The Flower and the Serpent

by Madeleine D'Este

  ‘Oh, she tried.’

  ‘I'm so sorry,’ Violet snivelled. ‘Please forgive me.’

  ‘Me. Me. Me.’ Lila tossed her head and laughed. ‘It's still all about you, isn't it? Jeanette. Violet. Whatever you call yourself. You're still the same selfish little brat.’

  Violet sucked in a shallow breath. She was the worst friend ever. She didn't need the black hands to hold her down anymore. She didn't even bother to struggle.

  ‘Oh, your self-loathing tastes like liquorice,’ Lila tittered.

  Then Lila's laughing stopped abruptly. She frowned and turned her head.

  Violet followed Lila’s gaze.

  A silver ball rolled out of the darkness and along the floor and stopped under Angelika's feet. The ball hissed and fizzed, and burst open into segments like an orange. Smoke poured out of its centre and sent pink-grey clouds billowing into the air.

  Lila cleared her throat.

  Once.

  Twice.

  The plumes of smoke curled and twisted towards the ceiling. Lila coughed and pressed her fist over her mouth. The shadowy hands loosened their grip around Violet's shoulders.

  Tendrils of the pink-grey smoke flitted across the room and circled Lila. She doubled over, her hands on her thighs as she gasped and coughed.

  Violet narrowed her eyes. She was breathing easily while Lila choked. Angelika also seemed unaffected. She was as listless as a rag doll but not coughing. And Rowan's corpse didn't move, of course.

  Violet sniffed the air, trying to identify the caustic smell wafting in the smoke, but she'd spent most of Year Ten Chemistry daydreaming about her first Hollywood movie deal.

  Above her head, the twirling drill slowed to a standstill.

  The smoke swirled around Lila's body, wrapped around her legs, arms and neck and secured her with a vaporous rope.

  Thump.

  Scrape.

  A familiar shape emerged from the shadows. Violet's eyes widened.

  ‘Stop. I command you.’

  A plump woman in a pink cardigan lumbered forward, her eyes on Lila. ‘Stop. I command you.’

  ‘Miss Quinlin?’ Violet shook her head.

  ‘You are not welcome here. Retreat. Back to whence you came.’

  Lila lifted her head. She opened her mouth and spoke in a voice which was both syrupy and brittle, both masculine and feminine. It was coarse with experience and bright with youth. The voice was familiar and yet the strangest thing Violet had ever heard.

  ‘You think you can stop me.’

  The shadow hands pulled Violet down fast against the metal bench.

  Lila straightened up to her full height and tossed aside the smoke restraints. She barked out a laugh. ‘You? Science teacher?’

  ‘We have done it before and we will do it again,’ Miss Quinlin said and flung a handful of white sand into Lila's face.

  Lila swatted away the grains. ‘It'll take more than salt to get rid of me, you silly old woman.’

  A person in a black hood carrying a bow stepped silently into the light.

  Violet gasped. It was the man with the big black dog from the bush track, the one lurking around Beacon Hill in the dark. What had he said to her again? Beware. He must be Lila's accomplice.

  ‘Watch out, Miss Q,’ Violet called. ‘Behind you.’

  Miss Quinlin smirked.

  ‘You are not welcome here. Retreat. Back to whence you came.’ The man revealed short silver hair as he pulled down his hood.

  But it was not a man at all. The woman's cold blue eyes stared straight ahead, her pupils white and cloudy. She was blind.

  A third woman emerged from the shadows on the left.

  ‘You are not welcome here. Retreat. Back to whence you came,’ she said in her lilting foreign accent.

  It was the curly-haired bus driver in her forest green uniform.

  Violet spluttered with relief.

  ‘You are not welcome here. Retreat. Back to whence you came,’ all three women said in unison.

  The dark room lit up with an orange flash as the blind woman struck a lighter and fired off a flaming arrow.

  Bullseye.

  The arrow pierced the centre of Lila's chest. Flames radiated across her body and ate away at her long black witch's costume. But Lila didn't even flinch. She laughed, hands on hips.

  ‘Oh, ladies. Such amateurs,’ she sneered. ‘This is only my current form. You are only hurting the girl.’

