Fear had slowly been seeping its way into Katrina's veins since the labour pains had first begun. Now, it shocked Katrina to her core.
Not an hour earlier, she had stumbled into Fredericks Manor, her body wracked with pain that signaled the coming of her child. She'd just escaped her coven; they were hell-bent on punishing her for putting an enchantment on her husband. Katrina had admitted, she hadn't been thinking all that clearly when she'd enlisted in Father Knapp's help with the spell and she was desperate to save Ichabod. In all honesty, Katrina had solved two problems with one solution; the spell had preserved her husband and done away with the Horseman of Death. For now.
Now. Katrina had to focus on now.
"Now!" Grace yelled, gently securing Katrina's feet as she pushed with all her might to force her baby into this world.
This world that was filled with evil. Evil knocking about the house, clawing at the windows, banging at the doors…
Katrina screamed, nearly drowning out the caws of the crows from outside, bracing herself on the two remaining housemaids as they held her arms in place. Katrina felt as if she were being ripped apart from the inside out. Sweat drenched her body, soaking through her gown and into the sheets as her tense body began to relax. Exhaustion threatened to claim her if Grace Dixon demanded that she push again.
And then she heard it; a tiny cry, almost inaudible over the demonic racket that was being caused outside.
"It's a girl." Grace said, tearing up as she wiped the babe clean and gently handed her to her mother.
Katrina cradled her in her arms, stroking her face softly as she looked deeply into the girl's eyes. The pain was ebbing now. Katrina kissed her forehead, murmuring softly, "Johanna."
At once, there was a sharp cracking noise from the main floor of the house, followed by a sickening gurgle. Katrina could feel it as the hex lifted from the manor. What had once been a place of protection, a sanctuary, was now a hunting ground for the devil himself.
Katrina clutched Johanna tightly to her breast. She uttered a tiny cry as an unearthly growl shuddered throughout the entire house, shaking the floorboards and the walls.
Grace had taken a candelabrum and the two women were tugging her to her feet. One of the maids was forcing her into her shoes and dressing gown while the other secured the door to her room. With her arm tightly around Katrina for support, the maid tore a simple ribbon from her own neck and shoved it into Katrina's pocket. "For strength." She said simply, "It will get you out."
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
Katrina could hear from the cellar as the creature broke through the door upstairs and tore through the two maids. They'd sacrificed themselves to help see Katrina and her newborn daughter to safety. Katrina wanted to offer up a prayer for them, but there was no time. Grace was beckoning her from outside of the tunnels, into the moonlight. Prayers would have to wait.
"This way." Grace said as she held the secret door open for mother and child, ushering them into the night.
A familiar face was waiting for the two as they set foot upon the dirt.
Father Knapp, eyes wide, held the door open to a carriage that was black as night. Grace helped Katrina into the carriage, taking Johanna from her for a brief moment before securing the door. Father Knapp wasted no time, climbing atop the carriage almost immediately and taking off from Fredericks Manor.
A howl ripped through the night as the carriage left the grounds. Katrina took the silk ribbon from her pocket and placed it into Johanna's tiny little fist as she began to cry.
They were safe from the creature and its hellions. For now.
"So, are you dating my dad?"
Jenny Mills looked up from her work, giving the blunt, wheelchair bound girl a raised eyebrow. This wasn't the kind of question Jenny was used to, let alone the work she was used to. She was used to getting her hands dirty, sure, but dirty usually mean elbow deep in some kind of gore, not flour. Jenny dusted her hands off into the bowl of dough, "For the thousandth time, no, Macey. I'm not dating your dad."
"Uh huh." Macey said with a smirk as she continued to stir the bowl of homemade pumpkin pie filling on her lap. The doorbell rang. Macey wheeled over to the doorway of the kitchen and looked through to the front door. Her father waved awkwardly from outside. "It's Dad."
Jenny rolled her eyes at the 'knowing' look that the young girl gave her. She flicked a bit of the dough at Macey as she called, "It's open!" Macey squealed, nearly dropping the bowl in the process of avoiding it. Captain Irving managed to save the bowl just as he walked through the door to the kitchen. "Nice one, Captain." Jenny said with a smile as she carefully dumped the dough onto the counter and began kneading it.
The Captain laughed awkwardly, "It's just 'Frank' tonight."
