Hallowed Horror

by Mark Tufo

  “The word warlock,” Isabel said, “means oath breaker, for it was assumed that they parted from the faith. That clearly does not include you, though you may call yourself what you wish.”

  “Didn't part from anything, but warlock sounds a hell of a lot cooler.”

  “You watched too much Bewitched as a kid, Matt,” Emma said.

  “I admit it. Loved it.”

  Peter shook his head. “Sorry I feel there's some kind of urgency here, guys, but I'd like to hear Isabel's explanation.”

  Everyone nodded and Isabel continued: “I think I was explaining that many witches have the ability to travel outside their bodies, to have what some call out-of-body experiences. I might not use that term when it is intentionally performed, however, and not when it is done this way. Peter, I would venture to say that what you just did has likely never been done before.”

  “You mean traveling outside his body in the past?” Allyson asked.

  “Without requiring any contact with the physical portal to the past,” Isabel said.

  “It's called astral projection in the present,” Matt said. “Not sure what you call it when you apply it to the past.”

  Everyone stared at him.

  “Hey, I used to be fascinated with the idea. Read some books, even did some research of my own in my twenties.”

  “My point is that one of Peter's powers is probably this ability to leave his body. It may be his only power, perhaps not.”

  “How do we figure out what we can do?” Allyson asked.

  “Through your past experiences. You must go back and see what you were capable of, either unintentionally or otherwise,” said Isabel.

  “Then what I experienced with Ellen's father and the portrait of myself means that I can . . . what, read minds?”

  “Or See,” Isabel said.

  “See what?” Peter asked.

  “She may be able to see many things. The future, the past, into people's minds.”

  Peter put his head into his hands. “Oh, that can't be good.”

  Everyone laughed, and Emma said, “Don't worry, Web. You're an open book anyway.”

  “Do we necessarily have different powers? Or maybe a couple of us have the same ones?” Peter looked at Isabel.

  She shook her head. “Time will tell us, but all of you must be aware at all times, and glean all you can from the experiences. I’m a bit surprised you haven’t yet gotten the obituary information we talked about.”

  “We did find it,” said Peter.

  “And what did you find?” asked Isabel.

  Peter turned to Matt. “Matt, we didn’t want to say anything which is why we didn’t talk about what we found.”

  “What is it?” Matt asked, concern on his face. “I knew it. I didn’t see any older photos of Josh Mattingly.”

  “You were right,” said Emma. “Matt, don’t worry. It’s already said and done. Nothing can change what happened, but we know now that it’s too dangerous for you to go back into the photos without knowing exactly when the photo was taken. You wouldn’t look all that different than in the photos you’ve gone into already.”

  “When does he die?”

  Emma took her purse from the chair beside her and fished around until she withdrew a piece of paper. She unfolded it and ran down the list.

  “December 22nd, 1940.”

  “Jesus! That’s just the year after the picture I went into.”

  Peter and Emma nodded, but said nothing.

  “The Dark One may have discovered how you helped Chris and Ellen to be together at the church,” said Isabel. “I remember his death. Ellen and my mother were devastated.”

  “How did it happen?” Matt asked.

  “Fire. At the church. It started as a wildfire and high winds caused it to spread from the hills to the area where the church was located. Apparently Josh was trapped, and unable to escape.”

  “Just like he tried to kill Chris,” said Matt, solemnly. “With fire.”

  “No,” said Isabel. “He didn’t intend to kill Chris then. Just to frighten him.”

  Allyson sat beside Matt and took his hand. “I’m sorry, Matt, but you’re not Joshua. You’re here, and you’re okay.”

  Isabel was quiet for a long time, as the four witches stared at her. “I have a suggestion.”

  “What?” Emma asked.

  “I will give you a small bag containing some mushrooms. I want the four of you to go to a secluded place and learn your talents.”

  “What kind of mushrooms?” Allyson asked.

  “Psilocybin mushrooms, though they’re known as—”

  “Magic mushrooms,” finished Peter.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” Matt asked.

