The Crockworthy Sisters Box Set - Parts 1-3

by Marcus Brown

  People were eager to read about the gruesome events taking place in northern England and he was confident it had sold by the bucket load.

  He limped into the vast boardroom and surveyed his surroundings.

  He wanted to chair this particular meeting and inspire his staff. They needed to be as pro-active as possible and find out anything and everything they could. And by whatever means necessary.

  His mole hadn’t been in contact with him for two days now, and all other avenues he’d tried had closed their doors on him.

  Tony was aware his paper had the scoop and, as he saw it, didn’t want to lose it to another less prestigious publication.

  He watched as his staff entered the room and sat around the highly polished oblong boardroom table and began to chat amongst themselves.

  This lack of respect wouldn’t have been tolerated under Rachel Lang’s rule – she’d have marched them out of the room by the scruff of their necks.

  Reluctantly admitting it to himself, he missed Rachel and would welcome her back with open arms.

  She kept her staff in check, commanded respect, and received it in bucket loads.

  This useless lot needed an Editor who would think nothing of firing them on the spot and Alfie Johnston wasn’t the man to do it.

  He’d been seconded from a local newspaper in Birmingham upon the recommendation of the board, but was entirely unsuitable for such a high-powered position.

  Tony had gone with the decision, floored by the disappearance of Rachel. It was a decision he’d come to regret, and one he’d soon rectify, once the meeting was over with.

  He made a mental note to fire him after the meeting.

  Fed up of waiting for the room to quiet down, Tony banged his cane on the floor, calling the room to order.

  “Right, you lot. Sit down and shut your mouths. I have things to say.”

  The room fell deathly silent and all eyes focused on him.

  “What can we do for you, Tony?” Alfie asked.

  “You can get off your sorry behinds and get me the full story, that’s what. I want. Autopsy reports, statements, eye witnesses, the works, and if I don’t get what I want, I’ve no hesitation in handing each and every one of you.” He looked around the room and focused on Alfie, “your marching orders.”

  He watched as his words impacted the room.

  “As a team, we’ve been doing our best, Tony,” Alfie said.

  “There’s no ‘I’ in team, Alfie. This game isn’t about teamwork, it’s about using your own contacts with your initiative to get the story, by whatever means necessary. Got it?” He glared at the attendees.

  “Yes,” they mumbled collectively.

  “Good, now get gone, and first one to bring me something worthwhile gets a pay rise, kiddies.” He waved them out of the room, but stopped Alfie as he got to his feet. “Alfie, before you go, I need a minute of your time.”

  Chapter One

  Tabitha hurriedly descended the stone steps. She had to consult with the book.

  Stopping abruptly, the breath left her body as she spied the left and right-hand doors along the corridor wide open.

  “Oh, no?” she said, out loud.

  She wondered if the killer had somehow managed to find his way down to the basement and began to panic.

  What if she’s escaped? Tabitha thought to herself, terrified at the prospect.

  “Book,” she said, praying silently to the Goddess it was still there.

  Tabitha charged down the corridor and with a wiggle of her index finger the two doors to the left and right of her slammed shut.

  She rushed past and shoved open the door at the end of the corridor, heaving a sigh of relief upon seeing the book sat on its plinth, safe and sound.

  “Blessed be,” she said, stepping over the circle of candles and waving her hands. The candles flickered to life.

  “Book,” she said, stroking the front cover gently. “I need you now, more than ever. Please, show me where my sisters are.”

  The book came to life as prompted, the pages turning wildly until they came to a total stop.

  The book showed her a picture of her mother, Abigail Crockworthy.

  “Book, I don’t understand. Why are you showing me a picture of my mother?”

  As though it had answered her, it settled on a blank page. She picked up the pot of ink and dropped it onto the page. The large red blotch added a splash of colour to the cream coloured vellum.

  Tabitha willed the book to give her the answers she desperately sought.

  Suddenly, the ink began to disperse, forming words across the page of the book.

  Moments later, the words became clear.

  Abigail Crockworthy has the answers you seek.

  You must go to her.

  The words faded and the ink pooled again.

  “I can’t go to her. She won’t help me.”

  The book showed her its answer.

  The Crockworthy three paid the price for meddling in what had already come to pass.

  But, fear not, there is still a part of Abigail Crockworthy that remains.

  Go to her before it’s too late.

  The words faded once again.

  “We swore we’d only ask for her help when all hope was lost.”

  The red ink began to form words once again.

  That time is now, Tabitha.

  There is no other way to save your sisters.

  The book slammed shut.

  “Damn you,” she screamed in rage.

  Tabitha snatched the leather-bound book from the plinth and in temper threw it across the room.

  She watched as it hit the wall, but knew no damage would befall it.

  Seconds later, it flew back to its place on the rowan wood plinth.

  Tabitha stormed out of the room and up the dimly lit corridor, stopping at the door, now on her right. She gripped the door frame, wrestling with her decision. Should she listen to the book, or find another way?

