The Coven

Short horror story about a young woman who awakens as a prisoner being transported to an unknown area. Work in progress.

Her eyes shot open, only to be greeted by blackness and a dry burning sensation. She tried to scream, but felt the dry taste of a musty rag on her tongue, nearly causing her to vomit. She tried and tried to rid the foul thing from her mouth, but alas, was unsuccessful. The smell of old wood and mold satiated her nostrils. Drool began to run down her cheeks as she was unable to swallow correctly. In a panicked attempt to break free from her containment, she vigorously kicked her bound feet as hard as she could in to the side of her coffin, resulting in a chipped nail, and suffocated yelps of pain trying so eagerly to escape her throat. Here lie poor, poor Victoria. A ball of sweat blood and tears, breathing profusely; panicking. Writhing in a sea of terror and bewilderment. Why? Why was she here? How had this even happened? She did not remember the how’s or what’s or whys or even the who’s. She was just there. Existing inside a coffin. More thoughts of horror began to fill her head. Had she been buried? Was this box her eternal resting place? She began to squirm aimlessly in her wooden womb, tormented by her rushing thoughts of dread. She began to hyperventilate. In and out in and out in and out! Faster, Faster! The damp air from her breath escaped her nose as quickly as it had been captured. Victoria began to feel nauseous, she began to feel her body go numb. Her throat seized, and then...quiet.                                                                                                                                                                                                       

    "Victoria? Victoria? Where have you gone child?" The woman in the white cloak glimmered upon her pupil like the light of a candle. "Victoria? Come back Victoria!"

    She awoke in a sudden shudder, gasping, covered in a cold residue of her own sweat. Tear trails bled from her green eyes, crawling down her ornamental skin, crusting in between her freckles. Her Fiery red hair was grimy from the sweat. She was trembling. She attempted to inspect her cramped enclosure. Small beams of ambient light trickled in through cracks in the wooden quadrangle, enabling her to observe the dank casket to some small degree. She had been bound at the wrists and ankles. Her skin rubbed red and raw from her earlier struggles, sweat stinging the irritated flesh. At least she wasn't buried, a thought that had made her sick with dismay moments before passing out. Her thoughts began to swim with anxiety. She saw repeated images of her family flashing before her eyes, like a slideshow of a home movie. Her adoptive mother held her in her arms, comforting her after a particular day of school as a child. Her teacher, Sister Grey, had solidly displayed distaste for her from the moment her eyes had drawn across her. She even went so far as to encourage the other children not to speak with her. "That child has the eyes of the devil" She would gossip to the other teachers. When confronted due to concern of Victoria’s' mother, she had accused Victoria of lying, making a charade of the whole ordeal. Victoria had become the scapegoat at the school ever since that day. Sister Grey could never hold gaze with Victoria, she could never make eye contact. Like a dog with its master, she would turn away. It was almost as if she physically could not look in to Victoria's eyes, she had always assumed out of hatred.

A muffled noise shook Victoria’s' thoughts. All of a sudden, it was as though the floor had begun to move from underneath the wooden tomb. She could smell the thick haze of exhaust that engulfed the innards of her prison. Victoria began to cough and gag, made worse by the fact that the molded rag was still stuffed in to her mouth. Her throat was scratched and tender from her screams and the coughing. She fell in to quiet sobs of despair, fresh tears spilling over the crusty trails of the old. Drool began to dribble from her lips, and she did her best to contain herself once more.  Her stomach began to groan with hunger. Her aches and pains had begun to make their presence known as well. Her mothers' image swept across her eyes again, and then, black.

                                                                                           

She could smell roses. Roses and the scent of a candle burning in the dark. She could taste red wine covering her lips and dancing on her tongue. She could see a tall figure, clad in a white robe. Elegant hair as white as snow flowed from the opening in her cloak. Victoria struggled to catch a glimpse of her face, to see the interlopers' eyes with her own. She saw but a glimpse of her smile, and then, reality spilled across the beautiful canvas of her mind washing away nearly all that was left.

The vehicle had come to an abrupt halt, causing Victoria’s wooden keep to slide wildly about and crash into the wall of the vehicles' storage compartment. The force jostled Victoria violently inside the cage, causing her to strike her forehead against the wooden walls. Thick maroon blood began to ooze from the gash, running down into Victoria’s' deep emerald eyes to mix with her tears. It felt hot on her skin. She pinched her eyes shut to prevent more blood flowing into them. It was at that moment in time that she heard it. Through the whining ring in her ears, the tired croak of the engine, even through the thick wood of the box she lay in. A deep, gruff voice spoke to another. Victoria struggled to make silent her entire being, to hush her hurried breathing. She Squished her ear to a crack in the wood and listened.

