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Authors: Debbie Viguié
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can.”
Desdemona called a fireball to her free hand and glanced hastily around, trying to see from which direction danger would next come.
The entity just cackled more. “Little witch girl thinks she’s a match for anyone. She is sadly mistaken.”
Rage rocketed through her and she could feel herself ready to explode.
Calm down!
the voice inside her demanded.
“No!” she screamed as she spun in a circle, looking for something she could attack. She couldn’t see anything and she finally turned back to see Martin’s body, the jaws flapping as the entity continued to laugh through him. She could stop that laughter once and for all.
She raised her hand, preparing to launch the fireball at his head.
No! What it wants!
The voice was urgent, pleading.
What it wants. The entity was trying to make her angry enough to destroy Martin. But why?
The answer came to her in a flash. It was tied to Martin just as Martin was tied to it. At least, it was for so long as Martin was alive. If Martin were to die, though, the spirit would be free. Who knew what kind of havoc it could cause then, who it could possess? Maybe even her, she realized with a wave of nausea. She had to force it out, stop listening to it before it goaded her into doing something foolish.
She glanced down at the small red bag in her hand and knew in a moment what she had to do. She jumped forward, took her hand, and slammed the sachet into Martin’s chest, careful to also keep contact with it herself.
There was one hideous scream that was choked off as suddenly as it had begun. Martin slumped back on the floor. She sat, panting, continuing to hold the bag against him while keeping a firm grip on it herself, mindful of what the entity had said about other things that could move the bag and help him return.
After what seemed a lifetime Martin groaned and his eyes flickered open. He stared up at her, uncomprehendingly, for a moment. Then he reached up and put a hand over hers, his fingers brushing against the fabric of the bag.
“What happened?” he asked.
“How about first you tell me what the thing is and how it possesses you?”
Martin nodded slightly and then closed his eyes. “Just give me a moment.”
She ground her teeth in frustration. She wanted answers now. The creature had told her where the witch she was hunting would be at midnight. She needed to get all the information she could before she confronted her.
She still wasn’t sure why the entity had tried to stop her from going into the theme park, had actually bothered to try to save her life. Maybe it had sensed an opportunity to change hosts and get an upgrade and hadn’t wanted her to run off and get herself killed before it could make the exchange.
Maybe it was lying about where the witch would be tonight. Or lying about not being in league with her.
All of it was just conjecture until she got some more answers, and she was about ready to shake Martin until he talked. She started to move her hands and froze as she realized she’d almost let go of the little red bag.
Sweat began to bead on her forehead. Had one of the other creatures planted that thought in her mind for just that reason?
“Martin, I need answers,” she said through gritted teeth.
He sighed heavily and then sat up. He started to take the bag from her and she clung on to it fiercely.
“It’s okay. He can only harm you if he is present, and he can only be present if he is possessing me,” Martin said.
“Not good enough,” she answered.
He nodded as though he had expected such an answer. “Tell you what. I have more of these bags throughout the house. If you help me stand we can go together to the kitchen and I can give you one of your own. Is that a deal?”
Desdemona nodded. Together they stood up, both holding on to the little red bag. Then they walked slowly into the kitchen. From a drawer nearest the door he removed an identical-looking sachet and handed it to her.
She shook her head. “How do I
Desdemona called a fireball to her free hand and glanced hastily around, trying to see from which direction danger would next come.
The entity just cackled more. “Little witch girl thinks she’s a match for anyone. She is sadly mistaken.”
Rage rocketed through her and she could feel herself ready to explode.
Calm down!
the voice inside her demanded.
“No!” she screamed as she spun in a circle, looking for something she could attack. She couldn’t see anything and she finally turned back to see Martin’s body, the jaws flapping as the entity continued to laugh through him. She could stop that laughter once and for all.
She raised her hand, preparing to launch the fireball at his head.
No! What it wants!
The voice was urgent, pleading.
What it wants. The entity was trying to make her angry enough to destroy Martin. But why?
The answer came to her in a flash. It was tied to Martin just as Martin was tied to it. At least, it was for so long as Martin was alive. If Martin were to die, though, the spirit would be free. Who knew what kind of havoc it could cause then, who it could possess? Maybe even her, she realized with a wave of nausea. She had to force it out, stop listening to it before it goaded her into doing something foolish.
She glanced down at the small red bag in her hand and knew in a moment what she had to do. She jumped forward, took her hand, and slammed the sachet into Martin’s chest, careful to also keep contact with it herself.
There was one hideous scream that was choked off as suddenly as it had begun. Martin slumped back on the floor. She sat, panting, continuing to hold the bag against him while keeping a firm grip on it herself, mindful of what the entity had said about other things that could move the bag and help him return.
After what seemed a lifetime Martin groaned and his eyes flickered open. He stared up at her, uncomprehendingly, for a moment. Then he reached up and put a hand over hers, his fingers brushing against the fabric of the bag.
“What happened?” he asked.
“How about first you tell me what the thing is and how it possesses you?”
Martin nodded slightly and then closed his eyes. “Just give me a moment.”
She ground her teeth in frustration. She wanted answers now. The creature had told her where the witch she was hunting would be at midnight. She needed to get all the information she could before she confronted her.
She still wasn’t sure why the entity had tried to stop her from going into the theme park, had actually bothered to try to save her life. Maybe it had sensed an opportunity to change hosts and get an upgrade and hadn’t wanted her to run off and get herself killed before it could make the exchange.
Maybe it was lying about where the witch would be tonight. Or lying about not being in league with her.
All of it was just conjecture until she got some more answers, and she was about ready to shake Martin until he talked. She started to move her hands and froze as she realized she’d almost let go of the little red bag.
Sweat began to bead on her forehead. Had one of the other creatures planted that thought in her mind for just that reason?
“Martin, I need answers,” she said through gritted teeth.
He sighed heavily and then sat up. He started to take the bag from her and she clung on to it fiercely.
“It’s okay. He can only harm you if he is present, and he can only be present if he is possessing me,” Martin said.
“Not good enough,” she answered.
He nodded as though he had expected such an answer. “Tell you what. I have more of these bags throughout the house. If you help me stand we can go together to the kitchen and I can give you one of your own. Is that a deal?”
Desdemona nodded. Together they stood up, both holding on to the little red bag. Then they walked slowly into the kitchen. From a drawer nearest the door he removed an identical-looking sachet and handed it to her.
She shook her head. “How do I
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