“Sibyl. I’m waiting.”
“Oh, wow.” Elliot grinned like a kid at Christmas as he replayed the message. “As you can see, folks, none of us were talking or moving when this was captured.”
I wanted to be happy for him, but I was shaken. I found Cyrus in the shadows and he gestured down to the equipment cases. I knew what he was referring to. I had hidden the mirror in my duffle bag. He was saying I needed it. I shook my head.
I wasn’t ready to contact Catherine. And even if I was, I’m sure the large mirror upstairs would be a much better conduit for the communications.
“Sibyl. Sibyl, come to me.”
I spun around to face the direction the voice was coming from. Joey had followed my lead, whistling as he spoke. “Did you hear that?”
“Yeah.” I swallowed. “Catherine wants us to come upstairs.”
“So let’s go.” Elliot had his recorder ready as he leaned to the side, attempting to look up the staircase. “Eva, you stay here.”
“Are you kidding me?” I was hit with an anger I couldn’t explain. “Do you think I can’t handle her? Do you really think I can’t face this thing?”
I don’t know where the anger came from, but it was as if someone had lined my vision with red. I cursed, snatching the recorder from Elliot’s hands and shoved him aside. “Get out of my way.”
“What the hell, Eva?” Elliot went to grab my arm but froze as the voice from above could be heard again.
“Sibyl, oh, Sibyl.” Catherine was singing the title I’d been given as sweetly as a lullaby. “Come. See me. I’ve got a message for you.”
I shoved past Elliot, bounding up the stairs two at a time. I didn’t stop running until I was in the bedroom. Catherine had fallen silent, yet I could feel her presence. I could feel the anger radiating from the mirror showcased in this wretched place. I wanted to be afraid, but I didn’t hesitate as I entered the room.
The door slammed closed behind me.
I paid no attention to it, or the sounds made by the others as they tried to get inside. “What do you want from me, Catherine? What is your message?”
Her image was just as terrifying now as it had been that afternoon. Yet she made no moves to harm me. Catherine Tillotson laughed as if delighted, caressing the line across her throat.
“My message is more of a request. A demand if you will.”
“Well what is it?” I stomped my foot in frustration. “I don’t have all day.”
“You are immortal, are you not? I am well versed in your history, creature. We all are.” Catherine’s dark eyes flashed. “What I want is simple enough. I wish for you to free me from this purgatory Samuel cast me into.”
“Samuel.” The second spirit who was supposed to haunt this place had yet to make an appearance. I didn’t see anyone else in the mirror, nor had we had any interaction with him since this whole thing started. “Where is Samuel, Catherine?”
“Down below.” She turned as if to see something in the darkness behind her. “So far down below.”
“Let me speak to him.”
“Samuel is gone. A hopeless cause.” Catherine returned her focus onto me. “Do come closer, Sibyl.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” I planted my feet in the carpet, crossing my arms over my chest. “I still have a mark where you cut me earlier. I am not going through that again.”
“It was a test. Nothing more. I had to make sure you were truly who I thought you were.”
I sighed, dropping my arms to my side. I was being hit with an exhaustion which caused my eyes to burn. “I am a messenger, Catherine. I will tell your story to the world. This is all I can offer you.”
“Ah, but you are very useful. More so than as a simple mouthpiece.” Catherine pressed her hands against the other side of the glass. “Please, come closer. I fear my strength is waning much like yours. I am losing my ability to speak.”
I moved, not realizing how she had drawn me in until I was almost touching the glass. “What happened the night of the murder? Is this your message?”
I was distracted only when the old door finally gave way. I turned at the sound of the crash to see Elliot, Joey, and Cyrus rushing into the room.
Their distraction proved to be my own damnation. Catherine shrieked as she reached through the glass, grabbing my arm to pull me through.
