Chapter II
It had been planned out efficiently; to capture the child, they would lure the mother away with the cries of innocent young ones tormented by a cannibalistic monster. And so, they had come screaming- two girls, about a smoking shadow beneath the bridge with a bloody grin. In that particular winter, stronger ghosts and monsters had emerged, hunting their prey through the shadows of homes and sleepy sunlight, and left behind only horrifying spectacles for the village: the skin expertly peeled back, the exposed muscles covered in savage bite marks with hunks missing, the hearts gone, and the skulls split open with the brains missing too; the gaping, startling empty hole mocking the fullness of life.
That wasn’t all the creature had in store for the villagers. Less than a week after the third death, the children had begun screaming in throes filled with pure terror. Desperately, parents tried to discover the reasons for the screams. They only screamed louder. And some grew violent. One youth, a boy, slit his wrists to the bone with his fathers hunting knife while shouting: “DEATH IS THE ONLY WAY TO STOP THE FEAR!”
He died seven hours later: the ground around his corpse swimming in blood. His death should have been swift, but something unnatural had prolonged his agony, almost as if taunting Hawthorne and the village with its power over life and death.
More deaths had followed: one girl turned her head completely around, grinned at her shocked family, ran to the well with inhuman speed, perched on the stone, and screamed, “DEATH IS THE ONLY WAY TO STOP THE FEAR!” Then she dove in! No sounds of a splash or demented cries following her descent into the earth.
As a woman, she despised those that willingly harmed children. As the local spellcaster, it was her duty to protect the village from the hordes of hell. And as a mother, she knew this monster would feast on the children until that no longer satisfied its appetite; soon, all that remained of the village would be ruins and corpses. Therefore, she had swiftly followed the young pair and left her babe in the care of another village mother.
It should have been a routine exorcism: finding the monster, luring it into a circle, and eradicating its evil forever. However, when Hawthorne reached the bridge-the demon was gone. There was no presence of another being, especially a smoking, bloody grinned one. Could it have been playing a game with the girls, she wondered? Or was it simply lying in wait before committing another dark crime? Hawthorne turned to the pair, with questions on her tongue when she discovered they too were gone. Wha-
“MMWWWAAAAHHHH!!!!!! MMWWAAAHHHH!!!” Hawthorne froze- those cries belonged to an infant... The demon had HER baby!
“NO!” She screamed, running back the way she came, fear overcoming her senses: not noticing the smell of blood thickening into a fog around her. The scream came again: punctured with pain and fear. “MMWAAHHH!!!”
Hawthorne stumbled into the village square, hitting the ground- gashing herself in several places- she kept moving, motivated by a primal instinct no mother can ignore. Pulling her knives from their sheaths, she ran to her home and flung open the doors, ready to kill for love and life. No one was there. Her baby was screaming again louder- this time as if it was in the room, “MWWWWAAAAH!!!!!!” Hawthorne desperately searched the rooms again: Where. Was. Her. Baby!!
Hawthorne stood in his room where the crying was loudest- the sound rose and fell, eventually swelling to an ear-shattering, soul-wrenching pitch that consumed her entirely! She fell to her knees and screamed, “WHERE ARE YOU?!!!!!!!” As suddenly as the torture had started, it ceased. The air grew impenetrably still. The scent of blood finally registered as it filled the room: she tasted sorrow, pain, and death.
“Looking for something?” She twisted around and saw the speaker: it was the demon, a smoking, shadowy beast whose face held no features, but a grinning mouth of pointed white teeth, drooling blood onto the floor.
“Where. Is. My Baby!?” She growled, springing to her feet blades at the ready.
It spoke, “With the villagers, of course, sleeping peacefully.”
"LIAR GIVE ME MY CHILD!”
“You want him? Come and get him.” The room became enveloped in darkness-time seemed to stop, and Hawthorne felt as though she were blindly falling down a pit- until she landed on her back.
“AAHH!” Her body cried in shock at the sudden reunion with solid ground.
Everything screamed along with her in pain, but there was one scream that drowned out her own, resonating in the crystal sky, "MWWAAHH!!"
Hawthorne shot up, but was pulled down again: thick ropes restrained her middle, they wound themselves around her arms, legs, even her neck, lashing her body tightly against the stone table beneath her. Hawthorne struggled-the rope burned into her skin; it cut her wrists, strangled her, but she had to get her baby off the shoddy altar he laid on, she had to keep fighting for his life; THEY WERE GOING TO KILL HIM!
"STOP!” She yelled, but they ignored her, intoning,
“This Blood We Offer For You, Spare Our Beings And Take This Child of Your Enemy; The Son of Hawthorne Declan; The Demoness, Shield Against Darkness. Take His Being For Your Purposes And For Vengeance."
The eldest villager, a man whom Hawthorne considered harmless, placed the blade of a knife against his little throat. All the while, his mother fought her bindings with blind fear.
"With This Knife, We Give You This Sacrifice, Take It And Spare Us, Zal’rek.” And then,
“AHHUGHGHH!!”
His blood flowed over the rocks and wood, a glistening scarlet river to the grass, pooling at the feet of the villagers whose madness brought a terrible apogee; they willingly took a life under the proud name of the Devil's Servant.
- Someone began laughing -
Her baby was dead…
-The Laughter Grew Louder-
THEY Murdered HER SON.
Something spoke in her ear, “He belongs with me now, Spellcaster. You lost this battle."
Her mind went numb; overcome by instant and sudden oblivion her mind slid sideways into hell. The edges of her vision grew fuzzy and red… It got gradually darker until she was oblivious to the world.
WHY?!