Destiny's Gate

by Lee Bice-Matheson

  “Paige is the chosen one, here tonight, to battle the evil haunting her family and this estate. All Hallows’ Eve is where the veil thins between the two worlds. We must all be on guard and protect her, and her family, as you’ve been entrusted to protect me. I command you to do so.”

  There were rebels amongst the wolves that did not want to listen to Blue-Eyes’ orders. Thankfully, loyal followers nipped at them as he spoke.

  “I’ve finally found Paige. We are destined to be together. It is part of the prophecy. We will be together, forever.” Blue-Eyes nudged me on my side and then continued, “The O’Brien family must be protected at all costs, even if it means sacrificing your own lives.”

  Blue-Eyes held the attention and command of the wolf packs. The wolves signalled one another, and one by one, began to howl until they all howled in unison. Allan was thrilled and nudged me, as a master does its recruit. I nudged him back.

  I woke up in my human body, with Allan kneeling beside me, his hand on my cheek. “C’mon, sleepy head, we have a battle to prepare for.”

  As Allan helped me up, Dexter appeared out of nowhere, and knocked Allan out cold; his head striking a fallen tree. Dexter grabbed my hand then dragged me by my hair part way along a path to the guest house. Involuntary tears filled my eyes; the pain was excruciating. I struggled to break free using my legs as he continued to drag me behind him. Dexter then forced me up onto my feet and shoved me until we passed through the threshold of the guest house, locking the door behind him. He jammed a dining room chair up against the antique bronze doorknob and whirled around to face me. Dexter’s eyes were lit up as if on fire; his face distorted. I reached into the right hand pocket of my jeans to retrieve the angel charm he had given to me for protection. I surmised in that second, the angel was for protection from him. Fumbling for the charm, I backed down the hallway while Dexter cocked his head to one side. My eyes widened as I saw Blue-Eyes jump through the bay window in the living room, and engaged Dexter in a brutal fight. My heart skipped a beat, as Dexter shapeshifted into the black wolf who had attacked me several times! I glanced up at the flying angels on the ceiling and hoped for their help, then fled out the back door. The only safe place to hide, I could think of, was by the brook. Perhaps Grey Owl would appear and offer some help.

  Nearing the babbling brook, I overheard whispers. My instincts guided me to hide in the bushes. I cautiously parted the branches and there stood Grey Owl speaking to Carole. I wondered what they were discussing until I heard Carole say, “Are you sure she’s ready? It’s a lot for someone to handle who has basically just discovered she’s gifted. I don’t want to be the one responsible for pushing her over the edge.”

  Grey Owl challenged, “Push her over the edge? From what, insanity? She already thinks she’s insane.”

  And before I could eavesdrop any further, hot, foul-smelling breath poured over the back of my head. I spun around and found myself staring into Dexter...the black wolf’s face: his jagged incisors exposed, as he licked blood off his fur. He gave me a perverse smile just before he leapt at me. Out of nowhere, a smaller, tri-coloured tan, black and white wolf clashed with him in mid-air and bit him in the neck. Dexter crashed to the ground and dragged himself off into the bushes.

  I could not believe my eyes, once again, as I spied who the other wolf was, my defender; Carole was sprawled on the ground in her human form. She had a gash across her shoulder that reminded me of a sharp knife wound. I ran over to her, while tearing off a piece of my t-shirt to control the bleeding.

  While Carole writhed in pain, I heard a threatening, guttural growl. As I turned around, several yards back was the malicious, black wolf with his massive paws, teeth bared, and head lowered readying for battle. I hoped Dexter’s wounds would slow him down.

  Carole gasped and telepathically said, run. I refused to leave without her and helped her to her feet. It was difficult supporting Carole and navigating our way in the dark. I was grateful for the help of the moon’s rays. I pushed Carole up the treacherous climb, as tree branches slapped across my face leaving painful, little cuts.

