by S. B. Niccum
She was amazed sometimes at how well things were turning out for her. Nothing or no one seemed to be able to touch her. Her relations went so deep, that she was confident that she could virtually escape any wrongdoing. Only one person, the spirits told her, could harm her future—Tess DeLeon. From the beginning the spirits had warned her about Tess, and now they were particularly adamant about her. For this reason she had brought in her last acquisition: Eugenia.
As Agatha surveyed the finishing touches to the home that she had purchased as the base of operation for her society, she mused over Eugenia and her role. A smile stole across her face as she thought about bringing Eugenia into the fold. It seemed like poetic justice to her, using the one to bring the other down.
Satisfied with all the repairs and additions to the main areas of the old house, Agatha descended to the lower levels of the home, the dungeon, as she mockingly called it. It was to be the most secret part of the house, the place where the sacrifices and the initiations would take place. It was also her sanctuary, the only place where she could perform her rituals without being disturbed.
These three chambers had been finished first and Agatha, herself, decorated the rooms. With only Eros’ help, she hung the scarlet drapes that covered the barren walls of the ritual room; she packed the corners with tall candelabra and crowned them with thick pillar candles. She painted the circle on the floor and placed more candles along the lines. Above the circle hung a huge rustic chandelier that also gave only candlelight, “This room would be lit by me through the power of the Source.” Agatha smiled as she waved her hand and the group of candles on the floor lit up. With another sweep she put them out.
Slowly she walked into the sacrificial room. Here the walls were exposed brick and three sides of the walls were adorned with her ancient weapons collection. The far wall held the sign of the Source and the All Seeing Eye with an altar in front of it. Feeling the cold stone of the altar, Agatha closed her eyes and tried to imagine the sacrifices that would be offered up there. This brought her as close to feeling butterflies as she ever could.
The third room was left bare, resembling a prison cell. The walls were white and there were no windows. There was only one cot, one table, and one chair in it. Feeling the walls with her fingertips she remembered that she had to set the plan in motion. Everything had to work with precision and exactness if it was going to work at all. Agatha dug her phone out of her pocket and her fingers started moving quickly across the screen as she drafted the text message.
“I hope you’re enjoying your new job, Eugenia! Look sharp tomorrow; your lucky stars say you will have another break.”
As predicted, Eugenia got her divorce papers just a few days after she got her first job. She wasn’t surprised, but she couldn’t help feeling melancholy nonetheless. She had grown accustomed to the title of Mrs. Hudson; it carried power with it, if nothing else. Now she was another ex-Mrs. Hudson, and that was far worse than having never been so.
She wasted no time in changing her name back to its original form and decided that she would make a name for herself. A name that she would be proud of and no one would be able to take away from her.
Lunch hour found her looking busy at the computer, and she decided that sacrifices such as these were the ones that would help her get ahead, until the anonymous text came through. It came just in time actually, right when her hungry stomach was giving a lurch and making an unbecoming gurgling sound. She suspected the source of the text—the mysterious woman who had taken an interest in her welfare—the reason she had this current job, her magic genie.
“I wonder who she is and why she wants to help me? Then again, the director said that he himself had been the recipient of that lady’s attention and he owed her his job as well.” If it was good enough for him, it would be good enough for her. So without another thought, Eugenia slammed her computer shut and left work. Who needed to work when you had Aladdin’s genie on your side?
When she got back to her house, she found all her belongings packed and stacked in neat boxes outside the manned gate. She regretted now, not being kinder to the guy whose job it was to let people in through the gate. She never even noticed him until now, and even after staring at him, she still couldn’t tell if he had been the only man who ever worked the gate or simply one of many. The man’s stony expression told her enough, but she needed help loading some of these boxes into her car.
“Do you mind helping me?” she called tentatively, hoping that he had a soft spot for a damsel in distress.
“You’re supposed to leave the car keys with me ma’am.” The man poked his head out the tiny window and stuck out his hand to receive the key.
“How am I supposed to take all these boxes, then? And where am I to go? I just got the papers this morning. I’ve had no time to make arrangements!”
“Sorry, ma’am.” He wiggled his fingers with impatience and a complete lack for pity.
Eugenia stared at the man for a second. With a roll of her eyes, she dialed her phone and turned her back on the man, not giving him the key.
As she hung up the phone with a taxi service, she pondered who else she might call to help her haul all her stuff. But she had no close friends, no one who would actually help her move a few boxes or even pick her up if she got in a bind. She scanned her memory for times in which she might have had actual friends, and nothing but high school memories came up. Alex … he was at the center of all those memories. “I wonder what he’s up to?” Eugenia thought longingly. She had always been able to manipulate him easily enough. It had been so long since she had seen him; her curiosity quickly turned into introspection, and her introspection told her that she still had a thing for him. “Well, Alex, I might just have to see what you’ve been up to all these years.” Her thoughts were interrupted by the honking of a cab.
“Would you help me load these up please?” Eugenia said poking her head in through the window.
