by Saul, Jonas
“You mean you play cards by yourself?”
The old woman drew closer and leaned over the wooden railing to look at Vanessa. “You can talk jokes and play your tricks, but I’ve got a trick or two of my own. For over two hundred and fifty years my kind has reigned, and it is because of people like you that you must perish as my sacrifice to the four natural elements of the universe.”
Vanessa suddenly remembered the woman saying something about her mother. This wasn’t a joke. This was real.
She’s fucking nuts.
The straps were too tight to entertain thoughts of escape.
“Back in the alley, what did you say about my mother?”
The old woman moved away. Vanessa heard something clang like metal against metal.
“Your mother was my water and you will be my earth. Each year I need four. The other two, fire and air have already been extinguished. This is how I stay young. I harness my powers from the four elements.”
Vanessa had to pee. She clenched and held it back. She shook all over and her skin was clammy.
“Is that what you meant by the left road and the right road stuff?”
“The right hand path of light is white magic and the left hand path, black magic. If you had heeded my warning and not taken the left hand path, I might’ve spared you again.”
“Again?”
“Your mother took your place two years ago. Now, as my earth sacrifice, at midnight, by the light of the full moon, I will bury you alive in the coffin you lie in presently. My good friend and assistant, Sheriff James Redfield, is outside right now, digging a hole for you, one hundred yards from here.”
Fear turned to rage as Vanessa thought of her mother. She had not killed herself as reported by the sheriff because the sheriff was in on it.
Her mother had been murdered.
Vanessa struggled as hard as she could despite knowing it was useless. The straps only dug deeper and cut off her circulation.
“An estimated 200,000 of my kind,” the witch continued speaking from somewhere out of sight, “a few who were decent housewives, were executed in the most brutal manner in the past. You’ve no doubt heard of the more famous event, the Salem Witch Trials? Well, we’ve been accused of sorcery, devil worship, and even baby-eating. None of that crazy stuff is what we do and yet for years we were killed. Now it is my turn. One by one, I take the souls of your kind to pay for what your ancestors did to my kind. In thirty minutes, it will be midnight, and it’s a full moon. That’s the witching hour.”
Vanessa listened while locked in her coffin, immobile. The anger fled and all that remained was a fear so intense she had difficulty breathing.
“I heard my father earlier,” she said, her throat raw.
“He’s here. He was brought in when I wanted your mother. She’d asked questions, too. I had him row the boat out and throw your mother into the water while I stood on the shore invoking the spirits. If I’d spared you back then, that was the deal. Your father had to do it.” The witch’s face appeared over the edge of the wooden box. “I wanted you for the water sacrifice that year, but your father proved to be a problem. He offered your mother instead. I took her. Now, to keep him in line, I’m taking you.”
The old woman jerked her head back and laughed, eerie and guttural. It raised goosebumps on Vanessa’s arms.
With the knowledge that her father not only helped kill her mother, but was the one who threw her into the water, Vanessa really had nothing to live for anymore. These people had chosen for her.
A door banged open somewhere.
“James just received a call,” her father shouted. “We have a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” the witch asked.
“The State Police are on their way. They will be here within five minutes. I just talked to him. He said they’re coming with the FBI, too. Over forty cruisers are arriving in minutes. We can’t do this now. We have to—”
“Slow down!” the witch screeched. “Who called the State Police? How would they know where we are?”
“I have no idea. The State Trooper called James. He said he was coming to the lighthouse before midnight. They said they’d be here in five minutes. We have to move now.”
Someone else’s feet pounded into the lighthouse.
“It’s true.” The sheriff’s voice. “They received a complaint from a female. Apparently this woman knew a lot about us. They’re coming fast. We have to move now. There’s no choice.”
“A female?” the witch asked. “I need to know who this woman is. Redfield, find out. It wasn’t Vanessa here. I followed her from school and stayed with her until now.”
Vanessa could see the edge of the witch’s head.
“You have won a reprieve for a second time,” the witch said. “When this is over, I will hunt you down. I curse you to eternally look over your shoulder. From here on, you only exist to be my sacrifice.” Her eyes were half closed, her face contorted and twisted as if she was experiencing a seizure.
After a moment she looked away and addressed the men, who were out of Vanessa’s view.
“You, take Vanessa to your car. You were out for an evening drive by the lighthouse. Redfield, get cleaned up and meet these officers. Talk to them and then get them out of our town. I will head down to the beach and walk home. Go!”
