The Sorceress (33 page)

I
t seemed like she was in the midst of an out-of-body experience. Numb and still as a statue, she felt nothing. Instead of flailing or going into spasms when Boozer sank his incisors into her limb, Jen hadn't flinched. Through an amazing but unintentional act of disassociation, she sat with Zen-like calmness as the ogre ripped a chunk of flesh from her arm, creating a bloody crater. Jen didn't blink an eye.

Inside the deep crimson hole, Eris inserted a straw. Ironically, it came from the cheerful pack of kiddy straws Lizzy had given Ethan. The joke was on Jen. Ethan wasn't and never had been a kid. As bizarre a sight as it was to see a plastic straw jutting out of her arm, even stranger was the fact that Eris's lips were puckered around the end of the brightly colored straw, drawing out Jen's blood as casually as if she were sipping a refreshing beverage.

Jen showed no emotion and felt no pain. Ghost lady had been using her and feeding on her so frequently, Jen had detached from her own body. Her will to survive was diminishing. She was peaceful. Probably close to death from blood loss, she surmised. Evil had won the battle. She could no longer keep up the good fight. Not physically or emotionally. Somewhere in her hazy mind, she surrendered, admitting to herself that death had to be far better than living like this.

“Take her away,” Eris commanded. Boozer did as he was told, yanking Jen by the collar. He dragged her out of the room and down the stairs. She didn't feel the bump of each step that the beast descended. She felt nothing except the peaceful release of life slowly leaving her body.

In the lightless cellar, the air was heavy with a revolting smell… a stench so thick that it brought Jen back to awareness, making her retch and dry heave. The beast grabbed her by the collar and dug a claw into her elbow, ensuring that she was awake.

She witnessed him lifting a floorboard and a blast of foul odor assaulted her nostrils. Jen resisted the beast's pull on her arm. He was trying to drag her into a hidden underbelly of the cellar; a place where mice and rats and God knew what else were swarming.

Boozer yanked her down two or three stairs and then let her fall the rest of the way down. Her body hitting concrete wasn't as bad as the feeling of suffocation from the toxic-smelling stink.

Boozer replaced the floorboard, leaving Jen in utter darkness. No rodents approached and it didn't matter. She could feel the curtain of this life coming down and felt herself sinking. Soon, sweet eternal sleep would claim her. Jen welcomed death.

But it was a cruel joke. Jen had only slept. She awoke to total darkness and a sickening stench, that was unlike anything she'd ever smelled. Momentarily disoriented, she wondered why she was lying in darkness, why did she hurt all over, and what was that putrid smell?

Oh, God!
Horrific memories flooded her mind. Ethan, apparently in cahoots with the devil himself, had somehow unleashed two demons and invited them into the Provost home.

No longer willing to just lie down and die, Jen flattened her hand against the cold concrete floor and tried to push herself up. Agh! Excruciating pain shot through her arm; she collapsed, her head banging against concrete. She'd landed sort of sideways and the horrific odor seemed closer. With every breath, she inhaled the awful smell.

Oh, Jesus! I have to get out of this house.
Desperate to escape, she lifted her head slightly, but the pressure on her neck was too painful. Lying prone, Jen turned her head from one side to the other, trying to make out her surroundings…maybe locate a window or a secret escape hatch. But there was nothing except total darkness. And that atrociously foul odor.

Jen wrinkled her nose.
What the hell is that fetid smell? Spoiled wine? Rotted food? A dead mouse? Or a dead rat? Ew!
Jen shuddered. Repelled, she drew up her legs.

Even after suffering the appalling assaults at the hands of Satan's evil deed-doers, she still didn't think she could handle feeling her feet brushing up against a nasty, dead rat.

She uttered a helpless cry. Not too loud. She whimpered low and pitifully, careful not to draw the monsters down to the basement. Honestly, if she heard that thing named Boozer clomping down the stairs, she'd kill herself by running full speed, headfirst, into a wall. If that didn't do the trick, she'd have no choice but to bash her brains out against the concrete floor.

