As I gazed at my reflection, it looked like I had three heads swaying back and forth. “This is weird,” I laughed to myself. I started the faucet and attempted to splash water on my face, but I missed, and it spilled it on my dress. I giggled to myself again. Wait, this is not funny. Professor Rose bought this for me. My thoughts were all over the place. Miles, I thought. I need Miles. I needed to tell him about Frances. I pictured him standing outside the bathroom door waiting for me. I used the image of his perfect face as motivation to force my feet to move. It’s working. It’s working. It’s…Everything went black.
The Black Forest
Iblinked several times trying to clear my vision. Something wet was in one of my eyes, matting my lashes together. Did I drool in my sleep? My head was throbbing, and I had a bad taste in my mouth. Yuck! This was the worst nap ever. My head was still fuzzy like I was trapped in a dream. I need to wake up, I told myself, still unable to see. I let my eyes close again, and I began to drift back into the dream. It was too hard to wake. Sleep felt better. No, I grumbled to myself again. Miles will be here any minute. My heart stopped beating for a moment. Miles? I already saw him. At the dance. Wait, did I already go to the dance?
A flood of memories came rushing back: Our silly picture before we entered the ballroom. The way Miles whispered my name during our slow dance. The punch. The punch! I gasped loudly, forcing my eyes to peel open. The liquid dripped in my left eye and it stung. I refused to close them, though. I wasn’t safe in my bed. I wasn’t on the bathroom floor where everything went black.
I assessed my situation, frantically, realizing the danger. I was sitting upright in a chair. There were cables wrapped around my arms as if to pin me down, but even if they weren’t there, I wouldn’t have been able to move anything below my shoulders. Some sort of a spell had obviously been cast, leaving me momentarily paralyzed. My mind flashed back to Headmistress Craw’s class. She had seen the paralysis spell with her own eyes and taught it to us. I had practiced the words. I felt sick to my stomach. Glancing down, I saw I was still wearing my dress from the dance but was missing a heel. There was a vibrant red splattered on one of my lace sleeves. I turned my head in a less than comfortable way to see where the color came from. Blood. Was I bleeding?
I wasn’t alone. Sitting straight across from me was Headmistress Craw. I felt furious when I saw her. She was the one that taught this spell to students at the school, and I had a horrible feeling it was a student who was behind all of this. A student who was in my class. A student who used a fake apology to take advantage of me.
Headmistress Craw was slumped down in her chair, unconscious, but she had cables wrapped around her just like I did. Since she was slumped down, I could see the side of her head, the way it was gashed open. She had been hit with something. And very recently. The wound was too large to heal itself. Blood was dripping on the ground slowly. Drip. Drip. Drip.
“Headmistress,” I hissed as quietly as I could manage. Despite the anger I felt towards her at the moment, I knew she was my only chance to make it out of this. “Headmistress Craw, please.” I heard the hysteria slipping into my voice. It shook. I tried in vain to kick my feet.
I stared at the pool of blood forming on the ground. It covered the leaves that were scattered on the dirt. I looked around, beyond my immediate surroundings, for the first time. I knew where I was. The Black Forest. Exactly where in the Black Forest was a mystery, but I recognized the tall trees. I turned my head as far around as possible looking for some sight of the castle, but there was nothing. Nothing but monstrous trees all around me. There was a glint of light to my left, but the dripping blood made it hard to see. I also felt heat coming from that direction. There was a fire. But who set it ablaze?
Someone was out here with us. Frances was already in my mind. She must be behind this. I already knew she spiked my punch. She was messing with me. She meant what she said when she admitted her jealousy of me and my family and was punishing me for being gifted. Payback for having a powerful family. What kind of sick revenge was this? And if it was revenge, why did she bring Headmistress Craw out here, too?
