The inside of the cabin was dark. I got on my hands and knees and crawled inside, glancing around and coughing in the musty air. It seemed abandoned, like it had been there for hundreds of years. But as I crawled all the way inside, the door slammed shut behind me. Panic and fear welled up in my chest, and I screamed. I already felt suffocated; the stuffy air of the cabin was musty and old.
“Help me!” I shrieked. “Somebody, help! I’m stuck!”
There was no reply. A strange, high-pitched whirring sound began to play all around me, and I shivered. Tears of fright pricked my eyes, and I couldn’t stop myself from beginning to sob as the tears rolled down my face and dripped from my cheeks. As I screamed for help, a sudden gust of hot air blew over me. I screamed as I saw red and orange flames begin to dance in a corner of the room. They lit up the entire inside of the cabin, and I gasped when I realized there was a huge stone hearth. Brass runes were set into the stones, and they flashed in the firelight.
“Hello?” My legs were nervous pillars of jelly as I walked toward the fireplace, sniffling and wiping my eyes. “Monica? Is that you?”
The flames flickered and grew higher. I gasped as I tilted my head up to the ceiling and realized the cabin had suddenly tripled in size. I was standing in the middle of a giant hall, with rushes on the dirt floor. The flames licked at my body, singing my hair and eyebrows until I smelled the acrid scent of burnt death. I screamed again and tried to scramble back, but I tripped over my feet and landed on my butt. My hands scraped the dirt floor under the ferny rushes, and I groaned, a low guttural sound.
The flames licked and leapt higher toward the sky. I was certain that at any moment, the small cabin would be engulfed in flames. I closed my eyes, rocking back and forth and praying for a quick death.
“Elizabeth!”
My eyes bolted open. Impossibly, I saw Monica’s slight figure standing in the middle of the fire. Her brown eyes were ablaze, and her blonde hair was tangled and matted. There were odd markings on her face, and her pale arms were bare.
“Help me, Elizabeth,” Monica cried. She closed her eyes, and I could see her face was etched with pain and sorrow.
“I don’t know how!” I wailed. “Help me!”
“I’m trapped, Elizabeth,” Monica said sadly. “I can’t escape. I’m stuck here!”
“I promise I’ll get you out,” I said. The rush of the flames grew louder. The fire began to spread from the fireplace, licking and creeping up the walls until logs and dried mud were raining from the ceiling. I cried out as a log painfully hit me on the head and bounced to the floor. Sobbing loudly, I curled up on the floor and wrapped my arms around my knees. I knew I was going to die; I just hoped that it came quickly and didn’t hurt.
“Elizabeth, help me,” Monica’s voice said. She sounded tiny and far away. “Help me, Elizabeth!”
“I can’t,” I sobbed into my arms. “I don’t know how!”
“Elizabeth!”
I jolted awake with a gasp. My heart was racing, and my skin was covered in a layer of damp perspiration. I glanced around quickly, looking for the giant fire and Monica and the old cabin.
It took me a minute to realize that I was in my bed, bundled up and covered with my favorite duvet. My mom was leaning over me, frowning.
“Honey, you were screaming in your sleep,” Mom said. She touched my forehead with the back of her hand. “And you’re burning up!”
The cabin, the fire – hell, even Monica – had seemed so real. I couldn’t believe that I was back at home, in my own bed, safe.
“I had a nightmare,” I said shakily. When I wiped my eyes, I realized my cheeks were damp. I’d been crying in my sleep.
Mom sat on the bed. “I’m worried about you,” she said. “Why don’t you come downstairs and have dinner with Aidan and me?”
I swallowed. “I’m not hungry.” Inside my chest, my heart was still pounding like a frantic drum. “I can’t eat right now, Mom. Really.”
“Just come downstairs,” Mom said. This time, her tone wasn’t as gentle. “I don’t want you up here alone, worrying about Monica. That’s not going to fix anything.”
I nodded. “I’ll be down in a minute,” I said. “Just give me a couple of seconds to change.”