How can I describe what such an experience was like? I sent through the solid glass as if it were water. I didn’t go all the way through, thank god, since Cyrus was there. He had a hold on my waist, jerking me back. My keeper was yelling something, but I couldn’t hear him. The whispers which had assaulted me so much in the beginning surrounded me here. So much so that as Catherine grabbed my face, I couldn’t hear her words. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t fight. Catherine’s memories began to flash behind my eyes and I knew. I could see the farmhouse as it had been before. The windows were white from the piles of snow that had drifted up around them. The blizzard had been worse than anything we’d read about in the historical reports. Snow had fallen for weeks, barricading the Tillotsons inside. I could see Catherine, her body weakened by the starvation which had set in when their food supplies had ran out two weeks before. She was lying in the bed, too weak to stand.
A man appeared in my vision, standing over her. Samuel Tillotson was staring at her. He had been waiting on her to die. She knew this just I did. But Catherine was too strong. She reached for her husband, pulling him to sit on the bed by her side. Samuel was as hungry as she was. But he was too stubborn to join her deathbed. His family had been pioneers. They learned to survive despite the death surrounding them when the first settlements had appeared in the mountains of Tennessee. She knew he would find a way to survive this. So when he pulled his knife free from the belt he wore it on, she wasn’t surprised. She was angry.
“What is this?” Catherine swallowed. “Are you planning on ending my suffering here? Tonight?”
“Yes.” Samuel grasped her hand. “And mine.”
These were the last words he ever spoke to her. Samuel Tillotson had slit her throat as easily as he had the remaining animals they had slaughtered weeks before. I watched as Catherine’s body went limp, her eyes staring out into nothing as her soul was released. Then, it was her turn to watch. Catherine’s spirit formed in the corner as her husband took her body, stripping it down and carrying it downstairs. He had lit a fire in their fireplace, hanging a single pot above the flames. She watched in horror as he worked, knowing all too well what her fate had become.
“Oh my god.” I wanted to throw up at the images assaulting my mind. “Oh my god.”
I felt myself falling backwards, collapsing onto the floor as Catherine’s hold tightened around me. She was coming out of the glass, her dark eyes gleaming as she chanted words I couldn’t understand.
“Release her.” Cyrus was there, shoving me away from the woman determined to keep her grip on me. I watched him jump in between me and the spirit. In his right hand, a transparent sword glowed with a golden light I’d never seen before.
“Where does he keep that thing? In his coat pocket?” Joey whistled as he inched forward to stand behind me. Elliot had knelt down, trying to pull me back as Cyrus thrust his weapon forward. Catherine shrieked when he found his target, her arm fading into the shadows. She tried once more, lunging towards me as Cyrus did his best to keep her back.
“Eva, the door. Do it now!”
The door. My door. My protection against the hell filling my mind. I stared at the woman still struggling to free herself from the glass. “Apollo, give me strength.”
The wooden door I had created only a few days before formed next to my own reflection. I stood up, shoving my arms outward as if to slam it close. The glass shifted, rippling as the door moved when I did. Catherine screamed as the weight of the wood shoved her back into the mirror. I rushed forward, pressing my palms against the glass as I formed the chains and said the first words which appeared in my mi
nd.
“By Apollo’s light, leave this realm never to return.”
The door in the mirror glowed as the screams coming from the other side fell silent. I didn’t move until the door faded beneath my hands. I took two steps before stumbling into Elliot’s arms with a sob.
“She’s gone, Elliot. It’s over. She is gone.”
***
“The mystery behind what occurred in the Tillotson household was one of desperation. Samuel Tillotson killed his wife in order to survive. I believe he killed himself in the weeks that followed not out of guilt, but because he didn’t have any other choice. Catherine’s spirit drove him mad.”
I leaned back in the plush theatre seat, staring at my lap so I didn’t have to face my image on the screen. I had been sitting on the porch steps, Elliot beside me, as we talked about what happened during filming.
Now, three weeks later, we were screening the first episode with a small group of handpicked staffers to gauge their reactions. If they didn’t like it, we would have to go back to work, cutting or adding scenes we had taken out. Joseph Lancaster was famous for the quality of his television shows. Ours was no different.
