Chapter 12
Chloe
Where am I? What happened?
I was groggy, and I came awake slowly. My head ached, and my vision was blurred.
I hadn’t felt like this since I drank a bunch of shots on Halloween and woke up on the carpet with candy corn stuck to my face.
The last thing I remembered was feeding the horses, and then a big nothing.
Something beneath me was cold.
I blinked a few times and abruptly everything came into focus. I sat in a chair of some sort. My butt was numb and there was a crick in my neck.
Did I fall asleep? What’s going on?
I leaned forward, and the back of my head ached once more, a rough, dull pain. Instinctively, I reached up to rub the goose egg, but I couldn’t move my arms.
And then I realized my hands were tied. Rope had been wrapped around my wrists, tethering me to a lawn chair.
What a peculiar dream.
I scrunched my eyes shut, before opening them once more. The view hadn’t changed.
Oh crap.
I take it back, this isn’t a dream. It’s the eeriest nightmare ever.
I focused on the rest of my surroundings, taking it all in. Like my house, there were herbs hanging from the ceiling. Hmm. I must be inside the she shed.
I had the feeling I was missing something huge. Something important.
And then I saw a bloody knife laying discarded on a small stainless-steel table, along with a cauldron. There was a terrible smell, something metallic, thick.
It reminded me of my porch. Blood.
When I turned my head to the side, I found Jeb slumped in another lawn chair. His skin was waxy and pale, and his eyes sightless. His throat had been gashed from ear to ear. Dried blood stained his flannel shirt and pooled in his lap.
I started to shake. Oh God. Viola had done this.
And poor Jeb had warned me not to come here. He must’ve known she was dangerous, and I’d walked straight into her trap.
Okay. I’m not gonna panic. Yet.
You have to get yourself out of this mess. I glanced down but didn’t see the outline of my phone in the pocket of my jeans. Although, even if I did have my phone, how would I get to it? My arms were still tied.
“Excellent. You’re awake.”
Viola walked through the front door with a smile on her face, as though this was a completely normal situation. She crossed the room to stand in front of me.
Viola looked like any other granny. She had blue-gray hair, with crow’s feet at the corners of her mouth and eyes. Viola was plump and dressed in a flannel shirt and loose-fitting mom jeans. She should be baking cookies for her grandkids, not going on a murder spree.
I took a deep breath. “Viola, what do you—”
She cut me off. “The moon is almost at its apex.”
The moon? Last time I checked, it was the middle of the afternoon. “How long have I been out?”
“Hours, dear.” She reached over, and I reared back, but Viola just patted my hand. “You slept the day away and most of the evening, too.”
And nobody had looked for me? That’s one of the hazards of living alone. Nobody notices when you get kidnapped by a homicidal maniac.
Speaking of crazy…
Viola grasped the knife, turning it over and over again in her hands.
I licked my dry lips. “W-what are you doing with that?”
“It’s an athame, dear, not a knife.” She lifted the blade, so I could see it better, almost as if she were showing it off.
Whatever. Labels aren’t the point. “What are you gonna do with it?”
“I think you know.” Her tone was gentle, almost pitying.
Yeah, I’d seen this kind of movie before and I knew how it ended. Only I didn’t intend to be Victim #3 in this particular screenplay.
Keep her talking, while you think of a way out of here.
“You killed your husband.” I nodded to Jeb. I tried not to let my gaze linger. His was the first dead body I’d seen, that hadn’t been laid out nice and neat in a casket. I can’t believe I’d seen him a few hours ago, and now he was gone.
“Yes.”
“And my grandmother.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, dear, but I used their blood for spells.” Viola shrugged as if it was an acceptable excuse for murder. “Waste not, want not.”
“What spell?”
“To heal a broken heart, of course.”
Right. Nothing says self-care like a ritual homicide.
“You’re insane.” I hadn’t meant to provoke her, but it just popped out.
Her nostrils flared. “No, I'm a witch. Your friend, Nettie, uses blood in her rituals.”
“Animal blood.”
“Same thing.”