A sick feeling sunk in as I heard voices approaching. My heart started to race, and my breath came in small, short spurts. I was panicking. I tried to move my arms, but it was useless. Oh no! Oh no! If I could not remain calm, I could die here. I forced myself to breathe slowly so I could listen to the voices approaching. They weren’t whispering which meant one thing: we were nowhere near the castle. They weren’t worried about being heard. I recognized one voice immediately. I wasn’t surprised when I heard Frances’ deep voice cooing to whoever the other person was. It was a man’s voice, that much I could tell. I even recognized the voice. I had heard it somewhere before, but I couldn’t hear well enough to place it. Who was evil enough to participate in...whatever this was?
Their feet dragged along, crunching on leaves. Their voices stopped, but I got the sense they were close to me. The pair paused in front of the fire and I saw their shadows: Frances’ tall, slender body with her long limbs reaching out to touch the unidentified man’s face. She caressed it lovingly. “I’m sorry. I love you,” I heard her murmur.
“I love you, too, my devil,” said Professor Howard, with a hint of annoyance in his voice. My heart sank to my feet. I could have thrown up. Professor Howard?
The two love birds moved from the fire to step directly in front of me. It was true. Professor Howard was standing in the middle of the Black Forest with his arm wrapped around Frances’ waist. The betrayal cut deep, and if I wasn’t wrapped to the chair, I probably would have collapsed. I trusted this man. I spoke with him every single week about school, my friends, my parents. I would have never guessed he was capable of this. Professor Howard stared down at me smirking, and his eyes looked like I had never seen them. They were dark. Maybe it was because we were out in the woods at night or maybe it was because they were dead. I saw no emotion except anger and no color except black.
I imagined his smirk came from my shock. He was pleased. I didn’t want him to know what I was feeling, but my face had, no doubt, already betrayed me. No. I would not give him the satisfaction. I turned my face to stone, forcing the numbness I felt in my limbs to spread to my cheeks and lips and eyes, so it was only my heart, concealed and secret, that ached. His smirk disappeared. Irritation replaced it.
“Hi, Josie,” Frances smiled and waved at me as casually as if we were passing each other in the halls. “I’m so glad we’re friends now.” My face remained stone even as the anger boiled my blood. I wanted to hit her, but my frozen body wouldn’t allow it. “You never saw this coming, did you?”
“Frances, dear, can you stop talking to our sacrifices?” Professor Howard asked Frances while placing his hand gently on her cheek. I could hear a hint of exasperation in his voice, but he did his best to cover it with a sweet, calming tone, like pouring honey on a rash. One word from him was enough to make Frances close her mouth. She looked at the ground like she was a child that had just been scolded. Which I guess was pretty accurate.
The word “sacrifices” finally registered in my brain. I waited for the panic to come, but it did not. I kept my face stone, though my heart still felt betrayed. I suppose I could have guessed we were sacrifices. They busted the Headmistress’ head and drugged me to get me here. It was obvious we weren’t returning to North End after all this.
“I need to finish the calling spell. Can you take care of these two by yourself?” Howard asked as if he were speaking to an infant, obviously not confident in Frances’ abilities.
“They are both under a paralysis spell and one is unconscious. I think I can handle it,” she assured him, letting him know she was offended by his doubt. But I heard how her voice shook as she mumbled the last sentence. Frances wanted him to see her as a capable woman, but even she was still unsure. Professor Howard stepped out of my line of sight. I couldn’t tell how far into the woods he walked, but it was far enough that the sound of his feet crunchi
ng leaves became too quiet for me to hear. Frances was pacing around our chairs, wringing her hands. She was nervous. I had to at least try to talk some sense into her.
“What are you doing, Frances?” I asked, making my voice sound as innocent as possible.
“You two are sacrifices, didn’t you hear?” She stopped pacing and whipped her head in my direction. Her voice was coated in sarcasm. She was still in her dress, and the fire glinted off it.
“Sacrifices for what? You’re not the kindest person I know, but I never took you for a murderer.” Which was true. I knew Frances had a mean streak and she wasn’t above sabotage, but I never feared for my life in her company. I also never suspected Professor Howard would be capable of harm, though. Or that he was seeing Frances, not Professor Rose, secretly. My stomach churned at the thought of an older—much older—witch dating a student. There was a lot I had missed even when it was right in front of my face.
