9. Chapter 9
I pulled out my laptop once I was back at the hotel room. I’d asked for a room change, but it didn’t help. The atmosphere was ruined.
Like most things.
I searched the kid’s names who died and found their social media accounts. It didn’t take long to find videos from that night. Gotta love this generation's need to record everything. It made my life easier.
The first one I found started with them walking into the Dark Entry Forest. Even on the camera there was a constant buzz of whispers that could sound like crickets if you didn’t pay close enough attention.
“We have to make them leave.” I heard clear as day from a feminine voice. I backed it up to make sure I heard it right.
I thought about the ghost’s reactions.
One boy talked about how most people never make it to the settlement. He said it with bravado and a stupidly brave expression, but it made me think. I looked over my arm where they’d grabbed me, trying to keep me from entering.
The ghosts were keeping people out, because that creature killed them. That was why the ghosts were killing themselves in the settlement. It was a mirror of their last moments.
I jumped from kid to kid and found it relatively easy to follow the night. The pure joy on them made me smile as I watched them.
That was us once.
Willow and Esme were going into the archives, and I was going to be a hunter. We took a summer trip to Prague.
Now look at us. Esme left the archives with a thirst for vengeance. Willow sank deeper in, hiding how much her mother dying broke her. Then there was me.
Nothing went how we thought it would.
I’d kill for that innocence again. Unfortunately, that wasn’t how it worked.
Intense eyes locked on me, and made me realize my mouth had twisted into an uncomfortable shape. It took a few tries, but eventually I was able to keep a neutral expression.
As the night went on, the kids caught quite a few apparitions on camera, starting with one or two, but they became more frequent as it got later. None of the kids seemed to notice though. They were too busy talking about the futures they wouldn’t get to have.
Maybe if they’d paid attention to their surroundings they would have left before it was too late. They’d let themselves feel safe in the herd, and forgot that fear was their friend.
Fear told you when something was wrong.
It was right before the witching hour, and the last couple of kids were going to bed, when I saw something that wasn’t a ghost. The shadows around the fire pit started quivering.
My eyes snapped to the fire itself, looking for any good reason for that behavior.
The fire moved as if it was struggling to stay lit despite its size. Like the wind was whipping across it.
“See you in the morning,” the girl recording said. “Tomorrow is a new life.”
The shadows grew against the ground like oil taking over everything. It made me search my room for any shadows behaving in ways they shouldn’t.
“Who is that?” a kid yelled, pointing into the distance.
An error took over the remaining five minutes of the video, even after I’d reloaded it a few times.
Damn it. That part probably had the juicy bits.
The next video was a couple hours later with the kids screaming and running through the woods, much like I had, right around four in the morning.
Except they weren’t as smart about it.
They ran full speed using their phones for light, but the shadows were ink on the ground chasing after them. I couldn’t see much even with all the lights, but after my run-in that wasn’t too surprising.
Icy breath hit my neck and my hair twirled around nothing.
It went like that until the phones died one by one. Leaving our camera in complete darkness. At one point the camera was focused behind them, and I could see how there was dim light several feet behind them. Because the shadow was already on top of them. Then the recorder’s phone died.
From the subsequent posts one person broke their leg and another busted their face on a tree. One of the girls got lost in the woods and died. It was a tragedy.
I made a list of who to question, if I needed to. What happened in that two-hour gap?
What could they have done to inspire so much wrath?
Fingers traced my collarbone to my shoulder in slow deliberate movements. The touch tickled and soothed in a way that didn’t match the way he’d bruised me in the woods. I almost leaned into the calm touch, but at the last second I jerked away when I regained my sanity.
Best I could tell he didn’t react, except to move close enough to touch my shoulder again. Unbothered by the rejection.
I pulled a lemon balm candle out of my bag, sat it on the table, and lit it with my lighter. The familiar soothing scent filled the room.
Be at peace.
My phone rang, and I gritted my teeth at the name flashing. I answered, ready for the verbal lashing coming.
“Sasha,” Esme’s voice rang in my ear with all the level of scolding only a mother could accomplish. The eldest had arrived. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“More than therapy can fix.”
