There are two stories on this page:
The Hands of Fate and The Spirit of Drusilla
THE HANDS OF FATE
By Donald Sullivan
The fox was hurrying back to her den. It was almost dawn now, and she knew that her hungry pups were waiting to suckle her breasts.
***
The minivan, bearing its three passengers on a weekend fishing trip, sped along county road 358. Gary Miller sat in the passenger seat next to Tom Kinney, the driver. Roy Barnes rode in the back seat.Gary glanced back at Roy, who was curled up on the back seat, sound asleep. He wondered how Roy managed to sleep with the country music blaring from the radio.
In the gray light of dawn, Gary saw an animal ahead--a fox--crossing the road from left to right. It had almost made it to the shoulder of the road and was out of danger. Gary, expecting Tom to keep going straight, was shocked when Tom swerved onto the shoulder, aiming to hit the animal.
“Rod kill for the convicts,” said Tom.
Gary felt a thump as the minivan ran over the fox. At the same moment, he saw the railing of a concrete bridge looming straight ahead. Tom, unable to steer the vehicle back onto the pavement, cursed as he swerved farther to the right to avoid the railing. Gary braced himself, then blacked out as the van crashed through trees and brush, plunging down to the muddy waters of the creek down below.
***
When Gary regained consciousness, he was astonished to see that the minivan was not in the creek. It was sitting in a clearing surrounded by dense, gloomy woods. The creek and bridge had vanished; the surrounding area bore no resemblance to the spot where they had crashed. There was a strange and unnatural air about the place--something that filled him with an inexplicable feeling of dread.
He looked at Tom and Roy. At first he thought his companions were dead, but he knew they were not dead when he saw their terror-filled eyes. The men seemed to be in some kind of stasis, frozen in place. Their eyes pleaded for him to help them.
“I...I don’t know what the hell’s going on,” he told them, “but I’ll try to find out. I’ll try to get help.”
But he knew, and guessed that they knew, too, that he could do nothing. They were doomed. But he was the only one free to move; he had to at least try.
The eyes of the other two followed him as he stepped out of the minivan. He inspected the vehicle. There was not a scratch on it. What the hell had happened? Why were they here in this forsaken place? The minivan should be wrecked and resting in the creek. Given a choice, he would rather be in the damned creek.
As he was walking around the van, he stopped when he heard a voice.
“Gary Miller.” The voice seemed to be in his head. “Here, Gary, in the grass. I’m directly in front of you.”
He looked down to see a fox looking up at him.
“Don’t you recognize me, Gary? I was living only moments ago. But now my body lies crushed, run over by your cruel, thoughtless friend. I have three pups who even now await my return. They will die slowly from starvation.”
One part of his mind accepted a talking spirit-fox as normal. Another part of his mind wondered why he accepted it.
“But I didn’t...”
“Yes, I know you didn’t, Gary. It was your friend, Tom Kinney. But you were there, and you were present when Tom committed other acts of cruelty to helpless creatures. I will now introduce you to another of Tom’s many victims. Hold out your hand.”
Bewildered, Gary held out his hand. Abruptly, a cricket materialized in his palm. A higher pitched voice entered his head.
“Do you remember me, Gary? You were a young boy at the time. You were with Tom when he caught me. You watched as he tore my limbs from my body. The pain was unbearable. You did nothing to stop him, nothing at all.”
The fox spoke up. “Tom has committed many heartless deeds against his fellow creatures, many of which you witnessed. Now the time has come for Tom to pay.
Suddenly, the minivan door flew open. Tom, his eyes wild with fear, jumped from the van. Gary watched as Tom charged across the clearing, heading for the safety of the tree line. He didn’t make it. A giant hand, without arm or body, reached down and scooped him up. Gary watched in horror as another hand descended and seized one of Tom’s arms.
He squeezed his eyes shut, but could not shut out the ear-splitting screams. When the screams stopped, he opened his eyes to see the hands holding Tom’s armless body.
