Michael thinks,
“So naive Sam. You make this so easy.”
Anna isn’t with them. I push against the ground to lunge out of the bushes, but I am held down, immobile. The numbing fog that has infested and oppressed me
, latches onto my mind again. I fight it, knowing that this is the last time Michael will enslave me, then I will be theirs to possess.
No, no, NO!
Jesca
I hear Xander and Sebastian close behind me. I try to use my ability to Astral Project, jump, but I can’t. Has Michael or the beings affected our abilities or is it an illusion? I know it is wrong on so many levels to make them bend to my will like this, but it was the only way I was going to get them to follow.
I pick up my pace, pumping my legs harder, but my lightning speed doesn’t ever kick in. If Xander gets his chance, he will tackle me to the ground and hold me there until I listen to reason. The thing is, the faith in what I am doing, who I am doing it for, is the only reasoning I need right now. Ahead I see the break in the woods, a light. I hit the pavement without a hiccup in my footing.
Immediately I hear two sets of feet close behind me; they caught up quickly. The street light ahead comes upon us quickly with the speed we have taken. It has an intimate familiarity; one that is not pleasant. I look to my left and right quickly. The houses, I have passed them many times in my childhood. The gray one story with the bright red shutters and door, the lime green VW Beatle that always parked on the road, old Ms. MacDermott watering her flowers, and the...
Woah! What?
I do a double take, but Ms. MacDermott and her watering hose are gone.
I don’t acknowledge Xander grabbing my arm and whipping around to face him. I keep my eyes on the yard that displayed Ms. M, waiting for her to reappear, for it to reappear. “It wasn’t her. It was him. He knows we are coming.”
My words must take Xander off guard, because his hands loosen around my arm. In his moment of weakness, I pull away and start running again.
Xander calls after me,
“Jesca, our abilities are weakened, we can’t go up against him, not like this.” Suddenly, the road takes on an illusory quality, stretching in distance and rising in elevation. I feel the burning in my legs and my lungs catch fire as I keep running up the growing hill. I turn to see how far behind Xander and Sebastian are when I notice a thin, slinking fog trailing behind them. The fog quickly thickens and rolls along the glossy elevated pavement, climbing with Xander, Sebastian and I. Through my panting I manage to holler, “Keep running!”
I look ahead of me and concentrate on the climb, but it is hard to ignore what could be within the fog gaining on us. I turn once more to see outlines of beings, human beings, within the fog; no faces, only silhouettes and blackened sockets where eyes would normally reside.
Xander and Sebastian both look back to see what has my attention. The visible fear on their faces when they turn back is what give me that extra push I need to fight the illusion of the impossible climb ahead of us. I turn back and pump my arms hard, swinging them in time with the pounding of my feet and my racing heart.
Up ahead, another street light.
Fifty yards away.
The way the mist gathers and swims in the atmosphere around the lamppost.
Twenty five yards.
I look at the ground; wet, glossy asphalt shimmering in the light.
Fifteen yards.
I feel Xander and Sebastian at either side of me as I slow to a walk.
My nightmare, the one about my adoptive parents, Roan and Delilah. I turn in a circle taking in the precision these beings, Michael, have performed to recreate an intimate terror that plagued me for years. If they thought it would spark that initial fear I felt again, they are mistaken. All this has done is piss me off.
Xander’s voice warns,
“Move faster, Jes! They are on us!”
I turn to see the human-shaped shadows moving rigidly and unnaturally as they writhe in fast motion closer and closer.
All three of us turn at the same time and run as hard as we can. I swing a left at the lamp post and round the corner onto my street. Our feet pounding pavement and our wheezing lungs are the only sounds I hear as I come up on the delusion of my home.
Sebastian and Xander have stopped behind me. Out of breath, Sebastian says, “They aren’t advancing.”
I turn to see that the phantasmic figures are standing motionless, like sentinels, about a half a block from us rather than attacking.
I turn back to this displaced house, meant to be the embodiment of my childhood home. Among the graying, warped wood panels, I try to find some reminder that this was once where I lived with Roan, Delilah, and Bethany. I approach the front door and glance at the front lawn, well, the lack of a lawn. Not a blade of grass to be found, just dirt. I step up onto the creaking wooden porch. The siding on the house is cracked and rotting and the two front windows have been broken out. The front door is no longer deep blue in hue, but rather corroded and peeled back to reveal the decaying wood beneath. I reach out to touch the specks of blue paint that have managed to cling to the door. That is my confirmation. This withered, shattered, and desecrated edifice is an illusion of the place I had called home as a child. I close my eyes and let my mind travel beyond the door, testing the murky waters of the illusion I’m about to leap into. I see nothing though.
Craptacular!
“Jesca! No!”
Anna’s blood-curdling scream sets me into action. I rear back and kick the door, expecting it to splinter upon my contact, but it doesn’t. “Ouch, shit!”
Xander comes to my side. “Stop
, Jes! You are going to hurt yourself!”
The pain quickly turns to anger. Ignoring Xander, I lunge at the door and make contact with my body; the door doesn’t budge. “I’m not going to let him stop me!”
I rear back and lunge once more with all my strength at the door. This time it gives and I stumble into the house blindly with Sebastian and Xander close behind and right into a hard chest and grabbing arms. “Ah, ah, ah, where do you think you are going little guardian?”
Sam’s voice is not like I remember; smooth and sly. It is coarse and clipped, like he is crazed, insane.
Xander reacts quickly and tries to grab hold of my outstretched hand, but the sound of a blade being unsheathed and the feel of cold steel on my neck, steals my chance of a quick escape.
