Apologies for the wait.
"Blah blah blah." Johanna said as the trio travelled down the stairs to the holding cell-slash-makeshift-crime-scene, "All the baddies have been singing the same song for years and it hasn't happened yet."
"Yet." Abbie chimed in.
"Pessimist." Johanna said, not bothering to hold onto the door as it almost slammed on Abbie, who was able to catch it just in time.
Gerry Mason, a ginger haired young man was sprawled on the floor, neck broken. Technically, if one were to look at the footage on record, it would appear that Gerry Mason had killed himself, which technically he had. But then again, it hadn't really been him, just someone who looked exactly like poor Gerry. His neck was at an odd angle from the break; the bones were nearly jutting out through the skin at the front of his neck. The cell had been opened and there were a few blue suited forensic scientists taking samples and examining the body as Ichabod, Abbie, and Johanna entered the holding room.
"Can we clear the room, Lieutenant? There may be a few sensitive pieces of evidence." Ichabod suggested as he held the cell door further for Abbie and Johanna.
Abbie looked around, waiting for the workers to respond. They all looked to her, as if to wonder who really had the authority. "You heard the man. Clear the room!" The Captain had followed them down to the crime scene. The forensic investigators all scrambled to their feet and out of the room, edging past Captain Irving as he watched on seriously until the room was free.
Abbie tossed sets of gloves to Irving, Johanna, and Crane before putting on a set, herself, and getting to work. Johanna struggled with hers, muttering something about 'going commando' before Abbie blew into a pair of gloves for her and shoved them at her. Johanna smiled, "Oh, we're gonna get on great, you and me." She knelt down beside the body, examining the neck carefully. Johanna ran her hand lightly down the center of his neck; there was something there besides the bone. "I'm not being funny, but there's something wrong with his neck."
"Of course there is; it's broken." Irving said, almost in passing.
Abbie rolled her eyes, looking to Johanna, "Rock-paper-scissors for who gets to stick their hand down Gerry's throat."
Johanna wrinkled her nose, "Best two out of three."
Before the women had finished the first round, Ichabod had propped the victim's head up and was struggling to pull something out of his throat.
When it finally came free with an awful squishing sound, it was revealed to be a silver pendant secured by a leather tassel. Pentagrams and other symbols were etched into the silver, and inset into the center was a single red ruby. There were tiny scores of blood across the silver; a few drops fell to the floor as Ichabod got to his feet. "Oh dear."
"What is it?" Abbie asked as everyone peered at the pendant.
Ichabod spoke softly, "It's the symbol for Katrina's coven; The Sisterhood of the Radiant Heart."
"Katrina?" Johanna didn't recognize the name.
"My wife." Ichabod said simply, "We must go to Mr. Mason's residence."
"Katrina was your wife?" Johanna asked curiously as she and Ichabod watched Abbie peel away the crime scene tape and set about opening the door a while later.
"Yes." Ichabod said without missing a beat, "She was my wife."
"And how did that work out?" At the strange look, Johanna clarified, "With her being a witch and all."
"I didn't know." Johanna could see the sadness in his eyes as he said those three simple words.
The door opened to reveal a quaint little home. It looked completely normal, save the massive bloodstains on the carpet and streaks of dried blood on the walls. There were overused couches populating the living room, a tiny breakfast table in the kitchen, and even a few bits of mail scattered around on the counter. The picture of normality. Almost.
Abbie shut the door behind them and clicked on the lights. "Okay, so what are we looking for?"
"Dead chickens, gris gris, severed heads…you know, the usual." Johanna said with a wink as she disappeared into the hallway.
"Anything out of the ordinary should suffice." Ichabod said, slightly amused as he began to thumb through the small bookshelf in the living room.
Abbie went into the bathroom, looking through the mirrored cabinet at the medicines and other items. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Suddenly, there was the loud noise of footfalls on the beat-up hardwood floor.
Abbie darted out of the bathroom just in time to watch Johanna go flying across the room, via Gerry Mason. Or rather, Gerry Mason's doppelganger. Johanna smashed into the breakfast table, sending things flying every which way; it collapsed beneath her. Abbie drew her gun, daringly looking the creature right in the eye.
CRACK.
