Chapter 2 #2
“He did find one that worked. Everything got worse after that. Everything got so much worse. He brought something here. Summoned some thing.”
Her revelation strikes at my holy-sealed heart. Years of religious conditioning push the words from my mouth before I can properly absorb what she’s said. “Reverend Statton wouldn’t. That’s witchcraft. The devil’s work. It’s against everything he stands for.”
She gives me a sad smile, and the emotion that’s broken through begins to fade. “You’ll see things clearly soon enough. I just hope it won’t be too late for you, too.”
“Alesia, you’re unwell. Let us get you home to rest. I’ve new apples for a pie. Come.” I offer her my hand.
That cold, vacant, dead look returns to her eyes. Chills prickle along my arms beneath my flowing sleeves. In this moment, she’s a stranger.
“Leave. I do not blame you for not wanting to see what comes next.” Alesia turns her back to me and re-ascends the town square’s wooden platform.
My stomach twists as I take the dirt path home.
‘ Coward ,’ the voice in my head jeers. She seemed so convinced.
But there are no such thing as demons. Well, there are.
But they’re sent to test you and corrupt you.
That doesn’t sound like Reverend Statton.
The knots in my stomach tighten as I think of all the recent whispers pertaining to him and his proclivities.
I always assumed those rumors were spread to test us.
To strengthen our bond to the church and our leader when we ignored them and stayed true to our righteous paths.
What if the whispers were true?
The cool of the doorknob is jarring against my hot, sweaty palm.
Though our humble home welcomes me, I find little comfort in its familiar walls.
The autumn chill has seeped into my bones.
Tending to the fire, I try not to think about Alesia’s accusations or what may be happening now.
I sit on the couch, working on my latest knitting project.
It’s a blanket large enough for both Leed and I.
Or it will be when I finish it. Come winter, we’ll be properly married and snuggled up beneath it.
I’m distracted as I work, causing error after error in my knitting. Eventually I give up. Pulling the half-finished blanket up to my chin, I curl up on the couch and close my eyes.
Leed storms through the front door, jolting me from my fireside nap. He kneels before our bible on the kitchen table, speaking quick, quiet words. Our cabin is dark, the fire gone cold. It’s nighttime? I must have been asleep for hours.
There are voices outside. Torches pass by our windows.
“What has happened?” I pull the blanket tighter around me.
Leed’s voice is excited as he speaks. “Reverend Statton has discovered a witch.”
My stomach plummets. “How? Who?”
“I’ll tell you on the way. He’s requiring all of the townsfolk to attend the trial. Come, quickly. Grab your shawl. We venture to the western woods.”
I’ve barely wrapped my shoulders before Leed drags me out the door. Cold air burrows into my lungs. We follow a steady stream of our friends and neighbors, the trail of torches guiding our way. My anxiety heightens with every step.
“Leed,” I whisper. “Who is it? Who’s the witch?” Please don’t be her.
“Alesia. She told all manner of lies about Reverend Statton and attacked him with dark magic. The Lord showed him her true nature and protected him from her spell.”
“She attacked him? Alesia wouldn’t. Leed, she said things. Earlier today… I spoke with her after church. There are rumors about Reverend Statton.”
His grip on my hand tightens. “Doubting Reverend Statton means doubting the Lord himself. It is a sin even to consider such rumors.”
I’m taken aback. Leed has heard the whispers too. Is it common knowledge amongst the townsfolk? Has Reverend Statton been acting despicably while everyone brushes the rumors off as nonsense?
There is already a crowd when we arrive at the hanging tree.
I thought this place was a myth. The haunted woods and the hanging tree.
A spooky bedtime story. The tree in question is more than twice the size of any other tree in the forest. Its branches are gnarled and black.
I’m not even sure what kind of tree it is.
Standing on a barrel atop a hastily raised platform at the base of the trunk, is a heartbreaking sight.
Alesia. She’s nearly unrecognizable. Her dark hair has been shorn so close to her head that thick, bloody gashes have been left behind on her scalp.
The left side of her jaw is purple and jutting out at an angle.
One eye is swollen completely shut. A crudely braided rope rests upon her thin neck.
Reverend Statton ascends the platform, torch in hand. The crowd cheers as he removes his cross, raising it to the sky. All I can think of when I see that cross are the markings on Alesia’s thighs.
“Residents of Sleepy Hollow. There has been a wolf in sheep’s clothing, lurking in our midst.” Reverend Statton’s voice commands everyone’s attention.
“God has found us in need of testing. Our faith, your faith as my disciples, has been found lacking. He’s allowed a witch into our community, wicked and wanting.
She’s come to condemn us, to spoil our soils and seal our fates so that we burn in the fires of hell for all eternity. ”
Gasps of shock and several screams fill the cold night air. Leed’s fingers dig into my shoulder as he pulls me closer.
