by Polen, Teri
“Sarah, stop!” I called, pulling myself to a standing position. “Leave Finn alone, it’s me you want to hurt.”
“How is she doing this?” Finn asked, one side of his face already discolored from where he’d hit the boxes or fallen to the floor.
Sarah materialized between us, the iron poker still protruding from her chest. Prying it from herself, she pulled her arm back and launched the poker like a spear at Finn, but he rolled to the side as it narrowly missed him. Guess the effect it had on Sarah had worn off. “Surprised? So am I, but I imagine it’s a more pleasant surprise for me than it is for you. I may not be able to touch you, but Jacob’s death must have given me that boost I needed to at least push you around a little.”
“Cain, she can’t stop both of us. You’re closest to the door, so get Mona for help.” I’d thought about calling to her, but she’d gone to the other side of the house to hang amulets and draw sigils. I doubted she’d even hear me. Sarah would probably knock me unconscious with something if I even tried.
“Yes, Cain, go get Mona. And maybe you’ll be pushed down those stairs. I hear it’s quite an experience. Try it and I guarantee Finn will be thrown out the window and hit the ground before you reach the bottom of the stairs,” Sarah threatened. “I dare you.”
I’d never wanted to hurt someone more in my life. If it was remotely possible, I would have killed Sarah again with my bare hands and suffered no regret. We were trapped - our only choices being a gamble that Sarah couldn’t kill both of us if I tried to get Mona, or die from being beaten to death, tossed out a window, or suffering a broken neck from falling down the stairs.
But there really wasn’t a choice. I wouldn’t take chances with Finn’s life.
“Well, boys, what should we do first?” While Sarah was busy listing all the ways she’d like to torture us, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mona reach the top of the stairs, a lit white candle in her hand. Sarah had been too distracted to notice.
Mona began chanting something, drawing closer to Sarah. Sarah stiffened, then swung around to face her. I noticed the pillar candle was engraved with the same sigils Finn had been drawing on the windows.
“Leave this house, spirit. You’re not welcome. Depart this realm and cross over to your soul’s final destination.”
Sarah eyes blazed with a hatred so vast, I sensed it move through the room and wrap around us like a shroud. “You think because you light a candle, wave it in my face, and command me to leave, you can exorcise me? Do you honestly believe it’s that easy? Killing another person is nothing to me, you red-headed witch!”
But as Mona continued her chanting, Sarah began to rise and from the look on her face, it wasn’t from her own efforts, and there was a flash of uncertainty in her eyes. “What’s happening? What have….”
Sarah’s mouth continued to open and close, but there was no sound, and although she struggled, she seemed unable to move. Whatever Mona was doing was working.
“I heard the crashes from downstairs and figured she’d shown up again in the attic. Are you guys alright? Are you hurt?”
“Not as much as we would have been if you hadn’t gotten here,” I said.
“I should have come up here myself. Once I understood how powerful Sarah was, I discussed her with a Wiccan friend, who suggested the sigils in case they were needed. If this works, we won’t have to burn the house.”
Not burn our home? With the mounting list of things I already had to explain to Mom, not having to rationalize burning down our house lifted a huge burden from my conscience.
“Cain! Cain, are you upstairs?”
No. It couldn’t be her. I’d asked her to stay away to keep her safe. Surely she’d listened. “Cain?”
Lindsey was here.
Hearing her niece’s voice broke Mona’s concentration. That brief lapse was all Sarah needed to free herself from the power that held her.
In that moment, time stood still for me. I saw the sheer joy that broke over Sarah’s decomposing face, while Mona’s eyes widened in shock, and Finn’s features twisted in determination as he shuffled his bruised body in my direction.
I needed to get to Lindsey before Sarah.
“Lindsey, stay where you are! Don’t come up here!” Even as the words left my lips, I catapulted myself toward the stairs, taking them three at a time, Finn on my heels. Mona followed us as well, but couldn’t keep up.
We sprinted across my room, through the door, and down the hallway toward the stairs, my mind focused only on reaching Lindsey in time, the thought of what Sarah could do to her nearly crippling in intensity.
When Lindsey screamed, it felt like the iron poker had been plunged through my chest instead of Sarah’s. “Don’t touch her!” I roared.
Finn and I reached the bottom of the stairs to find Sarah on the other side of the family room from Lindsey, but readying herself to attack.
And Lindsey wasn’t wearing an amulet.
“Cover her!” I yelled to Finn. He leaped over the back of the couch and threw Lindsey to the floor, shielding her body from Sarah with his own. I charged at Sarah, knowing I couldn’t do anything to hurt her, but only hoping for a distraction.
The floor began to rumble and the windows vibrated in their frames, while a gust of wind whipped around us, almost painful in its intensity. With a thundering roar, Sarah shot toward me, passing through my body in an attempt to reach Finn and Lindsey, knowing hurting either of them would be more agonizing to me than any physical torture she exerted.