  “Because they will help you open your minds for the time it takes to learn your powers. You must be willing to reach inside yourselves and master the abilities you possess.”

  “So we’re not going to fry our brains, we’re just taking a little?”

  “C’mon, Web. It’s not like we haven’t done them before.”

  “It’s been years, Em. And I’m not comfortable doing that stuff anymore. I might flip out, and I’ve got too much to lose.” He looked at Allyson. She returned his gaze.

  “I will give you four caps, the top of the mushrooms. Small ones. I want you to go somewhere peaceful and open your minds, learn about yourselves. Practice your magic until you no longer feel the effects of the mushrooms, then keep practicing it afterward. You must use the powers until you’re in a normal state again or you will forget how.”

  “Use it or lose it,” Allyson said, smiling.

  “So when are we going to do this thing?” Matt asked.

  “No time like the present,” Peter said. “How about tomorrow evening at the beach across the street from my house. It’s still May, and no one’s there after 5:00 or so. Isabel, can you make it?”

  “I’d love to be there, but this is for you,” Isabel said. “Learn well and return with amazing stories—and powers.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  That evening Allyson picked up the phone and dialed. Peter had called and asked if she would like to have dinner at his apartment, but she declined, as much as she had wanted to. Something else was more important. She was frightened.

  “Hello?”

  “Isabel, it’s me.”

  “Allyson, dear? Are you okay?”

  Allyson’s tears came, and she tried to choke them back. She dropped into the chair beside her bed and sobbed, the phone still to her ear.

  “Take your time, dear,” Isabel said. “I’ll be here.”

  Allyson squeezed her eyes closed and pulled up her tee shirt to wipe her face. The last evening light was spreading warmth on her neck and shoulders through the window, and it felt good.

  “I think I’m ready. I’m sorry, Isabel.”

  “What’s wrong, Allyson?”

  Hesitation. What if she was wrong?

  “Isabel, may I come over now? Just for an hour or so? I have something to talk to you about, and I think I’d feel better being there in person.”

  “I’ll make tea.”

  Allyson thanked her and hung up the phone. As she drove to Laguna Beach, she watched the rear view mirror carefully. He might follow her, or have someone else do it. No matter what, she didn’t want to place Isabel in any more peril than she might already be in.

  Before she realized she had even turned on Laguna Canyon Road, she was there. Together, she and Isabel sat at the faded table inside, the chart they had created on the wall behind it. Allyson stared at it, not believing all that was happening to them. Isabel looked at her, patient, waiting for her to get her fears off her chest.

  “Isabel, I believe the one you spoke of is my father.” Allyson’s eyes were red and swollen from her earlier tears.

  “Who?”

  “The one you called the evil one.”

  Isabel nodded slowly. “Why?”

  “You don’t think so?”

  Isabel
chuckled softly and took Allyson’s hand gently in hers. “How would I know, sweetheart? I’m waiting for you, the four of you, to present possibilities to me.”

  Isabel got up and walked to the weathered wood porch in the front of her house and Allyson followed her out, her heart heavy. She was sure her father was the reincarnation of the original warlock, Murdock, and she would not rest until she knew one way or the other. Isabel sat in a wicker chair that looked close to deteriorating from exposure to sun and weather over the years. The color of the chair was no longer discernible.

  “I know Ellen and Joshua were lovers then, as you and Peter are now,” she said. “I don’t believe there are any rules other than the fact that you all come together with each incarnation. Who is to say you’ve even met the evil one yet? It may still be to come and perhaps when it happens, you will have no doubts whatsoever. A revelation, so to speak. But remember, Allyson. You all have the advantage now. You will be aware and actively seeking this person. For now, this gives you power over him, and a chance to emerge the victors in a match that has, for centuries, been a losing proposition.” Isabel drank from a glass of water and added, “Keep your eyes sharp, your senses tuned. If you have not met him, you must be ready, for you will all meet him.”