Reverend Statton lifts his hands. “Never fear. Follow my lead and I will deliver you to salvation. We will rid ourselves of the witch and any she may have corrupted.”
A commotion erupts from the crowd as Alesia’s brother, Jonathan, rushes the platform. “Alesia!” His voice cracks. “Free her. Please. She is innocent!” he cries out.
Reverend Statton’s face darkens. A hint of something yellow flicks across his gaze. What was that?
“You would side with a witch over your God?”
“My sister is no witch. This is all a coverup for your sins. I saw things. Alesia told me of your wicked—”
“Gag him before he can spew any more lies,” Reverend Statton commands.
The men around Jonathan are quick to subdue him, wrapping his hands in rope and his face with a cloth.
“Now lock him up so that he may think on his sins. He needs time away from the witch. Distance will free him of her influence.” The same yellow glow flickers across Statton’s eyes.
Jonathan is dragged away, his muffled screams following him as he disappears from the forest.
“Let us delay this no further. She has already corrupted one soul. We must put her to death before she can infect any others.”
A hooded figure moves in behind Alesia, yanking hard and tightening the rope around her neck.
Alesia cries harder. She tries to speak. Her words are impossible to understand. Her mouth shifts to the right each time she attempts to open it. It dawns on me that she is unable to communicate due to the severity of her injuries. They broke her jaw. That’s why it’s purple and unnaturally set.
Still, she fights to be heard. No words come out. Her final moments are spent unable to express herself. Is she begging for help or forgiveness? We’ll never know. They’ve stolen her voice. Ensuring she can’t share Reverend Statton’s secrets. Not even in death.
I wish to look away, but my guilt compels me to watch.
The crowd is silent in her final moments.
Maybe my mind has become too numb to accept their cheers and praises.
I don’t hear Reverend Statton’s words as he gives the order.
I don’t hear the barrel as it’s kicked out from beneath her bare feet and sent tumbling off the platform.
All I hear is the sharp snap as Alesia’s body drops those precious few feet.
Her tears abruptly stop.
Mine begin.
“My faithful flock.” Reverend Statton’s voice draws my gaze away from the slow swinging of Alesia’s lifeless body. “Things are more dire than I realized. It is time for us to ascend, together. Join me in the church for an emergency sermon. I have much to tell you.”
Church? At this time of night? I don’t want a lecture on morals and religion right now. I need to get away from the crowd and back to the silence of my own space. I can’t think clearly with the energy of so many others pressing in around me.
But there’s no way I can miss an emergency sermon. What would the others think—what would be said?
The crowd speaks in whispers as we cram into the pews.
It’s not usually dark when we attend service.
The candlelight casts shadows upon the stained glass, twisting its usual beauty in something…
other. Truths become all too obvious if you’re willing to open your eyes and see through the darkness of lies.
I have a feeling we’re about to be fed a lie so grand, our stomachs will burst.
How is it every ounce of my faith has been stripped away in one night? When that noose pulled tight around Alesia’s neck, it ripped my blindfold off. Something is very wrong with our town.
“A shocking eve.” Reverend Statton shakes his head as he addresses the group. “But in this time of fear and confusion, I offer you clarity. Divine clarity.”
“Show us the way!” someone shouts.
My eyes are swollen from crying. I squint in the darkness, trying to decipher which faithful fool has called out.
Reverend Statton smiles, but something about the set of his jaw, the tightness of his cheeks, makes my skin crawl. “Some months ago I was visited by a being.”
My whole body goes rigid. He’s going to admit his part in this. If he tells us of his demon, the church will turn their backs on him.
“An angel has reached out its holy hand to me. Not fallen or cast out like Lucifer. This angel has chosen to leave the blinding white of heaven behind and walk among us sinners, with the sole wish of guiding humanity toward a righteous path. His name is Itrimort.”
I’ve never heard of an angel called Itrimort. The name is echoed in whispers around the church.
“I have gifted him my body as a vessel these past couple of months.”
Months? The chatter around the church increases.
Reverend Statton raises a hand to quiet us. “I wanted to tell you the moment Itrimort entered our world, but it is only now that I was given permission to share his name and purpose.”
My thoughts turn back to Alesia. What angel would encourage the murder of an innocent woman? Certainly not the angels I’ve read about. Not the ones we’ve been taught to idolize our entire lives.
“He says now, you are ready to ascend.”
An excited buzz spreads through the pews. What is going on? How can people believe this as truth?
“With Itrimort guiding our path, we will cast those with dark energies out of Sleepy Hollow. Finding and removing witches is our first step toward cleansing our great town. Will you help me in this most holy task?”
Hands lift high as people murmur their agreements. Some are crying with smiles on their faces. Others openly pray.
“In Itrimort’s name!” Reverend Statton raises his fist in the air.
“In Itrimort’s name,” the crowd repeats.
His speech ends with the familiar singsong “amen” that always concludes our services.
What in the world did I just witness?