Summary - Isabella Swan has always been a bit of a misfit, and never really fit in. Preferring the quite life of sitting at home and curling up to a good book, her world is thrown for a loop and turned upside down. Her scatter-brained mother was getting remarried, and wanting to go on the road with her new husband, Phil. Being the ever loving, doting daughter that she was, Bella decides to move in with her father in Forks, Washington, only to be thrown for another loop. Her father was in the process of getting transferred to Salem, Massachusetts. Completely miffed, Bella doesn't arrive in a happy mood. And to make matters worse, when she starts school, she finds out that everyone is out of their minds! However, when a local boy takes her to the old Haunted House, things turn from a little bit strange, to completely out of this world, faster than her mind can take.
Prologue
I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage where every man must play a part, And mine is a sad one.
-William Shakespeare
All Hollows Eve, the dreaded night our town fears most. For years now, children have been disappearing into the woods and to never be seen again. We all had our suspicions, but no one dares voice them aloud. The disappearances started when the three Sanderson sisters sailed in from England, when I was but a small boy, ignorant of many things in the world that did not include the duties I had to my family and the town. They had come into town dressing in colors I had never seen before, and I was drawn to them instantly, almost as if a string had been tied and they held the other end. The other children were as in awe of these three beautiful strangers as I was, but no one paid attention. The adults were always suspicious of new comers, but they did not seemed threatened by these ones.
They arrived before the Harvest festival, a few months before All Hollows Eve. This was a time of year when we would start bringing in our first harvest' of the year, and it always brought cause to celebrate. This years crops were bountiful and there would be no one going hungry. Our cattle had increased in numbers, and the coats on our sheep were thick. Everyone in town was in a joyous mood until they arrived. However, when nothing strange had happened within a month of them being here, everyone started letting their guard down. A few of the town men had put forth their interest to court the prettiest of the three, Sarah Sanderson, a flirty blond who seemed to always be in a good mood. However, the eldest of the three and the one that seemed to be in charge, Winifred would tell them that they had to win her affections by helping them build their house. The men had seemed so eager to please, so they started right away.
The house was built in the middle of the woods and away from the town. When asked why, they would simply say they wanted their privacy. They never turned up for church, and never came to any town gatherings. A few of the jealous town girls had accused them of witchcraft, but none of the important figures that we all look to for justice paid them any mind. I think now that they should have listened.
The first disappearance happened on All Hollows Eve, a young girl of six and the Priest daughter. The search party went on for a month. I had been part of it everyday--after my duties were done--on my fathers orders. No one ever found her, not even a corpse. When the town saw the three sisters next, no one noticed how young and vital they looked all of a sudden, and no one paid it any mind, to focused on the mourning of one of our little ones.
No one suspected them for three more years, when a mother who had just lost her four year old son to the Hollows Eve disappearances pointed out facts that the town had not paid attention too. It seemed rather odd that no one paid them any attention, for they were blatantly obvious to anyone with the wit to think. The council debated for days, adding up all the details and facts, but they had no proof, and they could not go around accusing people of Witchcraft without proof.
That very same woman who'd lost her son was in hysterics at the conclusion. She set out the very next day to confront the Sisters, but that was the last anyone had seen her alive. Mary Sanders, a chunky brunette who seemed to be the more moronic of the three, came stumbling into town, babbling about wolves. Everyone had panicked, Mary's dress was torn and ripped and blood was pouring from a wound on her arm. In the distance we could hear the howl of a wolf, and the loud scream of a woman. The men instantly grabbed their weapons and raced into the woods. Hours later they come back with the torn body of Goody Thompson, the mother who had lost her four year old son.
All suspicion of the sisters were then thrown off, and everyone of the accusing parties felt guilty for blaming the 'innocent' sisters who lived out in the dangerous woods by themselves. I could not help but think that there was a big problem with this whole situation. When had we ever had a wolf attach in our quite little colony? When I voiced my opinion to my father, he just scoffed and told me to let the adults handle it. I rebutted that I was ten summers, and adult enough! He and his friends stared and laughed at me. They laughed! I then told father that I would find the other children myself, and all laughter disappeared from fathers eyes, turned quickly to fear.
"Ye listen to me Edward! Don't be going into them woods by thyself ye understand son? I don't want to send a searching party after thee as well! And with thy mother expecting a little one, we'll have to be doubly guarded!" He proceeded to get on his knees and gave me a good shake. "Promise me! Thy mother would be devastated!" I could see tear brimming in his eyes and I instantly felt guilty. I promised him and gave him a hug around his neck; I could tell I had frightened him with that thought. "Good, now get back to thy chores, son."