“No, it really isn’t.” My fear was momentarily forgotten. This was the bitch who’d stolen Mamie from me. I finally had an outlet for all the grief, and pain, and fear. “And there's no such thing as magic. Why can't any of you crazy ass people figure that out?!” I shouted the words at her.
She slapped me across the face. Hard. “You’re the one who’s bein’ foolish. Can’t you feel the magic in this place?”
My cheek stung and my eyes watered. “No.” The only thing I felt was dread. And rage.
“You’ve been ignorin’ your gift, but magic’s in your blood. Accordin’ to your dearly departed grandmother,” she said with a smirk, “your family is descended from Rebecca Nurse. Ring a bell?”
I shook my head.
“She’s one of the Salem witches, put to death in the 1600s. Your family, the Nurses, moved away and settled down here afterward.”
“None of the Salem victims were actually witches.” I’d learned that much in history class.
“Is that right?” She snickered, all unnerving and knowing. “It made her blood especially potent.” She lifted a hand and absently licked a stray droplet of blood from her finger.
My stomach bounced and rolled as a wave of nausea hit me.
“Is that the real reason why you killed her?”
“Don’t mistake me. She deserved to die for screwin’ Jeb.” Viola slowly trailed the knife down the side of his face. “And as for my poor excuse for a husband, he strayed from my bed and I couldn’t let it go unpunished either.”
I could feel her pain, and if she wasn’t planning on gutting me like a fish, I might even feel sorry for Viola.
Don’t get me wrong. What Mamie and Jeb did was awful, but infidelity shouldn’t be punishable by death.
And now, I needed to get the hell out of this place. But a quick assessment of the situation, let me know I was screwed.
Let’s see. I was trussed up like one of her herb bundles. She had a knife and had already killed twice. Dammit.
“So, you got your vengeance.”
“No, this is justice, dear. I’m not vengeful.” She lifted a finger. “But I need one more spell ingredient.” She placed the tip of the knife on my chest.
“And what’s that?”
“An innocent heart.”
I gasped. “I’m far from innocent.”
“You can’t fool me. Look at you, all wide-eyed and guiltless.” Viola clucked her tongue. “I used to be like that once.”
Before you became the evil witch in a real-life fairy story? I don’t think so. She made the cannibal chick from Hansel and Gretel seem warm and fuzzy.
“So, you see, your heart is perfect for my spell.”
“I don’t get it,” I said, hoping to distract her. “Were you trying to scare me off? With the doll? And the mess you made on my porch?”
“No, dear, I was warnin’ you, but you were too foolish to drop this.”
“And, um, what does the ritual involve?”
“I’m gonna cut out your heart. Then, I’ll sprinkle it with the blood of those who betrayed me.” Viola explained this calmly, as if she was giving me her buttermilk biscuit recipe. Everybody had one in the south.
There was only one way out of this. Somehow, I had to get my arms and legs free. No mean feat. However, when I tugged on my left ankle, I noticed my bonds were a bit loose.
Hmm. I had to push Viola, throw her off her game.
“Maybe he decided to cheat on you because you’re a nut job?”
“I’d watch my tongue if I were you,” she hissed. “Or I’ll slice it out of your mouth, too.”
I wiggled my ankle back and forth. Slowly. Just loosening up my bonds.
“They were planning on running away together, you know.” Actually, I didn’t have a clue, and I was just improvising, pushing emotional buttons to see what happened.
Her knuckles went white. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Jeb didn’t love you anymore. He and Mamie were gonna leave this place, start over together.”
Viola’s eyes watered, and her lips trembled.
Yes! My words had scored a direct hit. She might have a weapon, but my words cut even deeper.
And then she staggered closer, raising the athame.
I swallowed. Okay, so maybe this was a shitty plan. Especially, if I couldn’t get free.
“I’m gonna enjoy this,” she said.
No, no, no. Come on. I can’t die like this.
After twisting my leg again, the bonds finally broke free.
Just as she was about to strike, I planted my foot in the center of her chest, pushing her backward. Viola might be a full-on psycho killer, but she was an old lady and no match for me physically. She tumbled to the floor.
I pulled my right leg free and stood up. Viola was struggling to her feet, still holding the weapon.
So, I did the only thing I could do, under the circumstances.
I ran into the forest.