Ichabod had hit the creature across the head with a baseball bat. The blow didn't even phase the creature. It turned around to face Ichabod and threw him into the bookcase with an unholy roar. Books and pages went flying everywhere as Ichabod smashed into the case. Out of the corner of her eye, Abbie could see Johanna struggling to get to her feet. There was a massive amount of blood running down Johanna's face from where her head had connected with the wall. Ichabod was struggling as well; their respective impacts had knocked them senseless.
There was something about the creature's eyes. Something beneath them was beautiful, bright, hypnotic…
Seconds, minutes, hours, years seemed to pass…
Breathing suddenly seemed trivial.
"Abbie!" The call of her name ripped her from her mesmerized state.
Jenny was here. How did Jenny get here?
Blood splattered Abbie's face as a bullet tore through the doppelganger's head.
Only when Jenny was helping Abbie to her feet, did Abbie realize that the doppelganger had been choking the life out of her. As she struggled to catch her breath, Abbie notice Ichabod rushing to their side. Johanna set up the only surviving chair and was now lounging in it, still covered in blood.
"Are you alright, Ms. Danvers?" Ichabod asked, once he'd made sure that Jenny had ahold of Abbie.
"Quite." She gave him a sarcastic salute, "And it's Johanna, or Jo, if you like."
At this, Jenny's concern for her sister seemed to fade as she looked to Johanna. "You."
"Me?" Johanna frowned confused as Jenny came toward her; not that the head wound was helping.
"You!" Jenny repeated, proceeding to punch Johanna solidly in the face. She took the witch by the lapels of her jacket, "You stole my grimoire!"
Although her nose was bleeding like no other, her head was pounding, and she was exhausted, Johanna managed to work in some cheek. "I've stolen a lot of things from a lot of people. Jenny, is it?" Johanna smiled, "You're gonna have to be a bit more specific."
Ichabod and Abbie were trying to pry the two apart, but Jenny wasn't having any of it. "Kiev, Ukraine, 2006."
Johanna began to laugh, "Oh, was that you?" She laughed again, "I'm gonna let you in on a little secret, love. You can't steal what was yours in the first place." Johanna succeeded in shoving Jenny roughly away from her. Abbie, however rattled she was, didn't show it as she wrapped her arms around her sister to keep her from attacking Johanna.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Jenny snarled angrily, pushing her sister off of her.
"It's in the past. Let's talk about now. Hm?" Johanna crossed her arms, "Why'd you shoot him in the head? We need to question him."
"He was killing my sister! What was I supposed to do?" Jenny put away her gun, "And so what if I'd shot him in the chest?" She shrugged, "He'd still be just as dead."
"True. But he'd be much easier to communicate with." Johanna hopped off of the chair and pushed her broken nose back into place as it healed.
She was wiping the blood from her forehead as Ichabod realized, "You're going to summon him."
"No." Johanna smiled, "I'm going to raise the dead."
"You're going to resurrect him?" Abbie said incredulously as she put her own gun away, keeping one eye on her sister. "Didn't you say earlier that you weren't as powerful without a coven?"
Johanna straightened her clothes and walked outside. The others followed in suit as she looked up at the sky. The moon was half obscured in the starless night sky. "I'll just have to draw on something more powerful then, won't I?"
1782
Birth. Life. Death. The lifelines that had been running together for all of time had converged on one moment.
This moment.
Katrina Crane had to abandon her only child.
As she held little Johanna in her arms for what would be the final time, soft, silent tears fell from her face as she stroked Johanna. The child of two months clutched at her mother's hand with a frightening grip. Johanna's little mind couldn't comprehend what was about to happen, but somehow, she knew. She knew that her world was to forever change. "I know that you do not understand what is about to happen. For years to come, you will not understand." Katrina placed a tender kiss on her daughter's forehead, "But know this. You are loved."
"Mrs. Crane." Reverend Knapp beckoned, "It's time."
Knapp was a sweet man and the only one in the coven that she could presently trust. Katrina reluctantly gave the child to Knapp; Johanna started to whimper. Katrina couldn't stop the involuntary whisper of "no" that escaped her lips. She couldn't comfort her child. It was her job, her purpose, to be a mother. But it could not be.
Soft, warm light illuminated the altar as Reverend Knapp put Johanna onto the cold stone. Almost at once, Johanna began to cry. It was as if she knew what was about to happen. Knapp was about to sever the connection between mother and child.