“I am not a murderer,” she enunciated every word and started pacing again. “I am a Follower. I am devoted.” The three words she was saying were synonymous. When she said “Follower,” she meant she followed the Fallen Angel. And every Follower of the Fallen Angel had or would kill someone at some point in their lives. Followers thought this action was not only justified, but necessary.
If I wasn’t paying attention, I wouldn’t have noticed the way Frances couldn’t stop pacing, the way her words shook, the way she wrung her hands uncontrollably.
“Why, though? Why do you have to sacrifice us?” I pleaded.
“It must be done. It is his will,” Frances gazed at the full moon shining through the trees. She thought this is what the Fallen Angel wanted.
“Is that really all you know, Frances? Whose will is it really? The Fallen Angel’s or Professor How--?” I whispered, still unsure of Howard’s location. He could not overhear this conversation if I had any hope of surviving. It was clear who was in control.
She interrupted me frantically before I could finish. “Howard speaks to him. He has a direct line of communication. He has met with him several times. The Fallen Angel wants this,” she justified.
“So, you’re just going to follow blindly without any explanation of why you’re killing someone? Without even seeing the Fallen Angel yourself?” I could see beads of sweat forming on her head. There were cracks in her logic. She felt guilty somewhere deep down.
“That is my...duty. That is f-faith,” Frances stuttered. I could do this. I could change her mind. I just had to keep her talking.
“Did you kill that girl, Frances? Laura?”
“No,” she answered quickly, whipping her head to look directly in my eyes. Her voice was low suddenly. “That was Howard. He needed power to perform this ceremony. So, he had to kill her. To make him stronger. Killing a witch makes you much stronger than before.” I wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince: me or herself.
“Frances, I think Howard may have lied to you. Killing a witch does give you more power, but only the amount of power that witch possesses. That girl did not have much power. She was only 13.”
“You’re a poor liar,” she accused, looking at me with disgust.
“Do you know what else killing a young witch does?” I continued. She did not interrupt this time. She wanted to hear it. “It keeps you young. You steal their youth.” Frances stopped pacing for a moment to process what I just said.
“Maybe so. Then that must be the Fallen Angel’s will,” she rationalized, starting to pace again. “You wouldn’t understand. Not even I understand, but I follow. I obey. So one day I can meet the Fallen Angel myself. Howard assured me that if I helped him, he would make that happen.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer to my next question, but with a lump in my throat, I asked anyway. “What about Lillian?” my voice was barely audible. “Was that you?” I tried to keep my face stone, but I could not stop a tear from falling down my cheek.
Frances’ pace quickened. She rolled back her shoulders before looking me straight in the eyes and answering. “Yes. It was me.”
The lump in my throat doubled in size and I could no longer keep my face stone. Frances attacked my best friend, tried to kill her. More tears poured down my face while my eyes burned through Frances. I saw red. “Is that why you went to see her, then? To finish the job?”
“No!” she yelled. Her voice echoed through the trees. I looked around quickly checking to see if Professor Howard had heard her. Frances was turning her head doing the same. When she felt sure he hadn’t, she continued. “I went there because...I felt guilty, okay?” She put her hands on her hips and shook her head like she was ashamed. “Wilmot said I needed to kill to prove my loyalty, but I didn’t want it to be her.” I felt sick as I realized she was using Howard’s first name. “I wanted to choose a first year student, one I didn’t even know, but I was in the library with him that night. And Lillian heard us. So, Wilmot said it had to be her and it had to be right then. She could not escape or everything we worked for would be ruined. She would tell Craw. I couldn’t even do it right,” she scoffed at her own words with revulsion. “A part of me didn’t want to kill her. It’s not the same as killing a stranger or someone you barely know or someone you hate even. To kill someone you grew up with is barbaric.” Her words were spilling out so quickly I could barely understand them. “But I had to do it. He said I must. So, I tried. And I panicked like an inexperienced child.” She said the word “child” as if it made her sick. I had a feeling some of these words had not just come out of her mouth, but Professor Howard’s, as well. “I told myself I went to see her in the hospital so I could finish the job, but that wasn’t true. I felt guilty. I’m such a young fool!”
