The rain started when Tabitha left her village, and continued still as she made her way to York. Her frail body was wrapped beneath all the dresses she had ever owned. Tabitha hoped that the thick cloth would protect her from the chilliness. In her young mind, Tabitha also hoped that she would be protected from the plague. But the unforgiving storm continued, and Tabitha's blonde hair was soaked black. She knew the dangers of traveling alone. But with no family except some relatives in York, Tabitha felt obliged to take the risk.
As Tabitha trudged down a muddy road, she saw two men driving a cart. The men kept their eyes on Tabitha. She, on the other hand, kept her eyes averted. She knew what was in the cart. Even though she kept her eyes faced forward, Tabitha could still sense the twisted and swollen corpses piled into the cart. They were on their way to being thrown into their burying pit. The same happened with her family. But for some reason, perhaps by God's grace, Tabitha was spared from the same fate.
The day kept passing, and Tabitha was growing concerned. She was not sure if she was following the right path. Night was approaching, and Tabitha prepared herself for another sleepless night in the forest. But then, she could hear monastery bells in the distance. She followed the sound until the darkness clouded her vision. She prayed to herself until a torch light appeared a few feet before her. Tabitha could see a monk standing before the monastery entrance. He stopped ringing the bell, and looked toward her.
"My dear child, are you lost?" asked the monk, the concern evident in his voice.
Tabitha almost could not find her voice, until the words suddenly spilled from her lips.
"I am trying to reach York, but the roads…"
Sadness filled the monk's eyes. Tabitha feared what he was going to say.
"You should abandon your travels. York has been overcome by the plague."
His words struck Tabitha like a hammer. She knew that her family was no more. She was the only surviving member of her kin. Tabitha collapsed from the force of it all…the travels, the grief, and the death. Her entire world turned black. As the monks and nuns gathered around her supine body, waving roses above her nose, Tabitha could have sworn that something was burrowing itself into her. Something that was evil.
Weeks had passed, and Tabitha was adjusting to her new life. She was fortunate to stumble onto the monastery. The monks and nuns lived in separate quarters, yet all attended to the people that had narrowly escaped the plague's wrath. Despite its rusticity, the monastery was a haven to all that stayed beneath its roof. Tabitha helped the nuns provide food to the other survivors. She did not mind the tasks, as they distracted Tabitha from the loss of her family members.
As she grew more comfortable, Tabitha began to forget the feeling she had that first night. The monks had placed her in a bed, and Tabitha felt the room swirling around her. Looking up at the concerned faces, Tabitha would see flashes of something dark and fast in between the monks. It would pause, look at Tabitha, and then shift to another place in the room. Tabitha could have sworn that the force's eyes were red. Tabitha blamed that night's visions on hunger and exhaustion. She had been traveling for days in poor weather. Besides, Tabitha prayed every night for God's protection. She believed that if any evil did exist, that God would protect her.
Tabitha was glad for the kindness of the people around her. The plague had scared everyone so much that there was little need for hubris. But there was one person in particular that made Tabitha uncomfortable. It was Hildagard Fletcher, a wizened woman that had lived in London. Although it was never confirmed, Tabitha knew immediately that Hildagard had lived a wealthy life. Hildagard distanced herself from the other people. She remained shrouded in her finest red gown, and wore a headdress with a silk veil that covered each of Hildagard's eyes. There was one piece that Hildagard seemed to prize—a rosary with a ruby crucifix as the centerpiece.
Tabitha noticed that the monks and nuns were civil to Hildagard. But even though Hildagard professed to be deeply religious, Tabitha noticed that all behaved towards her out of force rather than genuineness. The nuns would always send Tabitha to deliver sustenance to Hildagard, a chore that the young girl disliked. Tabitha would make her way to the corner of the chapel, where Hildagard liked to sit on the last pew. Usually, Tabitha would just set the food tray near Hildagard and walk away. Hildagard would sit listlessly on the pew, staring out the window. Sometimes Tabitha could swear that Hildagard was chanting to herself. But Hildagard would never pay any attention to Tabitha, keeping her line of vision outside.
Hildagard's history eventually passed through the monastery walls. Her husband, Lord Robert Fletcher, ruled over numerous fiefs. It was said that he ruled with an iron fist, acting as a strict judge and enforcer among his peasants. Their manor overlooked the land from a hill, and was the place for elaborate dinners. But when the plague afflicted even the nobles, everyone fell into dire circumstances. Hildagard escaped from London, after having paid a waterboatsman to charter her across the river. Lord Fletcher had already perished, and Hildagard was no longer a noblewoman. She reached the monastery in desperation, though her pride was still intact.
