With one last push with his hand, the topsoil breaks, grabbing onto the sides of the newly made hole Marcus slowly starts to pull himself out of the ground. Edging on exhaustion the moment his hips makes level with the ground he falls over onto his side. Confusion sets in as his last memory are the moments of his death. On the floor of his home succumbing from a mortal wound. Now he finds himself coming out of the ground. Covered in a layer of dirt, Marcus starts to wipe his face clean but pauses when he looks at his hands. His wedding band is gone and there is dirt embedded in the wrinkles and cracks of his skin. His insides ignite in searing pain, forcing him to roll over and clutch his sides. Loud rumbling comes from his chest and frigidly cold blood forces its way out of his mouth. With the initial heave subsiding the crimson liquid flows freely as it splatters on the ground. The overgrowth of grass is flooded as the last drops come from Marcus. Helpless to watch as the blood begins to stir and become active. The moonlight reveals what's happening before him, the blood as it continues to swirl and bubble also starts to turn into a pitch-black color. When the metamorphosis is complete the blackened blood begins to slide towards Marcus. Unable to move, he can only be a fearful witness to his body being invaded by the once life-giving liquid, it moves like an entity all to itself. Forcing his mouth open, Marcus starts taking the blood back, it slithers down the back of his throat, as the rest forces it's way into the pores of the skin and gets absorbed back into his body. When all of the blood is back in the body Marcus is again able to move. At first, he notices that the moonlight now illuminates more than before, what once required a lantern to see in is now easy to navigate. Marcus can feel his muscles imbued with a new vigorous sensation. Looking at his surroundings, Marcus tries to recognize where he is. "This cannot be." He says looking over to the hole in the ground and sees a granite stone. The markings notate the death of his family and himself. "Beloved family who will be missed," Marcus whispers as his mind goes back to when he discovered the crate. The images of his family remain and the face of Tyler brings on a momentary rage from within and without thinking he slams his fist against the tombstone, cracking it upon impact. Instead of the breaking of bones in his hand, he feels the desire to hit the stone again. The next strike deepens the crack and the one that follows breaks it completely. Once again his insides erupt but this time it is with the painful hollow feeling of hunger.
***
The light of the moon cascading down upon them, the "Daughters of the Evening Grace", begin to form a circle. Each holding a candle that provides enough added light for them to commence with their seasonal ritual. Amongst them is Melissa Shadelyn. A Black hair brown-eyed witch whose face is painted with dark blue tattoos of the moon cycle along her hairline. Each member keeps their hair at a short length as a symbol that women are equals with men. 441Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwgDq6Bclmy
"Spirit of the Evening Goddess we ask you to bless this ritual this evening. May no force be able to break our circle of light and may you bring bountiful tiding to the members of our coven." Each member takes her turn saying the opening prayer, when the last one goes silent then Melissa steps into the middle of the circle and takes out a deck of tarot cards.
"Please use these cards as a way of communication with us and share with us your wisdom. Guide us on our path this evening." Melissa says raising the cards into the light of the moon. The gesture of offering is accepted, the wind begins to swirl around her, the cards leave her hands and float into the air without anyone touching them. The cards begin to slowly circle around her, each pass they pick up momentum. "Thank you, Spirit for blessing us once again with your presence. The Daughters of the Evening Grace are humbled and seek your guidance, share with us your wisdom with these cards for the coming Autumn. What will the coming days bring us?" From out of the rotation of cards one comes forward and rests itself in Melissa's hand. "Paradise, the Spirit says well will enjoy great rewards for our service. How are we to attain your blessed boon, what is it you ask from us?" Once again one of the cards comes forward and rests in her hands. "Sacrifice, we must give of ourselves and our service to be awarded the Spirit's blessings. What is it that you require of ourselves to sacrifice in the coming days?" The rotation of the cards suddenly reverses, once one separates from the deck the rest of the cards fall to the ground face down. "Cemetery, the end of all living. We are to give our lives Spirit?"
The wind fades to a calm breeze and from behind Melissa's side of the circle, the breaking of branches and movement in brush startles the members of the coven. "Careful sisters, we are not alone. Be prepared for anything." Melissa says, scanning the best she can by candlelight, trying to see any sign of life in the distance. One by one the member's candles blow out as each is taken down by an unseen force that is cloaked within the darkness. The sound of breaking bones and cries fills Melissa's ears, she raises her candle to where her sisters were standing and she is taken back by the image that is before her. Each member of the coven lays dead on the ground, some with their necks broke others with fist-sized gaping wounds in their chests. Feeling the presence of someone standing behind her Melissa turns around and is in the face of the attacker. The man before her is covered in a mix of dirt and gore, his blonde hair stained with the blood of her sisters. His eyes blackened over unable to see any resemblance of light within. Dark lines trace down his face and neck like a morbid tattoo residing just under the skin. The man's hands are traced with blackness as well, his fingernails are covered in blood. "I will not fear you, devil, you may kill me but I will not give you the pleasure of begging for my life."
The man stands there, watching her. His eyes turn back to their natural blue color the blackened veins recede once again. With no signs of whatever possessed the man before evident, Melissa cautiously speaks, "Who are you stranger, why have you killed my sisters?"
"I am Marcus Obsidian, the Mayor of Dren," Marcus says. Melissa steps back away from him. "Where are you going woman ?"
Shaking her head, Melissa reaches into her robes and takes out a dagger, "The mayor died last year in his home. The townsfolks buried him with his family. There is no way you are him, tell me your real name monster."
Nodding his head, "You are correct, my family and I did die. I remember in my last moments of life that I made a deal, one I had no clue that it would have such an effect on me." Looking around at the bodies lying on the ground and the blood on his hands, Marcus goes to say something to Melissa once again but she has taken the opportunity to slip back into the night and flee her sister's murderer. Marcus is left alone standing in the circle of bodies, "Tyler dying that is all that matters."
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