Chapter 5
“The Young and the Hungry”
The girls were eating lunch when Annie mentioned, “Nobody tried to get in so I guess that hag didn’t see us.”
“I guess not.”
“I wish your dad didn’t leave us like this.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you still think he’ll come back?”
“I never said he’d come back. I said he might.”
“Why do you think he left us?”
“I don’t know, Annie.”
“Are you okay?”
Grace shrugged. “I just want to go home.”
“Me too.”
A hag squeezed a struggling man to her bosom and bit into the side of his neck! The victim shrilled! The hag ripped open his jugular, chewed and swallowed. She shrieked with delight, her mouth wet with blood!
The two girls cringed at hearing the bloodcurdling cackle. Annie fearfully blurted, “They’re still out there!”
“Quiet!” Grace whispered, “If they hear you, they’ll come in here.”
“No!”
“Annie.” Grace cuddled her trembling friend, “They don’t know we’re here.”
Annie quavered, “Why won’t they go away?”
“They will.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” The girls held each other tight... and waited. They did not know what was happening outside... nor did they want to.
“I hope your dad comes back.”
Grace was surprised by a sudden sense of dread. It was not the hags she was afraid of; it was... him. She could feel him looking for her.
John watched two hags drag a man across the street by his ankles. The victim’s eyes were wide open and his face still wincing, his mouth open as if screaming silently in death. Blood was leaking from his torn neck, leaving a red trail no one would care to follow. “So that’s what you’d do to me.” Mr. Elderberry smirked at the dead man, “Better you than me.” John shook his head, “No.” He patted the bullet in his pocket, “If it comes to it, I won’t live long enough to believe what I just said.”
John followed the two hags. He had something to prove.
The one corpulent, hideous, wicked creature rasped to the other, “We should have asked him if he was hiding children.”
“Why? He wouldn’t have told us.”
“That’s why we’d persuade him.” The two cackled.
Grace and Annie were playing cards when Annie wondered, “What do we do if your dad doesn’t come back?”
“I don’t know.” Grace did not want to mention to her friend that they were almost out of food. They would soon have no choice but to return to the streets of this scary town. “But I think we’ll be okay.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because we always are, right?”
“Yeah,” Annie hoped but doubted.
A hag staggered and gagged, clutching her bleeding throat. Behind her, John was on top of another one, stabbing her and twisting his knife repeatedly! The man shouted, “Where are you going?!” The hag with the cut throat stumbled and writhed. “Die slow, you ugly hag!” John laughed, as if his comment was the funniest joke ever.
Mr. Elderberry got up and leaned over the dead man. “Don’t look so glum: You’ve been avenged.” John patted the corpse’s cheek then left the scene.
“No.” John sobbed and choked, “No!” He dropped to his knees and shouted, “I did the right thing!” He wept bitterly. “I did the right thing.” He patted the bullet in his pocket. “I will do the right thing. I swear it.”
Grace and Annie lied on their sides, staring at each other. They giggled. Grace reached over and poked her friend in the nose. “Why did you do that?”
“I wanted to see if you’d cross your eyes.”
John watched a young, slender blond woman lead six plump hags across a street. She carried the black rod with the “hands” at the ends. The hags each wielded a punching dagger. The blond stopped and gestured for her hags to spread out, as if in search. John wondered, “Are you looking for me now or are you still looking for Grace?” He stalked one of the hags.
“Are we going to still sleep here tonight?”
“Probably,” Grace answered Annie. “Nobody’s found us here, so I guess this place is safe... for now.”
“I think it’s safe.” Annie mumbled, “Safer than out there.” She mentioned, “My mom probably called your mom and asked why we didn’t show up.”
“Probably.”
“They probably called the police.”
“Yip.”
Annie hoped, “Do you think the police might come here?”
“They might.”
“I hope they do.”
John was on top of a struggling hag. He snapped her face past her own shoulder! “Yes,” he gasped. His victim convulsed underneath him. “Very good. That felt right.” When the hag went limp, John chuckled and uttered, “Oops! I didn’t ask her any questions. I guess I’ll have to go grab another one.” John did feel good. Never before had he ever felt so strong, vigorous... or alive. “Yes,” he panted. His mind swirled with euphoria! His heart pounded with excitement! All was confusion yet all seemed so clear!
He found and snatched another hag... and snapped her neck. He stalked and pounced another... and squeezed the life out of her.
