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Beyond the Cottage of the Damned
- Beyond the Cottage of the Damned -
The Frightening Sequel to Cottage of the Damned
Part One: Return
“My name is Allison, and I am bound to a demon I hate but whom I am forced to serve. He’s a bastard… he’s driven me to murder and worse! But I made a pact in order to save my life, and now there is no going back.” Such were her thoughts as Allison drove back to the cottage on Halloween, one year after the events that trapped her there. What would happen if she refused to go back? She did not want to contemplate that. The demon was powerful, and might come looking for her. It might get free of those woods, and it might kill innocent people to feed its’ insatiable hunger. No, better for everyone if she just keeps bringing it evil people to consume. And that is what she did that year, luring people who truly deserved to perish, people no one would miss… to that cottage by the lake, in the heart of the old woods. All year, the demon feasted and in fact grew stronger. She hated him, though he was her man now. He possessed her dead lover’s corpse even now, and he waited for her to come home. She had brought him his meal for the day, waited on him, cared for his needs. Now she was coming home after a trip to town for supplies… and she was angry, tried, and utterly fed up with being only a servant. She wanted more, much more from her life than that! But how could she fight something capable of possessing the living and the dead, something that can get inside your head and drive you insane? She had to think. So the car sped down the old roads, past the rusty signs, and beyond the trees that always seems to be reaching out, encircling the sides of the road. It was late in the day, around 5:00 in the afternoon by her car’s clock’s reckoning… and the sky was that fiery pinkish hue that you see just before darkness hits after twilight. The car windows were open, and Allison could hear the bats in the trees, she could hear crows in the fields, and she could smell the scent of the woods as she drove down the old dirt road, leaving the main highway behind, and finally stopped at the edge of the cold, mysterious lake and its’ rugged shoreline. A local legend said a woman drowned in the lake once, during the 1700s. A colonial woman, accused by her community of being a witch! The witch fled, pursued by the angry mob, and tried to swim across the lake to escape them. She drowned, so went the legend. Allison got out of the vehicle and walked over to the lake, looking at her reflection in the water. She was quite cute looking, with her curly blonde hair… just a bit lighter than it had been a year ago and just a bit curlier too. It went well with her green eyes, though her features were a tad on the sharp side. Even so, men found her cute. Even the victims she brought to here!
Realizing she was lost in thought, Allison broke away from the shore of the lake and regarded the old cottage nearby. It was a hateful place to her, a place in which she and others had suffered unspeakably. But her will was not entirely free, not yet! She reached into the pocket of the baggy harem-style pants she wore and withdrew a small talisman shaped like an eye in a pyramid. She had purchased the talisman from an occult shop in town, and she was told it gave the one who held it power over demonic forces. On the backside of the talisman were spells etched into the silver of the medallion itself. She had it fastened to a chain, and she intended to wear it as a necklace. She secured it around her neck and tucked in under her puffy sleeved sweatshirt. The demon would never notice she was wearing it, and if all went according to plan Allison would stand a chance this time against the fiend. A raven then suddenly came out from the treetops and landed on a stump of an old oak near where the car was parked. “Beware!” called the Raven. “Beware! Beware!” Allison picked up a rock and threw it at the raven. “Get out of here, you stupid bird!” she yelled, and the bird flew off into the forest. It was now night, and the stars were out. So many stars! So deceptively beautiful, you would never know the horror that could befall in this place. Allison didn’t want to know, but beggars can’t be choosers and she wasn’t the one who made all the choices. Who would be the beggar after tonight? She mused, while she opened the trunk of the car and picked up the bags filled with groceries and other necessities. She walked up to the door of the cottage, unlocked it with her free hand, and went inside. She made her way through the main room with its’ roaring fireplace, and passed through the door to the kitchen. Everything was silent as a graveyard, and not in a good way! The woman sat the bags down and proceeded to put everything away. Pitiful moans and shrieks came from the bedroom across the hall, where the demon’s latest meal was still dying. The man was a local drunk who beat his children and forced himself on his wife until she cried. A disgusting man, a fat monster who left his beer bottles by the side of the road for the town to clean up because he was too lazy to do so himself. Now, his belly was ripped open and his bloated intestines were spewed all over the bedroom rug. “God damn it! How am I going to get the stains out this time?” Allison speculated, as a housewife might speculate on the annoyance of getting pasta sauce out of the carpeting. Her mind was so used to the horrors now, or so she told herself, that these routines had become second nature to her over the past year. Her hand went instinctively to the talisman around her neck. “Soon, I’ll have the power I need. Very soon!”
The demon… Charles, Allison still called him… was feasting on the remains of the drunk, his unnaturally enlarged mouth and its’ serrated, fang-like teeth biting and tearing through flesh, sinew, and even bone. His teeth pulled, tore, and yanked pieces of the dying man apart like a ravenous beast might dine upon a kill in the wild. Allison watched her former lover as he did this horrid act, and she shook her head. “I don’t even love him anymore.” She admitted to herself. “I just want him to stop.” She thought. None of these notions did she dare speak aloud! “Are you almost done yet?” She asked, and the thing that had once been Charles replied: “Soon, bitch! Soon! Wait your turn, our fun will come later.” And she wanted to throw up, thinking about how she and the demon passed their nights. “Fun” he called it. Is that what he called it? Allison’s hand went to her breast, which was still sore after the previous night’s “Fun”. She would not allow it any longer, not tonight. Not any more nights! “I’m looking forward to it, lover.” She cooed, and the demon ignored her and continued its’ gory feasting. Allison knew no weapon could hard that creature… God knows, she had tried enough of that in the past, and each time it did not end well at all. So she made her way down into the cellar, and to the altar there. The shrine to the dark gods of the forest! It was more elaborate now than it had been a year ago. A stone slab served for the altar, inscribed with runes in old Nordic script, the inscriptions painted with human blood. A pentagram sat in the center of the altar, surrounded by several grotesque statues. In the middle of the inverted star, sat a silver chalice in which was sat a green emerald. Once, that gem had graced a darkly magical dagger, but the dagger was no more and now only the emerald remained. “I wonder what it is that ever possessed me to throw the old blade into the lake?” Allison mused, smiling. She had her reasons. She reached out and picked up the emerald, which was covered in her own blood, the same that filled the chalice. Blood she had shed from her palms during several dark rituals. The emerald was totally stained with it on its’ reverse side. She put the emerald into her pants’ pocket… it held tremendous evil power, but sometimes it takes evil to fight evil. She offered a prayer to the old, dark gods and knelt before the altar. “I want to be free!” she willed, with all her heart. “Help me, to obtain what I desire.” And suddenly a voice behind her cried: “Beware!” and when she spun around to look, it was the raven from earlier. “How did you get into the house?” She asked of it, fully aware that she was talking to an animal. The bird replied: “I go where I am called.” And then Allison realized that this raven was no simple animal. “What it is that you wish of me?” the bird asked.
