The Flower and the Serpent

by Madeleine D'Este

  Violet wanted to call out to her, to explain what she'd done and why, but she couldn't speak for herself anymore, the darkness would not allow it.

  ***

  VIOLET

  Violet was a stranger in her own body.

  She grinned at the three women as they helped each other up on unsteady feet, their faces bruised and bloodied.

  The power was stronger than she had ever expected, the real Violet was squeezed into the far back corner of her mind.

  Violet turned her head and spied the cabinet running along the back wall. The ordinarily locked gates were wide open. She reached inside and lifted out Mr Neilsen's pride and joy: a long sword, its hilt carved with runes in copper and silver. It was fresh and new but an imitation of an ancient style. Violet bounced the sword in her hand to test the weight.

  She took a few wide swipes, enjoying the singing of the sword as it cut through the air. There was no residue of death within the steel, not yet.

  The bus driver, the blind woman and Miss Quinlin joined hands in a circle and resumed their chanting. Their voices were low, but of course, Violet could understand them. She heard everything and everyone, both internal and external. The way their fear intermingled with the spell was delicious. Their efforts were futile, their words meaningless and weak, and yet her fingers and toes began to itch.

  ‘Is that all you have?’ Violet laughed as she sauntered towards them, swinging the Viking sword. She pondered over which woman should lose her head first and imagined the splatter of blood onto the concrete. But the tickling irritation continued like a buzzing mosquito she couldn't swat.

  ‘I haven't got all day. Give me your best shot, ladies,’ Violet said. ‘There's a whole cast of messed up children waiting for me.’

  The scratching intensified and spread into her skull. Her head gnawed with a dull ache. Behind the pain, the real Violet sensed a gap, an opening within her mind, and she stretched out and crept into the vacant space. Whatever the three strange women were doing, it was working. Violet felt her own hand grip the sword.

  She opened her fingers and the sword dropped to the floor with a clang. The power growled inside her but Violet smiled back sweetly.

  ‘It's too late,’ the darkness said through her own mouth. ‘I have you.’

  ‘That's what you think.’ Violet grimaced, each word a struggle ejected forcefully through her lips. She clutched tightly at the space within her own head. There could be no retreat.

  But without her bidding, her hand reached down for the sword. She tried to pull her arm back but her fingers were wrapped around the hilt before she could stop herself. Then she was upright with the sword confidently in her right hand.

  ‘Who's in control?’

  Violet tried to scowl but the dark visitor kept a smile plastered on her face. She forced her lips open and stammered, ‘I want you to leave. Leave this place now. Leave us.’

  ‘I belong here. There is so much ego and angst within these school grounds, I could stay full for years.’

  ‘Leave.’

  ‘She invited me.’ Violet's finger pointed at Lila.

  ‘If I'd known what...’ Lila cowered and swallowed hard. ‘I am so sorry.’

  ‘Your invitation has been withdrawn,’ the real Violet replied. ‘Leave.’

  ‘I command you to leave. I command you to leave.’ The three women chanted under their breath and looked at Violet with light gleaming in their eyes and smirks on their lips. The temperature of the workshop plunged and their breath rose into the air in puffs of white smoke.

  ‘You don't dare,’ said the darkness through Violet's mouth.

  ‘I command you to leave,’ Violet joined in, repeating the words along with the three women.

  ‘I command you to leave.’ This time Lila's voice joined them.

  ‘I don't listen to schoolgirls.’

  ‘You will listen to me.’

  ‘Oh, will I?’

  Three pairs of shadowy hands materialised above Miss Quinlin's head. Violet gasped and the science teacher gulped but she maintained her mantra, even as the hands descended over her face.

  One dark hand clapped over Miss Quinlin's mouth while another hand pulled back her curly head, revealing her pink chubby throat. The bus driver whimpered and the blind woman frowned with confusion, unable to see what was happening but unable to break the chant to ask.

  Miss Quinlin spluttered under the gag of the shadowy hand. Another pair of hands grabbed her ankles and swept her off her feet. She landed heavily, her elbows and hips hitting the concrete hard, white salt spilling from her bag onto the floor.