“I’m not a moving service!” the man said, annoyed.
“Well, right now you are!” Eugenia shoved a box in the passenger seat and glared at the man daringly.
She was sweating by the time she was done stacking boxes in both cars. She told the cab to follow her to a storage unit, then waved insolently at the man in the booth; who upon seeing that she was not about to relinquish her keys, quickly got on the phone.
Showered and safely checked into a motel, Eugenia got on her computer and let her fingers hover over the keyboard for just a moment. There were several things she needed to find; a car, an apartment; but instead, she typed—Alexander Preston.
Rage filled her as she read about his illustrious career in politics and his fairy-tale marriage to Tess, that infuriating little foster kid. Seething jealousy turned into murderous thoughts; when she went on to find out that Tess had actually turned out to be the only heir to a large Spanish fortune. With nostrils flaring, Eugenia settled into another kind of introspection. She would take any and all help from this mysterious woman, and she would take back what was rightfully hers! She drifted off to sleep with visions of her in Alex’s arms, a power couple—him in the White House, her in the anchor chair.
Chapter 29
Valerie watched her family gaily interacting over a large pan of lasagna. Everyone was there, except for her father. She missed him terribly, in spite of the many disagreements they’d had over the years. Now that he was gone, his presence left a huge gap that no one could ever or would ever fill—his laughter, his jokes, and his stories, all gone! She was an orphan now.
In her hands she held the salad bowl, and decided that she’d better finish her errand. As she started moving forward, something made her stop. A movement off to her right caught her attention. Was it the cat?
Another movement, this time off to her left froze her in place. No cat is that fast, she thought, narrowing her eyes trying to focus them. Another, and another, and yet another fast moving shadow passed her on both sides. Chills run up and down her torso and arms, as she sa
w actual shadows zoom by her and gather like mist around her family.
None of them seemed to be aware of it, only her. Valerie let out a short cynical laugh, knowing all too well that she would be branded, yet again, as the crazy one, for noticing this. Why is it always me that sees things that don’t exist? Why can’t I just be normal? She thought, then her thoughts quickly turned from self-pity, to frustration, and then to anger.
The darkness was now high enough that it covered them completely and dark tendrils were coiling themselves around each one of them like ropes. Her anger turned to fear, a fear that spread through her, from the pit of her stomach to the depths of her heart.
A loud hissing sound emanated from the darkness; a sound that was indiscernible, but carried a message—despair. “Give up,” it seemed to say; “give up and end it all!” The suggestion sounded logical, and well within reason. She had tried that already … but failed, she had promised herself never go there again. “They don’t care,” the eerie voices suggested again. “This is for you … finish this miserable existence of yours. Always struggling … always fighting to keep it together … you’re a burden … they’ll be better off without you.”
Valerie shook her head and noticed that she too was bound by the darkness. Panicked, she screamed for help, but no one seemed to hear her. They, too, were bound and they were no longer laughing. Their frames shone, but the darkness seemed to be feeding itself on their light and they were slowly dimming—Alex’s in particular.
“Alex!” she shouted in warning, but a dark tendril covered her mouth, making it impossible to speak and hard to breathe.
Katie and Jase started shaking in attempts to get loose, but the harder they fought, the tighter the darkness held them. They struggled nonetheless, and right when they looked like they were about to escape, the thing tightened its grip so hard that they burst into tiny lights, like fireworks; and disappeared. The darkness laughed, and moved on to the next target, Alex. He too tried to fight it, but just like Katie and Jase, he exploded, leaving only falling lights behind.
“NO!” she screamed.
“What! What is it? Are you okay?” Dane’s face was filled with alarm at his wife’s blood curdling scream from right next to him in the bed.
Valerie shook her head, and tried to get her bearings. “Just a dream, it was just a dream,” she told herself and tried to steady her breathing. Tears stained her face and she realized she was covered in sweat.
“That’s right,” Dane soothed. “It was just a dream, breathe.” He gave her some examples on how she should breathe, then watched her intently.
“I’m afraid, Dane.”
“Shhh, shhh, don’t be.”
“Yes, Dane, I should be!” She turned to her husband with exasperation.
“No.”
Valerie shuddered, and tried to put her thoughts in order. “The forces of evil are converging on us, and…”
“Val…”
“And I’m worried for our children.”
“Nothing will happen to our children.”
“Have I ever been wrong, Dane?”
Dane’s mouth shut, then closed his eyes and shook his head. She had been a lot of things, but never wrong when it came to dreams.
Since I remembered the night of my mother’s murder, displaced images of my childhood seemed to start coming out of nowhere. Dane had warned me about this, and made himself available if I ever wanted to talk, but I talked to Alex instead. Each new memory—usually a flash of something—I would tell him about, and then I would write it down. I was finally piecing together my life.
It couldn’t have come at a worse time; we had very little privacy and time together lately. The House was in session and he was gone a lot. To make matters worse, word had gotten out about my father and his conviction and it was all over the media. From the next room I could hear two commentators discuss the issue of whether or not this would ruin Alex’s political future.
