Vic shook off his anxiety and decided to keep his standing poker plans with his friends. Katherine always enjoyed having the evening to herself. She usually drank a glass of wine, took a bath, and read a book. As she was keeping to her normal routine, she drew a bath and poured the wine. With Vic away, the eerie feeling returned. She disregarded it, knowing she would be fine – even when the powerful force held her head under water until she drowned.
Come back to life and again feel brave
I won't be sent to a watery grave
Katherine got out of the bathtub. She coughed and sputtered the rest of the water from her lungs. Just because she died didn't mean it was comfortable to be not-dead. She decided to keep this episode from Vic. He was already shaken up from his own near-miss.
Vic came home from his poker game and climbed into bed with her. It had been a long evening, adding to the exhaustion he was already feeling. Katherine began to wonder if the potion she was giving him was taking a toll on his health rather than preserving it.
Katherine was growing stronger by the day. Apparently drowning suited her just fine. Her senses became heightened, and she was much more aware of her surroundings. She was also becoming just a little bit cynical. It's hard to trust the world when it keeps trying to end your life. Rather than continue to accept her death - over and over again - she decided she would find out how to prevent it and find out who was behind her murders. She needed to protect her husband, too.
Her visit to the old woman was depressing. The Reaper had called on her three times, and she was looking frail. It was important, now more than ever, to stop the insanity.
"Isn't there a way I can find out who is doing this? Are you sure you didn't see who is responsible? This is getting really old."
"Katherine, I can give you one more potion. You can only use it one time, but it will give you the ability to see what is going on around you as your life is ending."
"And just how am I supposed to know when my life is ending? It usually occurs rather quickly. I don't exactly have time to stop to drink something."
"You'll know when to take it."
"And what's the drawback?" asked Katherine.
"You will absorb some of the evil of the one who haunts you. Are you really prepared to do that?"
"If it helps end this madness, I'll take the risk. There's one thing I've learned for sure through all of this: What doesn't kill me makes me stronger. I can handle that consequence."
"Katherine, are you sure?"
"Yes."
Vic lay on the sofa in his office contemplating everything that had transpired up to this point. Never in a million years – or at least a hundred – would he have predicted that the young witch just wouldn't stay dead. He'd gone to great lengths to prepare for her death. Well, the first one, anyway. He'd watched her running off into the woods at night as a cute little kitty cat. He'd kept track of her routines. He played all of his cards right, and he even made himself out to be a model husband. Damn lot of good that had done him.
As a well-seasoned warlock, he should've only had to kill her one time. One and done. He knew that she was learning something from the old woman but had no idea what it could be that trumped his powers. It must be something out of the ordinary because every time he killed her, he became weaker, and she became stronger. She was hidden from the Reaper, and it was becoming more and more difficult for him to project his tortured spirit into her path. She no longer feared his evil presence in their house. Killing her was becoming a real challenge.
It was almost maddening that he had to think of different ways to introduce her to the Reaper. What little soul he had left actually didn't enjoy thinking of those macabre things. Nevertheless, he planned her electrocution and an episode of blunt force trauma to the head. Poisoning would be easy, but strangulation would not. He might have to try that first since his power might be too far diminished to carry out the task later.
He had to end this soon. There was other young witch ready to take her place. He saw her regularly. Poker night? Yep. He'd poke her. She was becoming impatient, and Vic had discouraged her from taking matters into her own hands. He had visions of other things for her to take into her own hands. And her mouth. And her…
Vic snapped out of his daydreaming. Now was not the time to be sidetracked - he had several more murders to plan. The year was coming to a close, and he couldn't start a new one with her in it. This really had to end soon.
Pulling into his driveway that evening, he passed up an opportunity to end her life again. He could've pulled up too far and pinned her between the car and the wall of the garage. The problem was that if she recovered again, she would know it was his fault. He couldn't risk her finding out it. He resolved to switch her medication that night to something more lethal.
Katherine's nighttime routine had been the same for years. Brush teeth, take out contact lenses, take medicine, give the dogs a snack, change into her pajamas, and hop into bed. The night of her fourth death was no exception. The only change was the acrid taste of her pills when she swallowed them.
As Katherine began to slip into her death sleep, she conjured the spell she needed to escape the Reaper. As she thought quickly about which words would bring her back to life, she remembered one simple fact: Only Vic knew where she kept her medication. It took only a moment for her to find the appropriate words.
Your evil ways won't stop my heart
You'll pay for your sins 'til death do us part
Katherine slipped away into unconsciousness, knowing what she needed to do once she came alive again.
Katherine spent the next few weeks watching Vic's every move. She also had to watch her back since it was likely that he would kill her again soon. She was aware of the smell of propane that permeated the house as they slept. She moved her hair dryer when she found it a little too close to the bathtub. She decided not to put lights on the Christmas tree since it posed too much of a risk. It was clear that evil forces were involved when it came to his involvement in her death, but she couldn't figure out how.