My voice on screen melded into the music Elliot had chosen for the ending credits. He decided to have text close out the show which detailed the aftermath of our investigation. These last three lines talked about Joanna’s shock in finding out just how wrong Catherine’s legend had been. They also said that all paranormal activity had ceased since our visit there.
This much was true. Joanna had been furious when we called for a follow up interview last week. She screamed at Elliot for chasing Catherine away. There hadn’t been a single footstep since we left. I knew why. Catherine’s soul had been banished to the depths of Hell thanks to my little chant. Then she screamed at me for making up lies about her ancestor murdering his wife just to eat her.
I wish it had been a lie. My encounter with Catherine’s memories had given me enough nightmares to last a lifetime.
The film ended and there was silence as the lights came on. Elliot took my hand, squeezing it as we waited. We didn’t have to wait for long. The applause breaking the silence was the first thing to tell us we had a hit.
Connor was the second. He stood up from his seat on the front row, gesturing for the three of us to stand.
“Eva, Elliot, and Joey, everyone!” He raised a flask in our direction. “Congratulations on Grave Messages.”
Elliot pulled me to the front, turning and addressing the small group. He answered all the questions he could, but unfortunately, the focus was on me. Questions were thrown at me like knives.
“Have you always been able to talk to the dead?” A fat woman decked out in diamonds called out from the back row. “Were you born with this gift?”
“What was it like to go through the mirror?” This one came from a man who could have stepped out of an issue of Hipster’s Quarterly. “What can you tell us about the afterlife?”
I answered what I could before turning to Elliot for an escape. He picked up on my distress immediately.
“Thank you all for coming out tonight. Connor has all the information you will need about the show. Thank you again.”
The questions continued until we were out of the room. Only then did Joseph Lancaster step forward, extending his hand out to his son.
“Congratulations, Elliot. Eva.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Elliot shifted in place as he shook Joseph’s hand. “We appreciate it.”
“Kathy was right about you, Eva.” Joseph smiled as he released Elliot’s hand and clasped my own. “She said you would be strong enough for her line of work. I was not disappointed.”
“Wait,” I tightened my grip on Joseph’s hand. “Kathy, as in Kathy Carter?”
“Yes. She was,” Joseph paused for a moment before he continued. “She was an old friend.”
“I don’t understand.” I thought back to New York and the session which changed me. “She picked me out of a crowd after I had disrupted her presentation. How could she have talked to you about me?”
“Kathy saw you here through her mirror. She had hoped her visions were true.” Joseph released my hands. “They were. It all worked out for the best, don’t you see? You have your hit show. Kathy was able to go to her death.”
I was too stunned to be angry. I had been set up. Joseph bid us his farewells and disappeared back into the screening room. I turned on Elliot like an angry cat.
“Did you know about this?” I was so mad I could have spit. I think I did just a little. “Were you in on setting me up, too?”
“Eva, whoa.” Elliot stepped back, his hands up in the air. “Of course not! How could you even think such a thing?”
“You were the one who wanted to go to that stupid conference. You were the one who picked out that particular session and, might I add, the front row seat. Did you know her, too?”
“I’d heard of Kathy Carter.” Elliot’s eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “But I care about you, Eva. Give me some credit. Dad’s right about one thing though. Things did turn out pretty well for you. After all, without the mirror, you wouldn’t have your precious Cyrus by your side.”
“What does he have to do with anything?” I mirrored Elliot’s position as I glared at him. “Cyrus is a friend, Elliot.”
“A friend you happen to get cozy with in Kansas.” Elliot’s eyes flashed with his own anger. “Don’t deny it. I just happen to come downstairs when I didn’t find you in your room. As I recall, you two were drinking away and snuggling up pretty close on the couch.”
“So you don’t trust me.” I dropped my arms and shook my head. “I thought you would be the last person to doubt me. This was a mistake, Elliot.”
