They say that sometimes it has to be painful. That you have to go through the darkness to find the light. Eternal Chaos creates eternal harmony. You can't appreciate the good until the bad has taken from you.
3rd person POV:
"Don't... no... Don't do this please." Her tears streak down her face as she continues to scoot herself up against the wall. When she's reached it, however, it's a dead end.
Tara Jones has no where to run.
The rain pours outside and the lights all beck and flicker. She's looking up at her attacker. Here, on this night, her life is in the sharp glisten of the ax head he's holding. Here, on the second floor of the house and at the very end of the corridor her moment has come.
Blood is splattered on the wall to her left. Fingernails dig into the carpet. She's weeping.
He's reached the top of the stairs. There's a glimmer in his smile. He looks down upon the place where her ankle barely hangs off of her shin. A foot, dying from lack of blood flow as it's been dragged along the stretch since he'd first attacked her in the kitchen downstairs.
It's late. She's tired. Perhaps... with him nearing in on her... this is where it ends for Tara.
Seven hours earlier...
Tori Spring shuffles along the shag rug carpet in her socks. There's a cup full of fresh water in her hands. She's clean from the working shower upstairs.
"Tori, come off it. You've got to play. It's been such a stressful week." Says Issac.
The four of them are already down on the floor; Issac setting up the cards, Tara biting into a stale pretzel stick, and the two boys Tori remembers not so fondly tormenting Charlie (her younger brother) for the last three years sipping wine from souvenir cups and passing a roll-up full of freshly ground cannabis around the table.
They clink there cups like they're kings in medieval times. Tara says something snarky about the guy who brought them here who's retired upstairs for some much needed sleep making everyone but Tori laugh. All Tori can think about are all the people back at the camp-site with very little while they're here acting like it's a vacation.
"I'd rather not." She says.
Issac looks up at her fondly, "I am one of your brothers best friends... I know him almost as much as you do. I know you're worried but if he is out there you're not going to find him by pretending you're not still alive. Get down here."
She rolls her eyes but does so. She's on the floor next to him, her sweater hanging over her thighs and the leggings she's got on are also made of a soft material. It's comfortable. Then so, she lets them deal her in.
A few rounds in, after bulbous laughter from the rest of them over silly profanities or unfortunate banter circulating around perversions, inappropriate commentary, things no one should say in civil conversation, and the occasional laugh from her Tori ends up with nine black cards to everyone else's three or less.
She's run out of good cards and it's Harry's turn. Harry, this arrogant boy who doesn't understand his own handwriting to that of typed out and printed words. A young man who's been known the F- slur and has no respect from Tori what-so-ever drops a black card Tori barely understands and she throws out a trash card.
Flying Sex Snakes.
Was her response. It's not even something that makes sense but Harry and Ben have had enough wine to find something about it funny. Then conversation breaks out across the table as cards are slowly forgotten about.
"Did you guys notice the python upstairs in one of the rooms?" Asks Issac.
They all look at him. No, of course no one has. They're not as observant as he is.
"So... this house was apparently home to a coven, long ago." He begins, "It's Blymouth Manner, I'm sure at lease one of you read about it?"
"No." Says Tori.
Tara just shrugs. The boys are too cross faded to object. They'd believe anything at this point.
"Well... the gargoyles out front, the spiral staircase into the basement, and the logo just there on the wall-" He points behind Harry and Ben at the wall in the back of the room where the fire place sits in it's blaze, "All present in the Blymouth Massacre a novel written by Dutchess Chaney in 1928."
"Witchcraft back then was hardly spoken about but it was everywhere. This was during the invention of jaw breakers, cotton candy, and ice cream that tasted like mint. Things common to us but peculiar at that time. Have you ever read the ingredients on those things?"
"Yeah." Says Ben, "But they never make any sense. Like I don't know the first four so how could I know the fifth red dye number five?"
"Exactly." Continues Issac, "These were things silly little witches conjured up in their coldrons to make extra pocket money at the time and they became competitive. Who could make the most peculiar things without being spotted as a witch? Well, then government got curious. How are people advancing so fast?"
