knew I had to get out of the cold, and there was only one option I could see, though my conscience begged otherwise‒I must push through the woods to visit Esmeralda’s cabin.

  Upon arriving, I hesitated before entering, but then walked over the threshold to meet a hideous odor. A fire burned low in the hearth, and I went to it and rubbed my hands together in an effort to take advantage of the heat it afforded. I looked around. There were many leather-bound volumes stacked in the corners. The cauldron I had seen that fateful day, was empty and sitting on the floor. I grabbed one of the books sitting atop a small table in the corner of the room, opened the cover to see spells and recipes for strange concoctions, and slammed the book shut.

  The house was that of the Devil!

  I walked back to the fireplace, took a small piece of bread from my pocket, and sat in front of the flame to rest my feet. As I ate my bread, I tried not to think about what evil beings had walked through these rooms.

  I must have fallen asleep, because when my eyes opened, the room was dark except for the small glow from the hearth. I left to make my way back to town, finding my way by followed the chants. When I arrived at the church, I scurried inside, in an attempt to remain hidden. Once inside, I watched the horror of my sisters and mother losing their lives at the hand of one of their fellow townsmen through the window.

  When it was done, I until the crowd had left before walking out into the cold of night, through town, and toward my house, making the effort to neither run nor hide. When I reached my house, I documented my tale so that years from now, someone would know the truth of the Salem witch hunts.

  I opened a journal and began to write. The smell burning torches were carried into the house through an open window, and I grabbed my father’s note, ran to my room, and locked the door behind me. The voices of the men with the torches were near and I knew I did not have much time left. I could have run to another town, far away, but then I would not be here, with my family.

  Reader, this is where we part ways. As I sit in my room, I am able to watch as the angry mob comes near, hear them banging against the front door, and now they are running up the stairs.

  I am not a witch. I have never practiced witchcraft. I am nothing more than an innocent girl accused of a crime I did not commit.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I closed the book, tears streaming down my face. "What happened?" I wondered aloud. Did she escape? Did they kill her?

  I was devastated‒Elizabeth had given me no answers, but a lot of questions. I was astonished at her bravery, but frustrated by the hints she'd dropped, only to leave me in my current state.

  Of course, they killed her; if they hadn't, she wouldn’t be haunting me, leaving me clues that indicated she needed my help. I was a mediator for the dead, after all, and I had a job to do.

  "Sadie? Hello? Are you here?" Noah’s voice called to me from downstairs.

  I glanced at the clock on my nightstand to find it was already after seven. I'd been so engulfed in the story that I'd lost all track of time. I wiped the tears from my face, and yelled, "Coming," down to him, before rushing down to meet him in the foyer.

  He stood there holding a bag of DVDs in one hand and a large pizza in the other. "I took the liberty of coming prepared," he said with a smirk.

  I ran over to hug him and almost knocked the pizza from his arms. He looked down at me with questioning eyes, certain he'd noticed my pale cheeks and red eyes, but out of kindness, he didn’t enquire about the cause.

  "Let’s go into the living room." I was anxious and upset, but I didn’t want Noah to know what was bothering me, at least, not yet. We had plenty of time to discuss the journal tomorrow; tonight, I wanted to enjoy our evening.

  I followed Noah into the living room where he placed the pizza on the coffee table in front of our couch. He held up three movies and asked me to pick the one we should watch.

  His eyes pointed toward the gory film. I didn’t want to tell him, but I wasn't a fan of horror. The only reason I'd agreed to watch one was so that I could be near him.

  I nodded to the one he'd not so subtly indicated, and he smiled in agreement, put the disk in the player, and sat next to me on the couch. He took the initiative to grab the remote to start the movie and then prepared me a plate.

  Taken aback by his generosity, I said, "Thanks" when he handed me my plate.

  He smiled and blushed in embarrassment.

  When we were finished eating and we were sure the last of the trick-or-treaters had gone, we started to watch our movie.

  A foreboding melody played as the opening credits scrolled up the screen. Over the credits, a college-aged, blonde girl walked into an abandoned house, not expecting to find an ax murderer lurking inside its walls. Even though I knew the outcome, fear and anxiety won out, and I jumped at all the right places.

  Noah tightened his arm around my shoulders each time, and every time I flinched he chuckled. "You really don’t like this, do you?" he asked when I buried my face in his chest.

  "No, it’s fine," I mumbled and peeked at the screen just as the blonde girl was being stabbed to death. I shrieked at all the blood and gore, prompting an uproar of laughter from Noah. He paused the film, put his fingers under my chin, and lifted my face up to view his.

  "You don’t have to be afraid," he said, his eyes gazing into mine. "I've got you."

  I snuggled deeper into his chest. "I’m not afraid‒I just like being in your arms," I replied, afraid to look up at him, but he forced me, using his hand to tilt my head back a bit. He positioned himself so he was sitting sideways on the sofa and took my hands in his.