Mother gave birth to another son in November, and named him Nathanial. He had the same copper hair that was a family trait to the Masons, and the same stunning green eyes that belonged to mother. As he grew older, like me, he was another set of hands to use around the farm. Every year on that dreaded night, mother and father would have him sleep in their bed. It was already apparent that only the smaller children were disappearing, the ones under ten summers; I had nothing to worry about.
Every year on All Hollows Eve, a child disappears. Every year, the children would be safely locked up in their rooms, doors locked, windows barred, and parents awake and on guard for any noise they could hear. For the next twelve years this went on. By now, no one doubted Goody Thompson, god bless her soul. But every time someone went to confront the sisters, the result would be horrendous. The sisters stopped playing innocent whenever a parent who had lost their child would come by, only to never return alive. In all those years, the sisters never aged.
When I was sixteen summers, and rightfully a man, mother had given birth to the most beautiful little girl and named her Emily. Her hair was bright blonde, almost white, and her green eyes shone like emeralds. She was always happy, and her chubby cheeks were dimpled. I instantly fell in love, me and Nathan both. Whenever our chores were done, we would be playing with Emily, for she was our families pride and joy. By time she could walk, she was following Nathan or I around, trying to help us with our chores, and we would find ourselves slacking in order to please her. When she learned to talk, her first words were 'Ed Ed!' and my hearts felt like bursting, I was so happy.
But my world came crashing down in horror on the dreaded night. She was six, and I was twenty-two. I awoke to the sky turning from black to blue, and the sun peaking over the tree line. It was time to get some preparations going to keep all the town children safe tonight; it was more for our security than theirs. No matter what we did, children were always disappearing. So I started my day, and went to check on precious Emily. She was not in her bed, but that was not odd, she sometimes woke up before anyone and went to play with the cats outside. I wondered outside to see our neighbor, and my good friend Zachery Binx.
"Hast thee seen Emily this morn, Zachary?" He shook his head and shrugged. That's when we heard the sound, and my heart almost stopped. The sound of the Witches Song, the one Sarah the Beautiful sung to lure children away. I saw a flash of white bouncing out the corner of my eye and watched in horror as Emily was in the field before the woods, skipping her way to them.
"Emily!" I screamed as loud as my lung would let me. "Emily no! Don't go in there!" I started running and could hear Zachary behind me. They were early! They usually took a child at night! We chased after Emily, and ran into the woods without a moments hesitation. We both watched in horror as Emily walked right into the witches house like it was her own. I grabbed a handful of Zachary's shirt and pulled him towards me. In an urgent whispered, I told him to go get my father and the others. Zachary nodded urgently, and proceeded to run as fast as his legs could take him. I knew I could count on him.
Gulping down a breath of air, I proceeded to climb the watermill on the side of their house, and jumped to a window ledge. Looking in I could see the three sisters circling my poor Emily who sat in a chair and looked as happy as ever, like she had just made new friends. When I looked into her eyes however, there was nothing there. It was like all comprehension had been erased from her mind.
Behind the sisters, a huge cauldron was brewing a smoky concoction, in which the sister Mary was stirring with a large wooden ladle. They were talking to Emily, it appeared, and she just looked at them with that happy smile on her face, dimples showing.
I climbed through the window silently, and crowed on the loft above, watching…waiting for my chance to save Emily. They kept throwing things into the brew, like dead mans toe, and tongue. I shuddered involuntarily, and I could feel myself breaking out into a cold sweat of fear. I watched Winifred spit into the brew and watched as it turned a bright, sickly green color, and started to boil fiercely. She smiled in victory of a brew well done.
"Sista's! Me thinks its ready!" She said with a superior voice echoing through the room. Sarah came bouncing over in giddy excitement, then proceeded to bounce and dance around Winifred, Mary and my oblivious sister sitting silently in her chair.
"Oh! I am going to be beautiful!" It when then that I noticed wrinkles and shadows on the three witches, and they did appear to be older. My heart stopped, and I almost heaved. They were using the children to become young and beautiful! I felt the blind rage start to over power me, but I kept it in check, but I gripped the railing until my knuckles were white and bloodless.
Mary took a scoop of the potion, and like someone had flipped a switch, Sarah suddenly stopped and stood to one side of Winifred, and Mary to the other, and my marched in sync towards Emily. "Open up wide little girl, and give us thy soul," said Winifred in a sweet voice, as if she were asking for mere candy, and no the life of my precious sister. I jumped down behind them and shouted, "Don't Emily! Don't drink it!" Sarah turned around and with a big grin said "Oh! A boy! Can I have him Wini?" I did not notice Mary slipping the potion into Emily's mouth. With a growl I kicked the rest of the brew over and watched in satisfaction as the liquid seeped through the floor boards. Winifred yelled in anger, and that was when I felt the worst pain of my life.
