Autumn Falls

by A. R. Kingston

  August 27, 1989

  It's been so long, too long if you ask me, and yet the same cycle repeats. Every five years she bathes in blood to keep her youth, and every twenty-five years she sacrifices three souls from the descendants of the original settlers to keep the guardian at bay. These days she goes by the name of Victoria Owens, and she put herself in charge of the very people who are supposed to save the lives of their fellow men...

  I must stop her, put an end to this madness, but despite working with the sleeping guardian to save souls and spoil the blood, I have found nothing to break her spell.

  September 10, 1998

  I think I did it, I think I cracked the spell she had on this place, and all it took was one soul which she intended to use in the Feast of Shadows. For years, I have been stealing souls from her, robbing her soul eaters of the untainted blood she needs to keep up her mask, but she always finds a way to kill without me knowing who it is. But now, now I have stolen the soul of one descendant and set another one free. A man, a healer of sorts, agreed to join the guardian and become part of this island in exchange for safe passage to the mainland for his wife and daughter, the daughter who is my direct descendant, or at least that of my sister. Agreeing to his terms, I gave his family a boat I had stashed a few years back and told the wife how to guide herself to shore. I told her everything I told the man and warned her to stay away from the island, keep her daughter away, and I watched as the man died by my hand, making the witch one soul short. One soul is all it took to wake the guardian, and now he fights, struggling to free himself. If the witch doesn't put him to sleep in twenty-five years with the blood of three more descendants, he will break through his chains and devour her alive.

  December 23, 2022

  The results of my efforts are showing more and more every day. Little by little the guardian is clawing his way out and breaking through his chains. I can see the cracks forming in the earth from where the entrance to hell is, the one by which he's bound. My new friend, my descendant, Cyrus sees it too. It won't be much longer until we set him free to take revenge upon the witch and release the people of Autumn Falls from their spell. I just pray the witch doesn't find the souls she needs, but I hear her plotting and I see her searching. This fight is only beginning, I can feel a war coming, one which we must win if we hope to survive. A deal was made, and now, the price must be paid. Question is, who will pay it, us, or the witch.

  Reading the last intelligible words on the ink-streaked page, Charlotte dropped the diary from her shaking hands. Her boss, the woman who lured her to Autumn Falls was a witch who was after her blood, and perhaps even her soul. While she was not sure if the child in the pages referred to her, she had a strong notion she was the descendant of the original settlers, and that it was her father who was being referred to. This explained why the island called to her, she always belonged there, and this was why her mother didn't want her setting foot in Maine. All these years she was trying to keep her away from Autumn Falls, and the fate which was bestowed upon her. And now, she was right where the witch wanted her, in her clutches, and she had Kevin too.

  Chapter Fifty

  “Don't lie to me. Don't deceive me. Give me the truth. Even if it breaks me. A painful truth is better than a pleasant lie.” —Yasmin Mogahed

  C harlotte was still processing everything she read when a sickening thought insinuated itself into her brain, turning her blood into glacial ice. The realization cut through her like a knife, and her knees buckled beneath her weight. Quick on his feet, Zack caught her in his arms and lifted her up while she continued to shake. Her stomach filled up with rocks and bile sat in her throat. The stagnant air burned in her chest with her lungs unable to expel, and hot tears pricked the corners of her eyes while she gasped for breath as if she was drowning.

  "Zack..." she mumbled, "do you realize what today is?"

  "No, what?"

  "It's the Feast of Shadows," came a voice from the woods. Charlotte didn't need to turn to know who it was, she recognized Cyrus' voice immediately. "So now you know the whole truth, Lottie, but unfortunately you learned it too late. And frankly, I wished you never did. I was hoping you'd leave this place before it got that far."

  "Daddy? Is... is that really you?"

  "I'm afraid so bug."

  "But how... I thought you died in that ambulance crash."