  Lila dropped her chin to her chest and blew hard. She whistled like a gale and snuffed out the flames as if they were candles on a birthday cake.

  The bus driver lunged forward with a glass vial and sprayed water at Lila. It sizzled as it splashed against her skin.

  ‘Holy water?’ Lila arched an eyebrow, but angry welts flared up on her cheeks. ‘Come on, children.’

  ‘Peridot water is much stronger.’ The bus driver smirked and showered Lila with more liquid.

  Lila narrowed her eyes. Her pale skin rippled and bubbled like melted cheese under a grill. Her face bulged with blisters.

  ‘By the power of three, we command you.’

  Miss Quinlin bowled another smoke bomb. The ball unfurled at Lila's feet. The smoke ropes snaked upwards, and restrained her limbs. The blind woman shot another flaming arrow. This time, the tip ploughed into Lila's left shoulder. The bus driver slapped more water across Lila’s face and Miss Quinlin followed up with a handful of salt.

  ‘Air, fire, water, earth,’ they said with one voice, commanding and confident, their heads held high.

  Uneven on her feet, Lila grimaced. ‘Pathetic. You need more than folk magic to defeat me.’ But her voice wasn't as strong as her words.

  The women ignored her. They launched their weapons: smoke, flaming arrows, infused water and salt flew in all directions. Lila covered her head with her arms as the three women closed in and circled around her.

  ‘By the power of the Warden, we command you. Water to drown, fire to burn, air to smother, earth to bury.’

  Lila dropped to her knees as an arrow stuck straight through her torso and flames licked at her from both sides.

  ‘Water to drown, fire to burn, air to smother, earth to bury.’

  Lila swatted weakly as showers of salt bounced off her body.

  ‘Water to drown, fire to burn, air to smother, earth to bury.’

  Lila's face and neck were scorched in sections like pork crackling. The air was cloudy with smoke and the smell of cloying chemicals and roasted flesh.

  ‘Leave this body. Leave this child and return to whence you came.’

  Lila crumpled into a heap on the concrete, howling and screeching. Her high-pitched cries scratched at Violet's eardrums.

  The shadow hands loosened their grip around her body.

  ‘Leave this body and return to whence you came.’

  The three women circled Lila as the smoke billowed and thickened covering Lila's head like a sack.

  ‘Leave this body and return to whence you came.’

  Lila folded in on herself, like a slug in salt.

  The lights blasted on. The room was as bright as a relentless summer day. The temperature sky-rocketed and within seconds sweat trickled down Violet's spine. In the harsh white light, the shadow hands completely evaporated and Violet leaped off the drill bench. She hurried towards Angelika, who was slumped against the saw bench, her eyes stretched open but unseeing.

  ‘Help,’ said a little voice.

  Violet stopped.

  Lila. The real Lila.

  Lila looked up through messy hair, her face criss-crossed with weeping sores and jagged red welts. With a trembling lip, she reached out for Violet.

  ‘Leave this body and return to whence you came.’ The women continued their chant.

  ‘Stop,’ Violet cried and rushed to the circle of women with her arms outstretched. ‘It's Lila. Can't you hear her?’

  ‘It's not complete,’ said the blind woman. ‘We have not defeated it. Leave this to us.’

  �
��Violet, please? Make them stop,’ Lila sniffed. ‘I'm sorry. I only wanted to help you.’

  ‘By the power of the Warden, we command you. Water to drown, fire to burn, air to smother, earth to bury.’

  ‘You're hurting her!’

  ‘Don't listen to what she says,’ the bus driver said. ‘It is not your friend.’

  ‘You don't understand. It's gone from her. Can't you see?’

  ‘No,’ said Miss Quinlin, grasping at Violet's wrist. ‘We're not finished. Trust us.’

  Violet pushed aside the three women and wrapped her arms around Lila's neck, and drew her into her chest.

  Lila rested her head against Violet's shoulder and sobbed. ‘I'm sorry.’

  ‘I know. I'm sorry, too.’

  The friends embraced, laughing and crying at the same time, their tears dampening their black witch costumes.

  ‘It's all over now.’ Violet smiled.

  Chapter 17

  VIOLET

  Lila's shoulders heaved with heavy sobs. Violet held her tight. ‘It's gone. You're safe now.’