"Patents for things started becoming for sale. The long and complicated ways to make these things were written out in documentation to hide the truth. It's magic, all of it. Of course, the men in suits weren't buying it. They still had their suspicions."
"So wait a minute..." Interrupts Tara, "The men in suits existed back then."
He nods, "Only it's not like men in black. They're dark people who want money, power, and control. They've always believed in the stuff it's just that they didn't want everyday people having access to it. Sacrifice must be made for power. The witches knew it. So did the government."
"This is where the war began. The witches who'd been in competition just months earlier moved in here together. One of the first covens of modern times here in the U.K. A safe haven, for magic folk. Any witch who was spotted being successful was quickly enrolled and studied under her; Nylea Swanson. She was the supreme at that time."
"The men in suits were sacrificing innocent children to keep the elites young and powerful while Nylea and her coven were going out on missions to retrieve these children. There are many different Gods out there to worship who listen. The men in suits, their masters, worship an ancient evil deity full of vile energy and hopelessness. The coven worship the moon goddess, fertility, love, and change. They grew with the seasons as did their powers."
"Then one day the men in suits did a full blown attack. They came in here and slaughtered one hundred and one witches. Only three made it out alive and it's because of the python. The serpent is a symbol in both of their worship. For the men in suits, that religion, it's centered around lust, poor decisions, and selfishness. For the women of the coven the snake symbolizes woman hood, or any minority. Those who are stripped of their voices, their power, forced to serve on their bellies for all eternity, lay eggs, and known for the venom in their fangs when they bite. Often having their heads chopped off as punishment."
"The python upstairs might not be the same one in the story but there's speculation on what actually happened that day. Some say their giant monster killed all the people in the house and those three sixteen year old girls made it out by pure dumb luck. Others say it was enchanted to go that way. The war of the sky, the cosmos, Neptune versus mars and the moon was on our side. Had the entire coven been wiped out the men in suits would have erased all magic from everything down to our silly little stories we read about in books. It's said the serpent had a choice. Either it could fight for the sacrifices made to it or it could fight for the one's who took care of it when most beings on two legs despise it, cast it aside as a demon, and mock it. My moneys on the second theory."
The overhead light flashes on and it's like the party stops.
They all look up to Mr. Vines. He looks rough.
"You all should be in bed." He says, "Robyn will be here tomorrow to pick you up."
He sluggishly makes his way over to the table and reaches down to lift a bottle of wine, "Are y'all drinking?"
He laughs a little, tilts his face to look at Tori, then turns the bottle up to his lips. When he's drained the bottle he says, "You shouldn't be drinking. Most of you haven't even started UNI yet."
"Look..." He continues, "I get you've all been through a trauma. You don't have any family or friends left and me dragging you out here into the middle of nowhere doesn't feel quite fair. I can understand your need to... deescalate. However, I'm the adult here and I'm responsible for getting you to Robyn so please... off to bed."
"I'm an adult too." Says Tori.
He looks at her with sternness in his eyes. He gets a little closer and she can smell the alcohol on his breath. It's something a lot stronger than wine.
"Yeah?" He asks, "Then why didn't you stop them?"
She gives only silence. He's so much taller than her. He leers over her like the angel of death foreshadowing the night to come and she shudders because she's familiar with the entities of the veil. He's not here alone. He's not alone in his skin.
A few moments later she and Tara are in the same room together. Four beds reside in here. It would have been a girls shared dormitory back in the day. Today it's only them. Tonight it's rather lonesome. So lonesome in fact they sit on the same small bed together.
"I don't know if I'll be able to sleep." Admits Tara.
Tori shrugs, "We can only hope morning comes quickly."
Then she's pulling down the quilts and and the two of them slip in beside one another in their sleeper wear and face one another. Tori's never been this close to Tara. The two of them rarely speak despite Tara coming 'round the house all the time to see Charlie.
Being this close. Feeling so hopeless. Tori feels something new for this friend of Charlie's. She feels like she has a sister. Sweetly, eventually, sleep does take them.
They're awoken by a scream.
Out into the hallway in a flash. Mr. Vines is already up before them and stands out in the hallway on full alert. His eyes, however, have deep rings 'round them and there's a ruffle in his hair that wasn't made by a pillow. Issac comes out into the hallway last.
