The Blood Witch (The Blood Reign Chronicles Book 1) (6 page)

Jak came to a sandy spot near the edge of the river and stopped dead, being ripped from his revelry at what he saw. Brigette’s fresh tracks in the sand near the waters edge were plain to see. The farms were close now, less than a mile away but yet he had not caught up to her.
How had she made it this far on her injured leg?
Looking closer at the tracks he noticed the symmetry and even spacing of the imprints. They had not been made by someone limping or struggling to walk. Jak swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to stay calm, but the same uneasy feeling that he remembered from the night before came creeping back on him.

Jak raced on ahead as fast as his legs would carry him so he could get back home and find out what was going on. However, after traveling only a little ways further, something lying on the ground up ahead caught his eye and he slowed his pace.

As he approached, he could see that it was one of the sheep from the farm lying directly in the pathway.
What was it doing out here by itself? It should be off with the rest of the flock.
It was then Jak noticed the sheep was lying too still, not moving at all.

When he got close enough, it was apparent that the animal was dead, its throat ripped out and the entrails were strewn about on the ground as if it had been torn apart in a hurry. What was even stranger to Jak was that the animal’s heart was missing, and there was only a small amount of blood around the corpse. Wolves would not have done this; they would have eaten the meat. The kill site would have been a lot messier as well, with blood and torn wool everywhere from the struggle. He had seen where wolves had killed before. The predators usually left little of the carcass and there would be blood everywhere around it. Jak needed to tell his father about this, maybe he would know what had done it.

As Jak knelt examining the slaughtered animal he started to feel a little light headed and dizzy. A peculiar feeling began to rise from deep inside him, and there was a strange sweet smell filling his nostrils and penetrating his senses. The sensation, the aroma, was almost intoxicating. Jak tasted something lusciously sweet on his tongue, and savored the taste in his mouth. Nothing he had ever tasted before was as savory or completely satisfying as this was.
What was it that he tasted?
A ravenous hunger began to surge inside him and he craved more, yearned for more of this delicious delicacy.

Jak then realized he was licking his own fingers, and shock mixed with horror tore him from his trance like state. He stared horrified and repulsed at his hand and fingers which were smeared with blood from the sheep. Suddenly he felt very nauseous and turned aside to empty his stomach several times until nothing more would come up.

The dry heaves continued for a time, but nothing was left in Jak’s stomach. He felt sick even though his stomach was empty, but even so he felt like more should come out. There was no way for him to shake the dreadful feeling that had all but consumed him.
What was wrong with him?
He needed to get away from here, and away from the blood.

Ignoring his wooziness, Jak stood up and began to run again towards the farms and safety. Breaking through the line of trees that bordered the fields surrounding Elsdon, he could finally see Brigette’s parent’s house up ahead. Suppressing the anxious feeling that had overcome him, he forced himself to slow his pace to a fast walk. After all, he didn’t want to alarm anyone unnecessarily with his frantic running.

When he approached the cottage, everything was still and quiet. The usual hustle and bustle that accompanied farm life was missing. There was no one outside in the fields or chopping wood, and no sounds came from inside the house either. There wasn’t even any smoke coming from the chimneys. That in itself was odd, since there was usually a fire going most of the time. The nights were chilly in the mountains even in the summer, and cook fires were burning in the kitchen as often as not, but not even a wisp of smoke rose from the chimneys.

Slowly Jak approached the front porch of the house where he noticed that the front door was open wide. This sort of thing wasn’t uncommon in Elsdon. Often times during the day, the residents there would open their doors to let the fresh breeze in and air out their house. Jak didn’t think too much of it until he neared the porch and saw there was something lying in the doorway blocking it from closing. It was Erlend Ashlin, Brigette’s father. “Master Ashlin,” Jak called hesitantly, “are you alright?”