The hands lay Tom’s body on the ground in front of Gary. Gary felt as though his body had been drained. He began to shake. He wanted to scream, but a lump in his dry throat held the scream back. He leaned against the van and retched.
“Perhaps you think we are sadistic fiends,” said the fox, “but what we do is no worse than the brutal acts of some men toward their fellow creatures. Now and then, Fate sees fit to grant some of us a chance to mete out a small measure of justice. On this occasion, Fate has delivered the three of you into our hands. Tom has paid his dues, and now it is Roy’s time. Roy’s victims, like Tom’s, are many. Here are two of them.”
A mixed breed dog and a kitten appeared before him. Gary recognized the dog as one that had previously belonged to Roy, but did not remember the kitten. A new, lower pitched voice sounded in his head.
“I see that you recognize me, Gary. Do you remember how I died? Your good friend and neighbor, Roy Barnes, left me out in freezing, rainy weather, chained to a dog house that gave no protection against such weather. You knew of my plight, because I saw you peek out your back door when you heard my mournful barking that night.
“When my master was a young boy, he held this kitten in a water-filled bucket until the poor creature drowned. You also witnessed that foul deed, without so much as a word of protest. And now, Gary, please watch.”
Roy stepped from the minivan, took several steps, and suddenly broke for the tree line. He screamed in terror as the giant hand plucked him up. The other giant hand descended. It was holding a huge water-filled bucket.
Gary could see Roy vainly struggling in the grasp of the giant hand. Roy’s screams turned to gurgling as the hand plunged him into the water. The hand held Roy there for what seemed an eternity before withdrawing him from the water. The hand dropped Roy’s body beside the mangled body of Tom.
“There,” said the dog, “now he knows how the kitten felt.”
“I don’t understand,” said Gary. He was still shaken, but was beginning to regain some control of himself. “Why do you choose us? There must be tens of thousands who have committed acts of cruelty against animals. And what of animals that kill other animals? Lions kill. So do crocodiles. And wolves.”
“The choosing is not ours,” said the fox. “We must accept the opportunities for vengeance that Fate sees fit to grant us. As you say, there are many who have committed cruel acts; who knows what judgment awaits them? As for animals killing other animals, the law of the jungle applies. Nature decrees that some creatures must kill to survive. The law applies to mankind as well, when they kill only for survival.”
“Enough of this prattle,” said the cricket. “It is time now to judge Gary Miller. He must be punished for condoning those horrible deeds.”
“You are right,” said the dog, “he should have spoken up for us.”
The kitten spoke up. “He let his friends torture and kill us. He should pay for that.”
“Yes,” agreed the fox. “Through his silence he has shown callous indifference to our suffering. Let us choose a fitting end for him. He will now...”
“Wait!” Gary shouted. “If you are truly interested in justice, then you will allow me to speak in my own defense.”
“Very well,” said the fox, “what have you to say for yourself?”
“I grew up with Tom and Roy,” he said, “and I suppose it was our close friendship that blinded me to their cruelty. But deep inside, I honestly don’t believe that I was indifferent to the suffering that they caused.”
He looked at the fox. “In your case, I had no time to react when Tom ran you down. I was powerless to stop him.”
He turned to the dog. “Don’t you remember the times I passed food and water over the fence to you when Roy left you none?
“As to the other cruel acts I have witnessed, I can only say that I wish I’d protested. I am truly sorry.”
“Is that all you have to say?” Asked the fox.
“Yes. Except to say that I have never maliciously harmed any creature. I would hope that you consider that.”
The creature-spirits huddled for what seemed a long time. There was apparently strong disagreement among them. After a time, the fox left the group and came up to him.
“Gary Miller, we have reached a verdict.”
Gary looked up and saw the giant hand descending toward him. Before he could run, he felt the fingers closing around his body. He blacked out.