Annoyed, Alex turned off the TV and put his arms around me as I came into the room. All the worry and cares melted away whenever he did this.
“They’ll have their fun, and then it’ll be over. There isn’t anything more interesting to talk about right now; it’ll all be forgotten as soon as something better pops up.”
“I should come forward and clear his name … and yours in the process.”
“No.” Alex shook his head emphatically. “If your uncle finds out you were there, you’re as good as dead.”
“He could have come after me already, but he didn’t. He must know that something was wrong when he didn’t inherit. I don’t think he wants to come after me.”
“I’m not so sure.” Alex exhaled and paced the room. “Something feels fishy about all of this. I have this feeling that he’s been biding his time. He is a vicious man and he’s killed two people already … one directly and another, indirectly.”
I nodded and tried to warm a chill that was invading me. Roger had advised me against speaking up at this time, as well. I paced the room feeling cornered, on one hand I held all the cards that would clear my father’s name and remove the spot over Alex’s political future; and on the other, playing those cards could cost me my life, maybe even the lives of those I loved.
“Stop obsessing over her! I told you, I have it completely under control.” Agatha tightened a robe around her waist and sat at the breakfast table. She took a sip of her coffee and relished the taste, before reaching for a piece of toast.
“You keep saying that, but we haven’t done anything yet,” Eros pointed out, then clicked the TV off. “If she talks, it’s all over!” He waved the remote angrily around the room before stalking away. In the last few months Eros had gained a lot of weight and had a constant disgruntled look about him.
Agatha rolled her eyes. She was getting tired of hearing about his absurd need to have his family’s estate and getting what was rightfully his. They had gone over this a million times. The money was pretty much gone, Tess had done nothing but give that money away since she got it. This whole obsession of his was ridiculous. In fact, Eros was becoming ridiculous. But she was used to him, so she kept him—managed him—rather. His whole schedule was dictated by her, his moves, his business, everything, she controlled.
Eros let himself be led by Agatha as if hypnotized. He suspected nothing of her waning feelings for him and was content to do as she said; even a little relieved that he no longer had to think of everything. Agatha had a vision, a master plan, and he trusted it implicitly. Everything in his life had gone better since she took the reins. Besides, there was something about her that spooked him into subservience. He was either with her or against her and the latter, he never wanted to experience.
“Trust me, dear,” Agatha said acidly between sips of her coffee, “she will not enjoy your inheritance much longer. But things have to happen naturally; you can’t rush revenge. It gets messy.” She looked ironically at Eros, who caught her drift. She was referring to his hasty pull of the trigger that killed Tess’ mother.
“Do you think that she knows what happened that day?” Eros asked with a faraway look.
“I told you already, I grew up with her. She always claimed to have no memory of her childhood before she entered foster care. If she did, you’d be in custody right now.” Her matter-of-fact tone sent shivers up his spine. But he pushed his fears aside and placed his trust in her, leaving his conscience clean and pure-ish.
“We’re on our way back now, honey,” Jase crooned to Robyn over the phone. “Mom and Dad miss you!” Katie added, yanking the receiver from her husband’s grip. Jase smirked and grabbed it again, only to place it right between the two of them, so they could both hear their daughter’s voice.
“She’s fine,” Dane assured the parents. “We’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Tell them I need to talk to them!” Valerie raced from the other room and stood eagerly by the phone. Dane shook his head, trying to dissuade his wife from frightening them. But she was adamant.<
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“Hold on, mom wants to say something.” He gave Valerie a warning look that she ignored.
“Katie?”
“Hi mom! We got all the samples we needed, so we’re heading home tonight.”
“That’s great sweetie, listen, I—had—” nothing she could think to say sounded coherent. “Please be safe.” She hoped that the anxiety on her voice would translate into how safe they should be.
“Okay, mom, of course we will.”
“I mean it Katie, I have a bad feeling.”
Katie knew what that meant. Something bad was about to happen.
“I understand, mom. Please take good care of Robyn, and,” what could she possibly say? Life was life. It was unpredictable. Katie knew very well that anything could happen, to anyone, at any point. That’s why she had adopted the mentality of living and enjoying life in the moment. When Robyn was born, they had asked Tess and Alex to be her godparents, because heaven only knew how much they loved her. They had a hefty life insurance policy, and they had a hazardous job that they loved. But lots of people did what they did, and they lived long and happy lives. So why did she feel like someone had just walked over her grave?
She shook her head, “Mom, we’ll be fine! I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
Valerie nodded, “Of course, dear, of course. I love you very much.” A sob threatened to choke her, so she passed the phone back to Dane, who finished the conversation in hushed tones.
As the small charter plane shook convulsively and the passengers screamed, Katie felt calm. She reached her hand over to Jase, who held it tightly. They looked into each other’s eyes and relived their whole lives together. Fear never gripped them as the small plane nosedived to the ground and burst into flames.