"Okay, Frank." Macey teased sarcastically, smacking her father out of the way to put the bowl onto the counter.
"Watch it, Missy." Frank said fondly, picking the specks of dough from his daughter's hair as she rolled past. Frank crossed his arms, leaning up against the doorjamb as he watched Jenny mixing what he assumed to be stuffing with all seriousness. It was absurd. Completely absurd. He couldn't help the almost involuntary laugh that escaped his mouth.
"What?" Jenny snapped, all at once back to the no-nonsense warrior that had confidently strolled into the police station a few weeks earlier. Frank simply shook his head, not-so-subtly covering his mouth. She rolled her eyes again, taking the whisks from the mixer and rinsing them in the sink. Jenny shook them dry before plugging them back into the mixer and handing them to Frank's daughter. "Here, mix the last of that up."
Jenny led Frank into the living room of Abbie's house that they now shared. Pictures of Sheriff Corbin and Abbie; her graduation, the two of them eating pie together, a rare photo of everyone on the force…
Once they were out of Macey's hearing range and the mixer powered on, Jenny began. "I am trying to have a nice Thanksgiving dinner, here."
"I understand that." Frank said, wiping the smile from his face.
"Where the hell is my sister? She and Ichabod were supposed to be here an hour ago." Jenny continued in a stage-whisper, "I wouldn't worry so much, without the whole apocalypse-thing, but they were bringing the wine!"
"Look 'apocalypse-thing aside,'" Frank made air quotes around the words, "Ichabod and your sister are pretty good at getting themselves into trouble."
Jenny wasted no time, going straight past Frank and for the door, "But they're also very good at getting themselves out of it." He reassured her, "They're supposed to be following up on a lead, anyhow. Let's get you back to cooking so they can have a nice dinner when they decide to grace us with their presence." Frank went back into the kitchen, where Macey was struggling to hold onto the mixer and bowl at the same time. "Before Macey—"
The bowl went flying, sending spiced, pumpkin flavored gobs flying every which way. The mixer was still spinning, splattering more of the mixture on the cabinets, walls, and unfortunately Frank. He sighed, raising an eyebrow at his daughter, who was doing her best impression of innocence. "Too late."
It was the smacking of bubblegum that gave her away. "Ohmigod! Jo, I haven't seen you in forever!" Hadley ran to Johanna in her tiny little stilettos and practically tackled her to the ground.
The sickly sweet scent of the witch's gum filled her nostrils as she pulled away; Johanna gagged and forced a smile, "Forever hasn't been long enough."
Johanna had called on Hadley, one of the few witches that she socialized with on a regular occasion, when she'd decided to do the reanimation spell. Hadley was a century and a half old witch that was stuck in a teenager's body. She'd reached The Transcendence early and left the Tribe of Ankou soon after, in 1862.
And oh, did she play the part well. Somehow, Hadley had stuffed her blooming body into skintight jeans, a tiny, red halter top, and black patent Louboutins. With the shoes, she was a few inches taller than Johanna. Dear God. Hadley squeezed Johanna tighter before letting her go. "So? Resurrection, right?" She asked excitedly, hopping up and down, her shadow bouncing around on the asphalt in the light of the full moon.
"Reanimation." Jo corrected, resisting the urge to cringe as she led Hadley into the tunnels. Jenny had helped her drag the body down into what she called the 'interrogation room' earlier that day, muttering something not being able to help because of Turkey Day. Johanna hated holidays. They served as a reminder of how alone she was.
Johanna held the final door open for Hadley. She stepped past daintily, biting her lip as she surveyed the elaborately designed room. If she'd been a professional exorcist, she'd have thought she'd died and gone to Heaven. But then again, in Johanna's knowledge, most exorcists didn't end up in Heaven. The corpse was secured with leather belts to a wooden table. The smell of rot had already filled the room.
Hadley approached the body, examining the gunshot wound from this angle and that. She plugged her nose like a debutant and pulled a tiny bottle of some sort of perfume from her pocket and spritzed some over the body. Typical Hadley. She continued about the circular room, every so often spraying perfume until she was satisfied that the smell was gone. "So, what first?"
Johanna held a hand up, eyes watering from the smell. She could feel a sneeze coming on. Jo breathed through her mouth. There. It was gone. She cleared her throat, "I was just going to do a basic reanimation spell; temporary, of course."