***
He awoke to see a nurse standing beside his bed. She looked down at him.“Well, well. I do believe that Mr. Miller is back with us. How are we feeling?”
“I...okay, I guess. Where am I?”
“Middleton General Hospital. Someone saw your accident and called 911. You’ve been here about thirty minutes. Your wife is on her way here from Riverdale.”
“How...how are the others?”
“I’m afraid they didn’t make it. One of them was in a part of the van that was partially under water. He drowned, but rescuers thought it very strange. They said that he was in a position where he could have easily kept his head above water.
“The other one died enroute to the hospital. In some freakish way, he had lost both arms. Rescue people also couldn’t figure out how that happened. They agreed that it was the weirdest accident they had ever witnessed. One of those unexplained mysteries, I suppose.
“Except for a slight concussion, you came through without a scratch. You were lucky, Gary Miller.”
***
Somewhere, on another plane of existence, a fox welcomed her three pups as they joined her.The End
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The witch hunter was moving through the crowd, coming toward her. He walked up and faced her.
“You’re the most powerful and evil witch I’ve ever encountered, Drusilla. You’ve brought misfortune, sickness, and even death to the villagers. But they need fear you no longer; I’ve managed to bind your spells.
“I know that you’re thinking of revenge, but I’m taking measures to prevent that. I accept that your spirit may survive the fire, but I have found a way to trap it. Your ashes will be spread on a bridge spanning running water, thus trapping your soul at the bridge. There you will remain until the bridge itself crumbles. Your spirit will sleep there for a long time, Drusilla.”
She laughed at him. “You can trap my spirit for a time, but you cannot kill it because you have not found my secret bane--though I know you have tried.”
“Yes, I’ll admit that. But I concede that a witch’s bane is nearly impossible to learn--it could be anything from a magpie to a milkweed. But I promise you, if I knew your bane I would surely use it to destroy your evil soul.”
She knew that the thing that was her bane was not to be found in or near the village. Her smile mocked him. “Perhaps my bane is rat droppings. Why don’t you try that?”
He turned and walked away. As he disappeared into the crowd, Drusilla’s gaze wandered to the nearby bridge where her spirit would be trapped--for a very long time.
Sue Robbins enjoyed hiking. Today was Saturday, her day off, and it was a perfect spring day for a hike in the woods. After breakfast she wrote a note to her mother, who was still asleep, and left it on the kitchen table. She strapped on her pack and set out.
She had nearly reached the town limit when she saw a commotion in the ball field off to her left. Two young boys were laughing and throwing rocks at something. It was a dog tied to a stake. She recognized them as the Wilson boys, a pair of troublemakers. She went out onto the field, and the pair turned and ran when they saw her coming. They laughed and shouted obscenities as they ran.
Sue untied the dog, a large red mixed breed. Other than a slightly swollen eye, the dog looked okay. There was no ID on his collar. She found some oatmeal cookies in her pack and gave them to the dog. She turned to go, and the dog followed her. She shooed the dog away, hoping that he would go home--if he had one.
Sue continued on her way. But as she walked along the country road, something began to trouble her--a premonition that some terrible fate was awaiting her. Death--perhaps something even worse than death--awaited her. She stopped, turned around, and hurried back toward town.
“Me and my wild imagination. I’ve worked too hard to overcome my stupid fears to let them rule me now.”
She turned around once more, hesitated for a moment, and resolutely resumed her hiking. She followed route 23 for a mile and then turned off on unpaved Willow Creek Road. Two miles later she reached Willow Creek Bridge. As she paused on the ancient bridge, the sky grew dark and the wind picked up. She felt a few drops of rain. The weather looked stormy, and she decided to seek shelter.
Doc Peterson, who owned the local pharmacy, kept a hunting and fishing cabin several hundred feet beyond the bridge. She should make it before the storm hit.
Sue reached the cabin just as the rain started. She entered the unlocked door to wait out the storm.