  ‘Be careful,’ the bus driver warned.

  The three women loomed over the girls, their faces wrinkled with concern. Bombs, arrows, water and salt at the ready.

  Lila bit down on her shaking lip. ‘Make them go away.’

  ‘You're upsetting her,’ Violet said. ‘You can go now.’

  ‘Violet. Listen to us. We can't go yet,’ Miss Quinlin said.

  ‘Thank you for getting rid of it, but we don't need you anymore. Can't you see? She's all better.’

  ‘The entity is strong. Don't be fooled,’ said the blind woman.

  ‘I'm not an idiot. I know my friend when I see her.’

  ‘Do you?’ said the bus driver.

  ‘Leave us alone. It's over.’ Violet pointed towards the door. ‘Thanks for your help. But it's time for you to go.’

  The three women did not move.

  Lila sobbed again.

  ‘Go.’ Violet got to her feet, her nostrils flaring.

  Miss Quinlin and the bus driver glanced over at the blind woman standing firm. They copied her.

  Lila covered her face with her chewed fingers. Violet crouched beside her, rubbing her back.

  Little by little, Lila's crying changed.

  Gradual and faint at first, her sobs softened into giggles.

  Violet recoiled with a sharp inhale.

  Lila's laugh grew louder, more malevolent and amplified into a high-pitched shriek as a manic grin spread across her scalded face.

  ‘Too easy,’ Lila laughed and shook her head. ‘You never did listen, did you, Violet?’

  Miss Quinlin, the blind woman and the bus driver moaned and clutched at their stomachs.

  ‘You think you can defeat me with a few chemicals and water?’ Lila stood up. She rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck. She smoothed her hands over her face and when she looked up, her face was clear, skin good as new.

  The three women slumped to the concrete floor. Miss Quinlin whimpered.

  ‘Now I have some new friends to play with. What fun.’ Lila kicked Miss Quinlin in the face. She flicked off her glasses and crushed the lenses under her boot. Miss Quinlin rolled on the ground like an upturned turtle.

  ‘I command you...’ The blind woman spluttered but stopped and writhed as another convulsion tore at her body.

  ‘Leave them alone,’ Violet said. This time, her hands were free but her hammer was somewhere on the other side of the room.

  If Miss Quinlin and the bus driver could not defeat the evil, what chance did Violet have? If only Anthea or Yaya or even Dahlia were here. Violet scrubbed her fingers through her hair.

  Lila paraded around the three women, moving from one to another. ‘Eeeny. Meeny. Miney. Mo...’

  Violet pressed her lips together and launched off the floor onto her feet. ‘Take me,’ she said, her chin thrust in the air. ‘Leave Lila and take me instead.’

  ‘You?’ Lila turned, her head tilted to one side. ‘I don't think so. It's really quite comfortable here. Once I'm bored with you lot, I'm going out to the theatre to play with the others. No one'll suspect a thing. Weird little Lila is the perfect disguise.’

  ‘You say you've been inside my head.’ Violet inched forward.

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Lila bounced on her toes. ‘A wonderful soup of neuroses and grudges.’

  ‘You know what I'm capable of. I'm much meaner than Lila. It's inbuilt already. Imagine the extra fun you'd have inside me.’

  Lila grabbed the blind woman's head and gripped her by her short grey hair. The woman's face was tight with anger and Lila released her grip, letting her head drop onto the floor with a crack against the concrete. The blind woman stopped moving.

  Violet swallowed.

  ‘Go on.’ Lila turned back. ‘You were saying.’

  Violet cleared her throat. ‘You've seen the hate I have within me. Wouldn't I make a better host than Lila? Deep down, Lila is good. Not rotten like me.’

  ‘Boo hoo. Poor you,’ Lila cackled. ‘But you may have a point.’

  ‘Don't!’ Miss Quinlin squealed, a stream of blood running down her forehead and between her eyes. ‘You don't know what you're doing.’

  ‘Shut up.’ Lila stamped on Miss Quinlin's fingers and laughed as the science teacher howled.

  ‘We could burn off their fingernails with blowtorches and then slice them into pieces. With that saw over there,’ Violet said, nauseated by her own suggestions.