The four of them stand outside the room Harry is sharing with Ben. Mr. Vines peers into the room. There's a flash of light brought in from the hallway that illuminates the fast paced and intense scene.
"HELP!" Screams Ben, "It's killing him!"
They all enter the room together and turn on the lights to find the eighteen feet python wrapped around Harry's body. It's constricting a little more with each breath. It's got it's fangs in Harry's right arm.
Harry looks directly at Tori, "I'm fine. He's just playing."
"He's delusional from the venom." Says Mr. Vines.
Tori shakes her head, "This type of Python isn't poisonous."
"Harry it's killing you." Whimpers Ben.
Harry turns his head sharply causing the serpent to tighten and push organs out of place somewhere in his stomach. He grunts out, "Why do you sound so frightened? We're lads, we can handle a little snake."
"I can't handle it if you die." Says Ben.
Harry's face eases, "We're lads... we're strong, Ben. I'm strong enough to survive this."
He continues, "You're strong enough to survive if I don't."
Only it comes out as more of a question. Ben doesn't know how to respond. He's shaking. He's as close as he can get to Harry while everyone else stays back out of fear. Ben's not ready to just let this serpent kill Harry.
"I don't know what I'm feeling alright!" Shouts Ben, "You could die! I'm allowed to be stressed out!"
"I'm the one with a -" deep gasp, "bloody sneak wrapped around my stomach!"
Tori only just now notices both boys are only wearing their boxers. Only one out of the four beds have been turned down. One plus one equals two.
"We need alcohol." Says Tori.
Tara swats her arm, "Now is not the time."
"Rubbing alcohol." Tori rolls her eyes, "Put it around the serpents mouth and it'll irritate it enough to let go. Then we can work together to pull the snake off him."
"The snake needs to die." Says Mr. Vines, "I'll go get the ax."
He doesn't even wait for objections. He merely leaves the room.
They all look to Tori. It's a feeling she's not used to. Being a leader doesn't taste right.
"No." She says, "We're not killing this snake. It represents something so much more than us. Issac!" She turns to the boy still leering in the doorway, "Find me some rubbing alcohol. Their should be some in the supplies I've stashed in my room."
He's off without another question and back in a flash. She's working the lid open and walking over to the bed. There's a little anxious hesitancy within her but she dumps the contents around the area where the teeth sink into the forearm.
The snake unleashes it's self and it's head slithers up to look at Ben. It hisses harshly. Then Tori's wrapping her hands around it's throat. The jaw hangs wide open and they all listen as Harry takes a deep breath.
"Help me!" She blurts out.
Tara and Ben approach and each of them grip a separate part of the snakes body to unravel it from Harry's body. They then follow Tori out into the hallway, across the room, and into the room where the snake lives. They reach the tank and ease it inside, down on the hay.
"Now, when I let go I'm going to jerk my hands back. It might jump up at me, when that happens I need you to to close the lid." She says.
Slowly, carefully, they return it to it's habitat. Tara lets go first, then Ben. Then, with a deep breath Tori presses the snakes head into the water bowl in an effort to disorient it. She then slides her hands out quickly and the roof is latched just in time for the python's head to slam into it. They did it.
"Guys." Says Ben through the harsh breaths, "There' locks on here... someone released this snake."
There's a sound in the door way. The three of them turn to look at him. It's Mr. Vines and he's got the ax.
"No." Says Tori stepping in front of the others, "I'm not going to let you do harm to this creature."
"It hurt your friend." Says Mr. Vines.
She crosses her arm, "The person who let it out caused harm to our friend. There's only one person here who would have the code to the padlocks on this aquarium."
Looks of understanding register on Ben and Tara's faces. They all turn to look at him. A tall man with an ax in his head and one who confessed to having a mental illness is not one to be trusted.
He stumbles backwards. He's pressing against the railing of the staircase. There's a growing in his pupils and then he's speaking but it's not to any of them. He's maddening.
Ben clicks the locks into place and turns to look at Tori, "I don't feel safe here anymore."