Tabitha felt pity for the woman, even though Hildagard regarded everyone in a standoffish manner. As a peasant, Tabitha knew the minds of nobles, having served as a maid before. The monastery was a sharp contrast to the life Tabitha once knew. Her father was an irascible and abusive man, even as he was succumbing to the plague's effects. He would cough blood, yet still demanded his spirits. But the days were growing kinder to Tabitha, and as she was again given the tray to deliver to Hildagard, she marveled at the monastery's tranquility.
She set the tray down as she had done so many times before. As she turned to walk away, Tabitha could feel Hildagard shift behind her.
"Come here," spoke the old woman. Tabitha was surprised by the force in the woman's voice. She approached cautiously, trying not to let nervousness overcome her.
Behind the old woman's veil, Tabitha could see two white eyes. Despite their calcified appearance, Hildagard seemed to be eyeing Tabitha from head to toe.
"You're very pretty for a peasant girl."
Tabitha was confused by the woman's compliment.
"But I sense something dark in you," the old woman turned to face the window, "You wicked girl…the evil sees you already."
The young girl bristled at Hildagard's words.
Hildagard looked at Tabitha again, but in a confused manner.
"What are you still doing here?" asked the old woman, "I did not request your company."
Hildagard made a hostile hand gesture.
With that, Tabitha abruptly left the room. She felt the walls closing in, and the woman's words ringing through her mind The evil sees you already.
Just when peace began to inhabit Tabitha's soul, strange occurrences were happening at the monastery.
The roses used to safeguard everyone from the plague would set aflame.
Whenever the monks or nuns were doing processions, a sudden chill would inhabit the chapel.
Dead animals would collect by the monastery's entrance.
The people grew worried, and started whispering among themselves. Each supernatural happening would occur in Tabitha's presence.
With the nightmares that she began having, Tabitha wondered herself if she was the culprit. One dream, especially, haunted her. She was walking in a field of goldenrods until the sky turned red, and corpses littered her surroundings. The ground would open up, and a horned man would rise. His eyes were tar-colored, and seemed infinite. He would extend his clawed hand to Tabitha. Join us, he would say, we are waiting for you.
The beast would hold out Hildagard's rosary. There were eyeballs in the place of each bead, with the blood dripping from the ruby at the end. Tabitha would kneel to the ground, her dress soaked with putrid flesh and maggots. She would position herself underneath the ruby, and taste the blood that dripped from it. The taste was intoxicating, and the girl felt as though a fire was spreading throughout her body. Just when Tabitha felt she could give herself over to this demonic force, she began thinking of God and heaven. No sooner did the thoughts enter her head, the beast would tear its talons into Tabitha's stomach.
Tabitha would always awaken with a start, bathed in sweat. She could hear a commotion down the hall. The whispers found their way to Tabitha's ears. Another person had succumbed to the plague.
On yet another cold winter's morning, Tabitha sheltered herself in the chapel. The monks, nuns, and the others were burying another child, and Tabitha could not handle death again. She felt that the monastery was a sacred place, yet the plague found its way in. Tabitha wondered if the plague was like a fog that would seep through any crack in the walls. She began to wonder if there were such cracks in her sleeping quarters, and the thought terrified her.
She sat on a pew, praying to God for all the bad things to end. She wanted to rid herself of all the wicked thoughts that filled her head. The nightmares had been growing worse over the last few nights. Tabitha found herself mesmerized by Hildagard's rosary. She fantasized about taking the rosary and straggling Hildagard with it. She would then use the ruby, and cut out Hildagard's ivory eyes. She felt an evilness overcoming her, but could not stop it.
Tabitha opened her eyes, and was startled to see Hildagard in front of her.
"It is so hard to grow old," said Hildagard. Tears were welling in her eyes. Tabitha had never seen the woman express so much emotion.
"My family is all gone. I've outlived my husband, my children, everybody."
Tabitha looked at Hildagard with compassion.
"I know your loss, Hildagard." It was the first time that Tabitha actually spoke Hildagard's name. She had believed that saying the old woman's name would almost be sacrilegious. But instead, a wave of euphoria filled Tabitha.
"I spent years praying to God…hoping for miracles…but I never felt Him."
"Sometimes, you just need to keep trying. God is in all of our hearts," said Tabitha wholeheartedly.
Hildagard laughed. The laugh turned into a cackle, and Tabitha felt alarmed by the sudden change in Hildagard's behavior.
"I keep forgetting what a silly girl you are," said Hildagard.
Tabitha's face turned red with embarrassment.
"I was you once," said Hildagard, "I prayed every night to this rosary." Hildagard gripped the rosary hard until blood dripped from her hand. Tabitha remembered her dream, and the sight of blood made her head swirl.