  ‘Oh.’ Lila stopped short and looked over at Violet with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. ‘Perhaps I did underestimate you.’

  Violet drew in big lungfuls of air and pasted on a smile. ‘Leave Lila and come to me,’ she said.

  ‘You know what you are saying?’

  ‘I want you to.’

  ‘You all do. Sooner or later.’

  ‘Stop. No,’ said the bus driver with a croak. She crawled on her knees across the concrete, and reached out her fingers. ‘Stop.’

  Lila walked over and stood toe to toe with Violet. Violet's breaths were shallow as Lila studied her face and eyes intensely. Violet’s pulse thundered in her ears.

  Lila clutched Violet by the throat.

  ‘You asked for this.’

  Violet's vision blurred, and the room spun and shimmered. The lights flashed on and off. Lila's fingers squeezed Violet’s larynx, her grip so tight that veins were visible on the inside of Violet's eyeballs.

  ‘Ready or not, here I come,’ Lila said with a trill.

  Violet forced her eyes open. Lila let go of her throat and grabbed a handful of her hair instead. She wrenched back Violet's head and exposed her throat. Lila opened her jaws wide like a snake.

  A black shadow emerged from her mouth and curled into the air. The shadow shifted and contorted, from inky clouds of air into the form of a howling man, then a screeching woman and finally into a snarling monster with pointed horns.

  The shadow swarmed around Violet's head like a black balaclava and blinded her while a rancid stench invaded her nostrils.

  The three women pleaded but their voices seemed so far away as the shadow penetrated her mouth. Violet choked as the blackness trickled down her throat and rushed into her body, freezing her from the inside out. Her heartbeat dwindled to the slow beat of a battle drum. She slipped into the darkness.

  Wails of pain rang in her ears, scores of unfamiliar voices. Visions of pools of blood, snapped bones, white gristle and flayed skin passed before her eyes. She saw a man trussed up above a fire, yowling in pain, as a crowd of onlookers chanted and a man in a leather apron carved away his skin with a knife.

  Violet writhed and gasped for breath. The shadow was showing her the truth of what happened here in Beacon Hill. The black memories were still fresh in the soil and the school walls played the images back to her.

  Violet tumbled further into the darkness and clambered through new footage. She witnessed gun fire, stonings and white-knuckled strangulations. She saw broken teeth,
torn dresses and bloodstained underwear.

  Then she heard their voices. Young and old, male and female, in every language on earth and yet they all wailed with the same pain.

  You won't reject me. Not this time.

  I deserve it.

  He never loved me.

  No, I won't let you go.

  It's not my problem.

  She shouldn't be walking by herself at night.

  They're not even human.

  No one will ever love me.

  Like punches to the face, Violet was bombarded with new images, new voices. But as the moments ticked by, her initial shock and revulsion quickly faded away. She looked closer and listened harder, this time with curiosity as the scenes of horror skimmed over her.

  Before she could stop it, a smile curled across Violet’s lips.

  She looped back to the original scene, and the sacrifice on Beacon Hill. The way the man's eyes bulged in pain was almost funny, it was so pathetic. Stupid little man. He deserved everything he got.

  A new rush surged through Violet’s body like a bolt of lightning. The cold was gone; Violet now hummed with a red-hot power. She giggled to herself and glanced around the workshop, her head singing with thousands of years of wisdom and memories, of violence, of betrayal and lies.

  Violet understood now. She was not the originator or the instigator. These dark impulses existed naturally in every person. She was only the amplifier.

  New images streamed into her mind. A red-combed rooster pecking at childish skin. A man groping a young girl, ignoring her protests and the terror in her eyes. Snakes writhing and hissing, fangs glistening with poison. Spiders crawling. A laughing doll's face. A broken mirror. The punch in the ribs.

  Violet tasted and smelled all their fears, both the victims and the perpetrators. She knew everything, what everyone was thinking and worrying about and what they plotted. She saw the longing, the craving for revenge, the wounds underneath that never healed. She sucked in the pain and anguish that radiated from the women and girls lying on the floor. It was delicious. She wanted more.

  Then she heard her own laugh. She was cackling exactly as Lila had before her. But Lila was on the ground now, hugging her knees to her chest with wide frightened eyes. This time it was the real Lila staring back.