Hands reached in and started to undo Vanessa’s straps. As soon as her arms were free she punched and smacked her father, screaming at him.
“How could you do this?” she cried. “How could you hurt my mom?”
Her father’s powerful hands gripped her wrists and subdued her.
He gritted his teeth and said, “Don’t fight this or you will die. Obey me and you may live a little longer. Are you listening?”
Her wrists ached in his grasp like they were broken. A moment later he released her and the sharp pain ebbed to a subtle throb.
He finished undoing her straps and lifted her from the coffin. Fireman style, he threw her over his shoulder and carried her to the car.
Everything she ever thought she knew was a lie. Her father was no longer her father. He was a monster.
He sat her down by the car, opened the back door and eased her in. She contemplated running, but how far could she get? She no longer had the money her mother had left for her and she was still groggy from the witch’s powder.
Headlights shone through the window behind them, a long line of vehicles with red lights flashing. Her father stood outside, waving at the approaching vehicles.
What’s he doing? How does he know that I won’t tell the police what happened here?
“You can get out now, Vanessa. It’s over. We’re safe.”
Vanessa stared through the windshield, not willing to do anything he asked.
“Come on. The police are here. Come on out.”
“Never. When they come and ask me what happened, I’ll tell them everything.”
“I hope you do, Sweetheart, I hope you do. I’m sorry it had to be like this. There was no other way. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Sweetheart? Forgive me?
Vehicles stopped all around them. Car doors opened and closed. Men shouted orders.
A man in uniform, his hair in a military buzz cut, poked his head through the back door.
“Are you all right, Ma’am?”
Vanessa nodded. She wiped her cheeks. Help had arrived. It was over.
“I’ve got someone here to see you,” the man said. “Prepare yourself. This may come as a shock.”
Vanessa nodded.
Her mother stepped into view and eased into the backseat to sit beside her.
A lightheadedness enveloped Vanessa and for a brief moment her vision wavered.
“Is it … really you?” she asked, shock settling over her nervous system.
“Yes, baby. Your mommy has come home. And we have your father to thank for saving both our lives.”
Vanessa and her parents left Hover’s Grove and flew to Europe, meandered thr
ough Italy, Greece, and Hungary, before getting on another plane and flying to Australia.
During that year of travel, Vanessa learned the truth. Her father had heard about the mysterious disappearances around Hover’s Grove when they first moved there. Then a family friend disappeared.
Vanessa’s mother asked the sheriff too many questions. The witch warned her, saying her daughter would have an accident if she didn’t stop asking questions.
When approached with the notion that Vanessa would be used in a sacrificial ceremony and given no other option, they hatched a plan. Her mother offered to take Vanessa’s place and her father would help kill her himself to show his allegiance to the witch and her cause. When he rowed out on the water that fateful night, he had given her mother a sealed package of money and a long straw to breathe through. Then she went into hiding.
Vanessa lie on the couch in their new home and asked why they didn’t call the police then.
“Because the sheriff had videotaped your father throwing me into the water,” her mother said. “With the report of death by suicide, the case was closed. If anything were to happen, the case would reopen and the anonymous video recording would show up, blaming your father for my death.”
“Why wait two years to deal with this? That was the worst two years of my life. The whole time I thought you had killed yourself. There had to be a way to involve the police sooner.”
“The witch kept your father at a distance. He needed to be involved for the police to act. People still disappeared around town, but your father wasn’t included in the planning. Not until they wanted you again. He had me write that note, hoping you would run from him, take the money and quietly leave town. But you did the worst thing you could do, just like I did. You went to Sheriff Redfield and asked questions. Your dad told me to call the State Police and bring them in just before midnight. And you know the rest.”
“Twenty-eight killings and disappearances were attributed to that witch,” Vanessa said, shaking her head and looking down at her hands. “After the sheriff’s confession, there’s only one thing left unsolved. Where did the witch go?”
“I don’t know. They’re still looking for her. She apparently walked down to the beach that night and disappeared. No one has seen her since.”
Vanessa felt a chill. She rubbed her arms and looked around the room. “Did you open one of the windows, Mom?”
“No, it must’ve been your dad. I’ll go check on dinner. It’s getting late.”
She left Vanessa alone on the couch in their remote shack in the suburbs of Port Denison, Western Australia.
Vanessa picked up a magazine from the coffee table and leafed through it while she waited for her mother to return.
