The Descendants

by Kirk Kilgrave

  He guided them into the kitchen, where each of them took a seat. He and Eloise took the same seats they’d sat in during their first attempt at contacting Abner, while Jocelyn sat across from him and the holy man sat to his right.

  Eloise lit the candles again.

  Father Demetrius encircled each candle with salt from the white pouch. He looked up at Logan. “To protect us.” He placed the little bag in front of him to his left and placed the bottle of liquid to the right.

  Logan looked at the granules. “Is that salt? How will that protect us?”

  “Belief,” said Father Demetrius.

  Logan thought the guy was nuts. “How can salt protect us?” He wanted to ask if this was a joke, but the earnest expressions around the table told him everyone already accepted that an ingredient for food could keep people safe from the supernatural.

  “Salt purifies the unclean,” said Father Demetrius.

  Now that the others had joined him, Logan felt out of his element. At first, he felt uncomfortable with that, but after a few seconds, he realized their knowledge would benefit their mission. It relaxed the pressure in his shoulder blades. He pointed to the jar. “Holy water?”

  The priest gave a curt nod.

  “Along with these,” Jocelyn said, sliding a purple crystal across the table in front of each person. “Amethyst stones are often used to protect us from harmful elements.”

  Eloise placed a plain white piece of paper on the table. She withdrew a red marker, drew a reversed pentagram on the page, and placed it in the middle of the candles.

  Logan didn’t know anything about demonic forces, but he’d seen that five-cornered star symbol many times throughout his life and knew it symbolized sinister forces. Seeing it now, knowing they needed it to call upon evil, he shivered.

  Father Demetrius slid a finger along the top of the Bible and stopped at a bookmark before opening it to that page.

  Eloise made eye contact with Logan. “I’ve already explained how a séance works with Jocelyn and Father Demetrius.” She looked their way. “Is everyone ready?”

  They nodded.

  Logan did so as well. He’d never before wanted to get something over with so badly in his life. He scanned the page of questions he’d written. He’d even numbered them, so he could ask them in a specific order.

  Eloise held out her hands.

  Logan took hers and Father Demetrius’s as well. Both were firm and dry. This time, however, his palm was a little moist. Neither of them acknowledged that. “Sorry, guys. I’m a little nervous. And my stomach feels like it just discovered I ate five candy bars in a row on an empty stomach.”

  “It’s okay,” Eloise said in a matter-of-fact tone. She had flattened her expression to give away no emotion. “Try to relax. We’ll handle things.”

  He nodded. “Okay.” But his breath came quick, his head pounded, and sweat had broken out on his brow. It felt odd to think that he was going to help them break his great-grandfather out of Hell. He pushed that thought from his mind and focused on taking things one moment at a time, instead of thinking about what might happen.

  At that moment, Eloise tightened her grasp of his hand.

  Logan looked her way. He’d been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he forgot that she could feel his anxiety.

  “It’s all right.” She smiled. “We’ve got this.”

  “All right.” He turned to Eloise. “I’m ready.”

  25

  Eloise closed her eyes. “Abner Pryce, your great-grandson, Logan Pryce, invites you from Satan’s stronghold to visit us in this realm. Only you are welcome to join us. No one else may cross into this dimension. If they attempt to do so, we will sever all communication and banish them to which they came. Abner, please join us.”

  Logan looked from Jocelyn, who sat upright but scanned the environment for any disruption, to Father Demetrius, whose gaze peered over the top of his Bible at the candles. Those dark eyes widened.

  The flames wavered, strengthened, and flickered.

  At that same moment, Logan felt a slight breeze pass across the table. His heart thumped wildly, and his breath nearly died in his throat. The temperature dipped at least five degrees, and the flesh at the nape of his neck pebbled. The air felt constricted in a way that made him feel claustrophobic, even though he obviously wasn’t confined to a small area.

  Eloise opened her eyes. “Thank you for joining us, Abner.” She locked her gaze on Jocelyn, who nodded calmly. Eloise turned to Logan. “Your great-grandfather is standing right behind you.”

  Logan’s shoulders immediately clenched. He took in a slow, measured breath. Knowing a murderous ghost that will spend eternity in Hell now stood behind him, Logan’s muscles clenched, making him stiffen. “What’s he doing?”

  “He’s looking down at you. He’s in his early thirties. He’s wearing a dusty, rumpled black bowler hat without trim above green eyes and thick brown sideburns that meet his mustache, although he has no beard. He’s wearing a white linen shirt open a few buttons at the neck, wrinkled brown trousers a size too large for him, and a pair of scuffed brown loafers.”

  Logan was so frightened that he didn’t know what to do. Any potential thought faded from his mind, leaving it blank. He stared at Eloise, seeking direction.

  She bestowed him with a patient smile. “Please ask your questions.”

  Logan felt eyes on the back of his head, passing over his frame. It felt like someone had violated his space. Ordinarily, if he locked eyes with a stranger, within moments they would look away, but not this time. He could feel them probing, judging. He felt Eloise’s grip tighten, drawing his attention.

  “The page in front of you,” she said. “Please ask your questions.”

  Logan wasn’t put off by her emotionless response. By doing so, she was all but telling him to handle this like an impersonal business transaction. And that’s the way he decided to see it. He didn’t want to be here, but he had a job to do, and he needed to do it whether he liked it or not.

  He set his gaze on the sheet. “My name is Logan Pryce,” his tone quivered a little, but feeling Eloise’s grip strengthen, he got it under control. “My father, and your grandson, wrote me a letter stating that a woman named Lucretia—”

  A gust of wind lashed against the back of Logan’s right cheek. He sat upright, eyes wide, and shut his mouth. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Eloise looking at a spot above his head.

  “What was that?” asked Logan.

  “Your great-grandfather tried to slap you in the face.”

  “What for?” Indignation rose in Logan’s chest, and he struggled to restrain his emotions. Then he recalled that his great-grandfather had been in Hell for a century. Living in the most horrendous place in all of existence must have rubbed off on him in the worst way imaginable. That realization put things into perspective for him and calmed him a little.

  “Abner,” Eloise said with a stern expression and an even more strict tone, “we’ve welcomed you here to learn what we can about Lucretia. I realize hearing her name elicits strong emotions in you, but according to your grandson, after you killed her three brothers, she cursed your family line. If you care about those who lived on through you, I recommend you control yourself and listen to Logan. If not, I’ll return you to Hell. The choice is yours.”

  Logan’s admiration for Eloise grew more in that instant than ever before. She basically gave one of Satan’s souls a smack-down. That she maintained her authority while speaking to Abner in such a firm manner had a side effect: Logan grew more confident. While Eloise had the power to send Abner back to Hell, Logan also needed to retain a certain amount of oversight over his great-grandfather. Otherwise, Abner might not respect him, which could impact his answers and whether he planned to respond.

  “I bet,” he told Abner, “that whatever happens here isn’t as tragic as what you’ve dealt with for the past hundred years. Being here is probably like a vacation, isn’t it?” He paused for effect. “So, i
f you want to take advantage of your time here, you’ll answer my questions without getting out of line.” He looked to Eloise for confirmation that his great-grandfather would agree to those conditions.

  Eloise’s gaze was still fixed on Abner. “He understands and appears more compliant.”

  Now that he’d won that small victory, Logan rolled his shoulders. “Are you aware of this curse?”

  “He’s nodding,” Eloise said.

  “Other than what Eloise already mentioned, are you aware of any other ways to end this spell?”

  “He’s shaking his head.”

  Logan hadn’t anticipated that answer. He’d expected to get some good news, probably because he needed it and didn’t know how to proceed without it. He hated sitting at the table with Abner standing behind him. He wanted to confront this bastard, admonish him for his rash hostility and murderous ways. But they needed to keep the circle intact, which meant he couldn’t get up and turn around to even try to see Abner.

  “I just turned nineteen,” he told Abner, hoping that telling personal details might encourage the spirit to communicate more freely. But he hadn’t invited Abner to visit just to answer his question. “I’ve triggered the curse. From what I’ve been able to find out, this hex was set in place because of you. What can you tell me about that?”

  Eloise looked over Logan’s head. “He covered his face with his hands. He’s shaking his head.”

  “Is it true,” Logan said, “that you saw Lucretia kissing another man, so you killed her three brothers?”

  “It was self-defense,” Eloise stated. “They tried to kill him.”

  Logan didn’t like speaking through an intermediary, but he had no other choice but to continue conducting this interview as is. “Why?”

  “They thought he raped Lucretia.”

  “Did you?”

  “No. He loved her.”

  With Abner at his back, Logan took advantage of the fact that his great-grandfather couldn’t see his face. He mouthed the words to Eloise: do you believe him?

  Eloise stared at the man over Logan’s shoulder for some time. Without moving her head, she slid her eyes from left to right.

  Logan took that to mean that she didn’t believe Abner. The chill behind him grew colder, and while it put a fright in him, he took some solace from the fact that Eloise could send him back to Hell whenever she chose. He’d expected Abner to be glad to leave Hell and return to Earth, which made him think that his great-grandfather would have been more conciliatory.

  “He’s talking rapidly,” Eloise said, “so I’m just going to repeat everything he says from here on out:

  “My story begins in July 1919, a year after The Great War ended. American soldiers had returned home, and they ended up with many of the jobs that older men and females had taken in their absence. I was a poor Irishman, one generation removed from my ancestors who immigrated to New Orleans before my father moved us to Chicago. I admit to lacking intelligence, but I took pride in my cleverness, which aided me in creating scams to swindle others out of money in a variety of ways.

  “Lucretia was a short, light-skinned black woman with thick curly hair. She had been homeschooled by her mother and was equally brilliant with numbers and diction. How could such a spectacular mind fall into the head of a poor black woman when she had no opportunity to put it to use? A travesty such as this can never be explained nor understood. Needless to say, I was devoted to her. Before her, a more sublime woman had never walked the earth. The scent of her skin. The taste of her lips. Her eyes shined with every smile, and when she bestowed that gift upon me, I could actually feel her happiness. I wanted nothing more than to make her smile every day of my life. Make no mistake, she could cut my heart with one cruel stare, and she did just that on more than one occasion.

  “Earlier that year, an eleven-year-old decided to hop into his father’s car, but he lost control and mowed down Lucretia’s parents on a sidewalk downtown, pinning them against a brick wall and killing them instantly. Lucretia had no inheritance, and she and her three older brothers were indebted to creditors with bills her parents had tallied over the previous three decades. With her parents gone, Lucretia became a homemaker for her brothers.

  “And while Lucretia fell into despair, her brothers, all of whom were in their early to mid-twenties, were obliged to meet their monthly rent as well as other expenditures they had not been required to fulfill until their parents died.

  “It was an incredibly difficult endeavor. With the help of their old man, they barely managed to scrape by, but with his passing, the stress proved too much for them. They turned to drink and took out their anger by throwing a torrent of physical and verbal abuse on my Lucretia, who I had begun seeing in her brothers’ absence. I’m convinced that our secret meetings had helped repair some of the sorrow in her heart, for her mood lifted after each rendezvous.

  “It must be said, I did not see her often, but when it comes to matters of the heart, a smart man doesn’t seek guidance from his head, but his heart. So while I had only called upon her perhaps four or five times, I knew we were destined for a lifetime together. Now, she may have resisted that fate, due to her age and inexperience, but as I stated, a smart person trusts the heart, not outside disruptions such as race and familial obligations when those members mistreat you. Indeed, each time I looked into Lucretia’s dark eyes, she silently declared that our lives were intertwined.

  “I visited her home to speak with her oldest brother and the head of their household, Clyde, to ask for Lucretia’s hand in marriage. Mind you, I had no illusions that Clyde would grant me permission to marry his sister, the one his household relied on to cook, clean, and care for them. But an honorable man who seeks to do right by those he loves and swears to protect will do anything to secure the affections of the woman who has stolen his heart.

  “As expected, Clyde denied me. Even worse, he socked me in the jaw and kicked me off the porch. Then he shut the door on me. I strolled the city for hours, searching for answers to my dilemma, only to return to Lucretia’s place of residence. Before approaching their door, I recognized Clyde in the window kissing my love, and his own sister.

  “As you can imagine, I was stunned, repulsed, and filled with rage. I pounded on the front door, demanding that Clyde open it. When he did, I noticed the scent of liquor lingering in the air. Based on Clyde’s somewhat dazed expression, I assumed he’d been drinking that evening. I threw my shoulder into his stomach, but Clyde was a tall, muscular man from working physical labor every day. He moved back a few steps, but he didn’t falter. He grabbed my hair, drew me upright, and punched me in the cheek.

  “Within moments, his two brothers burst through the door. I should have presumed that all three brothers were in attendance, but as you can imagine, I was not in my right mind. I was concerned for my love, who I now suspected endured sexual abuse from at least one brother. All three pulled me into their home, shouting obscenities and kicking me countless times in the face, ears, ribs, and stomach. Afterward, they took my wallet, threw me out of their home, and promised that if I returned, they would kill me.

  “It took me quite some time to recover, but within a week, I arranged another clandestine meeting with Lucretia. She insisted that Clyde hadn’t kissed her, but she appeared frightened and wary like she no longer trusted me. I can only imagine her brothers threatened to punish her if she attempted to meet me again. I feared that I might never lay eyes upon her, so a couple of days later, I visited her house but went around to the back of her home and knocked on her window. When she opened it, I professed my love and proposed. But this admission and proposal drew tears, not of joy, but of pain. She fled. A few hours later, a race riot between the whites and the blacks stormed the city, and I barely made it home safely.’”

  Logan was riveted by the tale. Not hearing Eloise continue speaking, he looked to her, seeking the rest of the story.

  Eloise licked her lips. “He won’t continue the story.”

 
“Why?” he asked.

  “He refuses to answer.” She let out a pent up breath and appeared distant. “He appears unmoved by the story he told.”

  Logan was annoyed by the man’s obstinacy, but he was unwilling to let that feeling morph into anger, so he concentrated on his list of questions. His great-grandfather had answered each one except the one he really needed: other than committing suicide, was there another way to break the curse?

  Then Logan heard what Eloise was showing and telling him. She’d appeared aloof and stated that Abner was “unmoved by the story.” But how could someone who’d apparently loved her appear so remote, especially after leaving Hell? Wouldn’t he be eager to be out of Satan’s abyss? It didn’t add up.

  Logan continued to read Eloise’s face, but her expression hadn’t changed. By reading between the lines, Logan took it to mean that Eloise was basically saying that she didn’t believe his story. And based on what he’d heard so far, other than Abner admitting that he was a thief, the rest of the story made him appear like a saint, the great white savior who’d come to help the poor black woman who had endured unknown atrocities by her brothers. It seemed phony.

  “He won’t continue with the story,” Eloise said, “until he speaks with Lucretia.”

  “But she’s dead.”

  “That’s true,” she said, “but she’s also haunting you.”

  “Yeah, but we haven’t seen her in a while. We can’t just force her to visit, can we?”

  Eloise’s eyebrows drew together as she stared at a spot above Logan’s head before setting her gaze on his. “Abner says she killed herself in order to haunt him. She was buried in the Williamsburg Cemetery. He recommends that we burn her bones.”

  Logan had driven by that graveyard every day on his way to work. It wasn’t far from his home. “What will that accomplish?”

  Eloise continued to speak for Abner: “He believes it will break the curse…and force Lucretia to come here.”