by Devon Ashley
“No, I don’t want that!” he yelled back.
Abby slammed the kitchen door behind her. She stumbled her way to the liquor cabinet in the pantry. She rummaged through it, tossing every bottle in the way until she found what she was looking for. The floor was littered with broken glass and a headache-inducing stench.
From the kitchen, a male voice yelled at her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
She stepped out of the pantry with a bottle of whiskey dangling from her hand. Lincoln immediately regretted yelling before knowing his opposition. Abby stared coldly as she slowly stepped towards him. As expected, he bolted from the room. With the wave of her hand, the wind rushed the kitchen door shut again. The burn within growled and her eyes fluttered a shade of darkest black.
That was odd. Never had that happened when she used her mother’s powers before.
Abby sat down at the old wooden table and swigged a quarter of the bottle down. As the alcohol rushed to her head, she slumped further down the chair and burrowed her head deep into the table. Her thoughts were rushing; she felt dizzy.
Valerie said she saw Abby’s lifeless body on the ground. Could it be Morphus has learned my true identity and knows how to kill me? Her vampirism had been her ace in the hole. Very few knew the secret of how to kill her – not even Emily. She too, thought a stake through the heart would kill her. Though the method was sufficient for the mutated vampire, it wasn’t for the pure. The only way to kill a vampire like herself was to introduce the lipid phosphatidylserine into the bloodstream. The lipid would attach to the cell and mark it to be eaten by the phagocytes. It would take an immediate and continuous blood supply to live through it, depending on the number of lipids introduced. So long as the vampire could supply fresh cells during the massacre, it may live through it. However, it’s doubtful the vampire would start the process quick enough to keep up. Had Valerie truly seen Abby dead on the floor with a stake through the heart, it must have been laced with the lipid.
The amulet around her neck suddenly warmed her skin. Abby raised her head with curiosity when her eyes began to glow.
The bright sensation blinded her, blurred everything. She saw nothing but a warm, yellowish glow. The center of her vision tightened into focus. A hand reached out and pulled on Great Expectations in the bookcase. The door opened. Her vision blurred bright again. Five seconds passed before it tightened once more. A four by ten portrait of man standing in a field, leaning on a long sword, centuries old. The brightness went in and out again. Her head was aching, her eyes straining. The viewer rushed a male from behind. Before he could turn around, the viewer struck him down with a wooden pole.
Abby’s eyes and amulet returned to normal. Her eyes couldn’t focus because the bright glow left spots in her vision. She cupped her hands and suffocated them with darkness, waiting for the dancing spots to fade.
The black and white visions were like multiple snapshots being flipped together quickly to show slow-motion movement. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or her inability to receive the messages clearly.
She opened her eyes once the spots finally dissipated. Her vision was slightly blurred but sharpened with each passing second. She looked to the bottle of whiskey and an unsettling feeling of regret filled her. The two minute vision had ruined the haze the alcohol had given her. She abandoned the bottle and left the kitchen, her path set on the basement.
She reached out and pulled on Great Expectations. The basement and stairs were the uttermost black. She’d never noticed a light switch before. And then it hit her – the room had no electricity. Knowing Valerie had to have something to light, she bent down and felt for anything loose on the floor. She found it by the hinged corner of the swing bookcase: an old-fashioned oil lantern.
She felt her pockets for a lighter but knew she wouldn’t find one. It would take ten minutes to go back to the bedroom, longer if Noel was still there. She sighed deeply and turned to her right hand. Within seconds, it became fire-red and she lit the lantern. Surprisingly, the burn didn’t react to it. Maybe Noel was on to something after all. Perhaps the entity did only feed when she used her powers for negative purposes.
Once at the bottom of the stairs, she scanned the portraits that covered the four walls. None matched the one from her vision. She stood in the center of the basement and circled again. There was only one dark corner she couldn’t completely see. It was past the bottom of the stairs and past the door to her old room. Only four feet of space was between the bedroom door and the wall. She had always assumed it was a normal corner, unoccupied due to darkness and lack of space.
As she approached, the lantern lit up the missing portrait from her vision, and it was large enough to cover something up. Abby investigated, felt all around the wooden frame. Her fingers found a latch on the right side of the wood. With a click the portrait squeaked and swung open, revealing a dark and hidden closet.
She leaned the lantern in and quickly noticed a body wrapped in plastic on the floor. It had been wrapped well, considering the amount of decomposition she could see contained through the many layers. A sour smell formed a halo around the body but it was minimal. Rotten though it was, Abby still recognized the familiar face within the plastic. One that matched an exact replica currently present in the manor.
She closed her eyes, overcome with a very sudden, very obvious revelation. How could I have been so blind?
Valerie hadn’t lied to her about her problematic vision after all. She was certain Valerie had searched for Abby in the rain that night, just as she had done in her vision. Her subconscious, her gift, had been trying to warn her all along, trying desperately over and over again to get her to see. She’d been so fixated on what she was trying to tell Abby that it never occurred to her that the vision was actually about her. Valerie’s vision showed her what it always did – a hunter on the verge of death.