The weather grew worse. Hail pounded on the roof, and the cabin shook as the wind began to roar. She looked out the window--just in time to see the twister. The writhing funnel crossed the area where the bridge was located and roared off into the piney woods. Terrified, she watched until the twister was out of sight.
When the weather slackened, she left the cabin and went to check on the bridge. Her fears were confirmed. The old bridge was completely destroyed. She noted that Willow Creek was rising and already above its normal level. Lightning flashed nearby, followed by a loud clap of thunder. Sue hurried back to the cabin.
The spirit of Drusilla Murdock sensed the approach of the violent storm. She felt its fury as the old bridge exploded. The destruction of the bridge set her free; the witch hunter’s bonds were finally broken. But she was not yet completely free, for she was still a spirit without a body. She knew what she must do to gain complete freedom--she must seek and possess a body to host her spirit.
Sue returned to the cabin and sat down to organize her thoughts. With the bridge destroyed, she was stranded. The creek was narrow, but deep, and she couldn’t swim. There was no phone in the cabin, and she didn’t pack her own cell phone. Her mother worked the four-to-midnight shift at the plant and wouldn’t miss her until tomorrow morning. She had no choice but to spend the night in the cabin.
She searched the cabin, which consisted of one small room and a bathroom. The room held a small refrigerator, a hot plate, two folding chairs, a card table, and a couch.
Her search produced a kerosene lamp, a box of kitchen matches, a plastic can with kerosene, a hunting knife, and a spy novel. She found a Diet Pepsi and two granola bars in her pack--at least she wouldn’t go hungry. She wasn’t into spy novels, but it was something to read.
The storm moved past, but occasional showers and gusts of wind continued. She tried the light switch. Nothing. She was glad Doc Peterson had left the kerosene lamp on hand for emergencies. She could tolerate just about anything but darkness. She’d feared the darkness as a child, imagining fearsome demons lurking in the shadows and waiting to pounce on her. She had never quite outgrown her fears.
Darkness fell, and she lit the lamp. She made herself comfortable on the couch and opened the spy novel. She would read the novel until she fell asleep.
Midnight came. Her eyes were weary from reading by the flickering light, but she was not sleepy. She decided to rest her eyes before finishing the novel. She leaned back and let her eyes roam around the room.
The flickering light of the lamp created shadows on the walls that darted around like restless ghosts. A wind driven tree limb scraped the cabin wall. Her thoughts drifted to spooky stories about Willow Creek Bridge. It was said that on some nights an apparition appeared there.
“No time to be thinking of such things, darn it. So far I’ve managed to keep my stupid imagination in check. I’d better get back to my reading to keep my mind occupied.”
The spirit of Drusilla left the bridge and followed the creek until she reached a spot where a small settlement had once existed. Finding the settlement no longer there, she returned to the bridge. She then followed the road until she came upon a shack, where she sensed a lone dweller within. She sensed that the dweller was a female.
The dweller would provide a body to host Drusilla’s spirit. But Drusilla must entice the dweller to willingly open the door to her, only thus granting Drusilla the power to spellbind and possess the woman. With no voice of her own, Drusilla evoked a voice heard only in the dweller’s mind: “Help me. Please help me.”
Sue resumed her reading, and after a time she began to feel sleepy. She nodded, then jerked awake as the book fell from her hands. As she reached down to pick up the book, she heard a voice. Startled, she sat up--but then decided the voice was only in her mind. Her silly imagination at work again. She leaned back and closed her eyes.
Her eyes snapped open as she heard the voice again, this time louder. A call for help?
She arose, clutching the hunting knife in her hand as she walked to the door. Her scalp tingled and chills ran through her body.
“Who’s there?” Her voice was shrill, a near squeak.
“Help me. Please. I need your help.”
It was a woman’s voice. A gut feeling came over Sue that she must not open the door. This was not a woman, but a demon posing as a woman, waiting in the shadows to pounce on Sue the instant she opened the door.