It had to be done to protect the child. Katrina's own life meant nothing. Nothing in comparison to Johanna's. Johanna was the last piece of Ichabod that was left until her would rise again. It was her duty as a witch and as a mother to protect this child with her life. Even if it meant cutting the child from it.
As Reverend Knapp began the chant, Johanna's cries turned to screams. Screams of pain and fear and sadness. Screams of yearning and a hollow heart.
Katrina could see the moonless night sky as the lunar eclipse was at its most powerful. She focused on the tiny, twinkling stars, trying to ignore Johanna's screams as the spell reached the height of its power. The candles that had cast their light on the church began to extinguish one by one until they were in total darkness, save the stars. Katrina could feel the tearing in her own heart as a piece was suddenly gone. She would forever feel empty.
The spell waned with Johanna's cries. Silent tears continued to trail down Katrina's face. Reverend Knapp took Katrina's daughter in his arms and said, "She will have a good home; a gentle home away from this madness."
"I trust that she will be well looked after, Reverend." Katrina said before turning away and never looking back.
As soon as Katrina was outside of the church, her tears stopped. She knew that if she hadn't stopped crying then, she never would. Katrina continued her walk, cutting through the woods to pass over her husband's grave for what would be the final time. "She is safe, my love."
Weeks later, Katrina couldn't help but go to the Reverend for news of her daughter. The severed connection would keep her daughter hidden from the coven, but Katrina had to know of her life. She couldn't simply forget her daughter.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Crane. I made you a promise and I intend to keep it." Reverend Knapp said as he began lighting one of the candelabras. "I will do what is best for the girl." He said solemnly, lighting the last candle.
Katrina followed Knapp to the altar as he knelt to pray. She pleaded but Knapp ignored her, "Please. I need to know that she is—"
BANG.
The doors to the sanctuary flew open and an unholy gust of wind went blowing through the room, extinguishing all of the candles that had been lit. From the darkness of the night came The Sisters of the Radiant Heart. Their flowing black and red robes, shown by their rank within the coven, obscured their faces and dresses as they entered the sanctuary.
"Katrina Crane." The whispers came from all around as the Sisters circled her. Knapp remained at the altar in prayer. "You are our sister no more."
Katrina felt the blood drain from her face as the witches seized her roughly by her arms. She yelled, "Reverend! Reverend help me!" The Sisters dragged her from the church as she kicked and shoved at their cloaked forms. "Please!"
"I am doing what is best for her." The Reverend whispered, eyes still shut to the chaos that was befalling Katrina. The closing of the doors echoed throughout the church and the flames were lit once again. "I am doing what is best."
As soon as her feet hit the ground outside of the church gates, Katrina began gathering her power. She could feel it sparking through her body and the anger and rage rolled through her like wildfire. One witch, Sister Cassandra, was carrying a bloody blanket with a silent form encased inside. Near the fringe of the blanket were the letters JC.
Katrina screamed. She could feel the Sisters tearing at her arms as she fought to get away and run to the blanket. Her daughter. Her little girl was dead.
Flames licked from her fingertips, enveloping one of the Sisters completely before the others even realized what was happening. They will all burn. One by one, blue flames appeared beneath each of the Sister's feet. Their screams were like music to Katrina's ears.
Her husband had been taken from her.
Her child had been taken from her.
All she wanted was revenge.
"Stop." Smoke was billowing out from the dirt road as four veiled figures approached.
Blood was running from her nose as Katrina ignored the command, crawling toward the bloody blanket. "Katrina Crane you will-"
Four white faces surrounded her as she was pinned to the ground by their magic, "-burn as you burned-"
"-your sisters forever trapped-" The Four Who Speak As One.
"-in purgatory." They all smiled an evil smile, with their sharp, demonic teeth. The smoke continued to envelop them, obscuring Katrina's vision entirely.
When she could finally see again, Katrina's hands were secured behind her back. She was tied to an upturned piece of wood a few feet above the ground. Tinder brushed at her feet as she struggled to see around her. Katrina could hear the soft crackle as flames licked at the sides of the pyre. Smoke began to roll up in waves, making her eyes water. It definitely wasn't tears. She didn't have any left.
In the end, Katrina welcomed death.
Death would give her time.
And time would allow her victory.
Thanks to everyone who's stuck with me so far on this wild ride. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter.