Page 77 of Dead End

I could see my mother's and father’s graves from my perch on the top of the hill. They were less than thirty paces away, and when I squinted, I realized that was exactly where another source of light was emanating from. There were black pillar candles scattered around the base of my parents' headstones and a pewter bowl between them. An athame rested atop the stone, gleaming in the flickering light.

A shadow moved in my peripheral vision, and I stiffened. The crunch of the soil underfoot was slow and deliberate. That shadow quickly became a man, and his face was inches from mine in less than a heartbeat.

“Mayor Ichabod?” I breathed in disbelief, my eyes going wide. “What are you—”

“What am I doing here?” he sneered with a slow, creepy smile. “I find it adorable that you even have to ask.” His laugh was slimy, and there was something strange about his face that I couldn’t put my finger on.

“What do you want from me? Why am I here?” My voice came out in a whisper as panic took hold of me, making it hard to draw in a proper breath.

He laughed again, and it made my stomach roll. Stepping backwards into the moonlight, I could see that he was bare-chested under an open white frilly dress shirt, and down the front of his torso was a bleeding wound that dripped down his abdomen. It didn’t look deep, but it looked self-inflicted, if the bloody athame in his hand had anything to do with it.

“Calvin, you never told me she’s as stupid as she is pretty.” His eyes were staring at me a little too close for comfort, then they shifted off to the side for a moment, and my blood boiled. So Cal was still here.

I saw movement from beside Ichabod, and my breath caught as three familiar clowns moved into position at the cemetery gates in the distance. Each of them I recognized as the ones from outside that motel on the first night. They were dressed in their usual jumpsuits and were twirling around blunt-force weapons and machetes in their meaty hands. Payton’s family was here.

Through the fog covering the ground came a shadow skipping into the clearing, pigtails bobbing on the side of her head. Red lips pulled in a sinister smile spread wide, past the point of normal. A bristle of fabric, and Payton appeared next to my parents’ headstone as she waved her pom-poms, little sharp knives embedded into the shiny material around them. Payton’s eyes met mine, and she swirled around, her cheerleading skirt billowing around her legs as she started to dance in place like she was at a prep rally. She was fucking crazy.

“Gimme an M!” she squealed. “Gimme an O.R.T.A.L!” she added with a chuckle and a shake of her pom-poms. “So I can kill her!” Payton cheered dramatically, laughing like she would never stop. A screw had to be loose in that head of hers.

A woman was right there on her heels, wearing a Society cloak, and I recognized her immediately as Payton’s mother. They looked nearly identical, but her mother somehow held more hatred in her purple eyes, which were aimed right at me. Unless she was staring at Ichabod, then she seemed entranced and besotted.

“You didn’t think I brought you all the way out here without a little backup, did you?” Ichabod asked, gesturing to Payton’s family, who grinned with the same fucking smile.

I quirked a defiant brow. “That’s a really weird way to say you have a small dick.”

Nice one, October. Now he’s going to make it hurt.

His grin dropped instantly, like a switch was flipped, and he approached the bars with a maniacal gleam in his eyes. “You’re just like your father with that mouth of yours.”

“Is that why you dragged me all the way out here?” I laughed, pretending to be braver than I was, but it sounded hollow to my own ears. “You had a crush on my mother twenty years ago, and you still can’t get over the fact that you lost to my dad?” My eyes flickered over his face, unimpressed, just to piss him off. “It’s becoming clear she chose right.”

“How dare you! Take that back. He is the most wonderful, most handsome, and most powerful warlock to ever exist, you bitch!” Payton’s mother screeched with outrage, but I only rolled my eyes at her.

She was a fucking lovestruck idiot who couldn’t see how she was never going to get a chance with that loon.

“Righhhhttt. How could I be so stupid?” Sarcasm was heavy in my voice, and it was probably going to get me killed.

“You little b—” Ichabod hissed, his eyes murderous.

“Father!” came Cal’s voice from behind my stone cage. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him as if he were right next to me. “It’s time to start the ritual.”

“What ritual, you sick fuck?” I watched in horror as Ichabod backed away. “What ritual!” I screamed, pounding desperately against the stone. “My family is going to tear you to fucking pieces when they find out!” I threatened, and I knew they would.

“You have a lot of faith in your lovers, Miss Hallowell, but you’d be wrong, of course. See, right now, I have one of my associates keeping them distracted for me.” Dread pooled once more, and he laughed again, holding out his athame to his side. “Don’t fret, my dear. I won’t be needing you for long, just long enough to complete the ritual. Then we can bury you six feet under, just like dear old daddy.” He pointed down the hill, and it was then that I saw the freshly dug grave.

Fuck, I’m going to die.

Calvin appeared around the side of my coffin and took the athame from his father’s hands, making it a point to avoid my glare, but I hissed, “Fuck you, Calvin. We treated you like a friend. We welcomed you into our home. And Maddie—” I choked, my throat closing with the need to cry. I fought against it.

His head whipped towards me, and his amber eyes were blazing. “Don’t you bring her into this,” he snapped. “Just stand still and shut up, October.”

“Fuck you!” This time I literally spat right between the bars, but he took a step back and dodged it with a grimace.

“There’s no need to be feral,” Ichabod said. “And here I thought all you necromancers were uppity snobs just like David Grimm. I guess being raised among those savage mortals will do that to a young girl.” He clicked his tongue a few times. “Pity…”

“Ichabod, the moons...” Payton’s mother stepped forward with a pleading look on her face. She was carrying some kind of dark velvet bag, and she handed it to the mayor. Payton stood there watching me with a smug smile on her clown face, and I wanted nothing more than to break her teeth.

The moons, she’d said. I looked up, and sure enough, the two moons were moving closer together, nearly overlapping. I supposed this must be this world’s version of an eclipse. A blood moon eclipse. I surmised that Ichabod had been waiting for this night in particular because everyone who knew anything about even the most basic witchcraft knew that the power of the moon meant everything. The moon could control the tides and the blood in a body.

---