“There I go again. My stupid imagination. The woman may have been injured by the twister. It would be cruel to turn her away.” She released the bolt and opened the door.
As she stood facing the darkness, she was suddenly overcome with intense fear. Something terribly evil was there--and this time she knew that it was not her imagination. She tried to slam the door, but her body would not obey her. She was horrified as a cold, numb feeling crept through her body.
Against her will, she felt her body moving. Zombie-like she moved toward the couch. She sat down and stared at the open door, only a few feet away. She strained every muscle, trying to make a dash for the door. But her body felt as though it weighed a ton. She could barely flex her fingers. Her hand still held the hunting knife, but how could she fight something she could not see?
Sue grew aware that something was happening to her. Something horrible was entering and taking possession of her body--she felt that her very soul was in danger. Horrified, she fought against the foul, unclean thing that was invading her body, knowing that her struggle was futile.
As the foul thing invaded her body, its thoughts began to seep into her mind. She grew aware that the thing possessing her was an evil spirit--the spirit of an evil witch named Drusilla.
A movement at the door caught her eye. Something was entering the still open door--an animal? Sue caught a glimpse of red fur. The dog! It had followed her after all. The dog faced her, bared its teeth, and a low growl came from its throat.
Sue sensed Drusilla’s panic at the sight of the dog; the witch immediately withdrew.
“Listen to me,” the voice of Drusilla was urgent. “I cannot allow this dreadful animal near me. The beast is a bane to me--a threat to my immortal life. Restrain the beast and I will make a bargain with you.”
Sue felt the numbness leave her body; she could move again. Her first impulse was to run for the door, but she knew that the witch could regain control of her in an instant. She went to the dog, knelt down, and held it.
It came to Sue that only a short while ago she was terrified of unseen things waiting in the shadows. Now that she was actually facing such a horror, she was amazed at the calm that had come over her.
“What is your deal, Drusilla?”
“The only way to counter the bane of a red dog is to spill its blood. Use the knife in your hand to slay the beast, and in return I will not only release you from my spell and spare your life, but I have the power to grant anything you desire. You have only to tell me your wish.”
“But you are invisible. How can the dog harm you when it can’t even see you? Why don’t you just go away?
“I am not invisible to the beast, and its bane holds me, forbidding me to flee. Slay it and I will reward you.”
Sue looked into the trusting eyes of the dog. “No deal. I will not harm this dog. Besides, do you really expect me to believe that you would keep your word?”
“I swear it by the Dark Powers. I can find another body to possess. I vow that you will be granted anything you wish. Is this simple creature worth losing all that?”
“I will not harm this dog.”
“You are a fool. You make it difficult for me, but I can force you to do my will. I will see that you kill the creature, and then I will punish you.
Sue, still holding the dog, tried to release it. But it was too late--she felt the cold numbness once again as Drusilla regained control of her body.
Against her will, Sue moved the hunting knife toward the dog’s throat. With every ounce of strength in her body, she resisted. She managed to keep the knife away from the dog’s throat, and for a few moments, she seemed to be holding her own. But she began to tire, and every muscle, nerve and fiber of her body seemed to desert her all at once. She collapsed, her body draped over the big dog.
Drusilla’s voice was gloating. “Where is your resistance now, you simple fool?”
Sue felt her unresisting fingers tightening around the hilt of the knife. Her arm raised, poised to plunge the knife into the dog pinned beneath her body.
But her body was in an awkward position, preventing her arm from reaching the dog. She felt Drusilla shifting her body to gain a better position. But at the moment her body shifted, she heard the dog snarl and felt it squirm from under her inert form.
“No! Nooo...” Drusilla’s shrieks filled Sue’s mind for a horrible moment--and then silence. Drusilla was no more.