Charles was not used to being kept waiting. “Charles!” the demon spat. “I hate that name!” for he had a far more ancient name, one mortals used to fear. Now, only his meals feared him… his victims. Were it not for his nightly diversions with the human female, he would sure have gone mad from the boredom. He wanted to be free, free to spread his malice and dark influence over all: of the world, to go where he would and do whatever he pleased. When he saw Allison, he licked his lips in anticipation of her nightly debasement. He would not be gentle with her tonight. He wanted to hear her scream! Allison had other plans, however. “Tell me, lover…” she began, “How badly do you want to be free of this place?” and the demon angrily shrieked in a guttural voice that sounded like someone being strangled: “Do not mock me, slut. Service me.” But the woman was done with being a servant, done with sucking a dead man’s cock every night, done with letting him put that… obscene member… between her legs, and even in her rear. She knew what awaited her if she failed, and she was intent on not failing. She sauntered over to the bed upon which the monster reclined. The remains of the dead drunk were piled in a corner, flies already buzzing around it and the stink bad enough to make her eyes sting. Hardly conducive to romance! As if romance had anything to do with any of this. The woman deliberately swung her hips suggestively as she walked over and climbed unto the bed. “I want you.” She said to the demon. “Excuse me?” Charles replied. “You usually cry, scream, beg… anything but this! Do you actually enjoy… pain?” And the demon’s tongue extended from its’ face like a snake, getting far longer than any tongue should be, slithering towards Allison. How many times, that tongue had violated her! “Yes, I want you… to DIE!” she screamed, and tore the talisman from her neck, pressing it into the demon’s tongue as hard as if she were banging flint rocks together to try and make fire. In her other hand, she grasped the bloody emerald tightly and it was flowing with green light that filtered out between her clenched fingers. The demon made a horrible shrieking sound, and pale smoke rose from where the accursed metal embedded itself into the tongue’s foul flesh. That flesh was burning, and a kind of fire crept up from the spot and began to cover the creature. The green fire entered the fiend’s mouth first, and filled it like water fills a drowning person’s lungs. Then, the thing that had once been called Charles burned alive from the inside out. The demon was banished to whatever hell it first emerged from, and the cottage was exorcised of its’ evil forever. The ashes and charred bits of bone on the bed would be easy enough for Allison to sweep up. She was used to such messes.
Part Two: Burning
The wood burned and crackled on the hearth, as Allison reclined on the couch by the window. The clock was still stuck at 2:00, and was beyond repair. She had tried all year to fix it, bought parts for it… and even took it to a professional once. But always, it remained broken and still chimed every night at that same hour. “The fucking clock is cursed!” she laughed, and took a hammer to it, smashing it to bits. “Not anymore!” she giggled, and then sighed audibly, lying back down on the couch once again. “Now what?” she thought. For she had no immediate plans for her life, now that she was free for the first time since she and her now fully deceased boyfriend decided to go vacationing to this unholy place. She could just leave and go home, see how her family was doing. But they always hated her for being different… for having a different style, different beliefs, and even a different way of looking at life than most people she knew. “Fuck!” she swore, realizing she had not ever really given this that much thought. Then, as if on cue, the raven was there upon the mantle above the hearth, and it said to the woman: “Sucks, doesn’t it?” to which Allison replied: “Yeah, it really does!” then she realized what she was doing and sat up, startled. “What the hell are you still doing here? I thought we had a deal!” and the raven croaked, saying: “We did, we do… I helped you get rid of my greatest rival, so we are both free now. In a way, he’s free too! So everyone wins. But I cannot help but notice how miserable you seem to be. Perhaps I can help?” But Allison was not stupid, and learned one thing from dealing with demons: it never ends well. “Look, I don’t need any more help, okay? So just go fly off and play king of the forest or whatever the fuck it is you do… and freaking leave me alone. I’ve had enough supernatural bullshit for one year, thank you very much.” Then, the raven flew down and pecked Allison on the left hand. “Ouch! Why the hell did you do that?” she screamed, and the bird replied: “To remind you, that you are mortal. You can feel pain, you can feel pleasure too… and sometimes, mortals need that reminder! Farewell, Allison.” And with that, the raven flew out an open window and was gone into the night. When Allison finally fell asleep, she dreamed that she was trapped in Charles’ dead body, unable to escape, unable to be herself: because she was losing herself in him. Finally, she ripped off his face with her bare hands and underneath it was her own face. “Free! Free at last!” that face cried, and she was crying the same thing. She was crying out those exact words, when she felt someone’s hands shaking her awake. It was a tall woman, a stranger, and whoever she was… she was dressed in clothing straight out of the 1700s. Things had just begun to get strange once again!
“Allison, wake up! I need your help.” The woman said. The woman had long black hair cascading down in delicate ringlets about her shoulders and down her back. She was beautiful, pale, and her hair was strangely wet. In fact, the woman was absolutely drenched, and standing in a puddle as she spoke. Allison was horrified to see that the woman’s beautiful skin… had in places the telltale green of putrefaction. “Oh my God, no! You’re not that girl from the lake, are you? The one who drowned?” and the dead woman nodded in agreement. “Yes, Allison, I have come from the lake.” And Allison shook her head, unable to believer her bad luck. “Great, just great! So let me guess… you want me to help you find rest, go into the light, find peace, something like that, yes?” But the dead woman shook her head. “No, actually, I am here to help you.” And the pale lips of the woman smiled serenely as she said that. “I told your master the raven that I wasn’t interested, so go back and tell him I’m still not interested! I don’t want to owe any favors to demons.” But the dead woman clarified: “No, I am not from him, I do not even know who he is, this raven demon you speak of. My name is Rebecca, and I know what it is you truly want. I can help you, if you let me.” Then Allison stood up, looked Rebecca squarely in her dark, jet black eyes, and studied her for a few minutes. “What will it cost me?” she asked, and Rebecca answered: “Nothing you cannot afford to do. I only want you to help me destroy that shrine in the cellar… its’ power has bound me to this place ever since the former owners of this cottage tried to summon me and make me their servant. When you killed them, you enabled me to roam freely, no longer bound within the lake where they kept me in a kind of limbo as punishment for my refusal to serve them. When you dispatched the demon who: was lord of these woods and restored the raven as the rightful ruler… you made it possible for the shrine of the Old Ones to be destroyed. All it takes is the will to see it done, and once I am free I will be able to grant you a single request with no hidden price needing to be paid.” Allison thought it over for a moment, then asked: “So what’s the catch? What aren’t you telling me!” then the dead woman smiled almost sinisterly, put her hands on her hips, and muttered: “Only that the raven will try to stop you. You will have to face a god now. A demon god from the ancient times before man… a god with the power of the forest at his command.” Then Allison said in a rather bored tone: “Oh, is that all? Let’s do this then!” because she still had the talisman and the emerald, and needed fear no evil. Because her own evil could overcome it, if she kept her will strong enough. And that was something she was becoming very used to.