Electric fingers seeped from the red heads hand, and lifted me up, banging me against the wall. It felt like my insides were being fried. With a growl, Winifred lifted the hex, and I dropped to the floor with a thud. "Sisters," said Mary, her voice lacking sense. "I believe she's ready!" The leader of the three growled at me and pointed her finger.
"You, stay," and I felt my limbs freeze up, as if I were tied to the floor by unseen rope. I watched in complete horror as they circled once again around my sister. There appeared to be a white mist around her, and I felt my heart sink to my gut in understanding. Her soul. I was powerless to stop them, and watched in defeat as they sucked the soul out of my precious Emily. Tears started to fall from my eyes.
"No matter how many children's souls thy suck out, thee will always be ugly old hags! I hope thy soul rots in the seventh level of hell!" I shouted in anger! Winifred gasped in horror and spun around. I could see the different immediately. Her wrinkles were gone and the shadows vanished. My eyes strayed to Emily and I watched as her head fell as the last of her soul was sucked from her body. She was dead.
"Does thy hear what this boy calls thee sista's? He called thee ugly!" Both Sarah and Mary gasped for dramatic effect. "Now what shall we do with him, I wonder," she tapped her cheek thoughtfully. Sarah lit up like a candle.
"Oh! Sister! Canst I play with him? I love to play with boys," she giggled and whispered her hand over her bosom. I shuddered in horror. I'd rather die than 'play' with this witch. Winifred hit her in the stomach, and Sarah bent over and coughed.
"Absolutely not Sarah! Thy hath plenty of boys to play with. No, I've got a better idea for our guest," she gave me a grin that turned my insides cold. "How does eternity of living sound to thee, boy? Eternity knowing thee could not save thine sista? Oh! How about an eternity of killing and butchering? Oh! Sounds marvelous dear!" I had no idea what she was talking about, I could never kill an innocent person! The other two sisters stood solemnly to either side of Winifred and all three started to sway back and forth with their hands raised towards me. In a language I could not understand, they started to cast in a sing song kind of way. I started to feel a burning inside of me, spreading slowly. As they finally stopped, the burning had spread from my core, to my whole torso, and was still spreading. The pain was excruciating, to painful for any screaming, for my jaw was locked with the pain. Before I closed my eyes, I got one last look at the satisfied grins on the three sisters.
My body started to convulse in agony and I curled myself into a fetal position. I was dimly aware of shouting and the banging of doors, before the pain took all comprehension from me.
I watched in horror as my eldest son convulsed on the floor of the Witches house. What was he thinking coming here alone? I prayed to our holy God that he would make it out of this alive, that the sisters had done nothing permanent. My eyes wondered around the room in curiosity, for I had never stepped foot into this house -- and with just reasoning's too. My eyes landed on a girl sitting in a chair, slumped over, and her bonnet hanging only just on her head. I walked over to her and pushed her into a sitting position, wondering whose child's life had been stolen tonight. The face I saw was one I had hoped and prayed I would never see. Sitting in that chair, eyes open and staring lifelessly back at me was my beautiful Emily. My knees dropped to the floor, and my eyes filled with tears. My arms folded around the lifeless body of my daughter and I wept with everything in me. It was then that one of the sisters spoke to me.
"Oh she was a delicious meal, let me assure you. Our beauty will last us a long time thanks to thy beautiful daughter," it was the redhead, the leader of the three. I got up from the floor, and god help me I've never hit a woman before, but my fist slamming into her 'beautiful' face gave me so much satisfaction, but not enough to quench the vengeance my heart yearned for. I instructed two of the men to take Edward back to the house and lay him in bed. The rest would help me bring these witches to the town center.
"What are we going to do with them sir?" It was Zachary Binx, Edwards best friend. I looked him square in the eye, and with a calm steady voice I answered.
"We are going to burn them in front of the church, with the power of God at our hands, will they burn," I seethed with revenge strengthening me. It is a sin to feel what I feel, but if I go to hell than so be it. This town has suffered long enough, and we will have our justice in the form of their cindered carcasses. All who heard my words cheered and raised their weapons in the air in victory. The Sanderson sister will haunt us no more.
The whole town was gathered. Not one face was drawn in sorrow to see them burn, but sorrow for the ones they've lost. Sorrow for the lives they would never again know, and sorrow the what was suppose to be, but never was, because these demon spawn has stolen them too soon.
The Three Witches had their own wooden pole, tied and bound high enough for the whole town to see, and secure enough that they could not even twitch. At their feet was enough wood to make sure they were burned thoroughly. Two other men and I stood in front of the sisters with torches lit in our hands, glaring up at the evil that our eyes fell upon.