There was no answer from the still figure, so Jak cautiously approached and bent down to shake the man’s shoulder, but his hand recoiled in alarm. The body of Brigette’s father was icy cold, still dressed in his night clothes, with his eyes staring blankly at nothing.
What could have possibly done this?
There was a tiny spot of blood on the collar of Master Ashlin’s nightshirt, but no other injuries were visible at first glance. Jak stood up slowly, and cautiously made his way further into the house.

“Is anyone here?” Jak called.
That was a stupid thing to say
, he thought to himself. If anyone was here, surely they would not have left Master Ashlin lying on the floor in the doorway like that. Tension gripped Jak’s shoulders and his stomach twisted, threatening to tie itself in a knot.

Cautiously Jak opened the door to the older brother’s bedroom and peered inside, this bedroom was shared by Brigette’s two oldest brothers. They were both lying in their beds motionless as if they were still sleeping. Jak shook them vigorously trying to wake them but without success.

The same ghastly scene greeted Jak in the younger brother’s room as well. Alarm and uncertainty welled up in him and he hurried into the parent’s room to find Brigette’s mother lying in her bed. Her eyes were open and vacantly staring at the ceiling. Everyone here in the house was dead.
How can this be? What or who could have done this?
Jak wondered in perplexity. This all had to be some kind of dream or nightmare that he couldn’t wake up from.
How could everyone be dead? And where was Brigette?
She had obviously made it back to Elsdon before Jak.

As Jak stood to leave, he happened to glanced at the mirror Brigette’s mother had hanging on the bedroom wall. It was the only real mirror anywhere in Elsdon. Master Ashlin had bought it for his wife on one of his trips to the Kragston, and it had cost him dearly. When his wife had chided him for wasting the money on an unnecessary expense, Master Ashlin had told his wife that he got it for her so she could see clearly how beautiful she was in his eyes.

Some of the other women in the village had small polished pieces of metal that they called mirrors, but they didn’t give nearly as clear of a reflection as this one did. Jak and Brigette would sneak into the bedroom sometimes when her parents weren’t there, to look into that mirror. It was so magical and mysterious, like he was looking into another world. This time as Jak looked into the mirror something wasn’t quite right. He could see everything in the room behind him, including Brigette’s mother lying lifeless on the bed all too clearly. But his own reflection in the mirror was cloudy, fuzzy, and almost transparent. No matter how hard he tried to focus, his reflection remained insubstantial. It was so strange it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. His eyes were the only feature that he could see clearly from his reflection in the mirror. Jak had been born with blue eyes, like all of his family and almost everyone in Elsdon. But the strange eyes that stared back from his reflection were a violet purple color.

When Jak was a kid it was always a treat when he would get to pick the red berries and black berries that grew wild around the farm. Many times when the berries were especially ripe and sweet, they would crush in his hands when he tried to pick them. The mixture of the two berries’ juice on his hands would stain them a dark violet purple color. The haunting eyes that Jak saw in the mirror reminded him of that color. It seemed like a stranger in the mirror staring back at him. With an effort, he tore his gaze from his image in the mirror. This was all too much; he needed to get out of here and back home to his family. He hoped that his parents might be able to explain what had happened here.

Darting out of the door, Jak ran towards his own home which was located several hundred paces southwest of where Brigette’s home sat. As he approached the house, the same eerie sense of stillness lay over it as had been at Brigette’s house. The sense of dread made him hesitate briefly before running up the stairs and flinging open the door. “Mom! …. Dad!” he called frantically. But only silence answered him.

At first glance, everything in his home looked to be in order. At least there were no bodies lying on the floor. The door to his older brother’s room stood partly ajar. Peering inside, he could see all three of his brothers were in their beds. Jak held his breath in apprehension as he stepped slowly towards his oldest brother. “Edgar,” Jak said as he shook his brother. But there was no answer. None of his brothers would ever answer him again.

Tears began to well up in his eyes, and a feeling of trepidation set in, as he hurried down the hall to his sisters’ room, but it was empty. The covers were thrown back on the two beds but there was no sign of either of his sisters.