And then something happened.
Mona reached the living room and held the candle over her head, fixated on Sarah, muttering something I couldn’t make out, and moved the candle in a pattern that matched the sigils. Sarah came to a sudden halt only a few feet from Finn and Lindsey, then rose several feet above us.
Her body jerked violently in several directions at once.
“What’s happening to me?” Sarah shrieked, as her head snapped back. “It hurts! No! No!” The front door burst inward, slamming against the wall behind it to reveal a dusky, ominous cloud unfurling, winding its way through the room. It snaked around the furniture and rolled between Finn, Lindsey, and me before stopping beside Mona and hovering, as if awaiting her instruction. She raised the candle high and ceased her murmuring. “Remove this spirit from this home, it is unwelcome!”
The cloud collapsed in on itself, building its energy, then erupted toward Sarah and curled around her, pinning her limbs like the blanket she’d been buried with, but was unable to muffle her unearthly wails. In mid scream, Sarah was savagely forced from the house by the hazy mist, her ear-splitting howls echoing in the distance.
And then there was silence.
Chapter 36
Finn and I explained everything to Mom as best we could and, although skeptical, she’d seen Sarah with her own eyes, and Mona corroborated our story. Of course, she blamed herself and said it was all her fault for buying this house and not listening to me that morning in the kitchen when I questioned her about Sarah. After a few weeks, she was still apologizing every day, even with all my reassurances.
It was difficult to explain how I felt, knowing Sarah was finally gone. I was alive, my family was safe, and there was a profound sense of relief. I was indebted to Mona for everything she’d done.
But I still didn’t quite feel like myself, or didn’t remember what I’d been like before Sarah had disrupted our lives. I had nightmares in which Sarah would reach deep into my chest and clutch my heart, threatening to rip it from my chest. Sudden loud noises instantly launched me on the defensive, certain someone or something was ready to attack.
Finn diagnosed me as having posttraumatic stress disorder, an
d maybe it was. Maybe all I needed was time to get over Sarah, live the normal life of a teenager, hang out with friends, and go on dates with Lindsey.
One thing I did know – I had no desire to ever see another horror movie. I’d been the guy who checked out the weird goings on in the attic, and as a result starred in and barely survived my own personal horror flick. It was enough to satisfy my curiosity over several lifetimes and I never wanted to experience it again, on the screen or in real life. There was something to be said for snuggling up on the couch with Lindsey and watching some cheesy rom-coms.
I’d also taken my mattress off the bed frame and put it directly on the floor and started sleeping with a light on. Whatever gets you through the night, right?
Epilogue
Sarah had been sure her time in this world was finally over, that she’d been headed straight to an eternity in the underworld. But then she’d caught a glimpse of something others had missed - an important something that would enable her to remain in this house, close to Cain and Finn, biding her time until she could strike. A little girl who was terrified for her brother, someone she loved with all her heart, had ventured away from a worried mother whose attention was diverted by fear for her son’s life.
The child had crawled between some bushes under the window by the front door and peeked through the glass. She’d seen horrible, unspeakable things that she hadn’t understood, but could never mention to her brother or mother, because she’d disobeyed and broken a promise about staying in the car where she’d be safe.
The little girl had felt nothing when Sarah seized the opportunity before her, but every now and then, the child missed chunks of time and wondered how she’d gotten from one room to another or wound up outside. It was especially scary when she began sleepwalking, always waking at her brother’s bedside, gazing down at him while he slept peacefully.
Acknowledgements
The idea for this story was sparked by my cat and loyal furry friend, Shadow. He’s crossed the Rainbow Bridge now, but he was a lot like Eby. I’ve read that black cats are the last to be adopted at animal shelters, but they’ve been the most loving and personality-oozing pets I’ve ever had the pleasure of owning. Consider giving them a forever home - you won’t regret it.
Thanks to my family – Reese for all your input, suggestions, and encouragement (even though you expect a cut of the profits – and you’re assuming there will be any), Tanner for his soccer knowledge, and Mike for pretending to listen (as your eyes glazed over) when I rambled on about this book so many times, but most of all for giving me time to make this dream a reality.
To my parents for being my biggest fans.
From the Writer’s Sanctuary – Thanks to Shantele Summa Martin for brainstorming, Rachel Garza for your help and reassurance during a moment of crisis, and C.J. Redwine for your freaking awesome writer’s retreats and making me believe this was possible.
Donna Driver, whose input helped smooth out many rough edges.
Stephanie Stamm, the first reader of an earlier incarnation of this book.
All my blogging friends for their words of encouragement.
Kudos to Glenda Burris and her mad photography skills - how you managed to get a usable shot of such an unphotogenic subject remains a mystery.
Thank you for choosing to read my work, and I hope you enjoyed Sarah. I’d be grateful if you could take a few minutes to leave a review at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or Goodreads.
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