"I will ask thee one more time! What hast thou done with my son Edward! So help me God, I will make thee suffer through death if thou does not hell me!" I seethed at the sister Winifred, and I could feel my face shrunk into an evil rage. I watched as she threw her head back into a laugh, as if being burned at the stake did not agitate her fear.
"I assure thee dear sir, I hath not the faintest clue what ye are babbling about!" She was mocking me! I could feel it in my very bones, and I shook with the anger it caused. Her eyes went wide, and her grin was evil and she chuckled "Book!" her voice rang loudly, and we all watched as a large leather book came floating through the air and landed in front of her -- open -- and its pages flying, until suddenly it stopped. The red headed witch gave a laugh of triumph. "Do with us as thee will, Good Sir, for we will back! A Virgin shall raise us from the dead, and we will suck the lives out of all the children in Salem! Just thee wait!" And with that they started singing their witch song of magic.
"Cover thee ears! Don't listen to them, they will put thee under a spell!" I covered my own ears and hastily threw my torch into the pile of wood at the witches feet and watch the fire spread. The other two men followed suit and I felt a sense of victory as the feet of the three witches caught fire. They didn't stop their spell casting until they spit in three different directions at the same time. By then, the fire had enveloped their torso's and arms, and they simultaneously let out pained screeches, and started wiggling and crying. I found myself perversely satisfied as the fire covered their faces and the screams continued for a few more minutes, until finally they stopped screaming. At this time, purple smoke rose into the air, and the smell of burning flesh filled the village.
There was silence, expect for the crackling and popping of the wood and carcasses. Then everyone cheered. 'The witches are dead! The witches are dead! Hurray!' everyone shouted. We were free from their evil, but we were not unscarred. From then on, we were weary of strangers; scared even. But as a town we grew closer, and everyone was family, and we all protected one another.
We left the bodies of the Sanderson sisters there for three days, and three nights, as a reminder of what everyone has been through, and what we no longer had to suffer. It was a new we made, every year on this night, we bound straw together to resemble scare crows, and burned them in the center of town, to remind us.
In one night, I lost my only daughter to evil. A few nights later, my first son followed. I sat at his bedside after burning the witches, and held his hand. Every night his hand grew colder, and harder, and every night my heart was torn further. His skin was as white as snow. He never cried out in his agony, but we all knew he suffered so. He would squirm and wriggle, toss and turn, and his back would arch off the bed, the veins in his neck sticking out in effort to contain his screams. On the third day, he had stopped moving, only twitching every now and again. His skin was cold as winter, and his skin was as hard as rock. I knew in my heart that the end was not far behind, so I let out everything in me. I wept as I held his head in my lap, his hand to my heart. His mother came in and laid next to him, stroking his copper hair, and crying into his shoulder. Nathanial sat by his feet, his white face streaked with tears, and shadows prominent under his eyes. No one in this house had gotten any sleep, no one even tried.
By the time the sun started to go town, it seemed to entire town was stuffed in that room, solemn looks on every face, not a dry eye in the room.
Then, his heart picked up speed tremendously, and he started to fight for breath. His mother wailed, "Edward, oh please, thee must fight! Thee mustn't let them win! Fight son!" She pounded on his chest weakly, and sobbed. But it was no use.
After a minute, his heart started to slow down to a crawl. Each beat further apart than the last, until finally, it gave one last pitiful thump, and Edward expelled one last gust of breath, and all was over. My son, my first born, my pride, stolen from me! I let me head fall back and gave a loud agonizing scream to the heavens. Why God? Why let him be taken from me? Was this punishment? Why? I hadn't realized I had voiced these questions aloud until the priest laid his hand on my shoulder.
"This is not punishment, my son, but a blessing. He's been suffering from the Witches spell for three days now Edward, and God could bare to see him suffer any longer. He has taken Edwards soul with him into the Heavens, where he and precious Emily can be together, out of reach of the evils of this world," the Father said, his voice soothing, and somewhere in the depths of me I could feel the truth of it. At least my son suffered no longer. "You're son was a protector, Edward, now let him watch over you and your family, and the rest of Salem as well, like he was meant to do."
We buried my son and my daughter at the same time, side by side. The whole Village attended, and a great marker was set in place for Edward. He was viewed as a hero to the village, for giving up his life to try and save his sisters, and though he did not succeed, and saved the lives of all the other children of the village from the evil and vain witch sisters. On the marker of his grave was written 'May he guard, protect, and watch over us all'.
When I went to visit my children's grave the next day, I found his grave collapsed. On top of the sunken grave was Edwards favorite item, his viola and a rose. I fell to my knees and wept dry tears, for there were no more tears in my body to cry. It was a sign; God had made him an angel, and he was made to watch over us with everything I had in me, and I smiled, because I knew we were safe, and everything would be alright.