Katherine went through the motions of her weekly evening alone, and when she was satisfied that Vic thought she was settled, she called on her new knowledge to find him. The old witch had said that she would have knowledge as she needed it, and this was one of those times when the next actions became clear to her. As it turned out, Vic's weekly poker night was actually a standing date with a young witch from another coven. Katherine would deal with her later. She smiled, though, knowing that if she did meet the Reaper, Vic would never love the young witch. She frowned, however, knowing that the young witch was known to only cavort with warlocks.
How could she have missed that? All of these years she thought she was the only one with a secret to hide. Apparently she was wrong, but at least now she had a new perspective on his actions.
As she followed Vic home, Katherine was determined to put a stop to his attempts to end her life. She recalled the old woman stating that death could only occur at midnight as a new year began, but that didn't necessarily mean her death. It was time for Vic to face the Reaper – and the Reaper would find him. She just had to mind her timing.
Stopping by the old woman's cottage, Katherine hoped to find out it she had any additional information about her visions. She was not prepared to see the old woman bedridden, and she instantly felt remorse for the toll her extra lives had taken on her mentor.
"Katherine," whispered the old woman. "Do not weep for me. I have outlived many witches before me, and it is time for you to carry on. You have discovered what you need to know. Now is the time for action, not for hesitation. Plan well; your failure will cost you your life."
No pressure or anything.
On the drive home, Katherine began to feel the dark presence that had always preceded her death. Knowing that she would soon be non-dead yet again, she reached for the potion the old woman had given her. It was rather slimy, but Katherine didn't stop to wonder what was in it. She figured she'd rather not know, anyway. Wh
atever it was, it wasn't going to kill her.
After a few minutes, Katherine was drawn to a quick vision in her rearview mirror. For a brief moment, she saw Vic tampering with something under the hood of her car. She couldn't see exactly what he was doing, but it must be what caused her to lose control and veer off the road, into an old oak tree.
This time around the bastard wrecked me.
But I've got the medallion to protect me.
"God dammit! I really liked that car!" she said as she walked away from the wreck. The smell of gas was beginning to fill the air, but Katherine thought nothing of it. She was too busy plotting Vic's demise. She only had two days until New Year's Eve, and her plot had to be executed perfectly, up to the very last minute.
Living with Vic would be very awkward now that Katherine knew they were trying to kill each other. She had the upper hand, though, since he didn't know she was aware of his duplicity. The confusion in his eyes let her know that he wondered why she wasn't dead yet. Clearly no one was going to initiate a conversation about their current predicament, so they would continue to live together as normally as possible while they planned each other's death.
She had cleared out her Internet browser history several times. Although she was preparing to murder her husband in self defense, she really didn't need to leave a trail indicating her intentions. She had stopped giving him the potion long ago since it would make it that much more difficult to end his life. She didn't need any complications. Making herself look innocent was challenging enough.
Vic entered his home with an air of confidence. He'd spent weeks practicing the highest form of black magic in order to kill his wife for the last time. If this plan didn't work, nothing would. It was late when he arrived, and she was nowhere to be found. It gave him some time to rest since he would need all of the energy he had to pull off his plan.
It was nearly midnight when Katherine finally arrived. It was time to dispense with the pretense that they were happily married. They both knew what was happening, and she decided to end the charade. She knew she was more powerful than he was, but she really didn't need to use it to her advantage. Her plan was simple.
"Katherine, where have you been? You never stay out this late. I was beginning to wonder if–"
"Vic, let's stop pretending. We're both well aware that one of us needs to be dead by the end of the night. You've killed me how many times now…four, is it?" she said, and she laughed at him in mockery. "You can keep trying, but you won't end me. I'll even give you one more shot at it. What's your choice? Have you come to wrap me up in some of your black magic? Because it won't work."
Vic laughed. "Your overconfidence is astounding. Throughout all these years, you never knew that I'm a warlock. You mistook me for being such a dutiful husband. How foolish could you be? And now you think you can kill me? You think I haven't found a weakness in you?"
"You've grown weaker every time you've killed me, haven't you? You can find every vulnerability I might have, but you still can't pull off the final act. I admire your persistence. Why don't we have a drink for old time's sake, and then we'll get down to business."
Katherine poured a cup of tea for each of them and offered one to Vic. The minutes were ticking away to midnight, and the Reaper would come soon to collect his prize.
"Really, Katherine? Do you think I'm going to drink anything you've made? You go first."
Katherine laughed and drank all of her tea at once. Vic was surprised when nothing happened to her. She held up a cup for him, motioning for him to drink it.
"Obviously it's had no ill effect on me. I told you – one last drink to the future we'll never have, and a past we shouldn't have had."
Vic tipped his cup and took one small swallow. After a few moments, he fell to the floor, unable to move. He looked at Katherine with contempt, and also with a question in his eyes.
"Hemlock, Vic. I'm surprised you didn't notice it growing in the garden. Of course it wasn't going to affect me. Not only have I built up immunity to it, I couldn't even kill myself if I tried. You never noticed the drops I put in your coffee, and I stopped giving them to you once I learned you were trying to murder me."