“Why is your spineless, limp-dick husband calling me, to convince me you’ve lost the plot? You know I don’t like that motherfucker. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stick with trying to manipulate Willow.”
That was a weird move on his part. He didn’t like her either. I’d convinced myself it was because she came at him crazy. Now I realized it was because she sliced right through his facade. She didn’t cushion her words for anyone.
The lights on the wall flickered like they were irritated, before coming back on with a loud click.
“Are you okay?” I asked, eyeing the room cautiously. She was mimicking her normal fire. It wasn’t real. I could feel the difference in the flatness behind her words.
I recognized going through the motions.
“No,” she whispered. “Are you okay?”
Tears pricked my eyes. “No.”
His touch became more forceful, like he was trying to massage my pain away. At any point would this asshole tell me what he wanted? We both knew he could talk.
So why didn’t he?
“How about this?” She sniffled, but I could hear the goal-oriented woman who always put the next foot forward. “Finish the job and we both go home to recuperate."
The way she let home drag made it clear she didn’t mean our houses. She meant Aunt Jackie’s house. Willow’s house.
I nodded to myself. “Yeah.”
“You need anything?”
“What acts like a spirit, but isn’t one? Acts like a monster, but isn’t?”
Finally a soft amused chuckle vibrated around me. As if I’d never figure out how to kill him.
She went silent as she considered. Esme always knew. She was the fastest at identifying her opponent. “No clue. But I also recently found a blessing gone sour. Keep your mind open. Not everything is as simple as we’ve been taught.”
“A blessing? That’s a gnarly way to turn.” It didn’t sound like the makings of a monster, until I remembered most witches went insane with them. Esme included.
“Yep, and hard to kill.” I heard the ring of metal. “But not impossible.”
A creepy chuckle filled the line. A sound daring her to try. It sent a chill down my spine. The instinct of prey when a predator was near.
But all I heard was how her voice sounded almost normal as she threatened this monster. Like the Esme of before everything went to shit.
I blinked. Esme fell for the monster.
The great Rinah shame.
Not that we manufactured most of these things going bump in the night. No, that some of us fell for them. I rolled my eyes at the old judgment the elders passed.
All I cared about was that my cousin sounded like she’d make it through, instead of like she was mentally crawling over glass. She deserved anything that made her heart lighter.
It made me think of the way the shadow eyed me. The way he hovered. For a split second I let myself consider what it would be like for something so destructive and toxic to cement itself to my side.
A monster would never treat me like William did. They’d just eat me. At least I wouldn’t have to survive the fallout.
I shook that train of thought off. Don’t think like that.
The touches traveled down my arm as if he sensed where my thoughts were.
“I’ve got Willow on this, just thought you might have an idea.” I tapped on the table.
“You’re anxious.”
My fingers went limp on the table. “I got my ass handed to me last night.”
Static filled the line for a moment before I finally heard her, “Need backup? I can change course.”
I thought about the suicides plaguing the town. Especially the one from earlier. “No. It’s mostly my pride that’s wounded.”
Esme was barely holding on. She didn’t need another reason. I couldn’t lose her right now. Or the thread I was desperately holding onto would snap.
“I am tired, though. I need to get some sleep.”
“Call me if you need me.” There was a long pregnant pause. “Instead of setting your house on fire or something crazy.”
My shadow tilted its head to the side even though I hadn’t moved. As if it was curious about what I’d done.
Heat filled my face. “You had cameras in my house?”
“Of course, I did.” She scoffed.
“Before or after?” Shame wove through me. What did she know?
“I didn’t tell Willow. I’ll let you do that,” she answered my unspoken question without the judgement that I expected. I pulled a memory from those hazy moments.
When I tried to call nine-one-one, but I’d been struggling, because the tea had already taken effect. I thought I’d succeeded with pure luck. “You called the ambulance.”
That was why they’d gotten there so fast.
“I love you.” Every word was laced with a reassuring truth I needed.
Esme had lied to Willow, pretending to search for me when she knew where I was the whole time. My other ride or die.
“I love you.” I sniffled and hung up.
With that, I went to bed, elevating my leg. Tomorrow would be a big day.