Hugo backed away, never taking his eyes off the ghastly image before him. “Liar. You stopped them.” His breathing intensified. “You did stop them, right?”
“They’re all dead. The Savinos won. They’re all coming to join you. Why did you have to do it, Hugo? Why did you get yourself turned into a vampire?” She reached out her arms, beckoning for him. “Why did you have to die?”
Hugo stumbled over the coffee table and fell to the floor with a thud. The ghastly image of Alice stood over Hugo. The black ichor poured down her face like tears. It dripped onto Hugo’s shirt. He tried to back away, but he was immobilized by fear and the pain coursing through his face. He let out an agonizing screech.
“Accept it, Hugo. It’s the only way to save them. Join me. Join us. We can save them all. Together.”
The weight of the mask held him to the ground. Pain ripped through him like fire. The black ichor splashed only inches from his face. Hugo turned his head to the side, trying to avoid it. He knew if the ichor touched his face, he might not be able to hold off the full transformation, and he would become a ghoulish creature.
“You aren’t real,” Hugo shouted. “This isn’t happening. You’re a phantom of my mind. Alice didn’t die. She’s too strong. Too powerful.”
“Are you certain?” Alice’s image asked. “Then why isn’t she rescuing you?”
What if she had failed? What if she gave in? What if his death drove her to handing the spell over to the Savinos, and they killed her? All because of him. All because he was impulsive. Reckless. One night in Sylvia’s Bistro set everything into motion, and this was the ultimate consequence for his action.
Emptiness overtook Hugo. They failed.He failed.He failed them all. There was nothing left. No hope. No one was coming. It was all over. All because of him. It finally made sense. Hugo wasn’t called because he was special. No. He was called because he left his friends, his family, his town in despair. Most importantly, he left his fiancée to wallow in sadness, and the vampires took it all. They won. They had to win. All because of his actions.
“So you were not strong enough after all,” Thaddeus said. “A pity. For what it is worth, I was pulling for you.”
The pain in his face subsided as the death mask took its form. His face was now covered in white, the visage of a skull. A tear rolled down his face and splashed onto the floor.
“It’s okay, Max,” Alice said.
Thaddeus shot out of his chair. “Who the hell is she?”
Hugo turned his head to see the ghostly, pulsating feet of someone sitting on the red velvet couch.
Alice’s image screeched an ear-piercing wail. It backed away, contorting its face. Hugo sat up, the weight of the death mask no longer holding him down. He snapped his attention to the couch.
It was Alice. She was still alive and was searching for him.
“Alice!” Hugo yelled with glee. “Alice, I’m here.”
Alice sat on the couch, but she didn’t acknowledge Hugo’s call. A ghostly form. A phantom. An image of her from the mortal realm, very much alive and well. She was scratchingsomething. Hugo couldn’t see his good buddy, but he knew she was there. They were both very much alive. Alice clutched one of his hockey sticks. The same hockey stick he had buried in the mattress. She found it. Alice knew he was here.
Hugo smiled as he sprung to his feet. “Alice,” he shouted once more. “Alice, can’t you hear me?”
“Next time. We’ll find Hugo next time.”
Find Hugo?They were searching for him. Alice was coming for him. She was going to rescue him. The contorted image of Alice—the one who tried to turn Hugo—screeched and wailed, then disappeared into the black nothingness of the shadows.
“Alice. Alice, I’m here,” he shouted as he moved toward her, his arm out to take her hand. It passed through.
He was unable to touch her.
“No!” Hugo shouted. “No. We’re so close. No. Alice, can you hear me? I’m here.” His voice was frantic.
After a moment, Alice stood and placed the hockey stick on the coffee table. Her phantom image disappeared.
Hugo shook his head. His heart sunk. He was so close. She was right there. He was alone once again. He curled his fingers and stared blankly at where Alice had once sat.
“That has never happened before,” Thaddeus said. “Who is she?”
Hugo turned to face Thaddeus. “She is the great witch of Newbury Grove, and she’s on her way to rescue me. And I’m going to greet her when she gets here.”
Hugo bolted through the living room and opened the front door.
“Wait!” Thaddeus yelled. “Don’t leave.”