“What’s wrong?” Annie asked. Grace was pale and shaking.
“Huh?”
“Grace?” Annie held her friend close. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know, but I feel... really sick.”
“You’re cold.” Annie grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around poor Grace.
John happened upon another hag. She saw him! She raised her punching dagger, mumbling and the red crystal glowed. She jabbed at the air before her. The man felt a sting in his heart, as if stabbed! He drew his pistol and blasted the hag! She shook, winced and staggered back then dropped.
“Did you hear that?” Annie asked Grace. “Maybe it’s your dad. Maybe he’s still trying to find us.”
“Yeah.”
John ran away. He knew the priestess and hags would answer the sound of his gunfire. His heart ached horribly! Whatever spell the hag cursed him with, it hurt and nearly killed him! “Rot and bloat like the rest of them, you ugly bitch.”
Later that day: The red glow of sunset cast long shadows within the front of the furniture outlet. Grace was asleep back in the office while Annie dared to peek out the front windows. All seemed and felt calm and quiet... for now.
Grace felt as if she were hidden within the company of several older, severe personalities. “Forgive me, Your Holiness,” she heard the Teacher.
“Forgive you?” asked the rich voice of an older man. “Your duty is to enlighten the gifted young with the knowledge of the mystical arts. You were never supposed to raise your own, personal following. The school is not about you, Felix Blackthorn. It is about teaching our faith. What you have done is abuse your holy vocation so as to raise your own apostate cult.”
“Your Holiness, that’s not true.”
“Not true? Your students won’t even speak to us without your expressed permission!”
“Your Holiness, I didn’t teach them that.”
“For all intents and purposes, they revere you.”
“Your Holiness, only as their teacher. I’ve made no effort to win their loyalty as anything else.”
“Felix, you’ve neglected the Culling. Not only do you retain those who succumb, you teach them regardless! Only the elect are to be retained! The forsaken only sink deeper into madness and depravity.”
“Your Holiness, forgive me, but I can’t bring myself to condemn my students to die. They’re so young and vulnerable. If they are weak then it is my responsibility, as their teacher, to help them overcome their weakness.”
“Responsibility? The Culling o
f the Gifted is not a mere, archaic tradition, Felix. It is a Teacher’s obligation. The teaching of the Mystery inspires either wisdom or depravity. A student is either enlightened... or darkened. All of us come to the fork in the road– and we take one way or the other: You know this! You’ve been taught. You’ve known all your life!”
“Felix,” a soft, warm, womanly voice addressed him. “I know it’s hard for you. It was for every Teacher (and always will be). It was for me. It hurt, but I had faith. Our willingness to sacrifice is the ultimate test of our conviction. Have faith and be strong. Know that sometimes even the young must die. I’m sorry. Please understand why such horrible things are necessary.”
A man assured, “As your Elders, we want what is best for you... and your students. This Council doesn’t want to condemn you.”
His Holiness reminded, “But we will do what is right. If you are to be punished, it is because you have done wrong.”
“Wrong?” Felix challenged. “We abduct children and indoctrinate them.”
“Blasphemy!” the older man accused.
“It is not blasphemy,” the maternal voice assured, “if it is true.”
His Holiness insisted, “We do not abduct children.”
“No,” the maternal voice seemed to smirk, “not usually, but strange how things happen to work out as they do.”
Grace could feel the older man’s embarrassment.
John risked going into houses in search of food and drink. He found what he was looking for. He also acquired trinkets, a flashlight and batteries and a new backpack in which to carry it all. He then barricaded himself within a bedroom and went to sleep for the night.
Morning: Grace opened her eyes and saw the smiling face of Annie. The friend asked, “Are you feeling better?” Grace nodded. “Good. You look better this morning, too.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s foggy outside.”
“I’m not surprised.”
Annie hoped, “Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah.”
“You were asleep for a very long time.”
“I needed it.”
“Did you have any more dreams?”
“Yeah.”
“Well?”
“His name is...,” Grace tried to remember.
Annie asked, “The Teacher?”
“Yeah. Felix. Yeah, his name is Felix Blackthorn.”
“That sounds like the name of an evil dork.”
Grace giggled, “Yeah, it does.”
“Did he say anything to you?”
“No. He was talking to some other people. I think they were old and important.”
“Who were they?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did they say anything?”
“Yeah. Felix was in trouble, because he didn’t do what he was supposed to.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. His students liked him too much and he was supposed to kill them if they had problems.”
