Chapter 16

Sixteen

The New Bedeville Cemetery was substantially larger than I anticipated, despite seeing how far it branched out into the world. Alastair and I had been walking north, following the winding path, for what felt like forever as it steadily led us higher in altitude. I glanced around, admiring the timeless headstones and statues, each perfectly unique in their own way. The night had been quiet, peaceful, really. There was no negative shift in the energy surrounding us or shadows dancing in the moonlight to catch our eyes. Maybe this place wasn't haunted after all.

Alaska.

The faint whisper of my name caused me to gasp, my flashlight whipping around, searching my surroundings for the owner of the eerie voice. Alastair's ears reacted, as if hearing it too, turning with me.

Help us.

My body spun around, frantically searching the labyrinth of gravestones, the beam of my light strobing in all directions. Alastair's head remained perched high, scanning the rolling hills for the source of the whispered words.

Help us.

Help us, Alaska.

The ghostly pleas were now repeating, echoing in the cold night air as multiple voices began to overlap one another. My heart raced in a panic, fearful of what phenomenon was happening. Alastair stood at my side on alert, oddly calm as my eyes searched for the root of this madness.

"Who's there?" I called out into the darkness, reluctant to hear a reply.

You need not fear us, Alaska.

A wave of comfort draped over me, smothering my discomfort and anxiety. My shoulders relaxed, as the fear in my veins morphed into curiosity.

Help us.

Help us, Alaska.

We beg you.

Help us.

"Who are you?" I asked again. A strange eeriness formed behind me, forcing my eyes to wander over my shoulder. My body followed my gaze, as if an invisible thread was now pulling from deep within my soul. I allowed the foreign force to guide me, an ever-growing interest pulsing through my veins. That surge of intrigue attracted me, puppeting my feet as I followed my internal instincts and allowed it to lead me. The feeling carried me further into the cemetery in a new direction, steering me towards a small, overgrown path that branched from the main walkway. As I stepped onto the muddy earth, I could feel the magnetic energy pulling me tighter, tugging at my soul. I was nearing whatever this paranormal power wanted me to find.

Alastair trotted alongside me as we ventured deeper down the foreboding path, the trees of the nearby forest rustling from the cold breeze. The golden light of my flashlight revealed something oddly prominent in the distance, nestled between two weeping willow trees. As I stepped closer, my mind clicked, registering what I was staring at. Roosting tall, just a few feet from me, was a single, discolored tombstone tucked between the trees, hidden by a patch of overgrown weeds. The overwhelming wave of electricity in the air told me that this was it—the source of everything.

The strange pull grew as I inched closer, the overlapping whispered voices increasing in volume with each step I took, drowning out the sounds of the nightlife. The world around me melted in a thick layer of chaos, buzzing with anticipation, burrowing into my bones as I stopped directly in front of the overgrown grave.

You found us.

I studied the tall slab. The weathered headstone wasn't elaborate or detailed like the others; instead, it was far simpler. Older. Alastair walked around the stone, sniffing it with curiosity.

Yes. Help us.

Help us, Alaska.

Using my flashlight to guide me, my hands wiped away thick layers of dirt and vines, struggling to read the text along the rugged surface out loud to myself. "In memory of those innocents who died, victims of the Hemlock killings—" The color drained from my face as the unfinished words left my lips. The Hemlock killings. Not only were they real, but they took place here, in New Bedeville. Did Cain know? My eyes continued, picking up where I had left off as I read out loud. "May God bless their souls and damn the demon who stole them." My fingers brushed down the carved slab, frightened by the amount of names engraved beneath the memorial text. I counted each one, whispering their individual names into the night, the number totaling well over thirty. It sickened me to know that Cain's story was not only true, but that someone could commit such horrendous crimes. What kind of a person enjoyed inflicting such horror onto others?

Help us.

My head moved, searching the emptiness around me. The whispers. It must belong to them, the victims. I gazed back at the tombstone, everything molding together and making sense. They were asking me to help them.

I placed my hand against the top of the tombstone, the feeling of suffering and sorrow slamming into my chest as the memories of the victim's painfully agonizing deaths flashed behind my eyes, the sounds of their torture echoing in my ears. The loud, vivid nightmares played all at once in my mind as the overwhelming sense of feeling lost sank in my stomach. Such tremendous fear, pain, and despair.

The victim's murders continued to play, black flashes splitting them apart as an unknown man's eerie laugh rang through each, as if sewing their endless trauma together.

You can't save them.

The memories collided into one, the sound and images scrambling together, rupturing as my mind fell into silent blackness. I could feel myself standing in an endless void of my consciousness as two green eyes stared back at me, glowing. A deep, distorted, unnatural voice shook my bones as it spoke.

You cannot save them. Their souls are forever mine.

The voice growled, the volume immediately intensified in such a way that my hands covered my ears, attempting to block the painful trembles. The overlapping whispers returned, speaking all at once, twisting with the ominous laughter as everything swirled around me like a strong wind. Pain, fear, sadness, and evil looped together, constricting me. It was too much and became overwhelmingly intense. I closed my eyes, fighting the whirling air and growing sounds, struggling to contain my sanity. Stop, I cried to myself. Stop! I screamed, a wave of my magic bursting from my body as everything collided into blue flames, consuming the world.

My body shot back, slamming into the overgrown grass as I broke free from the darkness that resided deep within the gravestone. I struggled to catch my breath, my eyes trying to adjust to the darkness as I looked around, realizing I was now back in the cemetery. Alastair's head nudged me, attentive to my unsettled state as he observed me. "I'm okay." I stroked his head, trying to control my breathing. "They're trapped here." I spat the words between heavy breaths, pointing to the victims' headstone. "They need me to set them free, to break whatever evil is holding their souls captive, but how?" I rolled to my knees, crawling back to the stone as Alastair shadowed me. "How?" I asked the victims. "Tell me. How can I help you?"

Magic.

Of course. I glanced at the golden eyed wolf, knowing what I had to do.

I quickly removed my bag, placing it on the ground as I carefully propped the flashlight on top of it to illuminate the memorial tombstone. Alastair sat down, watching me closely. "These people deserve eternal peace, Alastair," I positioned myself in front of the stone, my hand quickly igniting, "and I intend to give it to them." One of the few perks of being a witch was being born with the substantial knowledge of how to cast such spells.

I lifted my index finger, now burning bright, and touched the cold stone as I began to chant to myself, my words blending with the overlapping whispers. "Mother of magic, hear my words." My finger moved as magic burned from it, searing a protective circle into the top of the tombstone. "Guide these innocent souls through the shadows and bathe them in your light." A strange resistance pushed against my hand as I tried to continue, fighting the invisible power. My jaw clenched, my free hand now gripping my wrist as my finger burned and I pushed the words from my mouth. "Shield them from the unwanted and keep them safe within this divine circle of this protection."

Be careful.

He is here.

I was too focused on the spell to register the meaning of their words, groaning, desperate to complete the protective circle. I looped the inside of the enchantment and connected the symbol to itself. The foreign resistance immediately disappeared as the symbol burst with light, faint blue sparkles drifting from it onto the damp ground. The whispers had vanished.

The feeling of dread now absent, replaced with a calm silence. Faint sparkles of my magic glistened in the air of the night as I panted, pleased with the completed spell. There. Now you can all rest in peace.

Alastair huffed, wagging his tail. I wiped a few small beads of sweat from my forehead, grabbing my things. "Come on, we should leave them be now." I glanced over my shoulder, the protective symbol faintly glowing from within the stone.

Thank you.