  Isabel paused for a moment and said: “And remember, Allyson. If you don’t destroy him, he will destroy all of you. It’s what he’s always done and what he will always do if he feels threatened and is presented with the slightest opportunity.”

  The chills that were becoming more and more a daily part of Allyson’s life returned with a vengeance. Isabel’s comments were certainly valid. And frightening.

  Allyson wondered, for the first time since her suspicions began, if her father’s treatment of her was merely coincidence. After all, he’d been like that for years, and she’d never really questioned why. Still, she didn’t want to drop it. She rubbed her face with her hands and sat in the equally rickety chair opposite Isabel. “Father has always been controlling and manipulative. My feelings have never mattered in the slightest.”

  “Have you suggested this to Peter?”

  Allyson shook her head. She had been afraid to mention it to him until she felt sure. “No,” she said.

  “Child,” Isabel interrupted. “First of all, I trust Peter’s inner feelings. They are ancient. Second, fathers with daughters are often obsessed with protecting them, with making them successful. It does not mean he is the evil one.”

  “But it doesn’t mean he’s not!” Allyson started to cry again, and Isabel stood from the creaky chair and pulled her close. Allyson cursed her weakness, her fear. Afraid of her father, afraid of her own past. She was fucking sick of being afraid. Still, the tears came.

  Isabel squeezed her. “Shh. We have to learn the truth. We mustn’t waste time we cannot afford to lose. Do you understand?”

  Allyson wiped at her tears, and said, “Isabel, he’s so hard, so cruel. How will I know? Will my father be the one to end up killing Peter? Emma? All of us? I’d kill him myself first!”

  Isabel shook her head. “Calm, Allyson. You must keep your head about you, first and foremost. Ask yourself these questions, then delve back into your past to find the answers. Are his intentions cruel, or are his intentions for your well-being? Does he do these things to make you miserable and sad, or does he do them because he believes your life is more important than anyone else’s? If it’s the last, then these are not the actions of a cruel, evil warlock. And that word does apply to The Evil One. But in this case, his actions may only be those of a misguided, though well-intentioned father, of which the world has many.”

  “Might you be wrong?”

  Isabel smiled. “Yes, child. I might be wrong. It would not be the first time. Why don’t you try him? Give him a picture and see if he is taken inside.”

  Allyson stared at her, as though this prospect frightened her. “Do we have any photographs of Ferguson Carver? And if we do, what then? What if he does go inside? What do I do then?”

  “I’d suggest you leave immediately. While he’s inside, you get out of there as fast as you can. If he is the one, he may have the ability to sense both worlds and leave the other to come for you. Come here if you must, but only if you’re sure he’s not following. That would be devastating not only to you, but to everyone.”

  “He already knows where you live. He was waiting outside one of the nights I was here.”

  Allyson pushed her hair back behind one ear, a habit she had when nervous. “Then you do believe it’s possible my father is the one we’re here to stop. Maybe I should take a photograph or two home and see if he picks them up and goes somewhere.”

  Isabel’s eyes grew dark. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because if you’re right, he’ll know. Not only that you are one of the original four, but that those you are with now are, too. It will accelerate this in a profound way, and perhaps not in your favor.”

  Allyson’s shoulders slumped. She knew Isabel was right. “I didn’t think of that.”

  “It’s okay. I did. Take the mushrooms tonight. Before any further risk is undertaken, you need to know what powers you possess that will allow you to counter them.”

  * * * * *

  As Peter had said, the beach was deserted. The sun was just now setting over the rim of the Pacific Ocean, and they had spread their towels out far from the water, up against the bluffs, rising high above them.

  “Ready?”

  “I am,” Matt said.

  “I know you are. Hope this doesn’t fuck with your sobriety.”

  Matt shrugged. “I used to have beer chasers with my mushrooms.”

  “Not today,” Emma said. “You’re doing great, Matt. I’m proud of you.”

  Matt pulled Emma into his arms and gave her a squeeze. “You help, Em. You’re a good friend.” He kissed her on the cheek and she smiled, then kissed him quickly on the mouth.