  Deciding she had no other choice, she turned the knob slowly and pushed the door open.

  There wasn’t one part of her that wanted to cross the threshold and speak to her mother, but if the book was right, and it was the only way to save her sisters, she would swallow her pride and do it.

  Chapter Two

  Tabitha pushed the creaking door open and squinted into the darkness.

  Somewhere within, her once beloved mother, Abigail Crockworthy, silently watched and waited.

  It had been seventy-two years since she and her sisters had last stepped foot in that room, but the memories of that long-ago night were still fresh in her mind.

  Together, the sisters made their pact -- only when all seemed lost would they seek their mother’s help.

  Tabitha took herself back to that long ago night.

  *

  Moonlight Manor

  Tuesday 10th June 1941.

  9:30pm

  The sisters watched through the sitting room window as a car drove slowly up the long driveway.

  They weren’t used to visitors, especially at that time of night.

  “Who can it be, at this hour?” Tamara asked, looking and sounding worried.

  “I don’t know, but it can’t be good,” Talia replied.

  “Come on, let’s get out of the window. We don’t want to be seen until we know who it is,” Tabitha ordered, ushering them away.

  Abigail sat in the gilded chair, seemingly unfazed by the unfolding events.

  “You don’t seem overly concerned, Mother.” Tamara looked at her suspiciously.

  “Why should I concern myself with the human world?” Abigail snapped.

  “Because it is the world you now live in,” Tabitha reminded her.

  “It matters not. Once Herr Hitler has won the war, the world as we know it will cease to exist. He will usher in a new age where our kind no longer has to hide in the shadows.”

  “You speak of him with such reverence,” Tamara said. “Why is that?”

 
; “Don’t question me,” Abigail replied.

  “What have you done, Mother?” Talia asked.

  “I won’t be interrogated by my own children.” Abigail looked furious.

  “You were on the telephone when I came downstairs earlier,” Tamara remembered. “Who were you speaking with?”

  Tabitha rushed back to the window and gasped. “We’re surrounded -- downstairs, now.”

  She held her hand out to Tamara whilst Talia rushed over to her mother and gripped her arm.

  In a flash they were gone, reappearing seconds later in the secret room in the bowels of the manor.

  Abigail’s eyes shone like diamonds. “My darling book,” she whispered as she approached it.

  The book flew from its plinth and into Tabitha’s hands.

  “It no longer belongs to you, Mother,” Tabitha said.

  “The book should be mine and still would be had I not given my life to save the three of you.” Abigail stepped closer to Tabitha. “I want it back.”

  “Don’t come any closer, Mother.”

  “Why, Daughter? You won’t need the book where you’re going.” She cackled.

  “What did you do?” Talia asked.

  “Your powers will help turn the tide and enable the Nazis to win the war. Don’t you see, I’ve done it for us all and once this infernal human war is over, you’ll be free once more and we will be reunited, and honoured beyond all measure.”

  Tamara stood face to face with her mother. “You condemned your own daughters? Do you know what Hitler will do in order to secure our gifts for himself?”

  “What’s a little suffering?” Abigail replied, glibly, “I suffered enough for the three of you.”

  “We came back for you because we loved you,” Talia said, her voice rising a number of octaves.

  “But my soul had already passed over, and only my body remained. You reanimated nothing more than a shell, but with you three out of the way, the book will be mine once again, and its full power at my command.”

  “We won’t allow you to take our powers,” Tabitha declared. “Sisters, come, to me.”

  Talia and Tamara rushed to Tabitha’s side.

  “Book,” Tabitha cried, “Bind Abigail Crockworthy so she can do no more harm.”

  The book opened and the pages turned furiously.

  “You’d curse your own mother? You ungrateful bitches.”

  The pages continued to turn then settled on a spell.

  In unison, the sisters looked at the spell and chanted.

  We call upon our ancestor’s past,

  Bind Abigail Crockworthy,

  Make it last.

  The door to the secret room flew open and Abigail was lifted off her feet by shadowy figures. She screamed as she was pulled out of the room.

  The sisters followed quickly behind and watched as she was taken up the corridor.

  Abigail struggled to break free of the figures holding onto her, but wasn’t strong enough.

  The sisters watched as one of the shadowy figures kicked open the door to the right.

  It swung open and Abigail was catapulted inside. She landed on the floor with a thud.

  With a wave of Tabitha’s hand, the figures dissipated into the air.

  “Thank you,” the sisters said, bowing slightly.

  All three sisters stood in the doorway, but none appeared willing to cross the threshold.

  Abigail stood on the other side of the threshold, unable to cross, her old and tired looking face twisted in fury.

  “Release me,” she shrieked, pulling at her grey hair in temper.

  “Not until we find a way of controlling you,” Tabitha replied, her shoulders heaving with sobs.

  “You can’t leave me to rot in here,” Abigail said, offering a slither of a smile.

  “We can, and we will,” Tabitha said. “You were prepared to offer us to the Nazis, as bait,” She looked at Talia and Tamara, tears falling down their cheeks. “Why should we help you?”