"No. No more delays. Our mother awaits our arrival, and our gift. We cannot afford to delay her bidding any longer than we already have, brother." The first voice was deep and raspy. It croaked and cracked like the voice of a toad, its husk sent chills down Victoria’s' spine, tickling each follicle of hair and standing it straight against her clothing.

"Do you take me for a fool, brother? I know as well as you that mother does not like to be kept waiting. However, we can not work miracles. If it wasn't for your idiocy we wouldn't even be in this predicament in the first place. You were the one who lost the first daughter. You were lucky that mother spared you to find a second. Hell! You were lucky there even was a second!" The second voice writhed and hissed like an angry cobra. It pierced the air like a sharp sword, striking its will with every syllable.

"Do not take that tone in my presence, wretch!" The first voice again. Its' husk seemed to grow deeper with anger, in to a low, guttural growl. It was almost indecipherable. Victoria grew colder with fear with each word it spoke.

"Silence fool! If it were not for mothers' service I would incinerate you where you stand! However, it seems mother wishes to test my loyalty by subjecting me to the incompetent dealings of a worm such as yourself. Very well then. I shall not flinch or shutter from the task at hand, brother, can you say the same?" The second voice seemed to have a silver tongue. He went from the screeching shriek of a viper to the gentle flow of a waterfall all in the same thought. Silence followed. Victoria strained to hear anything else, though her fear was closing its' icy grip ever so slowly. She was beginning to feel panic. She had no idea who these two beings were, or what they were for that matter. They made sounds that didn't seem human, yet they spoke English as men.

"Go check on the witch. I heard something rustle about back there when we stopped. Make sure the crate isn't damaged. Mother wouldn't let you live if you lost another daughter." The hiss of the voice spat its' orders like vomit from its' mouth. Victoria heard slow heavy footsteps getting closer and closer. A thick stench of earth consumed the air inside her box, causing her to cough. There was a sudden groan of metal rubbing on metal, and more light pierced through the cracks in the wood. Victoria could see a dark outline of something she couldn't quite make out. It was large and towered over her wooden shell, blocking out any light she formerly had. Things were falling from it and landing on the box. Hard things. It almost sounded like dirt. She could here its' low guttural breathing, feeling its' breath on her face through the cracks. Her fear was gaining ground quickly. Victoria fought herself not to scream at the horror she was faced with. She strived to see the being as it got closer. She peered through the crack once more. What she saw was sheer terror. She struggled to choke a bloodcurdling scream in her throat as a pair of dark red burning eyes peered at her through the crack. That's all she could see of the things face. Two burning red eyes in a sea of blackness as dark as the voids of space and time. The thing laughed in a lowly tone as it shut the screeching metal to leave Victoria in the darkness, alone with her terror. She began to panic again. She felt like she was falling. Falling and spinning and all the while those two burning red eyes stared at her and laughed. Oh how they laughed and grinned at her despair. Blackness. Blackness and laughing. And then, nothing.

                                                                                     

"All that I am saying, Sister Grey, is that you need to be more leery of the consequences of your actions."

"Yes Father, but--"

"But nothing. Do you think that I do not remember the pact? I know what this child is, what she represents. Do you, Sister Grey?"

"Yes Father, But it only seems that--"

"It does not matter what it may seem! You put this whole order in check with the words of your foul tongue! We made a deal, and those who we've dealt with expect us to hold our end of the bargain, Sister Grey. I cannot allow you to put that in jeopardy. If the blood seer even so much as heard a whisper of your improvident words, it would endanger everything we've worked for."

"But Father I--"

"Silence! Do you not realize that she is here, this very moment, listening to every word that spills from our lips? Yes, Victoria, I am referring to you, sweet child. Sweet, sweet child."

As He turned to meet her gaze, his eyes burned as red as blood, as bright as the sun. A Black, sand-like substance spewed from his mouth, intent on devouring her whole. His wretched cackle echoed throughout the world as his appetite grew to monstrous proportion. All she could do was scream. 