After a space, Sue’s strength began to return. Painfully, she struggled to her feet. It was almost daylight now. Soon her mother would discover her absence, and help would be on the way.
The dog wagged his tail as Sue stroked his head. “You‘ve got a home now, Red. We’ve been thinking of getting a dog, and you’ll do just fine.”
Sue and Red settled down to wait for the rescuers.
.
THE SPIRIT OF DRUSILLA
By Donald H Sullivan
Drusilla Murdock strained at her bonds as she surveyed the crowd that gathered to witness her execution. Among them she spotted Jonathon Keyes, renowned witch hunter, who had been responsible for her capture and trial. A white-hot hatred welled up within her as she beheld the man. By Donald H Sullivan
The witch hunter was moving through the crowd, coming toward her. He walked up and faced her.
“You’re the most powerful and evil witch I’ve ever encountered, Drusilla. You’ve brought misfortune, sickness, and even death to the villagers. But they need fear you no longer; I’ve managed to bind your spells.
“I know that you’re thinking of revenge, but I’m taking measures to prevent that. I accept that your spirit may survive the fire, but I have found a way to trap it. Your ashes will be spread on a bridge spanning running water, thus trapping your soul at the bridge. There you will remain until the bridge itself crumbles. Your spirit will sleep there for a long time, Drusilla.”
She laughed at him. “You can trap my spirit for a time, but you cannot kill it because you have not found my secret bane--though I know you have tried.”
“Yes, I’ll admit that. But I concede that a witch’s bane is nearly impossible to learn--it could be anything from a magpie to a milkweed. But I promise you, if I knew your bane I would surely use it to destroy your evil soul.”
She knew that the thing that was her bane was not to be found in or near the village. Her smile mocked him. “Perhaps my bane is rat droppings. Why don’t you try that?”
He turned and walked away. As he disappeared into the crowd, Drusilla’s gaze wandered to the nearby bridge where her spirit would be trapped--for a very long time.
Sue Robbins enjoyed hiking. Today was Saturday, her day off, and it was a perfect spring day for a hike in the woods. After breakfast she wrote a note to her mother, who was still asleep, and left it on the kitchen table. She strapped on her pack and set out.
She had nearly reached the town limit when she saw a commotion in the ball field off to her left. Two young boys were laughing and throwing rocks at something. It was a dog tied to a stake. She recognized them as the Wilson boys, a pair of troublemakers. She went out onto the field, and the pair turned and ran when they saw her coming. They laughed and shouted obscenities as they ran.
Sue untied the dog, a large red mixed breed. Other than a slightly swollen eye, the dog looked okay. There was no ID on his collar. She found some oatmeal cookies in her pack and gave them to the dog. She turned to go, and the dog followed her. She shooed the dog away, hoping that he would go home--if he had one.
Sue continued on her way. But as she walked along the country road, something began to trouble her--a premonition that some terrible fate was awaiting her. Death--perhaps something even worse than death--awaited her. She stopped, turned around, and hurried back toward town.
“Me and my wild imagination. I’ve worked too hard to overcome my stupid fears to let them rule me now.”
She turned around once more, hesitated for a moment, and resolutely resumed her hiking. She followed route 23 for a mile and then turned off on unpaved Willow Creek Road. Two miles later she reached Willow Creek Bridge. As she paused on the ancient bridge, the sky grew dark and the wind picked up. She felt a few drops of rain. The weather looked stormy, and she decided to seek shelter.
Doc Peterson, who owned the local pharmacy, kept a hunting and fishing cabin several hundred feet beyond the bridge. She should make it before the storm hit.
Sue reached the cabin just as the rain started. She entered the unlocked door to wait out the storm.
The weather grew worse. Hail pounded on the roof, and the cabin shook as the wind began to roar. She looked out the window--just in time to see the twister. The writhing funnel crossed the area where the bridge was located and roared off into the piney woods. Terrified, she watched until the twister was out of sight.