Mom looked reluctant, but she nodded, backing out of my room and pulling the door almost closed. With a sigh, I got up from my bed and pulled on a sweater. I didn’t even bother glancing in the mirror before I went downstairs.
Mom and Aidan were sitting at the table, bowls of pasta in front of them. Their conversation halted to a complete stop as I sat down, and I gave Mom a suspicious look.
“What were you talking about?”
“Nothing.” Mom gave me a fake smile. “Can I get you some pasta, honey?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine,” I said. “Thanks.”
Mom got up anyway. She handed me a glass of water and a piece of garlic bread. “Your favorite,” she added. “Come on, Elizabeth. You have to eat.”
“Monica’s probably fine,” Aidan said. He made a revolting sniffling sound, then took a huge bite of pasta.
I wrinkled my nose. “Can I be excused?”
“Elizabeth, please,” Mom said. “We’re stronger as a family. Don’t forget that.”
So, I stayed for the rest of dinner. It was excruciating. My mind kept flashing back to that horrible nightmare I’d just had. Thinking about it was enough to make me shiver. The last thing I wanted to think about was Monica, trapped and alone. I knew I was probably just being dramatic, but I wondered if the reality was even worse. What if she’d been kidnapped? I shuddered, remembering a documentary I’d had to watch in school about girls who got sold into the sex trade. My teacher had said that sort of thing didn’t really happen around here, but I couldn’t be sure.
Not knowing was the worst.
After dinner, I bolted upstairs and grabbed my phone. Looking through the texts with Monica was painful, but I kept scrolling until I got to the message I wanted.
I was nervous as I dialed the number on my phone and held it up to my ear.
Someone answered immediately.
“Hello?”
I cleared my throat. “Hi, um, this is Elizabeth Hartsell, Monica’s friend.”
“Oh, my god, Elizabeth, where the fuck is Monica?” David sounded distressed and urgent. ‘What if he’s trying to sound like that on purpose?’ I wondered. ‘What if he’s trying to cover something up?’
“I was hoping you’d know.” I swallowed. Ever since she’d gone missing, I’d had a perpetual lump in my throat.
“No. I have no fucking idea.” David groaned. “She was supposed to call me Saturday night, but I never heard from her.”
My stomach plummeted to the floor. “I saw her for the last time on Saturday morning,” I whispered. “She hasn’t been in school.”
“What’s going on?”
“Nobody knows. I went to her house, and her parents were, like, freaky about it. They were so chill. It was like nothing bothered them.”
“Where do they think she is?”
“With you.” I shook my head. “She’s not, is she?”
“Jesus Christ, no,” David snapped. “I wouldn’t be fucking terrified if she were here.”
“I need to find her,” I said. “I’m so scared something really bad happened, David. I don’t know what to do.”
“You got school tomorrow?”
“Yeah. It’s Wednesday.” I rolled my eyes – this was exactly what I didn’t like about David. He was always so obtuse, to a point where it came across as deliberate ignorance on his part.
“Skip it,” David said. “I’ll drive down and pick you up. We can look for her together.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” I sighed. “My mom called the cops, and they came over and interviewed me, but they didn’t say anything about a missing person’s case.”
“Elizabeth, chill. We’re looking for my girlfriend, not tearing up some crime scene. You know t
he area better than I do. We should go together.”
A bad feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.
“Okay,” I said. “Fine. Pick me up by the school at nine-twenty. That’s ten minutes after class starts. I’ll tell my mom I’m sick or something and that I need to stay home. My parents both work during the day.”
“I haven’t heard shit from her,” David said, more to himself than to me. “She always called, like, all the time.”
I sighed. “I just hope she’s okay. A lot of weird stuff around town was freaking her out, but I totally dismissed it. I didn’t understand that she was really scared.”
David didn’t say anything. I wondered if Monica had told him the same stuff.
“I have to go,” David said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He hung up before I could reply. As I stared down at the phone in my hand, I murmured a silent prayer for my friend.
Chapter Six
Monica
I opened my eyes and groaned. Every muscle, every nerve – everything in my body was aching so badly that I felt like I’d fallen down a ravine. It was dark, and my eyes weren’t adjusting.