  “I’ll always help you, Matt.”

  “Mushroom time,” Allyson said. “My pick.”

  She reached in the baggy and removed a medium-sized cap. Opening a bottle of water beforehand, she popped it in her mouth, chewed briefly, and chased it with the water. Her face immediately twisted into a grimace. “Tastes like crap.”

  “I remember that taste without even tasting it,” Peter said, shuddering. “Like you’re tasting the drug, not the mushroom.” He took his the same way. The largest one.

  “Me next,” Matt said. He took the biggest of the remaining two, and Emma took the last one.

  They sat on their towels and waited for the fireworks to begin.

  * * * * *

  The buzz was mild. So much so that Peter wasn’t sure he was even high at first. “This stuff is really mellow,” he said.

  “Yeah, but I feel it,” Allyson said. “Back of my throat, like a tingle.”

  “Well, should we get down to business?” Emma said. “Try some tricks?”

  Matt laughed out loud. “I may sound like a pussy, but I’m a little scared.”

  “Pussy,” Peter said.

  “Shut up, Web,” Emma told Peter.

  Everyone laughed.

  “I guess we are a little spaced,” Allyson said. “I’m going first.”

  As Peter watched, Allyson closed her eyes and put her hands flat on her knees, her legs crossed in the sand. “What’re you doing?” he asked.

  “Shh. I’m focusing on doing anything in my power.”

  Peter laughed, and it surprised him. He was buzzed. “Anything in your power? Isn’t that a little vague? Shouldn’t you be more specific?”

  Emma said, “Well, Webby, I guess that would make this a bit more efficient, but since we have to figure out what we can do before we can hone in on those specific talents, we’ll have to generalize for a bit.” She smiled and pushed him and Peter rolled over and laughed again.

  “Right.”

  Peter lay there an indiscernible amount of time, feeling the rumble of the distant, crashing
waves vibrate against every grain of sand beneath him, feeling the now faint tingle of psilocybin between his throat and nose. A few stars were floating in the sky above him, and each held its own brilliance and mystery. As his affected mind began to drift toward them, soon to be among them, Peter heard words in his ear. He snapped to the present, physical world and whirled around, but nobody was there.

  A chill ran down his spine, then up, then back down, only to begin its journey back up again.

  “It’s me, Peter. Over here.”

  Peter whirled the other way, but again, no one. “Okay, it sounds like you, Ally. What’s with the ventriloquism?”

  This time the whisper was right in his ear, soft, sensual. “I’m out of my body, Webby. I’m right here. Come with me.”

  Peter looked beside him. Allyson's body was in repose on the sand, a slight smile on her face, but she did not move a muscle. He smiled. Her beauty was pure.

  “Peter,” she whispered again, her lips still as he watched her.

  “How do I do it, Ally?”

  “Feel yourself separating from your physical body. Hold your hand up and I'll try to take you.”

  Peter lay back on the sand again and lifted his right hand toward the voice in front and above him, reaching for the invisible Allyson. Suddenly, he felt a strange, almost electrostatic buzz in his fingertips, then all the way down his arm.

  Up, his mind urged. Rise up and out.

  “Listen to it, Peter. You’re almost here.”

  With one final effort, Peter lifted up, up, feeling the separation from his physical form. A crackling sound filled the air, and as he rose up, Allyson became visible to him. Her face glowed, her skin iridescent, as though her soul shone through from deep inside her. Peter drifted into her arms and wrapped his around her. The feeling was like a melding of their spirits, and for a moment, he was entirely lost in it.

  “Ally . . . I have a feeling we’ve become one.”

  “Me, too. As though our molecules have fused . . . or merged, or . . . I don’t know. I feel love like I’ve never felt before.”

  Peter pulled away from her for a moment and looked down at the sand. Their bodies lay beside one another, the fingers of their hands intertwined. Their heads were turned slightly toward one another, the foreheads touching.