“Problems?”
“Yeah. What he teaches makes you wise or it makes you evil. He was supposed to kill the ones who were turning evil.”
“Isn’t he evil?”
“You would think he is, but I’m not sure.”
“Grace, he’s a pervert who wants to marry you. I think it’s safe to say he’s evil.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
“Was that the only dream you had?”
“No,” Grace thought for a moment then accepted, “but it’s the only one I can remember. I think I woke up a little bit after I had that one.”
Annie nodded.
Grace added, “Actually, I don’t even think I was dreaming. I felt like I was there.”
“Spooky.”
John checked his pistol: It was empty. “Only one left.” He removed his last bullet from his pocket and loaded it into his gun.
Grace reluctantly told Annie, “We have to leave.”
“What? Why?”
“We’re almost out of food.”
“We still have some.”
“We have to find more before we actually run out. We don’t know when we’ll find any more.”
Annie huffed.
John was meandering through the thick fog... when he heard a noise! He hid and waited. A nervous looking teenaged boy wearing a backpack and armed with a pistol, walked past him. “Sheep,” John recognized the youth’s nature. “Looking for food? Be careful: You might end up lunch rather than find it.” John suppressed an urge to chuckle. “I could really use that pistol.” He considered stalking and pouncing this lamb. “No. That kid needs it more than I do.” John watched the youth disappear into the fog. “Take care.”
Grace and Annie hid when they saw it: a shadowy form moving in the distance. They waited for it to disappear. Annie wondered, “What do you think it was?”
“I don’t know. It’s too hard to see anything in all this fog.”
Suddenly they heard a maniacal cackle!
The laughing hag was startled when John drew his knife and rushed her! He tackled her to the ground and plunged his blade into her.
Annie and Grace cringed at hearing the bloodcurdling scream! They ran away from the frightening sound.
John rushed another hag. She raised her punching dagger, mumbling and the red crystal flashed. The man tackled and stabbed her. She wailed in his face! He held her wrist as she tried to stab him and grabbed her throat as she snapped at him! He squeezed with all his might until the ferocious thing finally went limp.
“Over here!” John heard a woman’s voice.
Grace and Annie were running around a corner... when they ran into... a hag! The big, ugly thing staggered back, then tried to snatch the girls! Annie and Grace ran, the hag cackling behind them. Suddenly their pursuer was tackled, stabbed and her belly cut open. The girls ran, unnoticing. They did hear a woman shout, “Kill him!”
John had found the girls! He had also been spotted by a redhead and several hags. They did not appear to have seen Grace and Annie. John would lead them away from the girls. Suddenly he felt heavy and sluggish. He strained, groaned and shouted, “No! Not going to happen!” He felt the spell break! He ran; the priestess and hags in pursuit of him.
The redhead and the six hags with her, stopped when they lost sight of the man. Suddenly one of them yelped! John charged into the lot of them, from behind, slashing and stabbing them!
Grace and Annie hid behind a convenience store, gasping and panting for breath. “We have to... be quiet,” Grace warned, “or they’ll hear us.”
The two could hear shrieks and screams coming from nearby. Annie wondered, “What’s going on over there?”
The six hags were strewn about, some of them dead, but all of them down and bleeding. One of them lay on her side moaning and clutching her own spilled intestines! “Digusting,” John snickered. He was on top of the beautiful redhead. Her eyes went wide and her mouth gaped as he raised his wet knife above her! She screamed as it came down! The blade stopped, right at her face. The man on top of her howled. “I’m a wolf, baby!” he laughed. He then leaned down, grinning right in her face, his wild, crazed eyes staring into her. He told her, “You have a beautiful face. If I kill you, it will rot with you. I can’t do that.” He kissed her, on the lips then disappeared into the fog of Eldritchville.
Annie and Grace were startled when they saw they were spotted by a hag! The two girls ran. Turning a corner, they saw another one! They darted in another direction. They happened upon a brunette woman and a group of hags!
“You’re so soft,” John said to the hag he was on top of, strangling. “Where do you get all that strength with such a soft body?” The victim choked rather than answer. “Don’t worry: I don’t think you’re rude. I know you can’t say anything right now.” John noticed his own, sneering expression within the black, widening pupils of the hag’s deathly white eyes. “You’re so war
m, too. That surprises me. I mean: You look like a corpse but have all the warmth, vim and vigor of someone full of life. Isn’t that interesting?” The hag’s eyes rolled back and she went limp. “You’re dead? Now you actually match your appearance.”