  "I did. Well, my body did. I, however, made a deal with the entity underneath us—a powerful native shaman—my soul in his service for your safe passage off the island, and away from the witch." Cyrus walked out to face her, the lines on his face appearing harsher in the dim light. "You were never supposed to end up here again, your mother was instructed to keep you away at all costs. Seems the witch's will was stronger than any of us have anticipated."

  "Does this mean you are a ghost?"

  "I guess in a way, I am."

  "Then how come you look older, and" she grabbed hold of his frigid hands, "how come I can touch you?"

  "Because I am not your average ghost. I am a servant of this island. We can appear in any way we wish. Clarence appeared to your mother as the young man he was when he died. To you he appeared as the creature he has become to scare you off. Me, I chose to appear as I would be now instead of how I was when I died. I hoped that if I kept my identity secret, you wouldn't want to stay and learn more about the hidden secrets of Autumn Falls. I even lured Zack here in an effort to guide you away."

  "What? That was you who called me here?"

  "Yes, afraid so. When Lottie said my grandson's father didn't know about him, I saw the longing in her eyes. She still wished to be with you. I called her mother straight away to find out more about you, and learned how you have called her several times, seeking to reconnect. That’s when I knew you had to come here, so I got your number and summoned you here, knowing you two would run into one another, eventually."

  "You called mom? Does this mean she knows what happened to you?"

  "Yes. I have been calling her every night for the past twenty-five years to receive updates on you. I felt like I was still in your life that way, and your mom was always happy to fill me in, although my grandson was a surprise. Guess she didn’t want me knowing you had him so young, or that his father wasn’t in the picture."

  "I see, does this mean you only called Zack because he was Kvein’s father, or because you thought I needed him?”

  "Both. I figured I'd give you two a second chance. I hoped that once he learned he had a son, he would drag the both of you off this cursed island before the witch had a chance to sacrifice you. But you are stubborn, much like your mother, and you refused to leave. That's when Clarence decided to show you the truth, hoping it would be enough to make you run, but unfortunately it came too late. The Feast of Shadows is already upon us. If all of you don't leave the island now, I am afraid every one of you will die, and everything will be lost."

  "Kevin..." Charlotte's heart leaped into her throat, "oh God, Zack, we left him alone with Iris, we need to warn them before someone attacks them."

  "You go grab them, and I'll go find Chuck, tell him to start the boat then meet you at the house, so we can all leave." Turning to Cyrus. "How long do we have?"

  "Oh, about an hour I'd say," Cyrus glanced up at the sky, "perhaps less."

  "All right, Cherry, we have to go."

  "I know, but we will never make it through the woods in time, I'm not sure I can find my way out."

  "You will if you follow Clarence," Cyrus nodded to the pigman standing in the tunnel's mouth, "He knows these woods like the back of his hand, he's lived in them for hundreds of years. Oh, and Zack, take care of my little girl, will you?"

  Nodding, Zack grabbed hold of Charlotte's hand and set off after the creatures who shrank down to the ground, crawling and gliding on the forest floor. In minutes, he had them out by the old hospital, pointing down the hill, which would be the fastest way to the house. Splitting up, Zack headed for the docks to warn Charles, while Charlotte ran for th
e house, praying it would not be too late when she got there, but something in the pit of her stomach churned and told her she would not like what she found, and her skin tingled, causing the hairs on her arm to stand up.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  “What is an evil man? The man is evil who coerces obedience to his private ends, destroys beauty, produces pain, extinguishes life.”—Jack Vance

  S he could see the Gambrel roof of the house peek over the top of the trees stripped of leaves. She was only a few minutes away when her feet stopped moving. It was as if the pavement had turned to tar, sucked her legs in, and prevented her from moving. Something pulled her back to the forest, compelling her to turn around and run from the house like a dog on a leash. She wanted to comply, but she couldn't leave Kevin behind, and she forced herself to keep moving despite the burning pain in her ankles radiating to her core with every step she took. Forcing herself to cover the short distance to the house, Charlotte stood on the front porch with her hand poised over the lock, trying to convince herself to open it. Taking a deep breath, she held the air in her lungs as she turned the knob and swung open the door, cautiously stepping inside.