What Valerie was planning to tell her that night, Abby was certain she just learned from this hidden closet. According to the decomposed body before her, Morphus had infiltrated their organization months ago, long before Abby or any of the other hunters had returned to the school. Unfortunately for Valerie, she didn’t tell Abby that rainy night. She told the one person whom she was warning against.
Abby stormed her way up the stairs and through the complex maze of hallways. Her head was clear now, focused.
She stammered when Noel appeared down the hall from her. He was surprised to see her standing erect. Dryly, he said, “Wow. What got you up and going? Thought for sure you’d be at the bottom of another bottle by now.”
Oh, God… She wasn’t planning on this. Her body was overcome with a sudden achiness, a longing she may never again be able to feel. She stormed towards him, wrapped herself around him and kissed him passionately. At first he was tense, stunned by her aggressive nature. But soon his arms went eagerly around her waist without question. She placed her hands around his neck and twisted his hair in her fingers.
She was in trouble. His kiss was pulling her into a deep trance-like state. She was succumbing to the temptation, to the fear that this was their last moment together. She didn’t want to give it up, to willingly cut their time together short by three weeks.
The hungry sensation rising within hindered her and screamed at her to not end this precious moment. But another part lurked about the mental haze. It was rational and put Abby back on track for the task at hand. Her chest released a disapproving moan as the needle in the ring on her finger was activated. Her hand stiffened and tried to prevent her from piercing the backside of his neck.
His withdrawal from her lips was immediate, but it wasn’t from the potion. He knew what she had done. His embrace weakened and he stepped away from her grasp. There was never one point in her life that deserved the look he was giving her now, not even after the horrible things she did when she was evil. It was a look of betrayal. Something never present in their relationship, not once. Sharp pains stabbed her chest as he felt the back of
his neck; the tiniest drop of blood appeared on his fingertip.
“What have you done?”
“I don’t know.” Her hands cupped her nose and mouth. What had she done? And how long would it take the potion to affect his body? With humans, the potion acted immediately, within seconds. But pure vampires had no heartbeat to push the potion through the system faster.
“Abby?” His tone roughened. He whizzed to her at the speed of light and yanked her hand from her face, examining the ring closely. The needle was still extended. “How old is the potion?”
She couldn’t think. Her mind was woozy from the multitude of emotions plaguing her at that very moment. Her jaw twitched up and down but her brain offered nothing to voice.
“Abby!” His hands were on her shoulders, squeezing her powerfully, as if he were trying to ground her and snap her back to cognitive thought. As she looked to his face she could see it – the first signs that the potion was working. His eyes became heavy and his grasp lightened. He tried to shake the dizziness away, but it only worked momentarily.
“I’m sorry,” she choked. Tears began to descend her cheeks. “I have to do this alone.”
He was breathing now – large, deep breaths. His body wobbled and she threw herself around him. Together they slumped to the floor. She cradled his head to her chest.
Barely a whisper, Noel hoarsely said, “Don’t.”
She knew he wouldn’t understand her decision to strike three weeks early. She couldn’t in good conscience sit by and allow Morphus the opportunity to take more of them out. If there was any chance she could protect Emily and her friends, even Noel, by initiating the fight, she would, even if it meant she sacrificed herself as so many had foreseen.
Abby removed the ring from her finger, reset it and placed it in the pocket of his pants. They softly stared at one another as she stroked his cheek with her hand. He forced out a pathetic grunt.
“I know. I love you too. Always.”
Just as his warm brown eyes succumbed to the tranquilizer, Abby gently kissed his forehead. In his ear she whispered, “See you on the other side.” She wiped away the tears, ripped the wooden pole from the wall above him and continued on. She was afraid to look back. If she did, she’d see him propped awkwardly against the wall, completely vulnerable for however long the potion would last. Would she be able to move forward with her plan? Or would she run back to the safety of his strong arms? She had no idea which would happen in this moment. Part of her wanted desperately to remain behind, yet another part was eager to shove this pole down Morphus’ throat.
She didn’t risk looking. She turned the corner with her eyes closed tight.
In the arena, the hunters and advisors were cramped to the far side, avoiding the damaged areas. One by one, their attentions were drawn to Abby as she crossed the room, wooden pole spinning, her eyes set on the back of a man. Advisors fearfully backed away, their mouths open in awe, but soundless nonetheless. Hunters stopped and stared, confused by the look of enmity on her face.
“Abby?” Darby asked quietly, somewhat frightened.
Abby smacked the man hard across the back and neck. He collapsed and fell to the floor. Abby stood back and waited, glaring. Jayden rose and returned the glare, not at all surprised by her action. The advisors were stunned in silence. The huntresses tried to contain their smiles, but they too were astonished as Abby and Jayden’s bodies disintegrated. All that remained was the pole, bouncing up and down on the floor, shaking the individuals left with each echo.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Abby, what the hell have you done?
The arena was filled with unrelenting panic. Emily watched from the safety of the balcony as Abby struck Jayden and disappeared. She ran down the stairs, jumping three at a time. Many tried to pester her with questions about Abby and Jayden, trying desperately to absorb what just happened.
“What the hell happened to them? They just disappeared into thin air!” cried Anita.