As the two women made their way towards the cellar, the sound of glass crashing and breaking could be heard, along with the sound of large, heavy wings flapping. The raven had returned, and was very angry. “Don’t look at it, just keep walking.” Cautioned Rebecca, as she held Allison’s hand and drew her along. “Beware! Beware!” croaked the raven, though: neither woman paid it any heed …and without looking back, Allison opened the way into the cellar and brandished her flashlight before her. The same one she always used when going down there, the small hand flashlight she kept in her pocket at all times. The cellar was always dark! It was the oldest part of the property and predated the cottage itself by generations, if not by hundreds of years. Some legends said it was first dug: as a temple to the Nordic gods by Vikings when they came to America in ancient times. Others say a group of survivors from the failed Roanoke colony built it as a shelter, before they fell prey to the evils of the woods and disappeared entirely. But however it came to be, it was here and Allison now went down into it, to challenge its’ power and put an end to it for all of time. “Remind me again why I am doing this?” She said, half-jokingly, to Rebecca, who smiled knowingly and said nothing. “Yeah, I thought so.” Muttered Allison and the two hastened down, and over to the place where the shrine squatted. The sound of flapping wings could still be heard, but the two women still ignored it and concentrated at the task before them. “So how do I destroy the shrine?” asked Allison, to which her companion replied: “You must smash the emerald in the middle of the pentagram. That will release the stone’s power and allow it to consume the shrine in its’ flames. Only that can purify this place and break the raven’s power!” But before she could act, Allison heard the wings beating right behind them. “He’s here, Rebecca! There’s no time!” and the dead woman screamed: “Do it now, Allison! Smash the emerald with your talisman. Quickly, before he can…” but before she could finish her sentence, something grabbed Rebecca by the hair and pulled her backwards, into the darkness. Awful sounds emerged, and Allison did not want to know what those sounds signified. She sat the emerald down in the middle of the pentagram, and made ready to bring the talisman down upon it… when something grabbed her by the hair and pulled her backward as well. She was being dragged across the cellar floor, back into the dark without her flashlight, which she had dropped in the struggle while trying to set it down on the altar prior to smashing the emerald. “Let me go, you ugly… bird! Let me go!” she screamed, kicking and punching at the monster that was dragging her. It was no longer a simple bird, but something large and with a hulking form. A demon of grotesque shape! It was chuckling lustily as it pawed her hungrily.
Hands were upon her, tearing at her clothes. She felt them pulling off her sweatshirt, tearing down her pants and twisting aside her undergarments… a finger was inserted into her, and she screamed. Something clamped a hand over her mouth, as it wedged itself between her legs. “I offered you my help, Allison! You refused me.” Chuckled the beast before her, its’ leathery black wings stretching out behind it. The monster had six clawed arms, two of which held her arms, two of which grasped her legs, and two of which were attempting to violate her. She kept screaming, kicking, trying to get free… but it was useless. “I will enjoy impregnating you, Allison. Making you bear my offspring. Making you become one of us.” The fiend laughed, and Allison looked on in horror as the thing’s member drew closer to her womanhood with each breath. If it got inside of her, she would be lost! Then… suddenly… Rebecca appeared and pulled the demon off of the struggling woman with a ferocious strength. “Get off of her, you vile devil!” shrieked the dead woman, and Allison scrambled to her feet, dressed herself once more, and then ran as fast as she could to get away from the section of the cellar in which she had been dragged. She spat at the raven devil before leaving it to its’ conflict with Rebecca. “Fucker!” she hissed, satisfied in that minor bit of revenge. If she could manage to destroy the emerald, it would also stop that monster for good… and that would be a far better revenge even yet. The talisman was still around her neck, since she had not yet gotten the chance to remove it when she made ready to smash the emerald before… and it was glowing with an inner fire that made her chest feel tingling with an odd burning sensation. It was trying to break free of her control, attempting to manifest whatever power was really within it. Its’ glow was red, blood red, and it was an evil glow. The eye in the pyramid on the talisman glared balefully. Soon, Allison stumbled, half-feeling her way to the shrine. She was crawling for what seemed an eternity before finally reaching it. She found her flashlight, turned it on, and sat it on the altar so she could finally see what she was doing. The emerald was exactly where it had been placed, in the center of the inverted pentagram. Now was the time to act! She took off her talisman, raised it high into the air in her right hand, clenching it tightly. Then, she brought it down upon the green gemstone with a terrible cracking sound. The red fire met the green fire, and there was a blinding flash and something of an explosion that hurled Allison backward away from the altar. The raven devil was shrieking and screaming as the stone altar blasted apart, the statues upon its’ surface crumbling to dust along with it… as fire consumed everything in sight in an inferno of heat and power! Allison ran up from the cellar, just in time to escape the blast. Everything began to shake fiercely.
Part Three: Freedom
The cellar was collapsing, crumbling in upon itself: as the floorboards of the cottage were breaking, snapping much as twigs snap… as the old house began to break apart. Allison wasted no time in escaping out the cottage’s front door, just as the entire structure was crushed by the forces she had unleashed by the destruction of the evil emerald along with the magical talisman that had saved her from a fate truly worse than death. As the rubble and broken wood settled, an unnatural quiet fell over everything. “Fuck!” Allison shouted, rubbing her hands through her hair, her eyes wide as she regarded the wreck before her. There was nothing left of the cottage or its’ foundation any longer, and what was left was sinking into the earth. Mounds of soil rushed up to engulf the whole of the structure, and within minutes the whole thing was buried deep under the ground, gone forever. The water of the lake was lapping upon its’ rocky shores, the sand and pebbles trailing off, swept by the waves that the explosion had stirred up. “Take that, you ugly bird.” She chuckled, giggling like a child after having said that. Perhaps she was going more than a little crazy by this point, but who wouldn’t? “Hey Rebecca!” she yelled out. “You fucking lied to me, you bitch! Where’s my wish? You’d suck as a genie!” She didn’t really expect anyone to answer her. Maybe Rebecca had just been a creation of her mind. She didn’t know, and didn’t want to know. Then it hit her… the car keys were gone! They must have fallen out of her pocket when the raven devil had tried to rape her. “Shit! Now how am I going to get home?” she mused. Because after all this, she decided she was going home, even if her family was totally nuts. She never had learned how to hotwire a car! So she started to walk, going down the old dirt road that led away from the lake, back to the highway. The woods had no power to stop her, as once they had a year ago. Tonight, all was normal as you could please, for it being Halloween. “Some fucking Halloween this turned out to be!” she chuckled. The animals that watched her as she went, looked at her fearfully, their low cunning no longer filled with malice. Had they learned to in fact respect her? Soon, the weary woman was strolling down the highway past woods and farms, putting the cottage and its’ damned, doomed, and dead souls far behind her. She would never be the same woman she had been before a year ago! She take taken human lives, fought ancient demons and gods, and dealt with spirits of the dead. How do you come back from all that and still live a normal life? “So this is freedom!” she thought. “Hmmm. I think I like it!” but she was not alone. Every several feet, she could hear footsteps behind her, but then when she turned to look nothing was there whatsoever.