God, she wished she had her cell phone on hand. She'd speed dial everyone in her contact list…Rome, her parents, her geek friends back in Centerville, the senator, Ms. Provost. She'd call information and ask to be put through to the FBI…the CIA…
The National Enquirer
…TMZ… Hell, she'd even send a text message to Mediatakeout.com and that blogging queen, Perez Hilton.

Jen would reach out to anyone who could get the word out and draw some attention to this demon-infested house. Somebody had to save her before those maniacs started biting on her and siphoning out her blood again…with a straw.

She rolled her eyes, infuriated as she recalled Lizzy proudly pulling those weapons out of the pocket of her big sweater. How had something that appeared so innocent ended up being used as an instrument of destruction?

Rome!
Oh, her heart hurt. There'd be no hot date tonight. Or ever. These monsters, fitting in perfectly with Halloween, were not going to let her go.

There was no way she was going to lie down in this basement waiting for that hairy, wax-faced maniac to come and fetch her so Eris could have herself another drink of blood. This madness could on indefinitely, with Eris expecting a hemoglobin cocktail every time she broke a freakin' fingernail.

Jen would rather die right now than endure another brutal biting and more blood sucking. Determined to at least attempt to escape, she propped herself up with her other arm.

It hurt badly but she pushed past the burning pain, panting desperately as she struggled to lift her torso from the floor. Finally, she made it to an upright position. Feeling winded like she'd just finished a 10K race, she gasped, and then had to rest for a moment as she tried to catch her breath.

When her heart rate calmed down a little, she squinted in the dark. Time to move into the next phase of her great escape, but she needed something to grab onto so she could pull herself off the floor. With feeble motions, she waved her aching, mangled arm through the air, hoping to hit upon something solid, but all that hand waving was creating a really funky breeze.

She waved high. Then low. Her hand smacked into something
soft. And gooey. Gooey stuff was all over her hand. And it stank to high heavens. Smelled worse than a truck filled with five weeks worth of garbage.
Eew! Eew! Eew!

“Oh, Jesus,” she moaned, tears beginning to pool as she frantically wiped the mush from her hand, trying to get it off by smearing it across the floor. What had she touched? A person? Jen wanted to scream. She'd been dumped inside the wine cellar, confined with a dead body lying next to her. And she'd been victimized further by ending up with a really stinky hand.

She needed some soap and water. No, that wouldn't help. She'd need something a lot stronger for the residual mess that was clung to the spaces between her fingers and under her nails.

It felt as yucky as it smelled. Now, her problem had escalated. In addition to trying to stay alive, she needed to find a container of Lysol…a bottle of bleach…or some freakin' Mr. Clean!

“Get it together, Jen. Focus. Deal with the smell,” she murmured to herself, attempting to talk herself into a state of calmness. As her eyes finally began to adjust to the darkness, she realized that she was not in the main part of the wine cellar, but had been placed in some hidden space where it would be hard for someone to find her.

She cut an eye at the dead body next to her. At first she blinked in disbelief. Then she had to cover her mouth to stifle a scream. Carmen's favorite plaid skirt was hitched up over her abundant behind, where big hunks of flesh had been ripped out.
Oh, my God. No! Carmen!

“I'm sorry, Carmen. I'm so sorry,” she sobbed softly. Grimacing, she pulled back both feet and pushed them into the cook's mutilated backside, shoving the decaying carcass as far away from her as possible.

ROANOKE, VIRGINIA

E
ven though Kali no longer seemed afraid and was back to sleeping in her own room, the family did not plan to celebrate Halloween. To Ajali, donating Kali's Halloween costume to the Children's Hospital was a good idea.

An even better idea had been contacting volunteer services at the hospital and committing to spending several hours a week reading to the sick children. Tonight, she had asked if she could bring Kali along.

