Page 5 of Secrets in Salem: Part One

Suddenly, my hands are released from the board, and my body crashes hard to the floor, my side connecting with the harsh concrete beneath me. Still burning, skin blistering with sickening squelches and pops, the stench of sizzling flesh fills my senses. I heave, nausea churning the contents of my stomach. I can't breathe without inhaling the smell of fire, smoke, and the rancid stink of my own skin burning off my fucking body.

The grip on my heart tightens almost impossibly, drawing more pained gasps and a bone shattering scream from deep within. A warm, wet patch blooms onto my dress, expanding until I can feel the liquid seeping into every piece of the material down my front. I risk looking down, my movements jerky and unnatural, only to find my black dress darkened and shining under the moonlight with my own blood.

The invisible hand tightens once more, and my vision turns spotty, black flecks flickering in and out of my vision. Blurriness grows until I can’t see a single thing in front of me, my focus shifting until all I can fixate on is the pain lacing every cell of my body. My ears start ringing, and my consciousness wavers just as my body becomes numb until I can't move a single limb. I lie prone on the ground, not even my hair rustling around me. Not that I could feel or see it since the fire has no doubt burnt it away with my clothes. Everything just seems to eerily…stop.

Is this what death feels like? Surely, that’s what this is. A body doesn’t burn like this and live to tell the tale. No one could suffer through something like this and survive, so surely I’m at death’s door, ready for the Reaper to come take me to my final resting place or some shit like that. I never expected to die at twenty-five. What will my mom do without me? What about Cassie? Max and Molly? We're set to have dinner on Sunday. This can't be how it ends. I didn’t even get to see my best friend before leaving for the woods.

But even as those thoughts filter through my mind, I fuckingfeelmy life force slipping from my body and pooling onto the ground beneath me. It’s an uncomfortable sensation, unsettling and weird, but I can do nothing but lie here and wait for the end to come.

The pain slowly begins to fade, leaving a hollow emptiness in its wake. Through my dimming vision, I can still see the flickers of flames dancing around my inferno-kissed body. Warm blood seeps from the gaping wound in my chest, the pulsing agony now a distant echo that lingers on my skin.

I feel… well, empty.

I'm not sure how long I lie burning and bleeding, death looming on the near horizon. Everything around me grows hazy, taking on a dreamlike quality. The ringing in my ears fades enough for me to hear voices - male voices - speaking in hushed tones. I can’t tell what they’re saying or how near or far they are, only that they’re softly muttering with deep voices. My throat tightens just as I think to call for help. Not that it would help at all, my numb tongue stealing my ability to talk. Instead, I'm left to listen to a conversation I can't understand as my life slips through my fingers.

A sound much like the scuffing of shoes on stone reaches my eardrums, then the rustling of clothing as someone follows soon after. My head is too heavy for me to lift, resigning me to the ground, unable to see who could possibly be witnessing my death without doing a damn thing to save me. Or maybe they’ve just found me and are going to help? At any rate, I lie in a small puddle of my own blood, each blink lasting longer than its predecessor. Maybe they’ll save me in time.

My eyes flutter closed just as my body rolls until I'm lying on my badly burnt back. I don't feel the burst of pain that should accompany the move, but there’s an uncomfortable niggle that pushes through the numbness, blisters and burns that now mar my once unblemished spine pressing against the cobblestone. Pressure pushes down on my chest just before a sickeningcrackandsnapsounds out and the unpleasant feeling lifts. Just as quickly, I'm left floating in the emptiness that I've found myself in.

How did things go so very wrong? On a stupid quest to find answers, I've found my demise instead. I should never have touched the ouija board. I've seen horror movies and read enough spooky tales to know these things never end well. But I've never given in to the town's belief in the supernatural, never really thought anything like this would happen. I hardly believed I would get any answers at all tonight despite that small flicker of hope that had attached itself to my heart. And now I'm going to die for my naivety. My ridiculous, shitty hope and stupidity. Fuck.

A feverish hand suddenly cups my jaw, the touch breaking through my numbed armor. The hold is firm, jerking my thoughts right back to the situation at hand. My eyes are slow to open, gaze blurred when I manage to keep them open long enough. I'm forced to blink several times to push away the haze. When it finally dissipates long enough for me to see, my eyes meet a set of gray irises scarily similar to mine. The outer rim of this stranger's eyes are a dark gray, almost black, bleeding into the rest of the eyeball that isn’t as white as a normal person’s. The pupils are shaped like those of a cat, with dark circles surrounding the sockets. They're terrifying and otherworldly, yet weirdly familiar. It's likely because I've only ever seen one person before with the same eye color as my own, though they'd been more of a pale blue than gray.