“Mistake.” Elliot stuffed his hands in his pockets as he nodded. “Us or the show?”
“All of it.”
I felt the anger leaving me as I willed for him to tell me how wrong I was. I wanted him to sweep me up in his arms, kiss me, and never let me go. But he was just as stubborn as I was. Elliot’s face became unreadable as he studied me.
“We signed the contracts, so we are stuck with each other for another year. I will do my best to stay out of your way at home until I can find a new place to live.”
My heart broke as I realized what he was saying. Our short lived romance was over. Our friendship, which had meant more to me than life itself, was over. I felt my tears burning in the corners of my eyes, but I willed them no to fall.
It was the hardest thing I’d ever done.
“Come on, Eva. Let’s go.” Cyrus appeared to take my arm. “There is nothing more to be done here.”
“He’s right.” Elliot was still studying me. “Go home. Get some rest. I’ll see you at work on Monday.”
“Elliot, wait.”
“No.” Elliot waved behind him as he went back towards the room we had just left. “There is nothing more we need to say.”
I didn’t have the strength to follow him. I held back my tears until I had sank down into seat of a cab which pulled up out of nowhere. Cyrus shut my door for me and joined me moments later.
“Hush, Little One. Things will right themselves. Just give it some time.”
I lowered my face into my hands, crying harder. Cyrus was still for only a moment before he wrapped his arm around my shoulder to pull me against him. Cyrus was my rock. He was here for me.
Cyrus had no choice. He had to stay by my side whether he wanted to be or not.
“Do you wish to talk about it?” Cyrus shifted beneath me, then handed me the silver flask. “Drink some whiskey. It will calm your nerves.”
I shook my head, not ready drown my sorrows yet. Instead, I pulled out the golden cell phone he had given me. I hadn’t used it since the night we filmed in Kansas. I turned it on, unlocking the screen and pressing the icon to pull up the text screen I needed. I started typing, stopping only to wipe the tears away when they began to blur my vision. I needed to get my mind off of El
liot, even if it were only for few minutes. I turned my focus towards Apollo.
Were you pleased? Was the show everything you expected?
I hit send and waited. After all, who would expect a god to respond? How long would it take? Turns out, Apollo was quicker than I could have imagined. I had barely lowered the phone into my lap when it vibrated in my hand. He responded with a single line filled with a promise of my future as his Sibyl.
You did well, child. I am sure I will be hearing from you soon.
** End **
Volume Two: The Fanatic
Prologue
Allison Thomason
We are all looking for someone to save us. Fairy tales promised us white knights on gleaming horses who would ride in, slay the monsters, and sweep us away to our happily ever after. But nobody ever told me what would happen if the white knight didn't show up. There were no fairy tales that talked about what happened to the princess once her demons took over.
But I know. My demons attacked months ago. They stole my life from me. My passion. They had fought along side my enemy, so I learned real quick to rely on the one hero who had been here all along. The one person I'd always been afraid to believe in.
Myself.
I was going to create my own happily ever after. Knights and demons be damned.
I lit the final candle before I stepped back to inspect my deathbed. I had set everything up in the center of my living room. Three red candles flickered on the headboard. Two black ones gleamed at the foot. The sheets had been soaked with as much kerosene as I could legally buy here in Los Angeles. Perhaps it was the fumes affecting me. Or maybe the whispers about me had been correct. Maybe I really had gone over the proverbial edge, but I smiled.
Within the hour, all of my problems would disappear. If my work here was successful, the one person responsible for my life falling apart would be damned along with me.
I wanted to die. I wasn’t afraid. I knew too much about the afterlife to be afraid. When I was little, my momma tried to replace my obsession with the grandeur of heaven. If only I would give my soul to Jesus, then I would be alright. Instead, I shunned her religion. I had spent my life trying to discover all I could about what lay on the other side of the Veil. Death became my business. Spirits were my passion. I’d been obsessed with the grave for as long as I could remember.
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