"Neither do I." Says Tara.
Tori nods, "Then we leave."
"In a storm?" Asks Ben.
Tori shrugs, "I can eliminate the problem."
"So kill a man." Asks Tara.
She thinks for a moment. Then she holds up a finger as an idea pops into her head, "He's a schizophrenia patient who's run out of medications. Therefore he's a danger to himself and others. I could lock him up for the rest of the night and hope this Robyn girl shows up in the morning with more medicine."
The other two nod and agree. Then Issac comes stepping through the threshold. They all share a look of confusion and wait for what the young man has to say.
"I'm sorry to interrupt. Harry's unconscious and I'm worried that he's dying. But please... don't let me distract you. I'll let you continue your conversations." Always one for words, Issac.
Ben pushes past all of them and finds his way into the room he was sharing with Harry. Harry Greene is now blue in the face. His face is rolled to the side, his lips are swollen, and he's barely breathing.
"Oh please." Whispers Ben who gets down on his knees beside him, "Harry don't do this... Please... you're my best friend."
There's a gentleness to Ben's grasp of Harry's hand. A furrow in his brow that is unfamiliar. This is a deep friendship. It's inappropriate to ask.
There's a thud. It's wet and harsh. With it comes a whoosh of spirits Tori tries to pretend she doesn't feel. She knows... death has found them. So, when she turns to look at Issac, she's the only one not surprised to find that he's got about four inches of a long blade splitting his skull down the middle.
Issac crashes to his knees and the ax is wedged between his eyes. Tara screams. Ben turns away and presses his face into Harry's sleeve. Tori stares at the man who leers behind the weapons handle there in the corridor.
"I'm sorry." Whisper's Mr. Vines, "I didn't... I couldn't..."
Tori steps forward, "I need you to hand me the ax, Mr. Vines. It's for your own safety."
There's a split second between the tilt of his head and the butt of the ax handle popping her between the eyes. She blacks out and rolls over on the carpet beside Issac's limp body.
Tara goes running for the exit and before Mr. Vines can catch her Ben Hope is screaming at the tops of his lungs in a fit of rage just to allow her to escape. Mr. Vines looks at him curiously. The boy waits there for this man to come over to him and chop off his head. He's ready.
"Take me." He mutters, "While I kneel by someone I deeply care about. While I'm vulnerable. End my life while I try to keep his from ending. Coward! You're weak, you are."
There's a glare in his brow. A subtle shaking but he mostly keeps it at bay. Then, a cold chill is running over him as the man walks away. In a flash he's out by the door pulling Tori inside and shutting the door. He locks it, takes one look at Tori and then races to bookshelf in the back of the room.
"Issac?" He utters, forgetting for a moment that the boy is dead but choosing not to care, "Issac, what do I do?"
He then kicks the bookshelf. A single textbook from the 1970's falls. It opens to a page on 'Chaos Magick'. With swift eyes he scans, 'They're called chaos magicians because sorcerers aren't taken seriously. That's what they are; a group of like minded sorcerers with a singular belief. This belief is that the cosmos is in constant flux. Any order of reality is subject to chaos.'
The next page continues beneath a series of symbolism from the moon, to the spiral, to the single eye, and even the serpent. He leers over them for a second and then continues reading, 'They also believed that one idea doesn't apply to all people or groups. Therefore this radical practices inducts a method that re-imagines the way we understand magickal doctrine. A method that is characterized by its eclecticism and non-conformity to traditional occult orders.'
"What the fuck does this mean!" He shouts.
Then he stills himself. A deep breath, a count to ten, then he's closing his eyes and centering his focus. Despite the screams and loud crashes that erupt from downstairs. Then he's okay. He's walking over to kneel down beside Harry. Here it is that he places hands upon Harry's abdomen.
"I grew up in a household that preaches about a man who walked on water, turned water to wine, and returned from death. I've also watched films about beings throughout history who came from the heavens and did magical things. I didn't come from the heavens... but I believe that somethings out there have. The moon isn't just up there to take up space. She controls everything from the tide, to the minstrel cycle, to fertility. Mr. Farouk taught us that the human body is seventy percent water so... who's to say she doesn't influence us a little bit too." He's shivering, full of doubt, and going mad.