When the weather slackened, she left the cabin and went to check on the bridge. Her fears were confirmed. The old bridge was completely destroyed. She noted that Willow Creek was rising and already above its normal level. Lightning flashed nearby, followed by a loud clap of thunder. Sue hurried back to the cabin.
The spirit of Drusilla Murdock sensed the approach of the violent storm. She felt its fury as the old bridge exploded. The destruction of the bridge set her free; the witch hunter’s bonds were finally broken. But she was not yet completely free, for she was still a spirit without a body. She knew what she must do to gain complete freedom--she must seek and possess a body to host her spirit.
Sue returned to the cabin and sat down to organize her thoughts. With the bridge destroyed, she was stranded. The creek was narrow, but deep, and she couldn’t swim. There was no phone in the cabin, and she didn’t pack her own cell phone. Her mother worked the four-to-midnight shift at the plant and wouldn’t miss her until tomorrow morning. She had no choice but to spend the night in the cabin.
She searched the cabin, which consisted of one small room and a bathroom. The room held a small refrigerator, a hot plate, two folding chairs, a card table, and a couch.
Her search produced a kerosene lamp, a box of kitchen matches, a plastic can with kerosene, a hunting knife, and a spy novel. She found a Diet Pepsi and two granola bars in her pack--at least she wouldn’t go hungry. She wasn’t into spy novels, but it was something to read.
The storm moved past, but occasional showers and gusts of wind continued. She tried the light switch. Nothing. She was glad Doc Peterson had left the kerosene lamp on hand for emergencies. She could tolerate just about anything but darkness. She’d feared the darkness as a child, imagining fearsome demons lurking in the shadows and waiting to pounce on her. She had never quite outgrown her fears.
Darkness fell, and she lit the lamp. She made herself comfortable on the couch and opened the spy novel. She would read the novel until she fell asleep.
Midnight came. Her eyes were weary from reading by the flickering light, but she was not sleepy. She decided to rest her eyes before finishing the novel. She leaned back and let her eyes roam around the room.
The flickering light of the lamp created shadows on the walls that darted around like restless ghosts. A wind driven tree limb scraped the cabin wall. Her thoughts drifted to spooky stories about Willow Creek Bridge. It was said that on some nights an apparition appeared there.
“No time to be thinking of such things, darn it. So far I’ve managed to keep my stupid imagination in check. I’d better get back to my reading to keep my mind occupied.”
The spirit of Drusilla left the bridge and followed the creek until she reached a spot where a small settlement had once existed. Finding the settlement no longer there, she returned to the bridge. She then followed the road until she came upon a shack, where she sensed a lone dweller within. She sensed that the dweller was a female.
The dweller would provide a body to host Drusilla’s spirit. But Drusilla must entice the dweller to willingly open the door to her, only thus granting Drusilla the power to spellbind and possess the woman. With no voice of her own, Drusilla evoked a voice heard only in the dweller’s mind: “Help me. Please help me.”
Sue resumed her reading, and after a time she began to feel sleepy. She nodded, then jerked awake as the book fell from her hands. As she reached down to pick up the book, she heard a voice. Startled, she sat up--but then decided the voice was only in her mind. Her silly imagination at work again. She leaned back and closed her eyes.
Her eyes snapped open as she heard the voice again, this time louder. A call for help?
She arose, clutching the hunting knife in her hand as she walked to the door. Her scalp tingled and chills ran through her body.
“Who’s there?” Her voice was shrill, a near squeak.
“Help me. Please. I need your help.”
It was a woman’s voice. A gut feeling came over Sue that she must not open the door. This was not a woman, but a demon posing as a woman, waiting in the shadows to pounce on Sue the instant she opened the door.
“There I go again. My stupid imagination. The woman may have been injured by the twister. It would be cruel to turn her away.” She released the bolt and opened the door.
