Page 52 of Light As A Feather
Slightly less grainy footage shows Hawthorne sitting in a chair this time, the same one I was deposited in when I first arrived. In front of him is what appears to be a two-way mirror. A ring of salt encircles him.
“Is the timer set?” he asks someone who must be standing on the other side of it.
“Yes,” an echoing voice responds. A click of a speaker. “Hawthorne, be careful.” Genuine concern adds heft to the warning.
“You know me,”Hawthorne responds with a smirk before rubbing his hands on his pants. “All right, let’s get started.”He rolls his neck and shoulders.
My heart skips a beat as silver gleams in his hand. Zooming, I confirm my fears as he raises the knife and places it to his sternum. His lips move, but I can’t hear anything. Crushing the button beneath my thumb violently, I turn the volume all the way up. Even then, it’s just mumbling.
I might not understand what he’s saying, but the knife tearing through his flesh speaks clearly enough as he opens himself up.
“No, no, no. Don’t do that,” I mumble uselessly.
His agonized groaning as he injures himself overrides any comfort that the past-dated timestamp should provide.
“Thorne, what the fuck?” Two voices bellow over the speaker. Seconds later, Jayden rushes into the room.
“Don’t,” Hawthorne huffs with great effort. “Don’t break the circle.” His words become inaudible again.
The other man paces while chewing away at his fingernails. A “fuck” uttered every so often as Hawthorne resumes his mumbling.
As the minutes pass, his voice escalates with his frustration. “Come on, you fucking coward. Come back.”
I barely register the words he growls as I watch the blood drip down his abdomen. The life essence of the most precious person in my life, leaking wastefully onto the ground. Each drop is a tolling bell that urges on my worry.
“Come on,” Thorne yells, now digging his fingers into the long vertical cut. “I’m offering you a deal.”
My stomach drops, the insinuation of his words, a cannonball sinking me into the depths of my fear.
“Hawthorne, there are only two minutes left. Just stop, it’s not going to work.” The man behind the mirror insists reasonably.I could kiss him for his levelheadedness.
“I can’t. This has to work,” Thorne argues. “If I can prove that I can control him, she’ll see it’s safe to come back. Just give me the—” The thought ends abruptly as he starts to shake. Even in the dull light, the sheen on his brown skin is visible from how his body is exerting itself.
My leg jiggles up and down with anxiety as horror unfolds on the screen. The tips of fingers emerge from the walls, then hands, then arms as they reach toward Hawthorne. Some have their palms turned up, a request, while others claw at the wallpaper and twist with anguish.
Hawthorne pays no attention to them, focused on whatever he’s muttering under his breath. But then he starts choking, his hands reaching for his throat, eyes bulging, features taut in pain. Something moves in his throat, the tissue swelling and shifting unnaturally.
No.
Unable to believe what I’m seeing, I lean closer to the screen. I’m not mistaken; there’s something in there, forcing its way up, up, up.
His mouth opens in a scream, but only gargled sounds come out. Farther and farther, his lips part. His body thrashes while he battles it out with whatever’s found its way inside him. Hawthorne contorts, his back bending around the top of the chair, then slumps forward.
Jayden runs over, pushing him back into a sitting position. His fingers press against Hawthorne’s pulse. Even though I know he’s alive and well today, I’m on edge waiting for the verdict.
“Hawthorne, wake up.”His other hand pushes his curls back tenderly.“Come on, please. Please, please, please.”Hisdesperation matches mine as I maim my palm with digging nails. “Wake up,” he cries out, slapping his cheek.
That gets a reaction.
Hawthorne’s head snaps up, but he’s not quite there. All that shows are the whites of his eyes as his mouth twitches into a smile.“Hawthorne’s not here right now,” the entity states plainly.Taking a wet, ragged breath, Hawthorne’s mouth opens wide, and through it comes screaming—loud and wrong and powerful. It’s no longer just one voice. It’s dozens. Then hundreds.
Slapping my palms over my ears, I try to muffle the horrific sound. Jayden does the same in the video as he backs away from Hawthorne.
The screaming continues growing louder and louder, his mouth opening wider and wider until what appears to be dozens of fingers fight to reach out from behind his teeth. Greedily, they grab and pull and reach until blood starts seeping from the corner. Skin splits, a gruesome display as they hold control over him. It continues, going on for far too long until nearly half the right side of his face is torn.
I cover my mouth, a choked sob escaping me.
Jayden holds one hand under his chin, trying to force his mouth shut, the other on top of his head.“Wake up. Come back to me right fucking now. You’re not going to let them do this to you, do you fucking hear me?”Shaking with effort, tears running down his face, he finally gets it to shut.“Hawthorne!” he screams in his face, losing all hope.