Hadley scoffed, "Basic?" She crossed her arms, giving her best impression of a moody teenager, "Has the fact that your corpse, here, has a gigantic hole in his head slipped your mind?" She took the pink gum from her mouth and stuck it on the stone wall of the room.
Jo raised an eyebrow, "That's why I waited until the full moon. And gigantic isn't the word that I would use—"
"Most of his brains are missing, Jo!" Hadley took a cigarette from her pocket. She stared at it for a moment, her eyes blazed orange, and the cigarette was lit in an instant. Hadley blew lightly on the tip before taking a long drag. "When you said you needed help, I thought you were being modest."
"If you aren't gonna help, piss off." Johanna snatched the cigarette from Hadley's mouth, threw it to the ground, and stomped it out.
"Oooh, we're extra bitchy tonight, aren't we?" Hadley tutted, pushing Johanna out of the way and putting her hands onto the corpse's throat to begin the spell.
This kind of thing was Hadley's specialty, lucky for Johanna.
Hadley began humming low, shutting her eyes as Johanna stood at the corpse's head, putting her hands on either side of its skull. Johanna gritted her teeth as her fingers met something sticky and cold. Ugh. Brains. Jo could feel the power draining from her as the spell went on. Moments seemed like hours as Hadley reached out through the netherworlds to contact whatever creature had inhabited the body before them.
Suddenly, Hadley's eyes flew open. They weren't the usual deep brown color that Johanna was used to; they were bright white, clouded with grey. "Your friend, here, is in purgatory."
"Everyone and their bloody dogs are in purgatory." Johanna muttered.
Hadley tightened her grip as if she were choking the corpse. The body began to shudder as power was being forced into it, like it was being electrocuted. "Found him." Hadley said faintly. All of the color drained from Hadley as Johanna removed her hands. "Make this quick; the connection isn't very strong, thanks to that head wound." Hadley took the corpse by the jaws and forced its mouth open. Jo knew what was coming next.
Of everything she'd seen in her extremely long life. Slaughter, blood, gore, burned corpses, flayed living…this ritual was the worst. The spirit of whoever, or in this case, whatever, was being brought back had to pass through the witch that was leading the ritual.
Hadley's body began to lurch as if she were about to retch. She lowered her face over the doppelganger's and opened her mouth. Black smoke began pouring out, falling into the doppelganger's mouth unceremoniously in great tendrils. It stained the creature's teeth as Hadley pulled away and the last bits of the smoke found its way into the doppelganger. As suddenly as it began, the shuddering stopped.
Hadley wiped her mouth, eyes fading back to their normal color as the spell subsided. She took another stick of gum from her pocket and stuffed it into her mouth. She resumed smacking before she spoke, "It didn't take."
"Didn't take?" Johanna had only seen this done twice before.
Before the words were even out of Jo's mouth, Hadley was pounding on the chest of the corpse with her fists. It was like watching a demented person perform CPR.
A long, ragged, gasping breath silenced both witches. The eyes of the corpse slowly opened. One eye was completely filled with blood, blocking out the iris, while the other was clear. After some delayed blinking, they turned to focus on Johanna. "Yoooooouuuuu." The corpse rasped breathlessly.
The downside of not completely resurrecting the creature was that it wasn't alive. And non-living creatures did not breathe.
It gasped for breath again, a horrible, wet sound. "Puuuuuutttttt meeeeeeee baaaaaaaaccckkk."
"I have no sympathy for the devil." Johanna said, keeping her distance as the creature writhed in its binds. Johanna glanced at Hadley, who motioned for her to continue. "Answer my questions and we'll send you back." In response, the creature made a low, almost purring sound. "Who is Moloch?"
The corpse's lips drew upward in a smile, revealing its rotted, blackened teeth, "The Architect of the Rapture."
Hadley unwaveringly nudged Jo with her elbow, saying quietly, "He's got a flair for the dramatic, doesn't he?"
"Neeeeeeeexxxxxxxttttt quessssssssssssssstion." Another wheezing breath.
"Where is the horseman?"
"Nexxxxxt." Shorter this time, almost like it was annoyed with her.
"Where is the horseman?" Johanna repeated, louder this time.