  ‘Let her go,’ Violet said weakly but she could feel the incantation waning. Once again, the delicious cold power vibrated deep inside her and radiated from the marrow of her bones.

  An image appeared inside Violet’s mind, a glimpse of the entity's next move.

  ‘No,’ Violet stuttered.

  But the shadowy hands paid no attention to her.

  A hand hovered over Miss Quinlin's chest and like a blade, it plunged deep inside. The shadowy fingers pierced through the science teacher's clothes, her skin, her ribs. Her eyes bulged as she screeched.

  ‘Stop,’ Violet cried.

  The others stopped their chanting and stared.

  Miss Quinlin thrashed and babbled, her eyes rolling as the hand dug deep inside her chest. She moaned and convulsed on the floor.

  ‘I'll show you who is in control,’ Violet's lips said.

  The black hand re-emerged from Miss Quinlin's chest, gripping a mass of blood and flesh in its fingers.

  Violet's eyes widened.

  The bus driver screamed as the shadow hand thrust the glistening red heart triumphantly into the air. Blood dripped through the black fingers onto the oil-stained concrete.

  Miss Quinlin's body shuddered and jerked. Red tears ran down her pale cheeks and dribbled from her ears. Her chest was clean. Not a single drop of blood stained Miss Quinlin's pink fluffy cardigan.

  ‘Neat, huh?’ The entity said. ‘I too can move in mysterious ways.’

  Miss Quinlin's convulsions stopped. Her body lay limp and still. The bus driver choked out a sob and rushed over to her.

  ‘Someone tell me what's happening?’ cried the blind woman.

  ‘And then there were two. How does the saying go? Two is for mirth.’

  The hand, brandishing the stolen heart, glided through the air towards Violet.

  ‘No,’ Violet said.

  ‘Oh yes,’ her own lips replied.

  The hand came closer and closer. Violet could smell the raw meat, the stink of a butcher's shop.

  ‘Open wide.’

  Violet clenched her jaw hard but her body was not her own and her mouth opened obediently.

  ‘No,’ she tried to say but the words were only inside her head, and even then they were faint and weak.

  She gagged as the first drop of blood hit her tongue and the dark hand shoved the wet organ into her mouth. She shuddered, her mouth overflowing with the taste of blood and uncooked flesh. Her cheeks bulged and bile shot up her windpipe like a flame. Despite her protests, she started to chew.

  Her back teeth worked hard, grinding up the rubbery valves and ventricles. Her jaw muscles cried out with the strain but the hand pushed more into her mouth, forcing her to gulp down the half-chewed lumps. A tear trickled down her face as she munched on her science teacher's heart.

  But then the cloying taste of iron and tough texture disappeared and Violet’s mouth was filled with sweet whipped cream, ripe mango, raspberries dusted with sugar and pink marshmallows. This was the most glorious delicacy she'd ever tasted. She wanted it and she wanted more.

  Violet gobbled it down, groaning with delight.

  Until she was interrupted.

  ‘What the hell?’ said a voice.

  Holly stepped into the light, her hand clamped her mouth.

  Violet wiped the wetness from her mouth with her back of her hand. She looked down and saw the smears of bl
ood on her skin. Miss Quinlin's blood. The illusion and the taste of ambrosia vanished in an instant and her mouth was filled with the foul taste of rotting meat. Realising what she was doing, she retched.

  ***

  HOLLY

  ‘Violet?’ Holly's eyes widened.

  Violet stood hunched like an animal, her teeth and lips wet with blood.

  ‘What is going on?’ Holly stammered, her arms shaking as she held the fire extinguisher higher. It was worse than she ever could have imagined. ‘What are you eating?’

  ‘It's not how as it appears.’

  Holly spun around to face the woman bus driver, the woman with the strange predictions.

  ‘You?’ Holly said. ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘She's right, Holly,’ Lila murmured. Holly squinted into the shadows and saw her friend slouching against one of the standing drills, her freckled face ghostly white. ‘Violet is trying to save us.’

  ‘Lila!’ Holly put down the extinguisher and rushed to her side. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I think so. But I'm not the one who needs your help right now.’

  ‘I knew it was her all along. Why wouldn't anyone listen to me?’ Holly said, her mouth tightening.