Something banged the wall on the side of the house. Vanessa looked up in time to see a face move away from the window.
“Mom! Dad!”
She tossed the magazine aside and ran for the kitchen.
“Everything all right?” her mother asked. “You look startled.”
“She’s here. The witch is outside. I just saw her.” She looked at the clock. “It’s a full moon and it’ll be midnight in two hours. What’re we going to do?”
“Now, Vanessa, you know she can’t find us all the way across the world. Everything will be fine.”
“To make you feel better,” her father lifted a large butcher knife in the air, “I’ll go outside and do a walk around the house.”
He stepped outside the kitchen door. Minutes later, he came in through the front door.
“No one’s out there,” he said. “Nothing to be worried about. Everything’s fine.”
Vanessa looked out the window where she’d seen the face. “It was this window. I heard a bang and looked up. The witch was watching me through it. I’m scared, Mom.”
Vanessa leaned closer and stared out into the night. Something small and white waddled closer. It came into view, illuminated by the light from inside the house.
A seagull. It had a broken leg. It flapped its wings and then tucked them back in just before it fell over and died.
“Mom. Come and look at this. It’s happening again.” She pointed out the window. “There’s a dead seagull outside our window just like in front of the sheriff’s office.”
Her parents looked out the window.
The bird was gone.
Someone laughed outside.
It came across the wind, floated to them through the darkness.
Vanessa screamed as the front door burst open.
The witching hour had come again.
There would be no escape this time.
It’s just the way things are …
Bound
Kramer Kay stood among shelves of glass figurines. Someone was dead. She could feel it, but she couldn’t see them yet. As she walked around the display cases that held a variety of glass statues, the store clerk approached and asked if she needed any help. The store’s lights were bright, the air stale and dry. She turned, moistened her lips, and judged the woman to be at least sixty years of age. Her name tag read, “Beatrice.”
“I’m just looking,” Kramer responded. Beatrice probably heard that all day.
“Just holler if you need anything.”
Kramer politely nodded and turned away.
Every sort of figure was done up in glass in front of her. Dolphins, wolves, deer, even elephants. She reached out to pick up a glass rabbit and felt someone standing beside her.
A teenage girl held a glass figure of a deer with its head down in the grazing position. It appeared to Kramer that the girl, roughly eighteen years of age, worked here. Her name tag read, “Kelly.”
“I’ve always liked this one,” Kelly said. “It was my favorite.”
Kramer caught the use of past tense. Was my favorite.
“Which one is your favorite now?” Kramer asked.
“It’s still this one.”
Odd.
“But I thought you said it was your favorite?”
“I did.”
The girl placed the deer in Kramer’s palm. Their eyes locked as the young girl spoke again.
“Help me. I lay where the deer play.”
Her voice sent a shiver through Kramer’s shoulders.
“What did you say?”
“I lay where the deer play. Help me, find me. Let me find peace.”
Kramer blinked and then she was standing alone. Kelly had been there one moment, gone the next.
Kramer turned and looked toward the counter.
“Are you all right Ma’am?” Beatrice asked.
“Yes, yes of course.” Kramer approached the counter, the figure of the deer still clutched in her palm. “I’ll take this one,” she said, and handed the figurine to Beatrice.
“Oh my, nice choice. My former clerk, Kelly, just adored this one.”
Kramer’s head shot up at the mention of the girl she was just talking to. “Former clerk? What happened to her?”
“No one knows. She disappeared about a year ago. Not a word since. You must have heard about it. It was all over the news.”
Kramer avoided the news for this particular reason. Too many people screamed for help once she knew about them. She reached in her purse, yanked out a twenty and dropped it on the counter.
“Do you mean that eighteen-year-old girl with long blond hair?” she asked, now armed with what Kelly looked like.
“Yes. So you did hear about it. Tragic for the parents,” Beatrice said as she handed back Kramer’s change.
“I could only imagine. A tragedy.”
Kramer gathered her things up and left in a hurry without saying another word.
I lay where the deer play.
What did that mean?
That’s the main problem with earth-bound entities who are stuck. They have access to vast amounts of information, but they forget I don’t.
She exited the mall and headed for her car, knowing she’d have to contact the investigating officer to see what she could find
out about Kelly. Her contacts at the police department were pretty good, given that she’d helped them many times in the past on missing persons cases.
Bruce Wellington would help. Mostly because he kept asking her to dinner, but Kramer didn’t date cops. She couldn’t romance the very people she worked with.