Panic and horror quickly began to overtake him as he pushed open the door to his parent’s room. Before him was a scene of chaos. Dalla, his oldest sister was lying on her stomach in the middle of the floor, staring lifelessly at the ceiling. Seeing her in this way was extremely unnerving. Dalla looked almost like a broken doll, so unnatural in its surroundings. It reminded Jak of one of Gineara’s dolls with the head twisted around backwards. When Jak was younger, he used to think it was funny when he would do that to his little sister’s dolls, even though Gin would get furious with him. She would get so angry and yell at him because she thought he was going to break her doll by twisting the head around to face the wrong way. There was nothing funny about it this time.

Jak’s father lay in the bed appearing almost peaceful. If Jak didn’t know better, he would think his father was having a pleasant dream while he slept. Jak’s mother was stretched backwards over the arms of the sitting chair, head back, eyes open, and blood dripping down the front of her nightdress.

Jak walked slowly towards her, picked her up in his arms, and placed her gently on the floor. He brushed back the hair from his mother’s face lovingly and laid his head on her chest. So many times when he was young, he would sit on his mother’s lap and put his ear to her chest to hear her heart beating. It was a calming, comforting feeling that made him believe that everything was right in the world. This time there was nothing. No sound… only silence, no feeling of warmth or comfort. There never would be again. Jak lay there weeping.

Jak didn’t know how long he had lain there with his head on his mother’s breast sobbing, when movement at the corner of his eye brought him upright.

“Gin! You are alive!” he exclaimed. It was his baby sister Gineara. She was standing in the doorway clenching her favorite doll in one arm tightly. Her hands were shaking, lips quivering, and tears were steaming down her little face. Her shoulder length light blonde hair was disheveled, and her blue eyes were red rimmed and glistening with still more unshed tears to come.

Jak stood and took a step towards her but she recoiled in fear, slipping partially behind the door frame and grasping it tightly with her free hand.

“It’s me, Jak. Are you alright? Are you hurt?” he asked as calmly as he could manage, but the little girl just stood there with a look of fear in her eyes.

“It’s alright Gin,” he pleaded, “you know I would never hurt you”. “What happened here?” Jak said, as he dropped to one knee as to not seem so imposing to the small girl. He could tell she was more than a little scared, and for that matter he was scared too. Gin stood there a moment longer then ran forward and flung her arms around Jak’s neck and began to sob violently.

“Shhh, it’s alright now. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said soothingly.

After a long moment her sobbing subsided a bit, and Gin said, “They’re all DEAD! Aren’t they?”

Jak didn’t have an answer for her, at least not one that would do anything to ease her pain and fear. Besides, it wasn’t really a question on her part, and he thought that she already knew the answer. Jak struggled to control his voice, to make it sound more reassuring to her, but he failed and his voice cracked. “What happened here Gin?”

Gin began to sob again and Jak found tears streaming down his own face and wanted to sob with her, but he needed to be strong for her. He was all she had left now that everyone else was dead.

“B--Br-Brigette,” Gin finally burst out between sobs.

“Brigette? What about Brigette?” Jak asked in confusion.

“She did it.” Gin sobbed. “Brigette did it, she killed everyone.”

“That can’t be,” he exclaimed, “Brigette would never do this. She couldn’t do it.”

“It WAS her!” Gin cried, “I saw her.”

“Just tell me exactly what happened,” Jak said, trying to keep his composure.

“I was sleeping and I heard a big crash. It woke me up and scared me. It woke Dalla up too. We didn’t know what it was. But there was a lot of noise coming from Mom and Dad’s room. It sounded like they were fighting. But you know they never fight. Anyway, Dalla told me to stay in bed and she would check to see what it was. I waited, and there were more loud noises and Dalla screamed. She had told me to stay in bed, but I was scared and wanted to see what was wrong. I snuck over and peeked through the door.” Gin began to tear up again and her lips quivered.