  “I’m your Mother.” Abigail was obviously trying to appeal to their better natures. “I’ll die in here.”

  “We’ll make sure you’re provided for, but in there you will stay,” Talia declared with an air of finality. “Close the door, Tabi. I never want to see her again.” Talia turned her back and crossed her arms.

  Tabitha looked down at the book in her hands, then looked to Tamara for answers.

  Tamara turned her back on her mother too.

  It fell to the eldest of the triplets to pass sentence on the woman who gave birth to them.

  “Book, chain her,” she ordered, almost choking on the words.

  Suddenly, chains appeared from nowhere and Abigail roared in protest.

  By magic, the chains attached themselves to her wrists and irons clamped around her ankles.

  “The silver,” she cried, “it burns me.”

  “You’ll get used to it,” Tabitha shouted.

  “Tabitha, please don’t do this,” Abigail screamed from beyond inside the room.

  “Goodbye, Mother,” she cried and with that said, the door slammed shut. “Book, ensure Abigail Crockworthy is taken care of,” Tabitha ordered.

  She kissed the book cover and turned to face the secret room, throwing the book into the air. It took flight and flew down the corridor to where it belonged, the door banging shut behind it.

  Tabitha was doing her best to keep her emotions in check. Tears were threatening, but she held onto them defiantly.

  “Come on, you two. We need to go upstairs and face them. If we don’t they’ll burn Moonlight Manor to the ground.”

  Tamara and Talia turned back around to face their sister.

  “What are we going to do?” Tamara asked.

  “Allow them to take us, but never, ever show them a display of our power. That way, with a bit of luck, they’ll think they’ve been passed false information.”

  Talia looked alarmed. “We can’t let the Nazis take us.”

  “We don’t have a choice,” Tabitha replied.

  She held out her arms and her sisters ran into them. They held each other for a minute, before Tabitha pulled away.

  “Right, are you ready?” Tabitha asked. “We’ll blink directly to the garden and walk towards the house. That way they’ll think we’ve been out here all this time.”

  “Ready,” Talia and Tamara replied.

  “Blessed be,” Tabitha said to her sisters.

  “Blessed be,” they replied.

  The sisters closed their eyes and found themselves in the garden. They turned and hand in hand, walked toward the house.

  “Stay strong,” Tabitha whispered. “And don’t let go.”

  Minutes later, they were surrounded by enemy forces.

  Chapter Three

  Tabitha blinked away the tears and momentarily, she was back in the present.

  She tried not to think of the day they incarcerated their own mother, but there was no choice. It was either her, or them.

  Their ordeal at the hands of the Nazis lasted longer than any of them thought it would, but they were resolute – the Nazis would never witness a display of their powers and live to tell the tale.

  She took her mind back to the day they were given their freedom.

  *

  Friday 8th May 1945.

  V.E. Day.

  The nation rejoiced, but the ghosts of the past loomed large in the people’s minds.

  England’s infrastructure had suffered irreparable damage during the last five years and many innocent people had lost their lives.

  They would never be forgotten, but this day was for celebrating, and collectively, the nation would deal with its shared grief once the party was over.

  The sisters had been flown home from Hanover in northwest Germany two days prior, having been liberated from a secret underground research facility deep within the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp on 19th April 1945. It had taken British troops four days to find them.

  They’d been starved in
the last weeks of the imprisonment and each weighing less than a nine-year old child, they were carried out into the daylight, just under four years to the day since they’d been incarcerated.

  Betrayed by their own mother, the Germans had spirited them away under the cover of darkness and taken them direct to a waiting plane and flown to Germany.

  Their captors had treated them well at first, believing the sisters would share their supernatural gifts and help the Nazis win the war, but it didn’t take them long to guess the sisters would never allow their gifts to be used by a tyrant hell bent on world domination.

  Various means of convincing the sisters to bend to their will were tried, but each and every method ended in failure.

  One fateful day in 1943, Commander Adolf Haas was transferred to the camp in from Niederhagen Camp at Wewelsburg.

  Already aware of the prisoners held secretly underground, he took a keen interest in the sisters, trying to befriend and manipulate them, wanting to know their history and what their capabilities were.

  The sisters were far too clever and refused to give Haas what he wanted. Soon after, the torture began and one by one the sisters became victims of hideous experimentation.

  Haas pushed the experiments as far as he dared, not wanting his prisoners mortally or fatally wounded. They were far too important to the Third Reich.

  Little did Commander Haas know, they were immortal and could only die when all three recited the same spell in unison.

  He was reported missing in action on May 1st, 1945.

  That day was the only time he’d ever been alone with the prisoners.

  Holding a knife to Tamara’s throat, he demanded to be shown an example of their powers.

  They gave him what he’d spent nearly two years asking for and blasted him into atoms.

  His was the only human life they had ever taken, and one day, they were sure the Goddess would ensure they answered for their crime.

  A few weeks after liberation, the sisters were strong enough to travel and returned home to Moonlight Manor.