I CAN’T BEGIN to describe the nightmare of being trapped in your own body. Days after the unprovoked attack on my home by the demon spawn, I had woken in the hospital. Much to my surprise, I was unable to move a finger or even flutter my eyelids. I was forced to lay there staring at the ceiling and plot revenge. My beloved wife must be dead, or she would be at my side. I feared for my daughter as well. Despite my best efforts, I could not control my own body. Alone in a hospital bed I waited for something to change. Yet the only thing that did was the room when I was transferred to a Long Term Care facility. The nurses there were attentive, checking on me frequently. But I spent much of the time alone with the steady beep of my heart rate monitor. My body was healthy, I just had no control over it. I could tell by the slow lengthening of days when summer came, followed by the shorter days as it went. I watched as a nurse decorated my room with pumpkins, then turkeys, then Santas.
I don’t know how I managed to stay sane through it all. Creating some mental games to play proved an effective distraction. Mentally crying out to Evelyn, I think I felt a connection a couple of times. It was enough to convince me that she lived, which took a weight off my mind. She could hate me as long as she was safe. With that worry set aside I began to plot the demise of the Hoffman family. This was their fault. Someday I would be free of this curse, and they would pay.
Lunchtime became my favorite time of the day because that was when one of the nurses, Mary Lou, would slip into the room and read me a few chapters from whatever book she happened to be reading. Admittedly, the sappy romance stories she preferred would have generally turned me off, but it gave me something to focus on. Her voice was soft and musical and brought the pages to life. All too soon she would get up, turn the television in my room on to some feel-good TV channel before leaving.
One morning, during what I suspected to be early spring, the door opened. The nurse had already made her morning rounds and it wasn’t time for Mary Lou, so I had no idea what to expect. Whatever it was, it wasn’t an overweight girl with green-brown eyes and long stringy hair. She wore a black top with bell shaped sleeves and an ankle length skirt. I would have rolled my eyes if I had any control over them. Another wannabe witch, come to stare at the fallen master, eh? There'd been a few over the last several months since my reputation in the witchy world was of rather epic proportions. When she spoke, her words shocked me.
“Your attempts to contact Evelyn have not gone unnoticed, Mr. Matthews. I am here because she feels responsible for your condition. It was her magic your wife used to do this to you. I will reverse the spell, but you must promise to leave her with me and my coven.”
There was too much in that for my brain to process. I couldn’t believe my Monica had done this to me. Sure she’d been a bit zealous in her pursuit of the demons who walked among us. And ok she’d become obsessed with the Hoffman family. But I couldn’t imagine her doing anything against me. I didn’t have long to dwell on these thoughts, though, because the girl moved on.
“You must promise you will not harm any of my coven, including Evelyn.” I tried to nod, shrug, scream, anything to show my acceptance, but not even a twitch. I would agree to anything if it would just free me from this hellish prison.
I don’t know how, but she knew I agreed. She came forward and laid her hand on my forehead. Her red aura tinged with purple told me she was calling on the Powers. I felt like a Mac truck hit me. My entire body hurt. It seemed like my muscles should be contorting with all the pain, but I laid motionless beneath her hand. Slowly the pain stopped, and she stepped back. I tried to move but still couldn’t, tried to follow the girl with my eyes but couldn’t as she disappeared out of the room.
The following days were gruelingly slow. I don’t know if the nurses noticed a change or if it was a routine check, but the next day the doctor came. The tiny pricks on my fingers and toes, the swab down my throat, and the bright light in my eyes had become routine over the last year. But this time something was definitely different. When the doctor stuck my toe, it twitched. He stopped midsentence, and I could almost feel the weight of the nurses’ stares. Then I felt him poke another spot on my foot and the muscle there twitched in response. All of sudden they were all talking at once. The giant Q-tip was stuck in my throat making me gag, which seemed to stir them up again. When the doctor moved to shine the light in my eyes, I was able to blink.
I can’t begin to express what a wonderful sensation the simple act of blinking is. For months my lids had been locked open. The nurses would close them manually occasionally, but they would snap open like window shades. They had whispered about how creepy it was, how they had never seen anything like it. But I was thankful I could at least see and wasn’t trapped in complete darkness. But now the tiny sensation I had always taken for granted felt positively heavenly.
“Mr. Matthews?” the doctor asked timidly in a deep baritone voice. “Can you hear me?” I tried to answer but my vocal chords didn’t respond. “Blink if you can hear me.” The room went silent as everyone waited breathlessly for my response. I blinked, squeezing my eyes shut then opening them again. To make sure they realized it was a conscious movement I did it again. And again.
There was much celebrating and talk of miracles. Mary Lou came to read to me and was so pleased with my recovery she came over to the bed and brushed a gentle kiss on my cheek. It was in that moment I realized the ray of light in my current state was one of the demons. I don’t know how my ability to tell the demons worked. I just could tell them when they were close. I wondered why I hadn’t felt it before, but it must have been part of the curse. I knew her true purpose in coming each day had been to revel in my misery, and I knew she would have to die.
Recovery was a long, slow road. It took about a week before I could lift my arms on my own, and nearly a month before I could sit up unassisted. Spring was in full bloom as I stood up from my bed for the first time, almost falling despite the walker in front of me.
I finally returned to my empty house at the end of April, not sure where to begin. The Hoffmans had to be tracked down and made pay for everything that happened to my family. But first I needed a test—something to see if I was recovered enough to handle them. My mind immediately went to the demon, Mary Lou.
I barely finished the chant to discover the type of demon she was before I knew she was a pixie. Despite the lore, there are no “harmless” creatures. They are all demons and a blight on humanity. I drove to her house. The pretty young woman was only a disguise she wore to hide the evil within, so I didn’t let her tears or her pleas sway me. I drew the symbol to protect me from her powers on the floor and forced her into it. She fell to her knees, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Monica preferred the messy and gruesome stake to the heart, but I was never a fan. I preferred to keep my hands clean, so I used a pistol. The stories got it wrong—a simple bullet to the head will stop anything.
I walked down the steps and climbed into my car, happy to put this town in my rearview mirror. First, I needed to find out what had happened to my wife. Second, I would make those that did it to her pay. The Hoffmans would suffer by God. This would not be the end.
Read on for a sample of
Book Two in the Forces of Nature Series
Natural Selection Page 31