Out of the corner of her eye, Allison could see something. What it was… was impossible to tell, but it was something all right! She imagined it was some animal that had decided to follow her out of the woods, but animals make different sounds from what did indeed sound exactly like a person’s footsteps. “Honey, wait up!” called a voice, and it was Charles. He was alive and well, and apparently unharmed, and no longer possessed. She spun around, punched him square in the face and then screamed: “Fuck you!” at the top of her lungs. “I never want to see you again, you disgusting freak!” But Charles had no memory of what had transpired for the past year, and no understanding of why he had just been so abused. “Look, if it is because I lost the keys it’s no big deal. If we can reach town, we can always get it towed home and then we can take a cab or a bus or something. Look, I’m sorry, alright… its’ not my fault!” Allison then explained to Charles all that had transpired from the moment they reached the cottage to the moment it was destroyed. Then Charles said something totally unexpected: “Honey, there was never any cottage by that lake! We were going there to go camping for the weekend, remember?” But Allison was not buying that bullshit. “For the weekend, Charles? Then where the hell did we just spend a year of our lives we will never get back! A year in which: you, while possessed by some fucking demon… did all kinds of sick shit to me. Huh? Tell me that, asshole, if you’re so smart! Fucking don’t even try to tell me I’m crazy because I know I’m not.” And Charles then looked utterly perplexed. “A year? But its’ only been a day since we got here! The tent is still set up… if you want to go back and have some fun.” Then Allison smacked Charles hard across his face. “Fun? Do not EVER use that word around me again, you bastard! I’m going home, alone. You can go play with yourself for all I care. Drop dead, do the world a favor, you pervert!” Then Charles’ eyes started to glow red, and he smiled sinisterly. “I should have known you to not be so foolish as I had expected. Good! You fought me fair and square, little girl, and you won. I grant you your total freedom from me… I will return whence I came, and never trouble these woods again. However, you must keep your word and help Rebecca to find peace… for what good is your freedom, if she languishes in servitude to me for all eternity?” But Allison was no fool. She replied: “Look, jerk-off, I know the rules! Smash the emerald and the ghost lady goes free. So set her free and don’t be such a sore loser. As for me, I’m done with you, with her, with this place, and I’m going home. See you never!” and then she spun around and began to storm off down the highway. Only: to find Charles in front of her again.
“Okay, I’ll do it! Where is Rebecca? If it will get you off my back for good, I’ll help her.” And the demon led Allison back to the mound where the cottage used to be, and pointed to an arm sticking up out of the ground. “She is there!” the fiend pointed and stated. “Oh my God! Rebecca, honey, I’ll dig you out don’t worry.” Allison said, and then began to dig into the dirt with her bare hands as the demon watched, bored and anxious to return to his infernal home, where souls awaited their torments and other demons awaited the return of their brother. As she dug, he eyes saw things from Rebecca’s perspective. She was reliving the final moments of the dead witch’s life. “Burn her! Burn the witch!” cried the mob that chased her down as they ran across the woodlands in pursuit of her. The men amongst them had already had their way with Rebecca, and now there was murder in their eyes rather than lust. The women cared not either way, and the lot of them: were of a hive-like mind that sought the debasement and destruction of anyone who is different. They bore crude weapons designed to kill slowly and inflict pain, for they were without mercy. Puritans? What was so pure about this mob! Their God was nowhere to be found amongst them. Rebecca’s dress was torn, her thighs covered in blood from her stolen virtue… and her eyes streaked with tears. So what if she had worshiped the old Viking gods as her German ancestors once did? But where was Odin… or Wotan, as she preferred to call him! Why did he not come to save her? But something did, on that day. For on the waters of the lake she spied in the distance, Rebecca beheld a raven flying. One of her god’s messengers, surely! And so she made for the lake, and as she did so the raven led her out farther and farther. “If I follow the messenger bird, I will surely reach freedom!” she thought, but she never reached freedom, only death. Her body was tired from so much abuse, and from so much running… he arms and legs so heavy… so that she could swim only so far, and no farther. She felt the water come up over her head, felt it filling her lungs until they were crushed from it… and beheld only darkness as life and light faded from her eyes. Yet she lived on, in another form, on another plane of existence. And now, all she saw was dark and dirt, and the smell of earth was in her nostrils, the black soil was in her mouth, filling her lungs, crushing her anew. She was drowning in earth as she had drowned in water, and she would have screamed if she had been able to move her lips. All her strength was gone; she was utterly crushed! Allison was crying for Rebecca, tears streaming down her face. “Come on, just wait a little longer! You’ve waited this long… I’ll have you free in a moment.” And soon, Rebecca was finally free.
“She is dead now. Fully dead! She died knowing you cared for her, felt for her. That brought her peace, enabled her to go to her god.” Explained the demon to Allison. Rebecca’s body lay cold upon the soil from which it had been dug. “Now, we must bury her and give her the last rites.” And they buried her again, on the spot where the cottage used to be. Then, they said the last rites… thus allowing her spirit to depart for Valhalla. When Allison turned to look at the demon, the creature was gone, faded into the shadows whence it had come. The car was still sitting there by the lake, and next to it what should be there but the keys! Exactly: what Allison had been wishing for. “Thank you Rebecca! You rock, girl.” She yelled out, up at the heavens. Somewhere, she was certain Rebecca was smiling. Finally, Allison got in the car, started it up, and began to drive home. As she was driving along the highway, a good seven miles or more from the lake and those terrible woods… Allison noticed someone hitchhiking on the side of the road. It was a woman who was the spitting image of Rebecca, but dressed very modern, wearing baggy white sweatpants and a red hooded jacket. Allison stopped, and let her in into the car. The woman got into the passenger seat and said: “Hi there! Going to town?” to which Allison replied: “Sure am. You need a ride to town?” and the woman nodded in the affirmative. As they drove along, Allison asked her: “So, what’s your name?” and the woman answered, saying: “The name’s Rebecca! What’s yours?” Oh, the irony! “Allison. My name is Allison.” Said the driver of the car. Rebecca smiled wide, musing out loud: “You ever get the feeling that you’ve met somebody someplace before, but just can’t put your finger on it? I’m getting that feeling right now, with you.” To which Allison also smiled, then sighed contentedly. “Honey, after the night I just had, a strange feeling doesn’t seem all that strange to me. I’ve seen stranger things, believe me!” Then, after fifteen minutes of driving in silence, Rebecca started laughing. “What is it?” asked Allison, to which her passenger replied: “Nothing, sweetie, it just seems so good to be free!” and Rebecca put her hand on Allison’s thigh, which felt good, that bit of tenderness after so much suffering and pain. Then Allison glanced over a moment and noticed the bulge between Rebecca’s legs. “You’re transgender, right?” she asked the passenger, who then giggled and answered honestly: “Yeah, I am! I’ve been different my whole life. My family hates me, you know?” At which Allison knew it was her turn to giggle. “Oh, Rebecca, believe me! I know. So, you seeing anyone right now?” Which thus began the most loving, passionate relationship Allison had ever known in her life. But every once in a while, when the two women would go out for a date or on a walk, a raven would watch them from afar. Just watching… before flying off again.