Vic tried his best to struggle but found himself unable to move. His system was shutting down with the paralysis, but he could still hear every word she was saying. His eyes widened as she brought the tip of a knife to his throat, and his eyes filled with fear at the satisfaction she took in finally winning the game.
"Don't struggle, darling. It won't do you any good. It'll only make the incision sloppy, and I can't have excess blood on the floor." She made a small cut on Vic's neck. "Now I have about four minutes to let you bleed out, and then the Reaper will come for you at the stroke of midnight. You wonder why he won't find me? Do you see this beautiful medallion on my neck? It will keep me hidden from him."
Vic recognized the medallion instantly. He had assumed he'd just misplaced it, but it had somehow made its way into her possession. He knew at that moment that the Reaper would never see her, and he lay on the floor awaiting his arrival.
Katherine placed her hand on Vic's throat. "You're bleeding entirely too fast. Let's slow this down a bit."
Vic watched as Katherine consulted her watch for about a minute. He couldn't believe how much pleasure she was taking in his suffering. He truly had underestimated her, and he could only wonder how she had turned into such a callous person. No doubt it had something to do with his mother. He'd seen them working together. She'd wanted him dead for quite a long time, and she had apparently manufactured a story about a vision in her mirror in the hopes of luring Katherine to plot his death. It worked wonderfully, though the old woman would never live long enough to see him dead.
"Okay, time's up," said Katherine, and she took her hand from his neck, letting the blood flow freely. He slowly began to slip away, listening to the chimes of the grandfather clock as it struck midnight. Almost immediately, the Reaper found him.
Katherine threw her head back and laughed with a deep, throaty roar. At once she realized that the old woman's words finally made sense. No matter how hard he'd tried, Victor would never win. Kat had at least nine lives, and he'd taken only a handful of them.
What Lurks Within
Bella Roccaforte
The first time I saw her she was five and I was seven. That moment was magic for me. Of course she didn't see me, but that goes with the territory. This was my first assignment. Well, actually I was kicked out because they couldn't find my parents and decided it was best for me to get into the field and start working. Always having had a different sort of attitude toward our work, I wasn't Mr. Popular, but I suspect it had more to do with the fact that there was no one to pay my tuition.
The training was very rigorous; I mean, this is a very important thing that we do. My instructor Ben and I were walking in the woods the day he sent me out. He had taken me under his wing and told me, "Never let anyone tell you that what you do isn't important, because it is."
To that I had replied, full of innocence: "Why is it so important?"
He stopped dead in his tracks, tucking his wings behind him with a huff. A foul breeze wafted in my direction. "Because..." He paused a moment, resting one claw on his chin in contemplation. "...Because it is. It just is."
So there I was, at the wee age of seven, out on my own. Ben did me the service of dropping me in an affluent neighborhood. He said these people were less likely to have firearms or big vicious dogs. He gave me one last forlorn look before he disappeared into the darkness. I heard his voice in chorus with the flapping of his wings. "You would do well to fall into the darkness and choose your home soon."
That's exactly what I did--I walked the streets, keeping to the shadows. A warm glow came from a beautiful house with a wraparound porch--the perfect place to hide under, waiting for those magic words that would summon me, the Boogeyman. Once summoned, I could slip through the window. There's always the chance that it could take days before it happened. But
it didn't because it was meant to be.
It was fitting that I found Heidi on this night. The night of new beginnings, New Year's Eve, it also happened to be Heidi's birthday. There she was, beautiful blond hair streaked by the sun in a mess of curls that bounced up and down each time her feet hit the bed.
Her mother scolded her, "Heidi, you stop that this instant!"
"But Mommy, it's fun! I like to bounce. It helps me sleep." She squealed, bounding higher.
"Heidi Anne Brock! If you don't mind your mother, the Boogeyman is coming." Her father entered the room, waving his finger like a dagger, and tickled her until she fell onto the bed.
Ah, the words I longed to hear. I was in! As soon as they flipped the light switch off I had carte blanche to do whatever I wanted. I was an invited guest! Rubbing my hands together under the porch to ward off the chill, I knew it wouldn't be long before the darkness took over and I could go in.
Heidi settled under the covers, properly tucked in. Her parents turned out the lights and closed the door.
My cue! As quietly as I could manage I slipped in through the window. She stirred a couple of times, but I made it under the bed just before she shot up in alarm.
"Who's there?" she whispered.
"No one," I answered, covering my mouth immediately upon recognizing my folly. What an idiot.
"It has to be someone. You just answered me," she said with a giggle in her tone.
My eyes shifted left and right and I inched further under the bed, trying to be as quiet as possible. I thought about answering, but I knew Ben would have been upset. Trying to recall my training to figure out what was next, the frustration coursed through me. I'm getting this all wrong...
"I can still hear you breathing." Her voice was an irritated whisper, but not scared. I was certain she'd never been scared.
The Stroke of Midnight: A Supernatural New Year's Anthology Page 20