John picked up his victim’s punching dagger and compared it to his own knife. He concluded, “I like mine better,” and tossed hers aside.
He suddenly noticed the familiar voices of young girls, screaming and crying. “Grace? Annie?” He left the dead monster where she lie and followed the desperate young cries. Suddenly, they went quiet.
“We’re not going to hurt you!” The brunette priestess assured. The hags who held Grace and Annie now had their hands firmly over the girls’ mouths. “But there are plenty in town who will. If they hear you, they’ll come looking for you and if they get a hold of you... they’ll eat you.” The girls stopped struggling and trying to scream. “We’re taking you someplace safe. It’s the only place safe.” The priestess gestured for the hags to uncover the girls’ mouths.
“The Teacher?” Grace surmised.
“Yes,” the priestess smiled. She stroked Grace’s hair, leaned down so that they were face-to-face and said, “We’ve been waiting for you. We’re so glad we’ve found you.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Sister Felicity... but you can call me ‘Felicity.’ We’ll be friends if you want to be.”
John ran through the thick fog... but could not find Grace and Annie. He did, however, come across... the monument. “No,” he disbelieved. “No! Noooo! I hate you! I hate you!” The man wailed for all of heaven, hell and earth to hear.
“What’s that?” Annie wondered.
Sister Felicity told her, “The madness of Eldritchville.”
John stormed through the fog, heading for the Eldritchville School for the Gifted– when he happened upon a hag. He rushed her and tackled her to the ground! She wrapped around him and snapped at his face and neck! “Not this time,” the man broke free of her embrace. He punched her, dazing her. John pounded the hag’s ugly face, bashing her around her eyes, crushing her nose, busting her fleshy lips, knocking out yellow teeth and shattering her jaw.
The man panted for breath and got up off of the soft, plump, ashen form. He stared at its bruised, smashed, swollen and bloody face. “You’re looking prettier already.”
He got back on top of the hag and pummeled her face again! “Even better.” He poked at a blood bubble forming in her nostril. He then renewed beating the hideous face with a fierce, frenzied flurry.
Hags opened the gates to the grounds of the Eldritchville School for the Gifted. Grace asked Felicity, “A school? Is that why he’s called the Teacher?”
“He’s called the Teacher because he’s the one who brings out the best in you. People have so much potential but don’t know how to use it. He’ll teach you. He’ll show you how to do things you never even knew you were capable of.”
Grace and Annie were disturbed to realize that there were far more ugly, sneering hags than there were smiling, beautiful priestesses.
John stroked the long, white hair and kissed the broken, bloody mouth of the hag he had just beaten to death. “Now you’re beautiful.” The man laughed, sobbed... then wept.
Felicity brought the girls into the large, old mansion that was the School for the Gifted. She told the hags with them, “You are dismissed.” The sneering, big and big-breasted, sickly-colored, white-haired, ghostly-eyed creatures departed. The hall felt warmer, cleaner and safer now. Felicity smiled down at the girls and told them, “I know how you feel. I don’t like them either. I used to like some of them, but not anymore.”
Annie was surprised, “You used to like them?”
“Yeah. I hardly recognize them anymore, but some of them used to be my friends.”
“Your friends?”
“Yes. They weren’t always the way they are now.”
Grace understood, “The Mystery darkened their hearts and minds.”
“Yes. It corrupted everything about them, even their bodies. That’s why they look the way they do. Don’t worry: they’re afraid of Mr. Blackthorn, so they usually behave themselves. They know if they hurt you, he’ll curse them to an agonizing death... if he’s merciful enough to kill them at all. Besides, the rest of us love you. Anyway, he’s been waiting for you. Let’s go see him.”
Felicity led the girls up the staircase then down a corridor lined with the marble busts of women. Annie wondered aloud, “Who are these people?”
Sister Felicity answered, “Mr. Blackthorn’s venerable predecessors.”
“Other Teachers?”
“That’s right.”
Grace noticed that there were only a few family names among the many images. Some of them were “Blackthorn.” Others were... “Elderberry.”
Felicity brought the girls to the door at the end of the corridor and knocked. A man’s voice answered from the other side, “Come in.” Felicity led the girls into a posh, spacious office and to a man who was staring into an empty birdcage.
“Mr. Blackthorn,” Sister Felicity addressed.
