Page 26 of Secrets in Salem: Part One

I slowly back away, observing the pretty scene before me with delight. A sense of purpose fills me, knowing I've made the world a better place, ridding the streets of this scum. They can't infect others with their pollution.

"You'll fucking pay for this, you bitch!" one screams through gritted teeth.

My eyes narrow , and I take another step backward, eyeing them like a mountain lion would a deer. Their helpless cries for mercy tickle my spine as a power builds in my chest. The sensation trails down my arms, warm and pulsing. Once more, I find it entirely too familiar, some niggling in my mind telling me this isn’t a new feeling. Strange.

Without much thought, I raise my arms and find them covered in flames. They dance over my blackening flesh, my skin splitting to make way for an orange glow that looks much like lava would. The pain is absent, and somewhere in the back of my mind I should know that shouldn't be possible, but the enticing whimpers coming from my prey distract me.

Grinning at the four men who thought they could hurt me, I tell them, "And you will pay for your sinsnow. Mercy is given to the pure from the righteous. Pain is given to the impure from the damned."

I wink before darting toward them quicker than a human could even comprehend, stopping in front of the human in the middle. With reflexes too fast to avoid, my arm swings upward, slamming my hand into his chest and easily finding his poisonous heart. Gripping the thundering organ in my hand, I watch as the fire wrapping my arms glides down, into the human's chest to burn his heart to ash. I feel it wither away, flecks of ash falling through my fingers.

I wrench my hand back, my palm coming away with a small pile of black dust, only to repeat the process three more times until their bodies lay motionlessly on the floor, leaning against the wall with widened eyes and parted mouths. Ash covers my entire hand, the remains of their foul hearts tattooed over my skin like a brand. Their deaths taste smoky and delicious, filling my body with satisfaction.

Moving away from the bodies at my feet, the flames pull back. My skin absorbs the fire. I draw it closer and closer, bending at my waist when the heat suddenly becomes unbearable, as though my skin suddenly can't handle as much as it had.

A scream pierces the air, raising the hairs on my arms and at the back of my neck. It's then I realize it's mine when I see my own skin reddening before turning black.

My vision flickers, the haze fading along with the red tint.

Everything grows blurry, my mind becoming disoriented as the power fades from my body.

With the last lick of flames, fatigue seeps into my body and I fall to my knees. I wobble for a moment before the world begins to tilt as my body completely collapses to the floor. My wide eyes meet those of the dead men against the wall before everything once again goes black.

Chapter 14

Willow

Blinking myeyes open, I groan long and hard, my body sore all over. Even my hair feels like it's hurting.

Grunting, I turn over to get comfortable but instantly know something isn't right. What should be a comfortable bed and soft comforter over me is a hard surface instead. Rolling over again and gritting my teeth through the pain it causes, I realize I'm lying on the wooden floor in the downstairs hallway. How the hell did I get here?Whyam I here?

A breeze floats around me, chilling me to the point that goosebumps break out over my skin. I grit my teeth as a shiver wracks my body, and, when I tilt my head to the left, I find the source. Through bleary eyes, I see the front door is open wide, welcoming the chilly night air inside. It's still dark? What time is it?

It takes some time for the haze in my vision to clear. As soon as it does, my mouth drops open in absolute horror. Forcing my body to move through the pain, I push myself up until I'm on my knees. Now sitting on the heels of my feet, I look around. The floor where I'd been lying is blackened and charred, clearly burnt. The walls haven't fared any better, the wallpaper ruined and falling away in scorched pieces. Everything looks like it's been set on fire, though surely I’d know about a fire in my house while I’m inside the fucking thing, right?

My throat closes tightly, sorrow and heartache choking me when I take a look at the ruined remains of my home. But that’s not what has tears springing to my eyes. That would be the dead bodies at the end of the hallway.

Lying against the wall, eyes open and mouths parted in silent screams, they stare at me. Four men with blistered and burnt holes in their chests, blood dripping steadily from the wounds and ash littering the ground around them.

I'm going to be sick.

Scrambling up, I ignore the ache in my limbs and clumsily back away from the bodies, stumbling backward until I'm no longer even in the house. I turn around and heave until I throw up what little I'd eaten the day before. Bent at the waist, I try to breathe through the panic and horror, disgust turning my stomach frantically. Tears stream steadily down my cheeks, leaving scalding tracks on my overheated skin. What the hell happened? Who did that?Why are there dead bodies in my fucking house?!

I raise my hands to wipe off my face only to find them covered in ash and dried blood. The same ash that surrounded the dead men in my house. The same blood…? No. That's not right. I couldn't have done that. I wouldknowif I murdered four people who intruded on my home.Right?At least, I think I would. Things aren’t looking promising since my clothes are burnt and barely hanging onto my body, scraps of material only just covering the essentials. Where I can see skin, there's nothing but debris from the burnt floor, ash, and I’m pretty sure that’s more blood. I’m not bleeding. At least I don’t think I am. Which would mean…no.

Anxiety begins to suffocate me, panic gripping my chest in its iron-like hold. I look at my hands with wide eyes, a sick feeling churning in my stomach. They begin to shake as more tears cloud my vision and I fall to the ground, my knees scraping against the unforgivingly rough stone beneath me.

The chill in the night air begins to turn colder, making my body tremble harder than before. I welcome the icy bite of the air as it brushes my hair against my soiled skin, welcoming the deep shudder my body makes when the cold sinks down to my bones. It distracts me only momentarily while I try and fail to come up with theories about the dead bodies in my house that don’t include my involvement.

Tears continue to fall as I look on helplessly, my eyes seeing absolutely nothing before me. Flashes of the dead men cross my vision, repeatedly and relentlessly replaying in my mind. Their empty eyes, their parted mouths, pale, sickly skin. The images keep sparking in my head until I can't take it anymore.

I grip the sides of my head, not caring that my skin is covered in the remains of things I’d rather forget than even think about. Bending until my back hunches almost painfully, I scream through clenched teeth, thankful in this moment that my house is far enough away from the others that the noise could be mistaken for a squawking raven. I release all of my panic and terror in that one outburst, my head feeling like it might explode at any second.

Screaming until my throat is raw and scratchy, I fall to the ground once more, my body losing the fight to stay upright. My aching limbs protest against any movement at all, but I ignore it, having too little energy to give it much more attention. The bitter chill of the stone beneath me sends another body-wracking shiver soaring through me, and I curl in on myself. I clutch my hands to my stomach and draw my knees up to my chest, making myself as small as I can while my tears drip onto the stone in soft splatters.

I have no idea how long I lie on the ground crying, but by the time I realize I need to get up and do something about the dead bodies and my burnt house, I start to almost feel numb. It’s only the cold that’s buried so deep under my skin that I don't think I'll ever be rid of it that keeps me grounded. Keeps me awake enough for my mind to torture me with the what ifs of the evening.

The sky is still dark, the twinkling stars above mocking me and my despair. Trees sway gently in the wind, the crunching and skittering of leaves scraping over the sidewalks and roads the only thing to be heard in the otherwise quiet street. The silence is eerie, but I welcome it with open arms, grateful for any kind of distraction.

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