  A death-like silence filled the house, and nothing moved, not even a shadow. She stood still and listened. There was a faint creaking of a door coming from the kitchen, but she lost any other sound amongst the clanking of water dripping into the metal sink, and the moaning of tress outside. A shiver tiptoed down her spine and goosebumps pricked her skin as she continued to listen for signs of life. Her gut told her something was not right. Calling out for Iris and Kevin, she waited, but there was no reply. They appeared not to be home. Thinking it was possible Chuck took them to the boat, she decided to check the house over one more time before heading for Lighthouse Point herself. Walking towards the stairs, she caught a glimpse of something from the corner of her eye. Diverting into the adjoining kitchen, she gasped when she saw what had drawn her attention.

  The black boot which poked out from behind the white island belonged to Iris, whose body was sprawled out on the tile floor. She lay unmoving, her cornflower-blue skirt fanned out around her body, her neck twisted to the side. This was how her body fell, and she hadn't so much as flinched since. Her pupils were dilated, she stared blankly into space, and a silent scream contorted her face. Charlotte did not need to check her pulse to know she was gone, but she did anyway out of habit before closing the young woman's eyes. Bowing her head, she sobbed softly out of guilt that her only concern was for Kevin and not for her friend who was murdered in the house while she was away.

  "So," a booming voice and heavy footfalls came from behind her, "you thought you could get away from me, did you?"

  "Bret..." Charlotte fell to the floor, turned, and scooted away from the imposing man, backing herself up against a cabinet. His dark brown eyes looked almost black, and he flicked his long brown hair away from his shoulders as he continued to scowl at her, filling her with dread. "What have you done here? Where is Kevin?"

  "Your little bastard is fine... for now. As for your skanky friend," he smirked through his patchy beard and glanced down at the body by his feet, giving it a swift kick, "well, let's just say she got in the way."

  "I knew you were a monster. Ever since we moved to Seattle, I knew what you were capable of, and I am glad I left you when I did."

  "You are a pathetic, worthless whore." Bret approached her, his board frame towering over her shaking body. "You didn't leave me. I allowed you to go so you could see you were nothing without me, and that your spawn needed more discipline in his life, so he didn't turn out as stupid and incapable as you."

  "I’ll ask you again, where is Kevin?" Charlotte stood up, finding the strength to shove him away. "What have you done with my son?"

  "I said he's fine." Bret snarled. "Come with me and I will take you to him. We can be a family again."

  "Fuck you. I wouldn't go back to you if you were the last man on earth, and I sure as hell won't let you lay another finger on my son."

  An icy glimmer glaze over Bret's eyes as he gritted his teeth, flared his nostrils, and smirked. Clenching one hand into a tight fist, he reached out and punched her across her face as hard as he could, knocking the air out of her, and making her stumble back towards the sink. Pressing a hand on the burning skin of her cheek, she held back her tears, looking up at him defiantly. This wasn't the first time he hit her, and it wasn't the worst. At one time he broke her arm by beating her with a PVC pipe when she accidentally knocked his glasses off his face, all while her five-year-old son watched helplessly from the doorway as she lay on the floor trying to defend herself. He turned a bright shade of red, narrowed his eyes at her, and she knew what was coming next, even before he stepped closer, pinning her in place.

  "Won't go back to me, huh? Yet you'd eagerly spread your legs again for that fagot, Zack Campbell." He spat in her face and brought a fist down on the counter next to her, making the dishes in the cabinet clank. "I always knew you were eager to get back with him. After all, you gave birth to his son and raised him instead of putting him up for adoption where he belonged. You thought some other man would step up and play daddy, but you were wrong, no man wants to take care of someone else's kid. Hell, Zachary didn't even want to take care of his own until now, and suddenly he is this big noble hero because of it. But you know what, Charlotte? He's just a fuck boy, always was, always will be. That man loves to look at himself in the mirror and hear himself talk, he won't provide you with what you need, only a real man can do that... only I can give you that."