As she stood facing the darkness, she was suddenly overcome with intense fear. Something terribly evil was there--and this time she knew that it was not her imagination. She tried to slam the door, but her body would not obey her. She was horrified as a cold, numb feeling crept through her body.
Against her will, she felt her body moving. Zombie-like she moved toward the couch. She sat down and stared at the open door, only a few feet away. She strained every muscle, trying to make a dash for the door. But her body felt as though it weighed a ton. She could barely flex her fingers. Her hand still held the hunting knife, but how could she fight something she could not see?
Sue grew aware that something was happening to her. Something horrible was entering and taking possession of her body--she felt that her very soul was in danger. Horrified, she fought against the foul, unclean thing that was invading her body, knowing that her struggle was futile.
As the foul thing invaded her body, its thoughts began to seep into her mind. She grew aware that the thing possessing her was an evil spirit--the spirit of an evil witch named Drusilla.
A movement at the door caught her eye. Something was entering the still open door--an animal? Sue caught a glimpse of red fur. The dog! It had followed her after all. The dog faced her, bared its teeth, and a low growl came from its throat.
Sue sensed Drusilla’s panic at the sight of the dog; the witch immediately withdrew.
“Listen to me,” the voice of Drusilla was urgent. “I cannot allow this dreadful animal near me. The beast is a bane to me--a threat to my immortal life. Restrain the beast and I will make a bargain with you.”
Sue felt the numbness leave her body; she could move again. Her first impulse was to run for the door, but she knew that the witch could regain control of her in an instant. She went to the dog, knelt down, and held it.
It came to Sue that only a short while ago she was terrified of unseen things waiting in the shadows. Now that she was actually facing such a horror, she was amazed at the calm that had come over her.
“What is your deal, Drusilla?”
“The only way to counter the bane of a red dog is to spill its blood. Use the knife in your hand to slay the beast, and in return I will not only release you from my spell and spare your life, but I have the power to grant anything you desire. You have only to tell me your wish.”
“But you are invisible. How can the dog harm you when it can’t even see you? Why don’t you just go away?
“I am not invisible to the beast, and its bane holds me, forbidding me to flee. Slay it and I will reward you.”
Sue looked into the trusting eyes of the dog. “No deal. I will not harm this dog. Besides, do you really expect me to believe that you would keep your word?”
“I swear it by the Dark Powers. I can find another body to possess. I vow that you will be granted anything you wish. Is this simple creature worth losing all that?”
“I will not harm this dog.”
“You are a fool. You make it difficult for me, but I can force you to do my will. I will see that you kill the creature, and then I will punish you.
Sue, still holding the dog, tried to release it. But it was too late--she felt the cold numbness once again as Drusilla regained control of her body.
Against her will, Sue moved the hunting knife toward the dog’s throat. With every ounce of strength in her body, she resisted. She managed to keep the knife away from the dog’s throat, and for a few moments, she seemed to be holding her own. But she began to tire, and every muscle, nerve and fiber of her body seemed to desert her all at once. She collapsed, her body draped over the big dog.
Drusilla’s voice was gloating. “Where is your resistance now, you simple fool?”
Sue felt her unresisting fingers tightening around the hilt of the knife. Her arm raised, poised to plunge the knife into the dog pinned beneath her body.
But her body was in an awkward position, preventing her arm from reaching the dog. She felt Drusilla shifting her body to gain a better position. But at the moment her body shifted, she heard the dog snarl and felt it squirm from under her inert form.
“No! Nooo...” Drusilla’s shrieks filled Sue’s mind for a horrible moment--and then silence. Drusilla was no more.
After a space, Sue’s strength began to return. Painfully, she struggled to her feet. It was almost daylight now. Soon her mother would discover her absence, and help would be on the way.
The dog wagged his tail as Sue stroked his head. “You‘ve got a home now, Red. We’ve been thinking of getting a dog, and you’ll do just fine.”
Sue and Red settled down to wait for the rescuers.
The End
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