The man turned and smiled, “Grace. You brought a friend?”
“Uh, yeah? She’s my best friend, Annie DeSilva.”
“I know who she is.” The man returned to staring into the birdcage. He mentioned, “You’re wondering why I’m staring into an empty cage. Grace, is it better for a bird to be free, where it is always in danger and must look for food? Or should it be a pet, where it will always be safe and guaranteed a meal?”
“It should be free.”
“To be wild is to be free... or game. To be domestic is to be a pet... or food.” Mr. Blackthorn opened the cage... and put a dove into it no one had seen him holding! He closed the cage, turned and said, “Let’s go for a walk. Felicity, will you grace us with your presence?”
“Only if you want me to, Mr. Blackthorn.”
“I always want to be graced with your presence.”
Grace, Felicity and Annie accompanied Mr. Blackthorn for a walk in the garden behind the school. He was telling them, “Magic, like technology, is the use of knowledge, material and energy to achieve a desired result. The difference is, whereas technology emphasizes the physical, magic emphasizes the metaphysical.” He gently took Grace’s shoulders, leaned down and asked her, “Do you know what I’m talking about?”
“Not really. I already know magic is supernatural. Everybody knows that.”
“Yes, but what many don’t understand is that magic is also natural. Grace, you have the talent. Nature gave you more than you know. You must know. I’ll teach you. I shall consummate my knowledge with your nature that you may give birth to great power.” Still looking at Grace, Mr. Blackthorn addressed his priestess, “Felicity.”
“Yes, Mr. Blackthorn?”
“Please treat Miss DeSilva to a snack. See to her comfort.”
“Yes, Mr. Blackthorn.” Felicity offered Annie her hand.
Annie looked at Grace, who stared back. Grace choked, “See you in a little bit.” Miss DeSilva reluctantly went away with Sister Felicity.
The man stood up straight, stared down at Grace and asked her, “Has anyone spoken to you?”
“About what?”
“Has anyone met you in your dreams?”
Grace thought of Prudence then lied, “No.” She tried to look cheerful and reminded, “You did, remember?”
“Yes.” He took Grace’s hand and they resumed their walk. “Grace, I must warn you: We have an enemy.”
The girl choked and her skin crawled. She knew who Mr. Blackthorn meant. She muttered to herself, “The Purifier.”
“You remember?! Grace, you remember him?!”
“Remember him? I just feel him. He’s been chasing me!”
“It’s all right,” the man held the trembling girl. “He can’t get you. I’ll protect you.”
“Who is he?”
Grace heard the answer, but she knew the Teacher had not really said it, “The Red Hand of Providence.” Mr. Blackthorn actually said, “He’s a dangerous fanatic. I’ve dealt with him before.” Grace heard what was not said, “He’ll kill me. He’s already tried, but only in dreams. Now he is here. I can feel him!”
“Why does he want to kill us?”
“Huh? Oh, he has his own, twisted reasons.” Grace heard amidst the spoken words, “I’m a heretic. You’re the Mother to be.”
The girl was reminded, by what she heard, but did not hear, that Mr. Blackthorn intended to marry her. She was going to be his wife and his mother! What she did not know, did not want to know and was too afraid to ask, was: why?
Nine-year-old Prudence Gray went into the School’s library, walking past rows of studying girls of various ages. She went into the Archives. Sister Faith watched her closely as Prudence scanned the spines under “NECROMANCY,” a section reserved for the more mature. “Prudence, what are you doing?”
“Studying.”
“Not that section.”
“Yes, Sister.” Prudence left the room. She hid and waited elsewhere. When Sister Faith left the Archives, Prudence went back in and found the book she was looking for.
Mr. Blackthorn laughed. “I’m not going to marry you now,” he assured Grace. “You’re still a child... for now. I’ll wait. In the meantime, I’ll help you grow.”
“What if I don’t want to marry you?”
Felix Blackthorn seemed shocked by the girl’s bold question. “Grace, you can decide that when the time comes.” Grace heard him not say, “You’ll be entirely agreeable by then.” The man reached around and gently rubbed her shoulder. He suggested, “Let’s get something to eat.”
Prudence was out in the garden plucking white, bell-shaped flowers (convallaria majalis)... when she noticed a hag watching her with those spooky white eyes. Was the chubby, nasty, big-bosomed thing suspicious or was she merely... hungry? Prudence continued what she was doing.