  "I'd rather you go to hell."

  Snatching a knife from the counter, Charlotte swung it at Bret. Leaning back with a laugh, he dodged her and grabbed hold of her hand, shaking the blade free, and it fell to the floor with a clatter. Wrapping his free hand around her throat, he tightened his grip and lifted her up in the air, making it almost impossible for her to breathe. Struggling against his grip, she kicked at him and felt the pulse through his fingers that were digging into the pressure points on her skin. He paid no attention to her efforts to thwart him as he slammed her against the wall, causing her skull to crack on the plaster, giving her a splitting headache and causing her vision to blur into a dark tunnel before she forced herself back to consciousness.

  "You think you can attack me? You are weak, like your boy." He sneered. "I could kill you right now if I wanted to, but I won't. I'll go take care of fuck face, and then I will come take what is mine, whether you like it or not. You got that, bitch?"

  Not giving her a chance to respond, Bret balled up his hand and drove another fist into her temple with a loud thwack. Specks of light danced in front of her eyes before he delivered a second blow, sending her plunging into darkness. Her body grew limp, suspended between time and space even as he let go of her and let her crumble onto the floor. Floating in a sea of black, all Charlotte could do was think of Kevin, and Zack, but she was powerless to help them as her body released its grip on the material world and allowed her to sink deeper into a black fog, spiraling into the abyss of her subconsciousness.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  “The mind is its own place and in itself, can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.”—John Milton

  C harlotte felt weightless and free of pain, as if her soul disconnected from her body. She found herself walking in an underground cavern, with only a faint orange glow to guide her. Not knowing where to go, she followed the light to see where it would lead until she came upon a golden grotto bathed in warm light. Sapphires and rubies adorned the gold brick walls with carvings of silver depicting various erotic and violent themes. Sex and death intermingled into one magnificent picture as if pain and pleasure where indistinguishable from one another. Below her a pit of molten lava spattered and spewed up onto an onyx bride sprawling across a vast chasm. Winged statues of black gold lined the passage, their hooded heads bowed low as they leaned on their swords. At the center of a distant rotunda sat a scrawny creature bound in chains.


  The beast, at least six feet tall, emaciated with arms that stretched down to its knees thrashed and struggled against its restraints. The rusted chains creaked and groaned as the metal twisted and bent, and the monster mewed and snarled as it continued to fight. Compelled to help free him, she took one step onto the bridge. Her footfall sounded like the thunder outside, and the creature turned to look at her with its glowing amber eyes and let out a harrowing screech. Feeling her heart leap in her chest, she took a step back, pressing herself into a solid mass behind her.

  Turning, she saw a young man in a black robe, about seventeen or eighteen, standing above her. His loose, curly, shoulder-length hair fell across his gentle face and his dark green eyes regarded her softly. The young man shook his head, pressed two of his fingers against her forehead and pushed her back into the pit of lava. But instead of falling, she once again floated through space, lost in the cosmos until she woke up back at the house.

  Laying on the cool floor, she felt sick to her stomach. Her head throbbed as if a hoard of tiny drummers had taken up residence in her skull. The left side of her face stung and burned, and her mouth had a familiar, sweet metallic taste in it. She heard someone calling her name, gently nudging her shoulders, and she pushed herself off the floor, forcing herself to sit up. Opening her eyes, she found her left eye swollen shut. She could barely see through the murky crack her eyelid formed, and it hurt to have it open even that much. Iris sat beside her, and Charlotte gasped a breath of relief as she looked into the eyes of her friend who continued to sit and smile at her.