  "Sadie," he said with a sigh, "I want to tell you something, but I’m afraid." His eyes darted away from me.

  "What is it?" I pleaded, anxious to hear what he had to say. My heart fluttered and my breath caught in my chest.
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  "I…I think I love you." His hands grew clammy, and body shook (I felt the vibration through the sofa).

  I'd never imagined anyone‒let alone someone like Noah‒would ever love me. The impact of his words, of what those words meant, set an intense fire ablaze, deep down in my heart.

  "I love you, too!" I exclaimed, and practically attacked him when I lunged forward and knocked him onto his back. I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my lips tightly against his as he laughed at my instant keenness.

  He sat up and kissed my forehead, sending pinpoint electric shocks through my entire body. It was hard to imagine another person could make me feel this incredible, but Noah did, and at this point, I refused to question the feeling anymore.

  "Well, I'm glad we finally got that out of the way. I've wanted to say that for weeks," he explained.

  "Really?" I couldn’t believe it.

  "Sadie, I feel like we have this unspoken connection, that we were meant to find each other. Do you ever feel that way?" I examined his face; he was anxious again. His eyes searched mine, hoping I'd quickly respond.

  I smiled and leaned in closer to him, whispering as I spoke. "Yes, I think it was destiny." His face beamed with happiness at my words.

  I grabbed his hands and pulled him up, off of the couch. "I want to show you something," I stated, pulling him toward the stairs.

  He appeared nervous as he followed me down the long hallway that led to my bedroom.

  Once inside the room, Noah stopped at the door, as if there was an invisible barrier there, prohibiting him from entering.

  I giggled at his shyness. "Come in, Noah‒I won’t bite." He slowly walked further into the room, examining the space. He noticed my posters and the books lining the walls on my shelves. I took his hand and pulled him over to the dresser. When he realized my intention, his face glowed with curiosity.

  "Do you want to see it?" I asked. We'd spent so much time talking about Elizabeth’s journal, but I hadn't shown it to him yet.

  He nodded, his fists clenched.

  I walked over to my dresser, put both hands on the edge of it, and pushed it away from the wall. Noah watched, unsure of what I was doing.

  "Hey, don’t you need someone strong to help you with that?" Noah had been leaning against the doorframe, amused, but now he seemed concerned with the weight I was attempting to move.

  "Well, when I find one, I'll have him help me." I smirked while glancing in his direction.

  "Hey, cheap shot," he retorted.

  "Sorry. I couldn’t help myself." I smiled and exhaled as I shoved the dresser away from the secret passage, then I leaned down and opened the small door for Noah to see.

  His mouth widened as he tried to speak. At last, he said, "Is that where you found it?" He gazed into the passageway in disbelief.

  I nodded and took the journal from its hidden home. "Be careful," I urged as I handed it to Noah.

  He held out his hands to accept the journal and we walked over and sat on the edge of my bed. He rubbed his palm against the dry leather. "This is amazing, Sadie. I can’t believe you found this." He opened the journal, staring down at the faded yellow pages as he carefully turned them, examining the delicate, faded ink. "If you sold this to one of the museums, you could make a lot of money," he said, eyes widened.

  "No," I said quickly, "it’s not mine to sell, besides. I just couldn’t do that." I reached over and took the journal from his hands.

  He looked hurt. "I'm sorry, Sadie. I didn’t mean anything disrespectful. It’s just that you have something truly amazing here." He looked remorseful and I felt bad for snapping at him.

  "I know, and I’m sorry, but I just feel like I have a connection with this girl, like I have to protect the journal for her." I kept my eyes focused on the journal as I spoke. I wasn’t sure if it was plausible, but Elizabeth’s journal had helped to create a new life for me. It was the journal that had helped me to open up and trust others. It had given me life again, and I owed it to her to keep it safe. I felt as though she'd written it knowing I would one day find it.

  Noah reached over and pulled me closer to him. "Thank you for sharing this with me. When you told me about Elizabeth on my boat, I wanted to know more." He looked deep into my eyes as he spoke. I lay back on the bed and he fell back, too, so we were lying side by side, our heads angled toward each other. Our eyes met, and in that instant, I could almost hear his thoughts, feel what he was feeling. It was like we were having a conversation, though neither of us spoke. The night sky quickly fell upon us, and as Noah and I drifted off to sleep, neither one of us aware of what was brewing.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  "Sadie? Noah? Where are you guys?" I heard my name being called from a distance. Was I dreaming? I jumped up, half expecting to see some angry dead girl, fists at the ready.

  "Sadie? Sadie!" No, I wasn’t dreaming.

  It was Lucy’s panicked voice that was calling out to me. Startled, I sat up quickly, noticing my room was near black. Noah was still asleep, so I nudged him, waking him gently. He rubbed his eyes groggily. When he saw it was dark, he shot up and off of the bed.