It took me a minute to realize I was in the woods behind my house. Frowning, I rubbed my eyes and sat up. ‘What the hell?’ I wondered, looking around. ‘Did I fall asleep out here? Where’s Elizabeth?’
There was something sticking into my thigh. With a grunt, I rolled over on the grass and wrapped my fingers around the blade of the knife. It was the same knife I’d found with Elizabeth earlier. And I’d recognized it almost instantly.
It was an athame.
A witch’s knife.
I’d seen pictures of athames and other ritualistic items in the books of witchcraft that I’d been collecting over the years. This one was no different; if anything, it looked like an antique. The handle was etched with runes, and the blade was notched thrice, as if to signify how the athame had been used.
When I touched the handle, I yelped and jerked my hand back. The hard surface was burning hot, and my fingers showed black scorch marks. Something deep inside was compelling me to take the knife. I knew that, for some reason, I couldn’t leave it behind.
Gritting my teeth, I pulled my light jacket off and wrapped the fabric around the handle of the athame. This time, it didn’t burn when I touched it. I got to my feet nervously and looked around. I was further in the woods than I’d ever been; they were oddly dense and thick, not like I’d remembered. When Elizabeth and I were kids, we used to play back here, pretending to be soldiers or elves. The woods had seemed so dark and scary then.
Not like now. Now they seemed familiar and cozy, despite the velvet blackness overhead. I shivered as I started to walk. My limbs ached so badly that it was an effort to place one foot in front of the other. And when I looked up, I couldn’t see the sky through the branches and leaves.
I wished I could stop being so cold. My stomach felt like an empty tube of toothpaste – wrinkled and empty. I had heartburn blazing up and down my esophagus like a trail of fire, and my head was thumping. My sinuses were filled with liquid concrete, and my hands were cold, shaky, and clammy.
I had to admit that I was filled with fear and anxiety as I pushed through the trees, looking for the familiar clearing that signaled I was close to home. To my dismay, the trees grew thicker and denser with each step I took.
I gasped and stopped dead in my tracks when I heard a rustling and crackling behind me. Spinning around, I clutched the athame to my chest. ‘Right,’ I thought sarcastically. ‘Like I could defend myself with this stupid knife. I can’t even hold the damn thing without burning myself.’ In my haste, the jacket slipped from my grasp, and my fingers curled around the bare handle of the knife.
This time, it didn’t burn. If anything, it felt cold and smooth. I gasped again and held the knife closer to my face. The blade was glowing in the dark of the woods, and I swallowed.
The rustling and crackling sounds grew louder. I turned on my heel and broke into a run, sprinting blindly into the forest. Fear pumped through my veins like liquid fire, and my heart beat frantically in my chest as I pushed my way through trees and branches and fallen limbs. Leaves and twigs whipped at my face as I ran faster and faster. After only a few moments, my legs were aching and my chest was heaving painfully, but I knew I couldn’t stop; whatever was chasing me would kill me.
No matter how fast I ran, the sounds behind me kept growing louder and louder. My palms began to sweat, but the athame was still clutched firmly in my right hand, almost as if glued to my skin. I tried to summon confidence, but nothing could stop the powerful waves of fear that kept washing over me. Stumbling over a tree limb, I skidded to a stop and darted to the side, sprinting in another direction.
The woods kept going forever. As I ran, my hope of finding home began to slowly fade. There was something different, something sinister about these woods. The air was thick and palpable with magic and haunting, and I shuddered as I kept running into the void of black.
The crackling and snapping sounds grew louder until the sound of my own breathing was drowned out. I sucked in gusts of air and forced my legs to keep pumping past the point of exhaustion until I thought I’d have a heart attack and die right there.
When a hand clamped down on my shoulder, I screamed. I stopped in my tracks, whirled around, and gasped at the man standing behind me. He was old. He was also tall – over six feet – with long, white hair, wizened skin, and the brightest blue eyes I’d ever seen. They glowed in the dark, just like the blade of the athame I clutched tightly in my fist.