I open my mouth, aiming to speak to the stranger, but only a rasp escapes my parted lips, my throat still tight. Gritting my teeth, I use way too much energy to push the words out, finally managing to rasp my question. "What are you?"

The stranger tilts its head, and the realization that I’m looking at a man dawns slowly. At least, I think it’s a man. He doesn’t look entirely ordinary. I'm almost positive I can see horns sticking out from his head, but I shake it off as my delusional mind failing me so close to death.

The man's creepy eyes bore into me, intense and unwavering. I don’t blink, afraid that if I close my eyes too long I’ll lose myself entirely. A peculiar cloudiness starts to muffle my senses, my mind slowly numbing to match the rest of my body. Just as I think that I'm going to die with yet another unanswered question, the man surprises me.

"The Devil,” he says with a growl.

The terrifying eyes of the stranger are the last things I see before my vision goes completely black without warning. Hushed mutterings by the men I heard before are the last things I hear before everything starts fading away. The last thought that flutters through my mind is,I wish I'd never asked.

***

Raindrops gently patter against my cheeks, a harsh breeze waking me from a deep, dreamless sleep. My eyes snap open, only to shut again when a heavier bout of rain drenches my face.

What the hell?

I slowly sit up, my body aching like I've been swimming for three hours without a warm up. As soon as I'm upright, I scan my surroundings. I'm still sitting in the belly of Hollow Grove, but I have no idea how I managed to pass out on the ground while the rain lashed at me. The last thing I remember is gathering everything I needed to communicate with my biological mother, yet I somehow fell asleep in the forest even while it rained.

Next to me are all the items I brought with me tonight: the ouija board, the planchette, chalk, candles, and... Wait, where's my photograph? Everything but the photograph is all stacked neatly beside me. I don’t remember doing that. Or… did I?

Looking around again, I catch a glint of glass from the corner of my eyes. I turn, my gaze stopping on the frame that used to hold my biological mother’s portrait. Not a foot beside it, is a burnt piece of paper. Lifting myself from the floor with more effort than should be necessary, I awkwardly crawl to the paper and scan it over. The photo is barely recognizable, but I know it's the photo of my mother. I know it like I know my own name. Gently flipping the paper over only confirms as much. There's the beginning of the note my mom left on the back for me, only a couple of words visible since the rest of the photo is charred beyond recognition. Sadness pools in my stomach. How did it burn? Did I accidentally burn it before I passed out? I don’t remember.

Sighing, disappointment weighing heavily on my shoulders, I drop the photo and watch the rain wash the ruined pieces away until it’s nothing but flakes of soaked ash on the cobblestone. The only and probably last remnant of the women who birthed me, destroyed. I’ll never get anything like that again.

Shaking my head while I go back to the neatly stacked items I woke next to, I gather them in my arms and stand with a grimace. The aches in my back make themselves more obvious with the movement, my body sore all over. Spotting my bag on the stone bench where I left it, I ignore the aches and pains and move quickly toward it, shoving everything inside without preamble. The only valuable thing I had has been washed away by the downpour, so it’s not like I have to be careful.

Rain is coming down faster now, and my clothes are already thoroughly soaked. My dress clings to my body like a second skin, my hat is missing, and my tights aren't faring too well either. Chub rub is no joke, so lingering in the rain where it’ll get worse the longer I stay out here isn’t exactly a grand idea. Not to mention the rain is so cold that my body begins to shiver, my teeth clattering together with the chill.

I rush toward my jacket, seeing it still neatly folded on the bench, and yank it on. It won’t do any good now, but it’ll at least keep me a little warm. I hook my bag over my shoulder and turn to leave Hollow Grove.

Just as I make to leave, a rustling noise sounds out behind me, deep in the thicket of trees. My head turns, but my body stays frozen where I stand. When the rustle sounds out again, only fainter this time, I turn my whole body in its direction, my head tilting to the left. The night sky doesn't provide any light, so I'm unable to see if anything is there.

I move a fraction closer, nerves and the wind causing my hand to shake terribly when I raise it to rest over my rapidly beating heart. I lean in closer to the forest, another rustle, deeper in the forest this time, setting the hairs on my arms upright. I’m sure I catch a flash of red and orange, a flash of dark fur, but it could be my mind playing tricks on me.

It’s then that another rustle on the opposite side has me whirling around with a startled yelp. Deciding it's best to get out of the pouring rain, I drop my hand and rush to the path that will lead me home. My footsteps are hurried, though something compels me to take one more look behind me. I turn my head in the direction I'd been searching, and my gaze finds three sets of eyes: red, orange, and blue. They're bright against the blackened forest, vibrant and hard to miss.

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