The Frightening Sequel to Cottage of the Damned
Part One: Return
“My name is Allison, and I am bound to a demon I hate but whom I am forced to serve. He’s a bastard… he’s driven me to murder and worse! But I made a pact in order to save my life, and now there is no going back.” Such were her thoughts as Allison drove back to the cottage on Halloween, one year after the events that trapped her there. What would happen if she refused to go back? She did not want to contemplate that. The demon was powerful, and might come looking for her. It might get free of those woods, and it might kill innocent people to feed its’ insatiable hunger. No, better for everyone if she just keeps bringing it evil people to consume. And that is what she did that year, luring people who truly deserved to perish, people no one would miss… to that cottage by the lake, in the heart of the old woods. All year, the demon feasted and in fact grew stronger. She hated him, though he was her man now. He possessed her dead lover’s corpse even now, and he waited for her to come home. She had brought him his meal for the day, waited on him, cared for his needs. Now she was coming home after a trip to town for supplies… and she was angry, tried, and utterly fed up with being only a servant. She wanted more, much more from her life than that! But how could she fight something capable of possessing the living and the dead, something that can get inside your head and drive you insane? She had to think. So the car sped down the old roads, past the rusty signs, and beyond the trees that always seems to be reaching out, encircling the sides of the road. It was late in the day, around 5:00 in the afternoon by her car’s clock’s reckoning… and the sky was that fiery pinkish hue that you see just before darkness hits after twilight. The car windows were open, and Allison could hear the bats in the trees, she could hear crows in the fields, and she could smell the scent of the woods as she drove down the old dirt road, leaving the main highway behind, and finally stopped at the edge of the cold, mysterious lake and its’ rugged shoreline. A local legend said a woman drowned in the lake once, during the 1700s. A colonial woman, accused by her community of being a witch! The witch fled, pursued by the angry mob, and tried to swim across the lake to escape them. She drowned, so went the legend. Allison got out of the vehicle and walked over to the lake, looking at her reflection in the water. She was quite cute looking, with her curly blonde hair… just a bit lighter than it had been a year ago and just a bit curlier too. It went well with her green eyes, though her features were a tad on the sharp side. Even so, men found her cute. Even the victims she brought to here!
Realizing she was lost in thought, Allison broke away from the shore of the lake and regarded the old cottage nearby. It was a hateful place to her, a place in which she and others had suffered unspeakably. But her will was not entirely free, not yet! She reached into the pocket of the baggy harem-style pants she wore and withdrew a small talisman shaped like an eye in a pyramid. She had purchased the talisman from an occult shop in town, and she was told it gave the one who held it power over demonic forces. On the backside of the talisman were spells etched into the silver of the medallion itself. She had it fastened to a chain, and she intended to wear it as a necklace. She secured it around her neck and tucked in under her puffy sleeved sweatshirt. The demon would never notice she was wearing it, and if all went according to plan Allison would stand a chance this time against the fiend. A raven then suddenly came out from the treetops and landed on a stump of an old oak near where the car was parked. “Beware!” called the Raven. “Beware! Beware!” Allison picked up a rock and threw it at the raven. “Get out of here, you stupid bird!” she yelled, and the bird flew off into the forest. It was now night, and the stars were out. So many stars! So deceptively beautiful, you would never know the horror that could befall in this place. Allison didn’t want to know, but beggars can’t be choosers and she wasn’t the one who made all the choices. Who would be the beggar after tonight? She mused, while she opened the trunk of the car and picked up the bags filled with groceries and other necessities. She walked up to the door of the cottage, unlocked it with her free hand, and went inside. She made her way through the main room with its’ roaring fireplace, and passed through the door to the kitchen. Everything was silent as a graveyard, and not in a good way! The woman sat the bags down and proceeded to put everything away. Pitiful moans and shrieks came from the bedroom across the hall, where the demon’s latest meal was still dying. The man was a local drunk who beat his children and forced himself on his wife until she cried. A disgusting man, a fat monster who left his beer bottles by the side of the road for the town to clean up because he was too lazy to do so himself. Now, his belly was ripped open and his bloated intestines were spewed all over the bedroom rug. “God damn it! How am I going to get the stains out this time?” Allison speculated, as a housewife might speculate on the annoyance of getting pasta sauce out of the carpeting. Her mind was so used to the horrors now, or so she told herself, that these routines had become second nature to her over the past year. Her hand went instinctively to the talisman around her neck. “Soon, I’ll have the power I need. Very soon!”
The demon… Charles, Allison still called him… was feasting on the remains of the drunk, his unnaturally enlarged mouth and its’ serrated, fang-like teeth biting and tearing through flesh, sinew, and even bone. His teeth pulled, tore, and yanked pieces of the dying man apart like a ravenous beast might dine upon a kill in the wild. Allison watched her former lover as he did this horrid act, and she shook her head. “I don’t even love him anymore.” She admitted to herself. “I just want him to stop.” She thought. None of these notions did she dare speak aloud! “Are you almost done yet?” She asked, and the thing that had once been Charles replied: “Soon, bitch! Soon! Wait your turn, our fun will come later.” And she wanted to throw up, thinking about how she and the demon passed their nights. “Fun” he called it. Is that what he called it? Allison’s hand went to her breast, which was still sore after the previous night’s “Fun”. She would not allow it any longer, not tonight. Not any more nights! “I’m looking forward to it, lover.” She cooed, and the demon ignored her and continued its’ gory feasting. Allison knew no weapon could hard that creature… God knows, she had tried enough of that in the past, and each time it did not end well at all. So she made her way down into the cellar, and to the altar there. The shrine to the dark gods of the forest! It was more elaborate now than it had been a year ago. A stone slab served for the altar, inscribed with runes in old Nordic script, the inscriptions painted with human blood. A pentagram sat in the center of the altar, surrounded by several grotesque statues. In the middle of the inverted star, sat a silver chalice in which was sat a green emerald. Once, that gem had graced a darkly magical dagger, but the dagger was no more and now only the emerald remained. “I wonder what it is that ever possessed me to throw the old blade into the lake?” Allison mused, smiling. She had her reasons. She reached out and picked up the emerald, which was covered in her own blood, the same that filled the chalice. Blood she had shed from her palms during several dark rituals. The emerald was totally stained with it on its’ reverse side. She put the emerald into her pants’ pocket… it held tremendous evil power, but sometimes it takes evil to fight evil. She offered a prayer to the old, dark gods and knelt before the altar. “I want to be free!” she willed, with all her heart. “Help me, to obtain what I desire.” And suddenly a voice behind her cried: “Beware!” and when she spun around to look, it was the raven from earlier. “How did you get into the house?” She asked of it, fully aware that she was talking to an animal. The bird replied: “I go where I am called.” And then Allison realized that this raven was no simple animal. “What it is that you wish of me?” the bird asked.