  ‘No. You've got it wrong. It was me. I invited the demon in.’

  ‘Demon?’ Holly recoiled. She blinked rapidly, her eyes darting between Lila and Violet.

  Violet grinned as she licked blood from her fingers. ‘Welcome Witchy-poo,’ she called out across the workshop. ‘How nice of you to join us. Have you met the science teacher? Oh, and the lovely Rowan of course.’

  Violet gestured to the two corpses on the concrete: Rowan face down and Miss Quinlin on her back with red rivulets down her face.

  ‘Are they…?’ Holly clutched at her throat. ‘Did you?’

  She stared open-mouthed as she tried to untangle what she saw.

  ‘Your friend is right. We need your help. Join us,’ said a new voice. A stranger, a woman with milky blue eyes. ‘Together we can defeat her.’

  ‘You and your nursery rhymes,’ said Violet. ‘Don't waste your time.’

  ‘She invited the demon inside her,’ the bus driver continued.

  ‘To save me,’ Lila said.

  Violet paraded up and down, swinging a sword. The blade glinted in the light and sang through the air.

  Holly tilted her head. ‘Are you absolutely sure it's not Violet?’

  ‘Believe me,’ Lila whispered.

  From the outside, there was nothing different about her, aside from the blood-smeared mouth, of course. Demon or no demon, she was still the centre of all this chaos. Had Violet drawn Lila into her delusion?

  Yet somehow the air in the room seemed filled with a cold dread that dragged at her heart. As though all her nightmares had gathered in one place. Was this what evil felt like?

  Holly sucked in a shaky breath. Nothing made any sense but at the very least, the bus driver and the other woman had a plan.

  She wiped her damp palms on her witch's costume. ‘What do I need to do?’

  ‘Take over from Bridget,’ the blue-eyed woman said. ‘We need a third.’

  ‘Miss Quinlin?’ Holly gulped as she looked again at her teacher's dead body. ‘What happened to her?’

  ‘Best you don't know.’ The bus driver grimaced. ‘First we need to get to her bag. Help me.’ She pointed to a calico library bag strapped diagonally across Miss Quinlin's chest.

  Holly winced but followed the bus driver's instructions. The bus driver led the blind woman to the corpse and placed her hands on the dead woman's shoulders.

  ‘On my count?’ The bus driver said.

  Holly slipped her hands underneath the fuzzy pink cardigan. She swallowed. The body was still warm.

  ‘One. Two. Three. Lift.’

  She and the blind woman groaned with effort. Miss Quinlin was not a small woman in life. In death, she weighed a ton.

  ‘Need some help over there, girls?’ mocked Violet.

  They managed to lift the body just high enough for the bus driver to slip the strap off Miss Quinlin’s shoulder. The bus driver handed the calico bag to Holly.

  ‘Inside you'll find salt and smoke bombs. Once the spell has begun, follow—’

  ‘Spell?’ gulped Holly.

  The bus driver nodded and Holly thrust the bag back at her, shaking her head. ‘No. Sorry.’

  ‘But we need your help,’ the bus driver said. ‘Together we can drive the entity out of her. Two is not enough.’

  ‘Lila. You do it.’

  ‘We don't know if there are any remnants of the demon still inside her. We cannot take the risk. You are clean.’

  ‘Have you seen this bite on my face. I don't feel so clean,’ Holly said. She tried to chuckle but the bus driver frowned back at her.

  She swallowed. Not witchcraft. She’d promised herself in kindergarten. This was the one promise she was determined to keep. A single word would undo all the years of denial. Giving in now would make her the Witch Girl after all.

  Holly folded her arms tightly across her chest.

  She didn't have to follow her family path. She wasn't Dahlia.

  ‘Please,’ Lila begged as she tugged at her arm. ‘You have to help.’

  Violet paced and swung her sword, her face twitching as she muttered. Her face seemed to be split in two halves, her lips curled on the left, then the right, it was as though she was arguing with herself.

  ‘Look. See what the demon has done already.’ Lila pointed to the carcasses on the floor. ‘What it made me do.’ Lila swallowed and scrubbed her hand across her forehead. ‘I can still see her eyes, pleading as I squeezed her throat. I wish I could help and make amends. But the ladies are right. I'm tainted. Please. We need you.’