  At the top of the ridge, the full moon provided an illuminated view across the valley. When my gaze landed on the cottage perimeter, I wanted to crawl into a shell; it was surrounded by hundreds of wolves. I felt an ache in the pit of my gut and wondered, are we going to die tonight? Carole and I exchanged glances hoping for each other’s survival; words need not be spoken. And in the midst of the chaos, I heard Peggy’s voice command, go to the cottage, Paige, with Carole. Do not fear! They are your friends and ancestors. They will guard you overnight. Go now!

  I grabbed Carole’s hand and together, we scrambled down the ridge, gripping each rock as vigilantly as we could. I did not want to end up like Conall and Mackenzie had so many years ago. I had a flashback of my first image of Conall, lying still as a corpse, with hands folded upon his chest; I shivered.

  When we reached the bottom of the ridge, there stood Blue-Eyes. I was shocked to see him, thinking he was dead after I saw Dexter by the brook licking the blood from his lips. Blue-Eyes led the way to the cottage. The wolves parted and let us pass, and then closed the circle behind us. It was eerie, for sure, but I had to trust in someone and so far, Blue-Eyes had saved me on many occasions. Carole looked pale and shaky. I assured her everything was going to be all right.

  Blue-Eyes transformed into Allan Brewer. I was elated; for whatever reason, he was my guardian angel on All Hallows’ Eve. I could not wait for the evening to end.

  Allan led us inside the cottage and asked us to sit on the antique dining room chairs. He spoke slowly, yet forcefully, “Okay, Paige and Carole, you will be safe here for awhile. I will go back and deal with Dexter.”

  “I thought Dexter was the protector of my family? I don’t understand,” I responded.

  “Perhaps at one time...he was the guardian of O’Brien Manor. For centuries, he’s lived on or near the estate to protect your ancestors, now something sinister is influencing Dexter. Maybe he has a bit of the dark side himself, eh? Don’t we all?” Allan laughed nervously. And that made me nervous. So far, Allan hadn’t shown any signs of fear. The for centuries part echoed ominously in my mind.

  “Just stay here. My friends will protect you, I promise, Paige. I’ll be back as soon as I can — before...”

  “Before what?”

  My question landed in thin air. Allan was gone in a flash. Carole sobbed quietly as I tried to console her. Everything seemed so calm only an hour earlier. What else could possibly happen on this bewitching night?

  Carole and I persevered in the dingy cottage, huddled together. The outcries from the wolf packs added to my agitation. The wolves would howl in unison, sending chills down my spine and then, a muffled whimper or growl followed. Carole and I tried not to focus on the communications of our trusty sentinels, but rather the safety we were afforded by these creatures.

  I began to shiver from the chill in the air and realized it was growing late. Outside our temporary refuge, the wind had picked up; it whistled through the trees afar in the forest. The cottage was dark and damp. I began to appreciate that we could not stay here all night. I tapped on Carole’s leg and motioned for her to follow me. We navigated our way over rotting chairs and past broken down kitchen cupboards to the tired back door. We had to rely on our senses as the full moon could not penetrate the roof on this side of the cottage. Against my better judgement, I unlatched the kitchen door and gasped as I spied Dexter approaching. He walked like a zombie, searching for food. Slamming the door shut, I pushed Carole back towards the dining room, scraping my knee on a broken chair leg, as we scrambled in the opposite direction. Blood seeped from the wound and my first response was to give up from the pain and exhaustion. I managed to overcome it, however, and pushed on. Mind over matter, my dad would say.

  Carole and I burst through the front door and stared at the wolves, as they closed in on us. Sen
sing Conall and Mackenzie nearby, I prayed they would intervene on our behalf, wondering what they could do to help.

  A shirtless man, with ripped pants, arose amongst the wolves and motioned us to follow him. The wolves parted and we stealthily followed the man, not wanting to provoke any member of the packs. Each wolf’s behaviour varied: some were indifferent to us, others sniffed at us, and one even nudged me from behind in an aggressive manner. My skin crawled as we plodded our way along. I ignored the feeling and the wolves. Carole and I had no choice. We had to trust this stranger with our lives.

  He led us to a clearing and said, “The wolves will throw your scent off. Dexter is close. Continue towards the old cemetery...in the direction of the moonlight. You must hurry.”

  I nodded and squeezed his hand as a sign of thanks. He winked, shifted into his spirit wolf and galloped back to his comrades.