Charles was not used to being kept waiting. “Charles!” the demon spat. “I hate that name!” for he had a far more ancient name, one mortals used to fear. Now, only his meals feared him… his victims. Were it not for his nightly diversions with the human female, he would sure have gone mad from the boredom. He wanted to be free, free to spread his malice and dark influence over all: of the world, to go where he would and do whatever he pleased. When he saw Allison, he licked his lips in anticipation of her nightly debasement. He would not be gentle with her tonight. He wanted to hear her scream! Allison had other plans, however. “Tell me, lover…” she began, “How badly do you want to be free of this place?” and the demon angrily shrieked in a guttural voice that sounded like someone being strangled: “Do not mock me, slut. Service me.” But the woman was done with being a servant, done with sucking a dead man’s cock every night, done with letting him put that… obscene member… between her legs, and even in her rear. She knew what awaited her if she failed, and she was intent on not failing. She sauntered over to the bed upon which the monster reclined. The remains of the dead drunk were piled in a corner, flies already buzzing around it and the stink bad enough to make her eyes sting. Hardly conducive to romance! As if romance had anything to do with any of this. The woman deliberately swung her hips suggestively as she walked over and climbed unto the bed. “I want you.” She said to the demon. “Excuse me?” Charles replied. “You usually cry, scream, beg… anything but this! Do you actually enjoy… pain?” And the demon’s tongue extended from its’ face like a snake, getting far longer than any tongue should be, slithering towards Allison. How many times, that tongue had violated her! “Yes, I want you… to DIE!” she screamed, and tore the talisman from her neck, pressing it into the demon’s tongue as hard as if she were banging flint rocks together to try and make fire. In her other hand, she grasped the bloody emerald tightly and it was flowing with green light that filtered out between her clenched fingers. The demon made a horrible shrieking sound, and pale smoke rose from where the accursed metal embedded itself into the tongue’s foul flesh. That flesh was burning, and a kind of fire crept up from the spot and began to cover the creature. The green fire entered the fiend’s mouth first, and filled it like water fills a drowning person’s lungs. Then, the thing that had once been called Charles burned alive from the inside out. The demon was banished to whatever hell it first emerged from, and the cottage was exorcised of its’ evil forever. The ashes and charred bits of bone on the bed would be easy enough for Allison to sweep up. She was used to such messes.
Part Two: Burning
The wood burned and crackled on the hearth, as Allison reclined on the couch by the window. The clock was still stuck at 2:00, and was beyond repair. She had tried all year to fix it, bought parts for it… and even took it to a professional once. But always, it remained broken and still chimed every night at that same hour. “The fucking clock is cursed!” she laughed, and took a hammer to it, smashing it to bits. “Not anymore!” she giggled, and then sighed audibly, lying back down on the couch once again. “Now what?” she thought. For she had no immediate plans for her life, now that she was free for the first time since she and her now fully deceased boyfriend decided to go vacationing to this unholy place. She could just leave and go home, see how her family was doing. But they always hated her for being different… for having a different style, different beliefs, and even a different way of looking at life than most people she knew. “Fuck!” she swore, realizing she had not ever really given this that much thought. Then, as if on cue, the raven was there upon the mantle above the hearth, and it said to the woman: “Sucks, doesn’t it?” to which Allison replied: “Yeah, it really does!” then she realized what she was doing and sat up, startled. “What the hell are you still doing here? I thought we had a deal!” and the raven croaked, saying: “We did, we do… I helped you get rid of my greatest rival, so we are both free now. In a way, he’s free too! So everyone wins. But I cannot help but notice how miserable you seem to be. Perhaps I can help?” But Allison was not stupid, and learned one thing from dealing with demons: it never ends well. “Look, I don’t need any more help, okay? So just go fly off and play king of the forest or whatever the fuck it is you do… and freaking leave me alone. I’ve had enough supernatural bullshit for one year, thank you very much.” Then, the raven flew down and pecked Allison on the left hand. “Ouch! Why the hell did you do that?” she screamed, and the bird replied: “To remind you, that you are mortal. You can feel pain, you can feel pleasure too… and sometimes, mortals need that reminder! Farewell, Allison.” And with that, the raven flew out an open window and was gone into the night. When Allison finally fell asleep, she dreamed that she was trapped in Charles’ dead body, unable to escape, unable to be herself: because she was losing herself in him. Finally, she ripped off his face with her bare hands and underneath it was her own face. “Free! Free at last!” that face cried, and she was crying the same thing. She was crying out those exact words, when she felt someone’s hands shaking her awake. It was a tall woman, a stranger, and whoever she was… she was dressed in clothing straight out of the 1700s. Things had just begun to get strange once again!
“Allison, wake up! I need your help.” The woman said. The woman had long black hair cascading down in delicate ringlets about her shoulders and down her back. She was beautiful, pale, and her hair was strangely wet. In fact, the woman was absolutely drenched, and standing in a puddle as she spoke. Allison was horrified to see that the woman’s beautiful skin… had in places the telltale green of putrefaction. “Oh my God, no! You’re not that girl from the lake, are you? The one who drowned?” and the dead woman nodded in agreement. “Yes, Allison, I have come from the lake.” And Allison shook her head, unable to believer her bad luck. “Great, just great! So let me guess… you want me to help you find rest, go into the light, find peace, something like that, yes?” But the dead woman shook her head. “No, actually, I am here to help you.” And the pale lips of the woman smiled serenely as she said that. “I told your master the raven that I wasn’t interested, so go back and tell him I’m still not interested! I don’t want to owe any favors to demons.” But the dead woman clarified: “No, I am not from him, I do not even know who he is, this raven demon you speak of. My name is Rebecca, and I know what it is you truly want. I can help you, if you let me.” Then Allison stood up, looked Rebecca squarely in her dark, jet black eyes, and studied her for a few minutes. “What will it cost me?” she asked, and Rebecca answered: “Nothing you cannot afford to do. I only want you to help me destroy that shrine in the cellar… its’ power has bound me to this place ever since the former owners of this cottage tried to summon me and make me their servant. When you killed them, you enabled me to roam freely, no longer bound within the lake where they kept me in a kind of limbo as punishment for my refusal to serve them. When you dispatched the demon who: was lord of these woods and restored the raven as the rightful ruler… you made it possible for the shrine of the Old Ones to be destroyed. All it takes is the will to see it done, and once I am free I will be able to grant you a single request with no hidden price needing to be paid.” Allison thought it over for a moment, then asked: “So what’s the catch? What aren’t you telling me!” then the dead woman smiled almost sinisterly, put her hands on her hips, and muttered: “Only that the raven will try to stop you. You will have to face a god now. A demon god from the ancient times before man… a god with the power of the forest at his command.” Then Allison said in a rather bored tone: “Oh, is that all? Let’s do this then!” because she still had the talisman and the emerald, and needed fear no evil. Because her own evil could overcome it, if she kept her will strong enough. And that was something she was becoming very used to.