“You’re not a fool!” I hissed. “How could anyone take another’s life and not feel guilty?” Maybe if I reassured her, she would set me free. I could see the panic in her eyes, hear the doubt in her words, and she even admitted to feeling guilty herself. She was about to crack and if she did, she would let us go. But I had to do it before Professor Howard returned. If he came back, she would do whatever he said. He had some sort of a hold on her.
Frances stopped pacing and walked towards me. She stopped a few feet away from my chair. “I just want to make him happy,” she said with tears in her eyes.
“The Fallen Angel or Professor Howard?” I asked.
She shrugged and shook her head like the answer was obvious. “Both.”
In that moment, I had never felt sorrier for a person. Frances was being manipulated. She was too young to fully understand what was even happening to her. So was I. She thought Howard loved her, and she would do anything to please him. Even kill for the Fallen Angel.
“Have you ever seen the Fallen Angel, Frances?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. A single tear slipped out of her eye and she took a ragged breath in. “Is there any way that Professor Howard could be...lying?” Frances gazed off into the forest like she was searching for him. She looked like a lost puppy. “Please,” I whispered desperately. “You don’t want to do this. Let us go.” When she turned to face me again her tears had stopped. She started walking towards me, her hands already reaching for the ties that bound me to the chair. Yes! Yes! I thought. She’s going to undo the spell! She’s going to—
Before I could finish my secret celebration, a dark hooded figure appeared behind Frances. “Look out!” I screamed, but it was too late.
Salvation
The hooded figure slugged Frances in the back of the head with a book. A book that had “M. Langley” etched on the cover. I watched her fall and it all seemed to go in slow motion. Her eyes rolled back when the book made contact with her head and her body seemed like it was detached from her mind. It crumpled on the way to the ground uncontrollably. She fell at my feet and a small pool of blood began forming beside my bare foot. As I wondered how a book could do that much damage, the hooded figure stepped forward with it clasped in his hands. The book cover was dark and wilted, just like the on
e I had seen in Miles’ room the night of Laura’s murder, but this book was much, much larger. Metal spikes decorated the cover. Some glinted in the moonlight, but others dripped blood. Fresh blood, belonging to Frances, painted the left side of the book, but there was more blood on the other side that had already dried. Clearly it did not belong to Frances.
The book doubled as a weapon and suddenly the liquid dripping in my eye made sense. We had all been knocked out by this book. By Professor Howard. A panic like I never knew was possible rose in my chest as he walked towards me. He shook the hood off of his head and scooped up Frances. I had no chance of escaping now. Frances had been scared. Weak. Unsure. Guilt-ridden. She didn’t want to go through with this. She was under the control of Professor Howard. But I knew he would never be swayed. My imminent death became apparent, and I lost all control. I no longer cared if he saw my fear. My face could not hold stone. I couldn’t even keep my thoughts straight.
He tied Frances to another chair in between me and Headmistress Craw and I started wailing. “Help! Someone please help us! Help!” Professor Howard said nothing. He didn’t even look up from the knots he was tying into the rope wrapped around Frances. “He’s going to kill us! Professor Howard is going to kill us!”
“Oh, shut up, Ms. Parker. No one can hear you.” Frances was secured to the chair, so Professor Howard turned to face me. His voice was calm. “We are deep in the Black Forest, and even if we weren’t, I’m not half-witted. I placed a silencer spell around us. We could be five feet from the castle, and no one would hear you.” He chuckled although he seemed unamused.
“Lillian knows it’s you. She knows what you’re doing and she’s alive. You won’t be able to get away with it!” I yelled fervently. He laughed like he was very amused this time.
North End: The Black Forest Page 16