  I was well-acquainted with the only cemetery on the grounds — the one Brad and I were so obsessed with in the summer. Agitated, I grabbed Carole’s arm and we charged ahead busting through the overgrown brush as we went.

  Carole appeared nervous as she rambled on about her childhood with her parents. Then she began to talk about her mom who died only a year earlier; she missed her so. It was a great coping mechanism to stop us from fretting over our mortality. It was obvious to both of us Dexter was out to kill us, though we had no idea why.

  The conversation only reminded me of my own mother and just how much I wished she was here. I snapped out of it recognizing now was not the time to get sentimental. I suggested we sing a song to lighten our spirits. Carole began to sing Uprising by Muse, softly at first, then louder. Joining in, I identified with the song. It was a perfect reflection of what we were going through, and the ending of the song reverberated through-out my entire body as I sang the words: We will be victorious! It was all up to Carole and to me to find a resolution to this revolution on this spooky All Hallows’ Eve.

  I spied the neglected fence surrounding parts of the cemetery. “This way,” I instructed Carole. “I remember the cemetery quite well, and if we enter through the back way, we can cut across the middle and down the pathway towards the guest house!” I pushed Carole along as we ran.

  Dashing past Conall’s mother’s grave, with the angel statue intact, I wished for her strength to help us tonight. When we neared the path, it was devastatingly dark; the full moon could not pierce the dense foliage overhead. I had to rely on my memory and a little help from Conall, to help us make our escape. He whispered, this way, Paige. I followed his voice until we hit the big open path to the stone bridge leading back to the manor. I heard footsteps ahead and came to a complete halt, causing Carole to ram into me from behind. She screamed. I whipped around and put my hand on her mouth, pushing her into the bushes.

  There, before me in the path, stood the tortured boy from the ice vault, the one from my visions. Mist surrounded him and he was earnestly trying to speak to me. Like turning a dial to tune in a station on an old battery-operated radio, a word could be clearly heard before cutting out. I heard, Brad, as a whisper, and then watched him mouth a few more words, as if he was shouting: I heard, careful...he...coming. The boy’s voice cut out again. His eyes widened and in one blast I heard, beware of Bradford. He is coming for you. The vision stopped abruptly, revealing a large shadow in the path before me. Rubbing my eyes and trying to adjust them to the low lighting, I saw a tall man, well over six feet, with black hair, full beard and the largest palms. He raised his right hand and in a booming voice, proclaimed, “You will die before midnight chimes.” I watched as he faded away and then blacked out.

  Reviving to a horrid stench, I was terrified to see the black wolf had found me again. Third time’s the charm. I was running out of energy to continue this fight. He had me pinned to the ground with his monstrous right paw hammered into my chest, and his raw, foul-smelling breath in my face; I could not move. As much as I struggled, I could not break away from its hold on me. I lay still with no control over my future. It was a horrifying situation to be at the mercy of such a beast. And to remember it was Dexter, it was staggering. Again, I struggled to free myself. Suddenly, he withdrew his paw and backed off as if startled by something behind me. I could not see what it was. The black wolf darted away, scared beyond belief. I wondered, if something scared him that badly, what would it do to me? Deliberately rising and brushing off the remnants of dirt and stench from my enemy, I turned around to face my fears and saw Allan standing there smiling at me; behind him, stood an army of wolves ready for battle. Saved once again by my dear friend, Allan, and as grateful as I was, I knew in my heart, someday he might not be available.

  “Oh, Allan. Thank God you’re here.” My eyes filled with tears as I had never been a believer before today. “I saw Bradford...the man haunting the estate and my family.” I fell into Allan’s outstretched arms.

  “Yes, I caught sight of him earlier this evening. Not a friendly fellow. I’m so glad you survived the night. I am grateful you and Carole had each other. And our friends, the wolf packs, looked out for you, both.” He smiled in Carole’s direction and hugged me tightly.

  “Dexter...what are we going to do about him? What’s happened?” I whispered into his right ear.

  Allan hesitated, walked back to the path and pulled Carole out of the bushes. She brushed herself off, sprinted to me, and clutched my arm.