“Leave me alone!” I screamed. “I’ll kill you!” I brandished the knife in front of me, waving the ancient blade in the air.
The man threw his head back and laughed. “You’ll do no such thing,” he growled in a low baritone. “You think of hurting a man with his own knife!”
I gasped in shock and tried to throw the athame behind me in the woods, but no matter how I tried, I couldn’t uncurl my fingers from the handle. My fist was locked, and I cried out in pain as I tried to pry my fingers off the smooth, cool surface.
“Enough,” the man growled. He grabbed my arm and yanked me closer. I tried to resist, but he was so strong; I knew I wouldn’t be able to fend him off. I tried waving my arm and moving the knife through the air, but suddenly my body was completely still.
“Good,” the man said. He closed his eyes and whispered a brief incantation under his breath. There was a large tree behind him, and the trunk began to glow with golden light. As I watched, a golden portal appeared on the bark of the tree. The man whispered something, tossed his head, then grabbed me and pulled me into the trunk of the massive oak.
The next thing I knew, I was falling. The weight was gone from my limbs, and I felt myself floating down, down, down through endless time and space. The man was gone – everything was gone. I was in a black void, drifting endlessly. There was no ground, no ceiling, no walls – nothing.
It was like being in space.
As I floated through the dark air, the panic began to seep from my veins. I could feel it being replaced with something warm and fuzzy, and it reminded me of being on hydrocodone after having my wisdom teeth taken out. I closed my eyes and sighed. The aching in my chest was starting to fade, and the burning in my legs from running so fast had already subsided.
‘This isn’t bad,’ I thought dreamily. ‘Maybe this is just a nightmare. Maybe I’m about to wake up.’ A huge yawn tore its way through my body, and I curled up, wrapping my arms around my knees and holding them to my chest. ‘Yeah, I must be asleep…that’s okay, I can sleep more,’ I decided. ‘Nothing is going to hurt me. I imagined everything. Elizabeth always says I’m too paranoid…yeah…that’s it…’
I fell asleep, soothed by the rocking motion of the infinite black space.
--
A drumming, rhythmic sound was piping around my brain like a giant subwoofer. My head ached. When I tried to rub my temples, I realized I couldn’t move
my hands.
My eyes shot open. I gave a start in surprise. I was sitting on the floor in the middle of a giant circle of people. Men and women dressed in black robes were swaying around me with their arms held high in the air. They were ignoring me, chanting in unison. The sound of chanting and murmured song thrummed through the air, a giant engine of human vocal energy.
When I tried to move my lips to speak, I found that every motion, every movement was a struggle. Tears filled my eyes as the chanting grew louder and louder. A spicy, herbal smell filled my nose, and I looked around as columns of grey and blue smoke filled the room.
Suddenly, the chanting stopped. The old man who’d grabbed me stepped into the middle of the circle, holding his arms up high. The other men and women bowed their heads and closed their eyes. Somehow, the silence was even eerier than the chanting had been. The man trained his eyes on me and stepped closer. I tried to wriggle away as the other men and women parted in waves, murmuring in low, sinister tones.
The old man knelt down and picked me up with surprising ease. He hauled me into a standing position, then dipped his head in a slight bow. Chills ran down my spine as I realized I was now the focal point of everyone in the room. ‘What am I doing here? What do these people want with me?’ The thought kept racing through my mind, and I was powerless to stop it.
Some feeling was returning to my fingers and toes, and I could feel that I was coming off something powerful; it was like waking up from strong anesthesia. Still, I couldn’t do more than wriggle in the man’s grip. He held a bundle of fabric high in the air before whispering an unintelligible word and pushing the fabric over my head.
“I command you to be still,” the old man growled. Instantly, I froze. He yanked the fabric over my head, moving my limbs with a practiced ease that made me realize he’d performed this ritual before. The old man yanked the fabric out to its full length. I realized it was a bright red robe, made of some kind of rough, homespun material.
Outcast (Moonlight Wolves Book 4) Page 23