The Children's Hospital was bustling with Halloween activities. The staff as well as many of the children wore costumes. On a trick-or-treating excursion, some of the children walked, others propelled wheelchairs as they paraded through the hospital, making stops at various nurses' stations, and yelling: “Trick or treat!”

In spite of the colorful display of holiday decorations, the mood on the fifth floor was less than festive. A dozen or so children were assembled inside a large playroom. These pediatric patients, with conditions too fragile to participate in the costume parade, were quiet. A somber bunch. Some sat in wheelchairs, but most lay prone on recliners, their eyes closed—presumably asleep.

“This is Ms. Ajali Stovall and her daughter, Kali,” a nurse dressed in a ballerina costume spoke cheerfully to the sedate group of kids. “Ms. Stovall is going to read you Halloween stories.
Isn't that nice?” Those who were awake responded with slight head nods and weak smiles, but one little girl gave a big, snaggle-tooth smile and yelled an exuberant, “Yes!”

Feeling an instant connection, Kali took a seat next to the bubbly little girl. “Hi,” Kali said shyly. “My name is Kali.”

“My name is Shanice,” the child said, her expressive brown eyes bright with excitement.

“Hello, everyone and happy Halloween,” Ajali began. All of a sudden, Shanice groaned, her face, etched in pain.

“Excuse me, Ms. Stovall,” the nurse interrupted. “I'm going to take Shanice back to her room.”

“Is she coming back?” Kali asked.

“I don't think so,” the nurse said. “Shanice gets really sleepy after she takes her medication.”

“Can I keep her company until she goes to sleep?” Kali asked the nurse, cutting an eye at her mother, silently asking permission. Ajali nodded.

The nurse straightened the orange blanket around the little girl's legs.“Is that okay with you, Shanice? Do you mind if Kali visits with you in your room?”

Nodding, Shanice sent a faint smile in Kali's direction. “You can play with my Game Boy if you want to.” The little girl tried to sound cheerful, but her pained voice was a fractured whisper.

Inside Shanice's room, the nurse transferred the little girl from the recliner to her bed. She raised the bedrails and then pushed a button, cranking up the top of the small hospital bed. “I'll be right back with your pain pill.” Trying to cheer Shanice, the tutu-wearing nurse made a series of awkward twirls toward the door. Kali giggled. Surprisingly, Shanice managed a smile.

“The game is in—” Shanice flinched as though struck by a stab of pain. Moaning, she pointed shakily to her bedside table. “It's in the drawer.”

“Do you have a tummy ache?” Kali asked.

“I have sickle cell anemia.” A stream of tears began rolling down her brown cheeks.

Kali had never heard of the disease, but sensing Shanice's evident distress, she figured it was something serious. She glanced toward the open door, looking for the nurse, hoping she'd hurry back with the medicine.

“Oh!” Shanice whimpered, her facial features contorting badly.

Kali patted Shanice's shoulder. “Your nurse will be right back.” Shanice was obviously in a great deal of pain and Kali had no idea how long it would take for the nurse to return. Needing to do something to help her new friend, Kali stuck her hand inside her pocket and took out the goddess ring.

Too large to fit her ring finger, she slipped the silver ring over her thumb. Swept by what felt like tidal waves of adrenaline, Kali stood held onto Shanice's bedrail, steadying herself as she waited to adjust to the overwhelming power of the ring. She leaned in closely, her face fixed in concentration, as she wiped away Shanice's teardrops with the pad of her thumb.

When the nurse returned holding a plastic med cup, Shanice had shown Kali how to lower her bedrails and was out of bed. “Shanice!” Mystified by what looked like a miraculous recovery, the nurse looked at Kali. Smiling, Kali shrugged. She slipped the ring off her thumb, and snuck it back inside her pocket.

“Can I put on my Halloween costume? I want to go trick-or-treating with the other kids,” Shanice said, bouncing energetically.

“Are you sure you feel up to it, honey?”

“I really feel much better. I don't need a pill anymore.”