"My father married me off to my husband, as if I was worthless livestock. Each night, my husband…the good Lord Fletcher…would demand that I drop my linens. Every time I bore him children, I thought his cold hands would stop touching me. But instead, they became fists that beat my black."
Tabitha could not believe the woman's words.
"I used to pray that my husband would die. I hated his laugh, the way he would stand, the way he would be so jovial with spirits in front of guests and cruel and malicious in our bedroom the same night."
"When I had my first child, I hated how he had his father's eyes. He would cry in the middle of the night…tormenting me. Until one night, I smothered him in the bed sheets. I blamed the maid for it, and she was hanged."
"I surrendered myself when the second child came, and died inside with each newborn. My spirit was broken until I found his love…"
The young girl was hopeful that Hildagard would state her repentance.
"A small group of women delivered me from my suffering. We banded together in sisterhood, using sorcery against those that crossed us. But of us all, I stood out the most for my magical prowess. I caught his attention. I will be spared, and will not perish like you common peasants."
The word took a moment to sink in. Then, Tabitha looked wide-eyed at Hildagard.
"Yes, girl, say it," said Hildagard, the words slithering like serpents, "Witch."
"Why are you telling me this?" asked Tabitha, the tears welling in her eyes.
"Because in pursuit of his love, I crossed paths with the wrong demon," said Hildagard gravely, "He clouded my sight for defacing his altar. I felt invincible, and failed to solidify my alliances."
"Please, Hildagard, stop your words," said Tabitha, covering her ears, "You might still be saved by…."
"Lucifer" said Hildagard, "Yes, of course. The demon shall perish so long as I deliver one thing to Lucifer."
Hildagard raised her dress, and produced a knife. Tabitha froze in fear.
"All you have to do is hold still, my dear," a sinister smile spread across Hildagard's face. She sprung her attack on Tabitha.
Tabitha tried to wrestle the knife away from Hildagard, but the old woman's grip would not budge. Hildagard's eyes shifted from cataract white to deep black. Tabitha gasped in horror, and the old woman seized the opportunity. The knife sunk into Tabitha's chest, and the pain was so excruciating that the girl could not even yell.
Soon, Hildagard was looking down upon Tabitha's lifeless body in triumph.
"I have done what you asked of me, Lucifer," said Hildagard, "This virgin's blood will sate the appetite of your brethren. Grant me my wish for immortality."
The old woman could hear Lucifer's voice in her head…You have pleased me very much. Our appetite is whetted with the girl's soul and purity. You may now inhabit your new body.
Hildagard looked down at Tabitha's corpse again.
Be aware that a body will age. But you may do with humans as you please. Inhabit whoever you want, so long as you serve me forever.
The old woman was only too glad to serve her dark lord. Hildagard's evil spirit pooled together into a dark haze, and entered Tabitha. After transferring, Hildagard removed the rosary from her former body, and ripped the ruby off. She held it in her hand as the sun's faint rays shone through the ruby. The walls were bathed in redness.
She listened to the calm female voice on the other line. The young woman's British accent conjured up envy and memories for her.
"Are you sure it's the knife?" she asked.
"It's positively a relic from the Middle Ages," said the female voice, "The legend is attached to it…that Anna—the angel of battle—blessed the knife to rid the world of demons. Quite a tale, isn't it?"
Out of all the precious virgins in the world…Tabitha had to be a prophet. Lucifer left that part out. But thankfully, it was a prophet that was lost and unguarded by an archangel.
"Sounds like the knife I'm looking for." She pushed her blonde hair over her left shoulder.
"Where shall we meet?"
"Actually, I'll send one of my associates. Have the knife ready, and you'll have your money. Tomorrow afternoon…Highland Museum…Medieval Art section."
"Splendid…and appropriate for the occasion. Just so we're clear…if your associate tries anything, I will have no problem killing him."
"I wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart. Just between us girls, how did you become so great at tracking down priceless antiques, Bela?"
"A girl has to keep her secrets, Hildagard."
"I know exactly what you mean. Oh, and Bela…."
"Yes, love."
"You can call me Ruby."
"Ruby, it is, then. Until tomorrow, then. Goodnight."
Ruby could not believe her good fortune. Now having escaped from hell, she finally had a chance to take down Lilith. But she needed insurance—in the form of two handsome, but deadly brothers…the younger one in particular. But it didn't matter to Ruby. After so many centuries spent passing from one body to another, Ruby always had more luck and fun with a blonde host. Sure, she would have to use a man's body tomorrow. But why not occasionally switch to the other sex? It couldn't be worse than the plague.