by S. B. Niccum
“Interesting,” the being mused. “She doesn’t tremble, she doesn’t fall?” As soon as it said that, Agatha started twitching and shaking unnaturally. I moved back to give her room and in a few seconds she seemed to be rid of the thing that possessed her.
I watched as she regained her composure, and saw relief washing over her as the effects of the possession wore off and she regained command of her senses once again.
“You hate it don’t you?” I whispered with awe; and she looked at me with shock and anger. I had found her weak spot. To the rest, who acted like monkeys when they did this, Agatha looked like a supreme being who could handle anything. But the truth was that she seldom did it, and when she did, she hated it.
Furiously and without delay, Agatha started mumbling some other words and as she did so the rest of the members started chanting some hypnotic string of words. Immediately my body went rigid and I could no longer feel my limbs. Everything felt detached from me, even my head! I couldn’t even blink. I could see that my feet were no longer touching the ground and I could hear Dorian gasp, but I couldn’t turn my head to look at him and my eyeballs would not move in any direction either. All I could do was stare straight ahead unblinkingly and barely breathe enough air through my nostrils to stay alive.
I was clearly levitating, my face was staring at the ceiling’s massive candle chandelier and my eyes were starting to dry out from lack of moisture and from the heat they emanated. This aggravated my eyes and they started to water, but the tears slid down the sides of my nose and wasted away, instead of giving the needed moisture to my burning eyes. I tried to speak, but I was literally tongue-tied. I wondered if this would damage my eyes permanently; it definitely didn’t feel good.
“I want to speak with Eros!” Agatha demanded.
I wanted to tell her to go to hell, but I couldn’t. Then I tried to tell her that it didn’t work that way, but I still couldn’t utter a single word. Some of the onlookers from the ‘society’ started to laugh at my predicament.
I for one started to wish a speedy death. My eyes had reached a new level of irritation; my head throbbed with a migraine of weariness from lack of sleep.
“Make a connection with Eros, and I’ll release you!” She growled then released whatever was binding my face muscles and I was able to blink, but my tears were all dried up and I could barely close my eyes to give them the needed moisture. When I finally got them closed, I kept them shut hoping that my tear ducts would soon start working again.
“I said, I want to speak with Eros!” she yelled again and extended my arms away from my sockets, all while I was still hovering above her.
“I—c—can’t,” I groaned, this time from the pain in my arms.
“I know you can talk to the spirits of the dead! I know you have been in communication with your dead husband, now call on mine and I’ll release you!”
I shook my head to clear it, but she took this to mean that I was denying her my gift, so she started pulling on my legs now. “I—can’t talk to dead people! I’m just … sick!”
“Nice try Tess, but I know better. I’ve watched you since we were little, and I know that you have had visitations from an early age. Besides, they,” she waved her arm in a circle, “are the ones that told me of your gift, so don’t pretend with me!”
“Well they are also the ones that told me that I had made it all up and that I was schizophrenic!” I protested.
“Lies!” she shouted, “lies!” She looked around the room at the invisible creatures that presently were laughing. “Don’t you hear them Tess? Can’t you hear them?”
I nodded.
“Sacrifice her to Monad!” Eugenia shouted from the sidelines.
“Yeah!” Marcel agreed.
At this point I no longer cared, I was done—spent, confused, tired and sick of it all. My eyes were still shut and protested every time I tried to open them. I welcomed death and I told her this much.
“I will not release you until you do as I say. I will torture you and every member or your family until you do.”
Ever member of my what? What family? Then I looked off to one side and saw Dorian standing there, avoiding eye contact with everyone, unprotected and completely oblivious to what was going on around him—at least he looked oblivious. Then I thought of little Robyn. She was about the same age I was when I got to Charlotte’s house. That seemed like ages ago, like a whole different life!
Suddenly and without any warning, Agatha released me from whatever was holding me up and I fell down, face first with a loud thud.
“You get to choose your path in life,” a mystifying looking creature said as she swayed a lion’s tail. She was beautiful and completely golden. From her torso upwards, she was human, but from her belly down, she had the body of a lioness. Her expression was calm, wise and sincere. And her eyes … I remember those eyes, I’ve seen those eyes before … in my dreams.
“You mean I get to choose how my life goes?” I asked as I grazed the low branch of a huge tree with my hand, I looked disappointed at something.
It was me but I looked different, I had no substance, I was … see-through. I also radiated a soft pink glow that spoke of excitement and determination.
“Don’t you wish!” the creature laughed. “It’s more like … well, you’ve heard mortals talk about destiny, right? They often say that they feel like they are destined for something or other,” she said, pausing under the shade of another large-leafed tree that sent its roots down to the ground from its branches.
“Yeah, I’ve heard them say that.” I responded, intent on what she was telling me.
I was looking down on this scene as if I were floating in mid air. I looked around me and noticed that I was in a huge paradisiacal garden. Everything was in bloom; everything looked pristine like a heavenly paradise. Was I dreaming? If so, good! This was better than where I was before.
“Well, they do because of this meeting. You will decide the possible course of your life. The Eternals are linked to the High Council, and they use their abilities as seers to show you the direction your life might take. It all depends on your decisions of course, but you will be shown two possible roads your life might take, given two possible circumstances. Then they will show you the possible outcomes of either path. You choose the one you think you want to do.” I saw myself being regarded by the creature as she straightened her golden dreadlocks. I knew what I was thinking; I was in awe of her … her poise, beauty and strength. She embodied everything I wanted to be.
“I would like to be like you …” I said, and the creature smiled.
“It does depend on your choices while you are alive,” she continued, “but let’s say that you make all the right choices…which path would you rather walk? The easier path, or the harder path?”
“Doesn’t everyone choose the easier path?”
“Some, but not all.”
“Well that’s silly, why would anyone willingly choose a harder path if they could help it?”
“I chose the harder path, it made me who I am,” she said, and that comment alone convinced me of the course I would choose. I could see the determination on my face. I would choose the harder path, so I could be just like her!
The image of this garden and this conversation faded into a great cloud-like fog. Everywhere I turned I saw nothing but that impenetrable fog, when out in the distance I saw something shimmery move. I focused my eyes, that no longer felt pain, and I saw her coming out of the fog.
The creature from earlier was walking on all fours toward me. She irradiated a beautiful golden light, like sand in a sunny beach. She had a smile on her face and a glint in her eyes that seemed to hold some secret amusement.
She stopped right in front of me and sat on her hind legs. “Are you ready?” she purred.
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, ready for what? She found my silence or my thought amusing because she smiled as she brought one of her hands forward toward me. She turned her hand over and
from her palm sprung a flame.
“Here, hold it until the time comes.”
“It will burn me!” I protested.
“It only burns stubble.”
I frowned and she moved her hand closer toward me.
“This is the refiner’s fire, the burning in the bosom, the Eternals’ gift to the pure in heart and the fire and brimstone of the wicked. It will not hurt you or Dorian—I promise.”
Uncertainly I extended my hand and she dropped the flame into the palm of my hand as if it were a golden feather. She was right; it didn’t burn. All I felt was a slight tickle. I stared at the flame dancing on my hand and the next thing I knew I felt some sort of liquid being poured on my face. Bringing me back to the hell I had temporarily left.
“She’s back,” someone shouted.
“Stand her up, make her watch. Maybe this will help her make up her mind.
With blurry unfocused eyes that I think were permanently damaged by my previous torture, I saw them drag Dorian to the center of the circle. “No! Leave him alone … he doesn’t understand!” I pleaded, but this only seemed to encourage them.
Sure now, that torturing Dorian would make me comply with her impossible request, Agatha started. She chanted, then she rose her hands high above her head. She swayed them from side to side, she chanted louder, she made him drink something, but nothing seemed to make a difference. Dorian stood stock still with his shoulders back and his eyes wide open, looking imposing and regal.
My vision was poor, but I could discern something shiny and white surrounding him, like a cloud made out of pearls. I blinked and tried to focus, but nothing seemed to work, my sight was simply not working properly. Then a thought came to me, “those that are with us are more than they who are with them.”
Right then my blurry vision cleared and I saw four giant winged creatures. Their skin irradiated that same pearly whiteness that I had seen earlier in the thick fog. In their hands and between their legs, they held swords that looked like were on fire and they stood stock still as if made out of stone. They were immovable and stared straight ahead ignoring all the shadowy figures that tried to ram themselves against them. But, as suddenly as the vision had appeared, it started to fade. I squinted trying to keep them in focus for as long as possible and right before they vanished completely one of the creatures moved his eyes and winked at me. This gave me a strange sense of familiarity that left me feeling … hopeful.
“I’m not alone,” I thought, then looked down at my right hand, and between the fingers of my clenched fist, I could see the flame.
My eyes, that had temporarily seen so clearly, went blurry again. I tried not to let this get to me, I needed to focus on getting Dorian and I out of here one way or another. But Dorian seemed to be doing just fine on his own. Whatever they tried on him simply failed, and this enraged Agatha. Looking all around me I realized that they were all filled with rage and were in some way or other actively engaged in trying to harm Dorian—an innocent—someone who had never done anything to any of them.
Anger bubbled inside of me, indignation too, and a general disgust for what these people were. According to John, these people would speed up the course of evil in this world, and an untimely end. I didn’t fully understand the ramifications that this would have, but if he was worried, then it would likely not be a good thing.
Upset with the lack of progress, Eugenia brusquely pushed Agatha aside and tried something herself; of course this too failed. But this mutinous act was not taken lightly by Agatha who quickly put Eugenia back in her place, by a swing of her arm that didn’t physically touch Eugenia, yet sent her flying clear across the room. Eugenia’s back slammed hard against the opposite wall where the exit door was. This created some sort of uproar within the group members and they all started to murmur and complain that they needed to remember what they were there for.
I was seized by Marcel and brought forward as another man reached for Dorian, but as he tried to touch Dorian, he was shocked by what seemed to be an electric shock.
“How are you doing this?” Agatha asked as she swung around with fury.