Victoria woke, the shell of a scream lodged inside her throat, the nightmare brooding in her mind. She could still smell the fathers' rancid breath in the caverns of her nose. Her mouth had dried from the rag being lodged there for so long. It had soaked up the saliva of her mouth like a crusty sponge. She pushed her tongue against it, fruitlessly. Her muscles ached from remaining stagnant for so long. Tears of frustration and despair began to build up behind her eyes. How long had she been asleep? How long had she been inside this dreaded box? One long, silver tear dripped from her eye, followed by another, and another, and another. Would her eyes ever see beyond this wooden cell? Or would she rot inside her casket until she died, left to decay, eaten by maggots.

And these strange dreams she had? No, not dreams, they seemed to be more real than that, more vivid. These were visions. She had felt the presence of the one clad in white, she had tasted the red wine, smelled the candles. She smelled the fathers' rancid breath beating against her face like a turbulent wind. No, these were no mere dreams. She felt alive in these visions; connected. It was as though something or someone was trying to communicate with her. But who?

An equable yet stentorian voice interrupted her thoughts.

"I see you have brought my little raven. Very good. After your last barren attempt, I had doubted you would succeed. I will admit that I awaited your arrival, only to strike you down, but you have done well, my son. Now go, disembark and prepare for the ritual."

Obedient footsteps were all that acknowledged the lofty voices' command. Victoria struggled inside her cage, trying to find a little crack from which to observe anything she could. She hadn't realized that she'd been placed upright, and her jostling movement disturbed the box enough to tip it over. The clamor of the wooden box echoed throughout what seemed to be a large open cavern. A plank of one of the boards on the side of the box had cracked from the stress caused by the fall. Victoria’s' arms were still bound, and being so she could not effectively push upon the weak board, which still was being held stable by the surrounding woodwork. Frantic and desperate, she began to knock her head into the board. Ever so slightly did it push out, bringing Victoria’s' spirits of hope back from the depths of despair. She vigorously continued to bash her head into the wood, the adrenaline numbing the pain. 

After what seemed like hours, the board finally popped lose of the frame, falling to the ground like a stone. Victoria’s' eyes filled with tears at the small victory as she hurriedly scanned the area outside the box as best she could through the new window she'd made. Her coffin had been set to rest in a large room made of rock. In fact, she perceived it to be a cave. The moist air swept over her face like a chilling blanket, the damp, dank smell of moss and earth filled the cavity of her throat. A weak, ambient light filled the room from an unknown location. She could barely make out what was in front of her eyes. Something had caught her attention, a subtle movement just beyond her sight. She squinched her eyes in attempt to identify the movement. It seemed to be getting larger, yet moved ever so slowly, with purpose. It was something black, yes she could see now. A black object getting closer. She began to see the silhouette more clearly. It was that of a person, only without feature. It seemed to be a robed person getting closer, and closer. Every second the black, robed figure became just a tad larger. Victoria could hear a small hissing sound that accompanied the being now, a mist of smoke seemed to come from under its feet, creating small clouds of fog as the thing walked. She began to retreat her head to the back of her casket in fear. She could smell a strange, crisp burning smell now. The thing was gaining ground to her, muttering some strange chant to itself, the blackness in its' hood getting ever so darker. Madness and terror now gripped Victoria in a vice of stone. She felt paralyzed. The air was trapped inside her lungs, unable to escape. The thing was now ten, maybe 15 feet away. It drizzled a black, powdery substance from its cloak with each step. With each step, the scorching earth aroma became stronger. With each step, the clouds of gray mist larger. With each step, the hissing and muttered chanting louder, and Victoria’s' fear grew colder. It now stood inches from her cell, fog and must filling up the little womb she lay in.

"Chau tau komou sau dun. Chau tau komou sau dun." 

It spit the words from the black pit of a face. Burning red eyes locked into Victoria’s' like knives stabbing through flesh. As the thing reached to her with its estranged scaly hands, a wicked crow of laughter crawled from the abyss of its bowels.

                                                                                           

Author's Note

I haven't written anything in a while and this is an attempt to rekindle something I once enjoyed but lost time for. It's meant to be a short story, but I haven't finished it yet. This is what I have so far, just an idea of what it might turn out like. A work in progress.

Reviews

[Scandalous]

Time is such a b***h and it may make writing tougher but it hardly shows! Could use some work but its deffinatly coming along nicely. Keep up the good work!

~ Scandalous