As the two women made their way towards the cellar, the sound of glass crashing and breaking could be heard, along with the sound of large, heavy wings flapping. The raven had returned, and was very angry. “Don’t look at it, just keep walking.” Cautioned Rebecca, as she held Allison’s hand and drew her along. “Beware! Beware!” croaked the raven, though: neither woman paid it any heed …and without looking back, Allison opened the way into the cellar and brandished her flashlight before her. The same one she always used when going down there, the small hand flashlight she kept in her pocket at all times. The cellar was always dark! It was the oldest part of the property and predated the cottage itself by generations, if not by hundreds of years. Some legends said it was first dug: as a temple to the Nordic gods by Vikings when they came to America in ancient times. Others say a group of survivors from the failed Roanoke colony built it as a shelter, before they fell prey to the evils of the woods and disappeared entirely. But however it came to be, it was here and Allison now went down into it, to challenge its’ power and put an end to it for all of time. “Remind me again why I am doing this?” She said, half-jokingly, to Rebecca, who smiled knowingly and said nothing. “Yeah, I thought so.” Muttered Allison and the two hastened down, and over to the place where the shrine squatted. The sound of flapping wings could still be heard, but the two women still ignored it and concentrated at the task before them. “So how do I destroy the shrine?” asked Allison, to which her companion replied: “You must smash the emerald in the middle of the pentagram. That will release the stone’s power and allow it to consume the shrine in its’ flames. Only that can purify this place and break the raven’s power!” But before she could act, Allison heard the wings beating right behind them. “He’s here, Rebecca! There’s no time!” and the dead woman screamed: “Do it now, Allison! Smash the emerald with your talisman. Quickly, before he can…” but before she could finish her sentence, something grabbed Rebecca by the hair and pulled her backwards, into the darkness. Awful sounds emerged, and Allison did not want to know what those sounds signified. She sat the emerald down in the middle of the pentagram, and made ready to bring the talisman down upon it… when something grabbed her by the hair and pulled her backward as well. She was being dragged across the cellar floor, back into the dark without her flashlight, which she had dropped in the struggle while trying to set it down on the altar prior to smashing the emerald. “Let me go, you ugly… bird! Let me go!” she screamed, kicking and punching at the monster that was dragging her. It was no longer a simple bird, but something large and with a hulking form. A demon of grotesque shape! It was chuckling lustily as it pawed her hungrily.
Hands were upon her, tearing at her clothes. She felt them pulling off her sweatshirt, tearing down her pants and twisting aside her undergarments… a finger was inserted into her, and she screamed. Something clamped a hand over her mouth, as it wedged itself between her legs. “I offered you my help, Allison! You refused me.” Chuckled the beast before her, its’ leathery black wings stretching out behind it. The monster had six clawed arms, two of which held her arms, two of which grasped her legs, and two of which were attempting to violate her. She kept screaming, kicking, trying to get free… but it was useless. “I will enjoy impregnating you, Allison. Making you bear my offspring. Making you become one of us.” The fiend laughed, and Allison looked on in horror as the thing’s member drew closer to her womanhood with each breath. If it got inside of her, she would be lost! Then… suddenly… Rebecca appeared and pulled the demon off of the struggling woman with a ferocious strength. “Get off of her, you vile devil!” shrieked the dead woman, and Allison scrambled to her feet, dressed herself once more, and then ran as fast as she could to get away from the section of the cellar in which she had been dragged. She spat at the raven devil before leaving it to its’ conflict with Rebecca. “Fucker!” she hissed, satisfied in that minor bit of revenge. If she could manage to destroy the emerald, it would also stop that monster for good… and that would be a far better revenge even yet. The talisman was still around her neck, since she had not yet gotten the chance to remove it when she made ready to smash the emerald before… and it was glowing with an inner fire that made her chest feel tingling with an odd burning sensation. It was trying to break free of her control, attempting to manifest whatever power was really within it. Its’ glow was red, blood red, and it was an evil glow. The eye in the pyramid on the talisman glared balefully. Soon, Allison stumbled, half-feeling her way to the shrine. She was crawling for what seemed an eternity before finally reaching it. She found her flashlight, turned it on, and sat it on the altar so she could finally see what she was doing. The emerald was exactly where it had been placed, in the center of the inverted pentagram. Now was the time to act! She took off her talisman, raised it high into the air in her right hand, clenching it tightly. Then, she brought it down upon the green gemstone with a terrible cracking sound. The red fire met the green fire, and there was a blinding flash and something of an explosion that hurled Allison backward away from the altar. The raven devil was shrieking and screaming as the stone altar blasted apart, the statues upon its’ surface crumbling to dust along with it… as fire consumed everything in sight in an inferno of heat and power! Allison ran up from the cellar, just in time to escape the blast. Everything began to shake fiercely.
Part Three: Freedom
The cellar was collapsing, crumbling in upon itself: as the floorboards of the cottage were breaking, snapping much as twigs snap… as the old house began to break apart. Allison wasted no time in escaping out the cottage’s front door, just as the entire structure was crushed by the forces she had unleashed by the destruction of the evil emerald along with the magical talisman that had saved her from a fate truly worse than death. As the rubble and broken wood settled, an unnatural quiet fell over everything. “Fuck!” Allison shouted, rubbing her hands through her hair, her eyes wide as she regarded the wreck before her. There was nothing left of the cottage or its’ foundation any longer, and what was left was sinking into the earth. Mounds of soil rushed up to engulf the whole of the structure, and within minutes the whole thing was buried deep under the ground, gone forever. The water of the lake was lapping upon its’ rocky shores, the sand and pebbles trailing off, swept by the waves that the explosion had stirred up. “Take that, you ugly bird.” She chuckled, giggling like a child after having said that. Perhaps she was going more than a little crazy by this point, but who wouldn’t? “Hey Rebecca!” she yelled out. “You fucking lied to me, you bitch! Where’s my wish? You’d suck as a genie!” She didn’t really expect anyone to answer her. Maybe Rebecca had just been a creation of her mind. She didn’t know, and didn’t want to know. Then it hit her… the car keys were gone! They must have fallen out of her pocket when the raven devil had tried to rape her. “Shit! Now how am I going to get home?” she mused. Because after all this, she decided she was going home, even if her family was totally nuts. She never had learned how to hotwire a car! So she started to walk, going down the old dirt road that led away from the lake, back to the highway. The woods had no power to stop her, as once they had a year ago. Tonight, all was normal as you could please, for it being Halloween. “Some fucking Halloween this turned out to be!” she chuckled. The animals that watched her as she went, looked at her fearfully, their low cunning no longer filled with malice. Had they learned to in fact respect her? Soon, the weary woman was strolling down the highway past woods and farms, putting the cottage and its’ damned, doomed, and dead souls far behind her. She would never be the same woman she had been before a year ago! She take taken human lives, fought ancient demons and gods, and dealt with spirits of the dead. How do you come back from all that and still live a normal life? “So this is freedom!” she thought. “Hmmm. I think I like it!” but she was not alone. Every several feet, she could hear footsteps behind her, but then when she turned to look nothing was there whatsoever.