“I’m not!” I responded clenching my fists.
“Don’t lie! I know you can speak with the dead! I know you speak with Alex and your grandmother; what else can you do?”
“They came to me, I didn’t call them; and I’m certainly not responsible for whatever is happening with Dorian!”
“Why would Alex come to you and Eros not come to me?”
“I—I don’t know! Agatha, don’t you see? We are being protected! You can kill me, but you’ll never get what you want.” I was surprised that as those words came out I felt no anger toward her, only pity, because she was sealing her own doom with her actions.
“Join me!” Agatha looked intense and determined. She truly thought that there might be a chance that I might cave. She couldn’t fathom why anyone would not want to exploit a gift such as mine and use it for gain. “Don’t you understand Tess! We could be the most powerful women alive! Why won’t you join me?” She stared at me uncomprehending.
“Why don’t you join me? I said instead. “You don’t have to listen to those voices. You can shut them out! I did!”
For a second she stared at me blankly, was she considering it? Then her demeanor changed. “I don’t think so. I like my voices, they get me places, and yours don’t. Now enough of this nonsense, this is your last chance to join me willingly. If you don’t—you leave me no recourse but to take your powers through your death.”
“Yeah!” Marcel and someone else shouted. Through blurry peripheral vision, I could see some sort of commotion toward the back of the room, where Eugenia had landed and the exit door was.
“This is your last chance!” I warned. “You can leave now and change, or we can all burn.”
Those that were by the locked door, stopped and looked at me for a moment. “What could she do?” They seemed to wonder and doubt started creeping in. The guy who had touched Dorian, was still on the ground and Eugenia seem to have a trickle of blood running down her forehead. There were low murmurs all around the room and Agatha quickly started shouting some gibberish hoping to regain command of the situation.
Marcel and another guy seized me and roughly threw me on the altar. Next thing I knew the collection of medieval daggers and knives were flying off the walls, heading straight for me. Dorian saw this and screaming, threw himself in the weapon’s path. One by one each dagger dropped to the ground the minute they touched his invisible force field.
“Now!” I felt the command inside of my head.
Sitting up I looked around for something that might catch on fire, and right away I saw it. Agatha’s huge wooden symbol that hung in back of her! I threw the flame that I held in my palm toward the symbol of the Source and it readily caught.
“Fire!” several people shouted at once.
“Open the door Agatha, or we’ll all burn alive!”
Agatha looked distracted and irritated. This was obviously not going along as planned. She took too long to move aside and her red robe caught on fire. Shrieks and screams and shouts were assailing my hearing. Dorian came to my side and hugged me tightly and I wasn’t shocked by his force field.
“The keys! The keys! Agatha hurry, give us the keys!” a woman urged, yet didn’t make any attempts at helping Agatha put the flames out of her robe.
“Let me try!” a muscular man shouted. He rammed himself against the door like a bull, but the door didn’t budge. The smoke was now getting to them and some were coughing, several of them turned again looking for Agatha who was desperately trying to get her hooded cloak off of her—no one helped her. They all stared in dumb amazement as their priestess tried to rid herself of the flames.
In desperation she rushed toward the door, sill aflame and her subjects moved out of her way like the waves did for Moses. She had the key in her hand and as she feebly tried to unlock it, the flames from her robe caught some wall hangings on fire. Now the
whole room was aflame and people didn’t know where to go to get away from it.
Dorian and I had stayed by the burning altar, no one seemed to care weather we lived or died, so they let us be. The fire didn’t seem to be interested in us, neither was the smoke. We were perfectly cradled by them like an all-encompassing blanket.
Eugenia who had regained consciousness was looking around and fixed her eyes on something that was on the floor. She picked it up and lunged herself forward, driving whatever she held deep into Agatha’s back.
The door finally opened and the throng of faithful followers trampled on their fallen stabbed leader to escape the flames. Amazingly, Agatha rose and turned with a wild look in her eyes. Eugenia twitched and charged forward once again. The two witches wrestled each other, Agatha with a dagger sticking out of her back.
The whole room was ablaze and had burned a hole through the ceiling. The whole house was now on fire, just like Dorian’s drawing, yet Agatha and Eugenia kept fighting and throwing each other against the flames until Eugenia’s hair caught on fire and she ran from the room screaming. Only then did Agatha look at us, her fancy dress had caught on fire and the flame was quickly ascending, but she didn’t seem to notice.
Picking up the single candelabrum that remained standing, Agatha walked with determination toward us and purposely tilted it in our direction. “Let this be a sacrifice to the Source!” she said acidly. But the pillar candles that were held there flew in the opposite direction as if they had bounced off a trampoline. This took the burning and bleeding Agatha back, but didn’t deter her from her ultimate goal.
“I’ll see you in hell!” she shouted, then collapsed to the floor.
Dorian and I took this as our cue to leave the burning building, which was literally falling to pieces. It was like clearing an obstacle course; beams and furniture were all falling all around us. Once we reached the top of the stairs, I saw that part of the second story was about to cave in. Instinctively I pushed Dorian forward, but it was too late for me; the upper story came down and all went black.