  Holly's chest tightened. She dropped her head to avoid their eyes and remembered Dahlia's advice. 'Listen to your gut'.

  Her gut spoke loud and clear.

  She sucked in a deep breath.

  ‘I'm sorry. I can't. You have to understand. Anything but that.’

  ‘But we need three,’ the bus driver said.

  ‘Is there something else I can help with? I'll get the police?’

  ‘Holly?’ cried Lila.

  She shook her head. ‘I can't.’

  ‘Young lady. This is gravely important,’ the blind woman scolded.

  ‘Please, Holly,’ said Lila said again.

  ‘‘Never,’ Holly said, knowing they wouldn't understand. She closed her eyes to block out their faces. She knew they wouldn't understand.

  Then a new voice spoke, a small frightened voice spoke.

  ‘Please,’ the voice said.

  Holly's eyes flicked open and she stumbled backwards. ‘Violet?’ she muttered. ‘Jeanette?’

  Violet's face was an expressionless mask but her voice was weak and desperate. ‘Please, Holly. Help me.’

  ***

  VIOLET

  ‘Enough!’ the voice in Violet’s head commanded. It reasserted control and locked her jaw, preventing her from saying anything more.

  Violet wished Holly could see past her jailer. Had she shoved Holly away too many times? After everything she'd done, Violet didn’t feel she even deserved to be saved. Did Holly?

  Holly slumped with a sigh. She wiped her face with her hand. ‘You have to understand. I said I'd never do it.’ Her eyes welled with tears as she looked at Violet.

  It was Violet's turn to sigh.

  ‘No one will save you,’ the entity laughed. ‘You are mine!’

  Violet whimpered but the sound was only audible inside her own head. She let go like a drowning swimmer surrendering to the ocean. She'd saved Lila. At least that was one thing.

  Violet noticed Holly bend over. She picked up the calico library bag and slipped it over her head. ‘What do you want me to do?’

  Violet screamed for joy from the inside of her body.

  ‘Follow our lead,’ said the blind woman and the bus driver produced another vial of peridot water. T
hey started to chant again.

  ‘I command you to leave. I command you to leave.’ Their eyes gleamed with fresh fervour and on the third round, Holly joined in. ‘I command you to leave.’

  The women encircled Violet and the itch returned to her hands and feet as the chant growing grew louder.

  It was working.

  ‘You wouldn't dare,’ the entity snarled from her mouth.

  Violet lifted the sword up high. The sharp blade glinted as she brandished it above her head.

  ‘I command you to leave,’ the three women repeated. This time Lila joined in, and even Angelika murmured from her slumped position in the corner.

  Violet took a deep breath and braced herself. The chant rattled inside her head like an unrelenting car alarm.

  ‘No one wants you here.’

  ‘I command you to leave.’

  ‘There is only one way to banish me and you don't have the guts, Jeanette Black. Or should I say, Violet.’ Violet laughed. ‘You think you're special. You believe you're better than the others, but you're as broken as anyone here. Such a selfish little brat. I know. I see everything.’

  ‘I command you to leave.’

  ‘You're right. I'm selfish. I'm no one special,’ the real Violet said.

  ‘I command you to leave.’

  ‘But you're wrong about one thing. I have the guts. Now!’

  Violet plunged the blade in under her own rib cage. The cold metal penetrated through skin and flesh. The blind woman released a burning arrow, the bus driver splashed her with sizzling peridot water, and Holly flung a handful of salt then tossed a smoke ball.

  The room went dark, but this time it was not the electricity malfunctioning. Violet's eyes were clouded with pain. She spluttered. The agony was like an operatic chorus, deafening and blinding, more intense than she could ever imagine, each second of pain seemed to last ten.

  She doubled over. The sword fell from her fingers in slow motion and landed on the ground with a clang.

  ‘I command you to leave.’ The five women continued their chanting, their voices waxing and waning.

  ‘What have you done?’ the power said, using her lips.

  The real Violet pulled the flaming arrow from her chest and threw it to the ground alongside the sword. She clutched at the hole in her waist as her warm rich blood soaked through her witch costume and pooled in her hand.