Still he closes his eyes and whispers, "I believe... magick, magick, magick... help me..."
Downstairs...
Clash, crash, bang!
There's a butcher knife in her hand and she's just shoved everything off the kitchen island in his direction. As far as she knows... she's alone. Tara Jones against the ax murderer. There's fear in her blood.
He's chasing her and she screams. They wind up in the living room. He cuts through the coffee table sending glass flying. A few pieces cut her face. The wind is strong and the draft from the outside sends a chill down her spine.
He swings again and she rolls across the carpet past the fire place. His blade tears into the couch and cotton rains down as if it were snow. She's crawling on her hands and knees into the billiard room. Potted plants hit the ground and hard clay breaks like it is glass. The pools table is flipped over onto it's side and then smashed into pieces.
A liquor cabinet breaks open and whiskeys bust on the hard flooring sending the foul scent of alcohol into the air. She's throwing a pool stick out at him and making her escape back into the kitchen. She's at a dead end.
It seems to be over for Tara as he comes down hard on her leg. She screams and her bones separate from her bones. It's a vortex of colors in her head and then she's lifting herself up on the kitchen sink. She looks out to her left and he's got the ax above his head. Just as he's about to swing down again she's pulling out the faucet and spraying him while she's ripping the cabinet door beneath them open.
He falls into the floor stabbing himself in the shoulder. She's scurrying away from him but Mr. Vines is still in his maddened state so she's once again cornered at the staircase. She pulls herself up, scooting little by little, as he reaches out for her. The blade is still stuck in his arm so while he removes it she makes it to the top of the stairs.
He's quick though, and soon he's on his feet. He's standing before her prepare to break her in half. She lets out a wail crossed between a lion and child and then he's gasping. Blood slips from his lips. The ax falls from his grasp and the blade in his stomach comes slipping out.
When he crashes to the ground it's Tori standing there holding the blade. She swallows hard and chokes out, "I'm sorry Tara... I'm not going to be able to find Charlie alone. I couldn't let him take you too."
Tara starts to cry. Then the sun comes slipping up out of that silver blue of a new day, through the clouds of the storm. When Tori drops the blade she's by Tara's side and she's holding her. The two of them sit there in the moment. Tara with tears slipping down her face and Tori with a stern look of determination on hers. This goes on for several minutes and the front door opens.
Tori's POV:
It's Robyn. She gasps as she drops the bags of groceries. Oranges and bottles of water roll across the bloody floor.
In less than ten minutes she's in the passenger seat of Robyn's car. The other three sit in the back. Issac is dead, there's nothing they can do about that. However, Ben did something back there and while Harry's as green as the hoodie he wears he's alive.
There's an open road ahead of them and according to the gps (as askew as it is from the storm) we should be arriving at their destination in just eight short hours. As inaccurate as that feels I get comfortable. I'm covered in blood and sweat so it's not easy but I manages to sleep for a while.
When I awake I'm looking out at the sunset over Nashville Tennessee. It's a pink and orange haze pouring through the open hold of a guitar sculpture. Driving to the U.S. isn't an easy feat. It takes a lot longer than eight hours.
"How'd we get here?" I ask as we spill out onto an open highway, "And don't lie to me... I know how long it takes to get to the U.S. from the U.K. via car... we're really early."
The woman in the drivers seat looks at her and cautiously says, "Magick?"
"Very funny." I say but I'm not laughing.
She sighs, "There's tunnels through the ocean... a lot of them are compromised due to the current state of the united nations. Luckily, they're distracted right now and I was able to take a short cut. Happy?"
"No... then again I'm never happy. Where's my brother?" I ask.
She nods, "I'm you to him. A safe haven. A lot of people think he's valuable. They're after him... I'm with an organization that wants to protect him."
"You're a witch." I don't need an answer, I can tell.
She lies, "I'm someone who cares a lot."
For now I accept her half ass-ed answers. I could pick at her, make her snap. What good would that do me. My brother's close, I won't do anything to mess up my chances of seeing him again. I'll deal with her later.