The doppelganger began thrashing, shaking the table as it screamed, "NEXT QUESTION!"
The silence that came next was so clear that you could have heard a pin drop.
Johanna took a breath, "Why did it kill my father?"
Laughter bubbled up from its chest, turning to a disgusting gurgle as it ended. "It did not kill your faaaaather." The creature spat.
In anger, Johanna rushed forward, seizing the creature by the neck, "Tell me why!" She screamed as Hadley clawed at her shoulders, trying to pull her away.
"Jo, stop!"
"Your father is not dead."
Hadley forced her away, holding her fast in a tight grip so that she could not get away. "Father Knapp is dead!"
"Dead! Ha! But he was not your faaaaather." It hissed again, ending in the death gurgle again. "Your faaaaaather and your moooooooother!" The corpse laughed harshly as tremors began to wrack its body again.
Johanna broke out of Hadley's grip just in time as the creature faded away. Johanna turned on Hadley, "Bring it back!"
Hadley pushed her back, "I told you before we started this; the connection was bad. I can't do it again."
The new knowledge was eating away at her as she stared at the chain covered wall. Johanna's hands were in her hair, clutching at the roots; she almost wanted to pull it out.
It wasn't possible. It simply wasn't.
"I saw Katrina giving birth."
As Abbie spoke, the emotion died in both Ichabod's face and his heart. It felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. This was worse than dying; this knowledge. He couldn't help himself from speaking his next words, "What did you say?"
"Downstairs," Abbie took a breath hesitantly, "I had a vision. I saw what happened here." Ichabod's lips parted in disbelief as she continued, "Katrina came back here because she was going to have a baby."
He took a small breath, "No." Ichabod shook his head as the doubt crawled through his mind like sludge, "No. I'm sorry. You must be mistaken." His thoughts went to his sweet loving wife. The same wife that had lied to him about her power… "She would've told me."
Something akin to pity was all over Abbie's features, "Well, she needed to keep it secret."
That conversation played over and over in his mind as he maddeningly chopped away at the roots of the demonic tree creature. It had terrorized his family. HIS FAMILY. Ichabod swung the axe again, kicking the smoldering flare on the ground. Blood spurted up from the roots as he pulled away the axe. A great, gushing flow that covered his clothing, his face. But Ichabod didn't care.
"You think that you can attack those I love without consequence?" Ichabod yelled, enraged as he pushed at the creature before him, dodging swipe after swipe from its ragged limbs. He swung the axe again, "That you can come for my wife? My child?" He yelled in anger over the creature's roars.
The creature was right in front of him now. In pain. In anger. The same as he.
"Give Moloch my regards." Ichabod rammed the axe right into the demon's face.
He stood there blinking and gasping for breath as the creature fell. It was almost as if he was breathing for the first time.
As he came toward the car, Abbie said something, but Ichabod wasn't paying her attention. He said simply, "I should like to go home now."
And home they went.
Abbie had worked about cleaning his clothes while Ichabod cleaned himself at Sheriff Corbin's cabin. He still had difficulty thinking that the cabin was his own. Abbie successfully cleaned his clothing, as he'd opted out of wearing anything of Sheriff Corbin's, and he was lacing up his boots again when she spoke. "I'm sorry that Katrina didn't tell you about your daughter."
He secured the tie of his boot, "I am certain that she had good reason."
"How about some cheering up, huh?" Abbie said, holding out his coat in one hand and a bottle of his favorite rum in the other.
That brought a smile to his face. True friendship. "You know me too well, Abbie." He got to his feet and reached for the bottle.
"Ah ah." Abbie stepped out of his reach, "You only get to drink this if you come to Thanksgiving."
"Regretfully, I am not in the mood to celebrate. Especially without my family."
Abbie smiled sadly, "Family doesn't always mean blood." Then her smile turned mischievous. Never a good thing, in Ichabod's experience. "I don't blame you anyways; Jenny did the cooking."
"Miss Jenny will be there?" He smiled at the thought of his fellow revolutionary.
"And Captain Irving and his daughter, Macey; she made the pumpkin pie."
"Well then." He took his coat from Abbie and snatched up the bottle of rum just as they stepped out the door, "I suppose attendance is mandatory."
Whoo! Longest chapter yet! *celebratory dance*