“Who is she and what is she really doing here? And don’t say she’s a hunter cause she’s nothing like us!” exclaimed Christoph.
Emily wasn’t really paying attention. Her focus was on the Chancellor, who was being rushed in by Susan. Emily waved off those hassling her, grabbed Mira by the arm and dragged her just within hearing range of where the Chancellor and Lincoln were meeting.
“What?” cried Mira.
Emily shushed her and pulled her in closer, as if they were whispering to one another.
“What the hell happened?” asked the Chancellor.
“Abigail was our missing ordained huntress. She just performed a disappearing act that would shame Houdini,” he said quietly, still shaken.
“What?!” exclaimed the Chancellor, astonished. “How could we not know this before now?”
“There’s more,” he said with a hint of embarrassment. “It would seem Morphus penetrated our operations a while back. He just disappeared with her.” Lincoln flinched. He looked as if he had been expecting a physical reaction.
Quite contradictory, the information seemed to drain the Chancellor of all emotion. “Who?” he asked calmly, firmly.
“Jayden. The moment she attacked him they disappeared.”
“The fail-safe plan. Should one attack the other with intention to harm, they would be transported immediately to the next dimension.” He said it more for himself than Lincoln. “Did she actually know it was Morphus or was she finally fed up with Jayden?”
“I believe she knew. But I’m not going to pretend Jayden didn’t intentionally try to provoke her over the past two months.”
The Chancellor nodded in agreement.
Lincoln looked uncomfortably around the arena. Emily turned away just in time. “What if she doesn’t come back? There is no containment spell.”
“We must hope for the best but play the odds she won’t return. Arm every hunter, advisor and child. Should he win…,” he trailed off, “well, let’s just hope Abigail wears him down for us.”
With that, Emily left Mira without saying a word and went in search for Noel.
“Emily! Where are you going? You can’t leave now!”
Noel wasn’t in any of his usual spots: his bedroom, the library or the kitchen. The morning’s storms had given way to daylight, so he wasn’t outside. After five minutes of running frantically through the hallways, she found him sprawled out on the floor.
“Noel?” she asked, concerned and confused over why he was knocked out in the middle of nowhere.
His eyelids limped heavily. He tried to open them but they kept slamming shut. Groggy, he slurred, “Abee…dunt ley er go.” Had she not just witnessed the magic show for herself, she never would have understood him.
“It’s too late. She’s gone. Come on, we’ve gotta get ready.” She lifted his dead-weight body off the floor with ease.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Her body slowly materialized on the cold, stone floor. Torches magically sparked and lit the ancient room. Abby rose and scanned her surroundings. The ancient chamber room had no doorways, no visual exits anywhere.
Familiar hieroglyphics were chiseled into the stone walls. Words of comfort from her former self, trying to prepare her for what was about to come. It summarized what she had already learned from the journal, as if her previous self feared Abby would be transferred here without knowing why, without being properly prepared – her contingency plan. No other being could enter or leave this room. It allowed her the time she would need to prepare herself emotionally and physically for the task at hand.
Across the room, a stone table was covered with clay pots of herbs and miscellaneous ingredients, all long decayed and powdered. Off to the side was a rotting book two inches thick. As she approached, it opened and flipped a few pages. It stopped on the page that depicted her birthmark, the illusionistic symbol of the ordained huntress.
In the farthest corner of the room was a statue of Athena. Her attire was that of a warrior. Her left hand held a sword, h
er right held up in the ‘stop’ position. Before Abby could get close enough to examine it, the quartz amulet around her neck began to warm and her eyes began to glow. A bright blur came and went.
An explosion threw Abby through the air. Her body hit the floor hard. Blur out and in again…Lying down, a wooden stake is pierced through Abby’s heart. Her head rolled to the side and blood seeped from her mouth. Her eyes were opened wide and lifeless. Then, her body disintegrated into thin air. Blur out. The warmth of the necklace and the glow in her eyes diminished once again.
Abby put one hand on her chest and the other over her eyes. It took a few minutes for the blinding stars to burn out. Looking to the statue, she annoyingly said, “I hope that’s not your idea of a pep talk.”
There was something odd about the statue. The hand of Athena had actual lines, crisp and scratchy – and familiar. Abby placed her hand side-by-side with Athena’s. The palm reading was identical. Were they the same lines as her previous self? Certainly, she wasn’t given lines that matched Athena’s.
Abby returned to the stone table and flipped through the book. Most of the pages were dedicated to potions. The book flipped on its own again and stopped at another spell. It turned out the spell had already been completed and placed within tied sachets in the bowl next to her. The infamous containment spell. After all her pleading, her previous self had not only left Abby the spell, but premade it in case she was unable to succeed.
Abby held the sachet in her hand. If it didn’t go her way, would she really want the temptation to save her life and contain Morphus, instead of fighting it out until the bitter end?
The muslin used to bind the ingredients so long ago had thinned but held together. Through the crosshatch spaces she could see fossilized stars of anise. The other ingredients had crumbled with time.
She sighed heavily. Forgive me, Noel. Abby emptied the sachet, inserted new random ingredients from the clay pots and carefully tied the sachet again. She tucked it into her pant pocket and patted it down.