  “Sometimes evil takes hold of the best of us, Paige,” said Allan. “That’s why it’s so important to say your prayers and remain positive...and physically strong.”

  “What a night,” Carole interjected. “Is this what it’s like to be your friend on Halloween?” she teased. “I’ll be preparing for next year by working out physically and mentally.” Carole smiled weakly.

  “I still don’t understand about the young boy who was beaten. Who he is? What does he want?” I looked down at the ground trying to figure it all out.

  “Paige, sometimes ghosts remember things in a mixed up manner. We may never discover the truth to all of this. But we will remember how we triumphed over evil. That’s what is important.” Allan’s smile widened and his eyes sparkled. “Let’s have a group hug shall we?”

  The three of us squeezed as hard as we could. I stepped back and said, “What’s this spirit wolf thing going on?” The conversation ended right there. Carole and Allan exchanged glances with one another before looking away.

  “I thought Grey Owl explained it to you, Paige,” Carole responded. It was evident neither friend wanted to discuss the subject any further.

  “Okay, I will ask him again the next time I see him. I’m starving. Aren’t you guys? Let’s go to the manor for some of grandpa’s birthday cake.”

  “After what we’ve been through tonight, I’m not sure I can eat cake, Paige.” Carole rubbed her stomach.

  “C’mon, Carole, it will take our minds off the haunting on Halloween,” Allan prodded as he winked at her.

  We marched towards the kitchen door, arm in arm, sweeping our legs to the left then the right, as seen in the TV movie, The Wizard of Oz, after Dorothy met the Tin Man and the Lion. Allan had positioned himself in the middle. I was overjoyed until Bradford appeared before us by the bonfire. He waved his hands about and threatened, you will pay for what your ancestor did to my nephew. Allan ran towards him; Bradford vanished — he was a mere vision appearing to the three of us. Allan laughed it off, but I was disturbed by the experience. After the long night we’d endured, it was hard to feel secure with these pop-out ghosts. However, as edgy as I felt, I was also immensely happy to know I had great supporters.

  The wolves howled as if in celebration of the enemy’s defeat. The battle against evil had been won for this All Hallows’ Eve. I considered it a bit premature to feel we had triumphed as Dexter was still out there to be dealt with, that is, as the black wolf, and he had until midnight to harm me. I glanced at my watch as it digitally displayed 12
:00, midnight. Dexter had failed. Bradford’s opportunity was also over for another year! At least, as Allan explained it, I had a year to prepare for them until the next Halloween. My thoughts trailed off to wondering if I would still be living on the estate. And then fell to Dexter, my enemy. I was saddened by his betrayal.

  I insisted we should indulge in a hearty piece of black forest cake and served it outside on the back patio. I ate the cherries off the top and studied the hunter’s moon. It had been our saving grace, as it lit our way home. I thought about Conall and how he helped us on this frightful night. Who would have thought Conall, my nemesis in the summer, would be one of my saviours this fall?

  Carole and Allan hastily departed when we finished our desserts. Probably from exhaustion, I gathered. As I entered the kitchen, I was surprised to find grandpa waiting up for me.

  “Oh, Paige, am I ever glad to see you! I was so worried about you tonight — you tricked me and ran off. Where did you go? What happened?” He beckoned me to come and sit beside him on the bench.

  I did not want to put grandpa through any more worries than he’d already had, so I made up a story that Carole and I went over to Peggy’s house to visit and lost track of time. He seemed to believe it, but I was not certain. Nonetheless, grandpa went off to bed and I to mine.

  Staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, my long, curly, auburn hair in disarray and brown eyes blazing, I could not help but marvel at how well I had taken the events of the past few months. Did I have a warrior deep inside me, the wolf, who protected me or was it all a dream? The line between reality and fantasy had blurred. As I undressed, I examined my right shoulder. The black marking had returned; it appeared larger and had seeped into my chest area and further down my right arm. When I looked back into the mirror, my pupils were dilated — it was a tattoo of a wolf, with the head above my right breast and the body down my arm. This cannot be happening! I screamed internally.