Out of the corner of her eye, Allison could see something. What it was… was impossible to tell, but it was something all right! She imagined it was some animal that had decided to follow her out of the woods, but animals make different sounds from what did indeed sound exactly like a person’s footsteps. “Honey, wait up!” called a voice, and it was Charles. He was alive and well, and apparently unharmed, and no longer possessed. She spun around, punched him square in the face and then screamed: “Fuck you!” at the top of her lungs. “I never want to see you again, you disgusting freak!” But Charles had no memory of what had transpired for the past year, and no understanding of why he had just been so abused. “Look, if it is because I lost the keys it’s no big deal. If we can reach town, we can always get it towed home and then we can take a cab or a bus or something. Look, I’m sorry, alright… its’ not my fault!” Allison then explained to Charles all that had transpired from the moment they reached the cottage to the moment it was destroyed. Then Charles said something totally unexpected: “Honey, there was never any cottage by that lake! We were going there to go camping for the weekend, remember?” But Allison was not buying that bullshit. “For the weekend, Charles? Then where the hell did we just spend a year of our lives we will never get back! A year in which: you, while possessed by some fucking demon… did all kinds of sick shit to me. Huh? Tell me that, asshole, if you’re so smart! Fucking don’t even try to tell me I’m crazy because I know I’m not.” And Charles then looked utterly perplexed. “A year? But its’ only been a day since we got here! The tent is still set up… if you want to go back and have some fun.” Then Allison smacked Charles hard across his face. “Fun? Do not EVER use that word around me again, you bastard! I’m going home, alone. You can go play with yourself for all I care. Drop dead, do the world a favor, you pervert!” Then Charles’ eyes started to glow red, and he smiled sinisterly. “I should have known you to not be so foolish as I had expected. Good! You fought me fair and square, little girl, and you won. I grant you your total freedom from me… I will return whence I came, and never trouble these woods again. However, you must keep your word and help Rebecca to find peace… for what good is your freedom, if she languishes in servitude to me for all eternity?” But Allison was no fool. She replied: “Look, jerk-off, I know the rules! Smash the emerald and the ghost lady goes free. So set her free and don’t be such a sore loser. As for me, I’m done with you, with her, with this place, and I’m going home. See you never!” and then she spun around and began to storm off down the highway. Only: to find Charles in front of her again.
“Okay, I’ll do it! Where is Rebecca? If it will get you off my back for good, I’ll help her.” And the demon led Allison back to the mound where the cottage used to be, and pointed to an arm sticking up out of the ground. “She is there!” the fiend pointed and stated. “Oh my God! Rebecca, honey, I’ll dig you out don’t worry.” Allison said, and then began to dig into the dirt with her bare hands as the demon watched, bored and anxious to return to his infernal home, where souls awaited their torments and other demons awaited the return of their brother. As she dug, he eyes saw things from Rebecca’s perspective. She was reliving the final moments of the dead witch’s life. “Burn her! Burn the witch!” cried the mob that chased her down as they ran across the woodlands in pursuit of her. The men amongst them had already had their way with Rebecca, and now there was murder in their eyes rather than lust. The women cared not either way, and the lot of them: were of a hive-like mind that sought the debasement and destruction of anyone who is different. They bore crude weapons designed to kill slowly and inflict pain, for they were without mercy. Puritans? What was so pure about this mob! Their God was nowhere to be found amongst them. Rebecca’s dress was torn, her thighs covered in blood from her stolen virtue… and her eyes streaked with tears. So what if she had worshiped the old Viking gods as her German ancestors once did? But where was Odin… or Wotan, as she preferred to call him! Why did he not come to save her? But something did, on that day. For on the waters of the lake she spied in the distance, Rebecca beheld a raven flying. One of her god’s messengers, surely! And so she made for the lake, and as she did so the raven led her out farther and farther. “If I follow the messenger bird, I will surely reach freedom!” she thought, but she never reached freedom, only death. Her body was tired from so much abuse, and from so much running… he arms and legs so heavy… so that she could swim only so far, and no farther. She felt the water come up over her head, felt it filling her lungs until they were crushed from it… and beheld only darkness as life and light faded from her eyes. Yet she lived on, in another form, on another plane of existence. And now, all she saw was dark and dirt, and the smell of earth was in her nostrils, the black soil was in her mouth, filling her lungs, crushing her anew. She was drowning in earth as she had drowned in water, and she would have screamed if she had been able to move her lips. All her strength was gone; she was utterly crushed! Allison was crying for Rebecca, tears streaming down her face. “Come on, just wait a little longer! You’ve waited this long… I’ll have you free in a moment.” And soon, Rebecca was finally free.
“She is dead now. Fully dead! She died knowing you cared for her, felt for her. That brought her peace, enabled her to go to her god.” Explained the demon to Allison. Rebecca’s body lay cold upon the soil from which it had been dug. “Now, we must bury her and give her the last rites.” And they buried her again, on the spot where the cottage used to be. Then, they said the last rites… thus allowing her spirit to depart for Valhalla. When Allison turned to look at the demon, the creature was gone, faded into the shadows whence it had come. The car was still sitting there by the lake, and next to it what should be there but the keys! Exactly: what Allison had been wishing for. “Thank you Rebecca! You rock, girl.” She yelled out, up at the heavens. Somewhere, she was certain Rebecca was smiling. Finally, Allison got in the car, started it up, and began to drive home. As she was driving along the highway, a good seven miles or more from the lake and those terrible woods… Allison noticed someone hitchhiking on the side of the road. It was a woman who was the spitting image of Rebecca, but dressed very modern, wearing baggy white sweatpants and a red hooded jacket. Allison stopped, and let her in into the car. The woman got into the passenger seat and said: “Hi there! Going to town?” to which Allison replied: “Sure am. You need a ride to town?” and the woman nodded in the affirmative. As they drove along, Allison asked her: “So, what’s your name?” and the woman answered, saying: “The name’s Rebecca! What’s yours?” Oh, the irony! “Allison. My name is Allison.” Said the driver of the car. Rebecca smiled wide, musing out loud: “You ever get the feeling that you’ve met somebody someplace before, but just can’t put your finger on it? I’m getting that feeling right now, with you.” To which Allison also smiled, then sighed contentedly. “Honey, after the night I just had, a strange feeling doesn’t seem all that strange to me. I’ve seen stranger things, believe me!” Then, after fifteen minutes of driving in silence, Rebecca started laughing. “What is it?” asked Allison, to which her passenger replied: “Nothing, sweetie, it just seems so good to be free!” and Rebecca put her hand on Allison’s thigh, which felt good, that bit of tenderness after so much suffering and pain. Then Allison glanced over a moment and noticed the bulge between Rebecca’s legs. “You’re transgender, right?” she asked the passenger, who then giggled and answered honestly: “Yeah, I am! I’ve been different my whole life. My family hates me, you know?” At which Allison knew it was her turn to giggle. “Oh, Rebecca, believe me! I know. So, you seeing anyone right now?” Which thus began the most loving, passionate relationship Allison had ever known in her life. But every once in a while, when the two women would go out for a date or on a walk, a raven would watch them from afar. Just watching… before flying off again.
Published 1st Jan 2013
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Anonymous
1st Jan 2013 11:46am
GREAT horor tale by your dark ink!
A post modern Poe or Lovecraft scenario.
You are such a gifted writer!
A post modern Poe or Lovecraft scenario.
You are such a gifted writer!
2nd Jan 2013 7:54am
I am honored by such heartfelt praise! And to be compared to two of my favorite authors is a great honor indeed. If you enjoyed this one, be sure to check out the first poem in this two-part series, which is called simply "Cottage of the Damned" and is also here on DUP for your reading pleasure. This tale begins, where that one ends... so together, they make for one larger story. Again, thank you so much for your praise! Your comments are always a joy for me to read. :)
Anonymous
2nd Jan 2013 6:41pm
My pleasure, dear Jessica!
Thank you for telling me about the first story, will surely read this soon!
Thank you for telling me about the first story, will surely read this soon!
