PROLOGUE: THE SECRETS
The sun was nearly setting over the horizon. Out of the shadows dark figures began to gather around Heathenize's home, covering themselves with hooded long silk black robes so their faces would not be known. Heathenzie, gracefully preparing her daughter’s dinner moved her gaze outside the window to see shadows outside approaching her home. She began to panic, not for her life, but for the sake of the only child she had. Reaching for the only long knife she had in her home, she started to walk towards the front door when her daughter followed her and tugged on the end of her brown dress. Tears began to form around Heathenzie’s eyes; pushing them back she quickly lifted her daughter into her arms. Rushing up the stairs she carried her into an abandoned closet away from any open windows or bedroom doors.
Heathenzie held her breath and looked at her daughter closely. “Rebecca,” she said softly at first, “I want you to stay here, and do not come out for any reason. Do you understand me?” she asked in a whisper. The little girl nodded her head, pushing back the tears as her mother pushed objects in front of her so that if someone were to ever look, no one would find her.
Closing the door quietly she turns, stands up carefully, and begins to walk towards the stairs holding her knife in her left hand and the other on the rail graciously down the stairs. Halfway down she turns to find the dark hooded figures standing in a circle as if they were waiting for their leader. A small gasp escapes her, and then she pulls her long orange-red hair out of its old wooden clip and allows it to fall freely over her shoulders. Her full lips form into a wicked smile as her eyes change from a light hazel green to a solid black charcoal color revealing no pupil within her eyes. Once Heathenzie comes to the last step of the stairs, she stands her ground, keeping her posture up one of the figures makes its way towards her and bows. Rising to meet Heathenizes eyes the one figure reveals her identity.
“We are ready for you, my dear.” The woman says in an old soft voice.
“Thank you, Mother.” Heathenzie lets the wicked smile fade. “I do hope the preparations are ready.” Her eyes turn away from the group only to look outside the window and gaze upon the full moon.
“Of course, darling”
Abigale grows restless. Fading in and out of her dream she notices a figure by the window from across her room. The Shadow reveals a small old woman whose eyes were darkened like black tunnels. She sits up from her bed and tries to control her breathing. “Who in the hell are you?” she whispers, assuming her father was asleep.
“You look so much like your mother…” The old woman responds trying to avoid the question. “I always hated her…”
“How dare-!” Abigale is then cut off by a wave of the old woman’s hand.
Howard quietly leans over the sink, reflecting upon his past; his wife, step daughter, and life he almost lost if Abigale was with her mother that day of the accident. “You can’t keep your daughter away from us forever, Howard.” A woman’s voice whispered to him, quickly catching him off guard. He lifts his head to find a middle age woman appearing before him. She seemed familiar to him in some ways but unfamiliar at the same time. Slowly he reached for the knife that laid on the counter top beside him.
“Who are you?” He called out softly, “How did you get in here?”
“Oh, time will only tell from here.” She let out a wicked laugh. Smiling evilly she looks up and puts her hand beside her ear as if she was awaiting for something. Then, a faint ‘thud’ from up stairs catches both of their attention. “And so it begins.” She fades back into the darkness as a loud scream echoes throughout the small house.
“Abigale!” Howard drops the knife and runs off up the stairs, rushes around the corner towards Abigale’s room. The screaming gradually increases sounding as if she was in terrible pain. He bursts through the door to find her cradling herself on the floor. His eyes then focus on a burn mark beginning to form within the surface of her skin on top of her collar bone. It shaped into a long V shape; only one side was longer than the other, almost resembling a check mark. Once the burning sensation faded, so did her screams. After so much agonizing pain Abigale fell into deep unconsciousness. Unaware of the other presence within the room, he lifts her up into his arms and carries her to her bed. Pulling the blankets from the floor he covers her body half way, assuming the cold from the night sky will mend the pain coursing through her body.
Howard gently grazes his hand along her cheek, admiring the resemblance she had with her mother. The only person keeping him tied with this one, and he has to face the harsh truth buried within his lies.
“Pity, is it not my son?” A soft yet cold voice spoke from behind him. He quickly turned around to find the woman who brought him into the world he knew, and the same person who threw him out. “She belongs to us soon.” Her laugh was similar to the woman from downstairs.
“What are you doing here?” he swiftly moved his hand to her throat gripping slowly, her eyes turn black.
“Foolish as always my boy,” his grip tightened and at that moment she sent him flying across the other side of the room with just one grin.
From all of the noise Abigale could not hear anything. Voices began to speak to her, as if they were the voices of the dead. Deep within her soul she peacefully slept. Unfortunately for her father, his soul was in terrible danger. Unable to fight from the day that they took away his birthright, he forced himself to stand. Knowing how vulnerable he was, he turned his gaze towards the window beside him. Seeing the full moon appear from the clouds he knew what everything meant. Terrified, not for his life, but for his daughter’s life. She was the key to everything; stopping the family curse, and prevent any more people from joining in with them. Howard closed his eyes, and felt a strong push against his chest that sent him crashing through the bedroom window. With a loud cry he fell two stories and landed on the ground, paralyzed from the waist down. Coughing out blood he tried to look around, but could only see the figures standing over him. One was an ancient middle aged woman, with a long and dark past, and the other, he still felt hurt within his heart that his own mother would betray him and their family.
With the raise of his mother’s hand, she sent a bolt of lightening through his veins. His cries scattered throughout the entire neighborhood, he died within seconds.
© Copyright 2016 jasariel. All rights reserved.
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