  "Lucy, we're up here." I ran to turn the bedroom light on as I heard Lucy's quick step on the stairs. When she ran into the bedroom, she was out of breath, and near panic. She gawked at the scene for a brief moment, unsure of what to infer.

  "Lucy, what's wrong?" I asked. I went over to her and put my arm on her shoulder. Her body was heaving erratically as she attempted to catch her breath.

  "Sadie, Salem Library's on fire. All the documents that have ever been recorded in Salem were located in that library." She was bent over now, clutching at her side.

  Noah grabbed her arm and helped me put her on the bed.

  "What do you mean, it’s on fire?" Noah looked at Lucy as if she were the one on fire.

  "I mean, flames are shooting out of every crevice in that building. Everything inside is destroyed. Firefighters are trying to put it out, but even if they do, everything will be gone." She spoke so quickly it was hard to make out what she was saying at times.

  I sat down next to her on my bed, my head spinning, as if someone had just hit me in the head with an aluminum bat. A sharp pain formed in my chest. How was I supposed to research my project? How would I ever find the answers for Elizabeth? I was nauseous at the thought.

  "Let’s go and see," Noah suggested, heading toward the door.

  Lucy and I jumped up and followed him down the stairs. He grabbed his car keys and we piled into his Jetta. He drove like a demon down Main Street. Spectators had gathered to view the massive fire and bid a farewell to one of the city’s landmarks. I watched as the vibrant orange and red flames shot into the jet-black sky. In spite of what it meant, the scene was devastatingly beautiful. Tears filled my eyes as I watched.

  Noah refused to stop the car so Lucy and I could get out. Instead, he drove us back to my house where, angered, he slammed his fist down on the hood of his car. Lucy and I watched in horror.

  "Noah, it's okay," I said, trying to calm him. "I mean, it's horrible that the town's lost its library‒trust me, it’s like my heart's been ripped from my chest‒but I can find a new topic for my project." I tried to conjure a smile, but my face refused.

  "No, I'm sorry the library's gone, too, but Elizabeth’s journal‒it means so much to you. How'll you ever get your answers?" His anger was because of me. He was worried about the journal. I couldn’t believe something that small would provoke such a reaction from Noah, of all people.

  "Noah, I had no idea it meant…well, anything, to you." I stepped forward to place my hand on his arm.

  "I think it's amazing that it's still even readable, but it makes you happy, and I don’t want you to be upset."

  I leaned closer to him and gave him a sideways hug. I felt such compassion and love for him at that moment. No one had ever been that concerned with my happiness before. I felt selfish at how excited I was over his anguish toward the fire. That library mean
t so much more to others than it probably did to me, but my answers were nothing more than a pile of ashes now.

  "Noah, I love you so much. Thank you for caring." He rubbed my shoulder as he held onto me. The cold air had begun to hit me, and I shuddered at the cold chill that ran down my spine.

  Lucy had her head down as tears slowly crept down her face.

  "No, it will not end like this, Sadie. Look, everyone's watching the fire‒let’s go into the woods tonight and try to find that grave marker." He put his hands-on top of his head and paced back and forth as the answer came to him, his breath was like white heat as it escaped from his mouth into the icy air.

  "Noah, that’s crazy. It's thirty degrees outside!" I hugged myself and shivered at the thought of actually searching for the answers. I was scared, but I wasn’t about to admit that to either of them.

  "Sadie, I think it’s a great idea. No one will see us." Lucy ran over to me and took hold of my arms. "Come on, don’t you want to put an end to this? You said the other day at dinner that you thought it was a good idea to go and discover what was hidden in there. We could finally figure out what happened to Elizabeth, so she can move on, and you can be at peace, too."

  They both stared at me, pleading with their eyes for me to join in on the adventure. I had to admit, the thought of finally putting to rest this thing with Elizabeth did sound pretty great, but then the realization that after Elizabeth moved on, some other angry dead girl would only track me down to take her place, and I felt sick to my stomach.

  Would this madness never end? Would I ever be able to live a normal life like my friends, not haunted by ghosts, or whatever they were? I had to finish my adventure with Elizabeth first, and then I could worry about what would happen in the future. Focusing back to the now, I realized Noah and Lucy were waiting on me to say something. "How will we see?" I asked, pointing out the complete darkness that surrounded us.

  "I have some emergency flashlights in my trunk. They should work," he stated, unfazed by the concern growing in my voice. Noah went and got two large, orange flashlights from the back hatch of his car. He handed one to Lucy and he carried the other one himself. He instructed me to go home and put on a heavier jacket. I obeyed, and Lucy followed. We gathered gloves, hats, and bottles of water, in preparation for our endeavor, giving each other one another one last glance before we started walking down the street, toward the forbidden wooden area.