Xander is swaying from side to side, anger building within him as he thinks. I know what he is thinking.
Sebastian does too; he grips one of Xander’s arm. “Don’t, Xander.”
He growls in response to Sebastian’s plea and tries to pull away from him. I feel the burn that follows when the blade of Sam’s knife slides slowly. “Her life is teetering on your sanity
, Xander. Don’t push a man that is fighting for his.”
I widen my eyes to send Xander the message loud and clear.
Back the hell off! He won’t hurt me unless you make him!
Xander steps back and uncoils his fisted hands to show his surrender,
and then he shakes his head. “I will surrender for her. Never again will I surrender to you.”
Sam loosens the tension on the blade resting on my neck. I feel a cold tickle running along my neck that can only blood from the small cut Sam had inflicted. Xander’s eyes narrow on my neck and his mouth
drops open slightly releasing a groan. He obviously has seen the blood I feel sliding down my neck.
Sam puts his mouth clo
se to my ear and snarls harshly, “Upstairs.”
It is what I hear beneath the harsh snarl that catches
my attention; a hushed thought,
“Trying to hold on...hold back. Don’t want to hurt you.”
Sam’s hold on me has slacken
ed and so has the fear he commanded when he took me in his arms at the door.
He is fighting Michael. He is trying to keep from hurting me!
Another tenuous tho
ught comes from a fractured Sam,
“Trying. Make right.”
Within moments, Sam’s body is tensing with the blade pushing against my neck and he is wielding the commanding insidious energy that he had moments earlier.
Michael is trying to take hold of Sam’s mind and possess him permanently. Suddenly, Sam pulls me backward and I try and steady my feet so I don’t stumble and slit my own throat. Each move Sam and I make, Xander and Sebastian follow. As I walk backward up the weak stairs sinking and giving beneath our weight, I keep my eyes fixed on Xander and Sebastian hoping they don’t try to rescue me from my captive’s arms. If a sliver of Sam is still in control, he could help us fight Michael, save Ezra and Nate, and get us back home. Yet, if Michael takes complete possession and Xander or Sebastian make a move, we all will die. Call it what you will, but I choose to believe that Sam Crest is still in control of his body fighting dauntlessly for his redemption and our salvation.
Jesca
We reach the last step on the stairs, Sam walks me backward a few steps, then stops in front of a closed door. I feel Sam’s hot breath on my neck as he pants laboriously. I can hear the fight he is putting up in there with every breath he takes. I need to try and reach him. I open my mouth, but hesitate. I look at Xander clutching the rail of the staircase, ready to pounce if Sam makes the wrong move. Sebastian’s eyes are fixed on Sam while his hand braces Xander’s shoulder in warning. I shake my head at Xander, telling him to back down. I try to pass my thoughts to him.
“If you can hear me, please don’t hate me for what I’m about to say, Xander.”
I rel
ease the breath I am holding onto and deliver the words that might give Sam the absolution he seeks and the fortitude to not let go of himself. “Sam, whatever happens, I forgive you. For everything.”
Xander’s hand falls from the railing and he backs down one step, not just mentally
, but physically thrown by what I have just said. Sebastian rests both of his hands on Xander’s shoulders to support him, but he shrugs them off and starts moving toward Sam and I. I feel Sam tense up and the door behind us open. Sam backs me through the doorway swiftly and spins me around to face the heart of the room. My heart drops when I see Ezra and Anna standing side by side looking at me with anguish in their eyes and Nate writhing in Michael’s arms with a knife at his throat, mirror image of Sam and I.
I cry out, “Nate!”
I try and wiggle against Sam’s hold, but he tightens his arm and presses the blade firmer against my throat. I’m no good dead, so I still under him. I take in the room around me and I recognize the scene from my dream instantly; Roan and Delilah fighting against the ominous aura and possession. Yes, that nightmare is from a distant past that easily feels like a lifetime ago for me. Seeing things now, it was not a nightmare. It was a premonition of this, right now, saving Ezra and Anna.
The possession? Sam. Will I be able to save him?
Anna whimpers her plea, “Please
, Sam. Don’t do this.”
Michael sadistically
mimics her plea, “Please, Sam, don’t do this. Shut up!”
Anna’s entire body shakes as she tries to contain her sobs and hiccups.
Ezra is shaking his head, eye glassy and mouth tortured with sadness.
Michael shifts his nefarious glare back to Sam and I and smiles. “He can’t hear you. His decayed, lost soul will never find its way back to his body.”
He looks down at Nate and tightens his hold around his neck making Nate gasp. Michael says, “You know, you remind me of Sam in a way, Nathaniel, addicted to a woman that you will never have. Yes, yes, you found me out! Realized I wasn’t your precious mother. Touché. ”
Nate’s eyes pinch closed using all of his strength to hold Michael’s arm. Michael looks back at me now. “She is a very beautiful woman. She has a wandering eye though.”
I wiggle in Sam’s arms and kick my legs out at Michael. He knows nothing about what I feel for either of them. I can’t take much more of this bastard. “Son of bitch.”
Ignoring me, Michael takes his free hand and points beyond Sam and I. “Alexander Crest.”
Noticeably, I feel Sam’s arm loosen around my waist, and the blade of the knife relent.
Michael quickly puts his hand up to correct his slip of the tongue. “Sorry. I mean Alexander Sera.”
I hear a scuffle behind Sam and I. I can’t see, but I can imagine Sebastian is having to hold Xander back. Xander bellows, “Don’t even speak my name, Michael!”
Nate squirms in Michael’s arms, but he is stronger and pins him tighter. He continues, “Both of you have found something special in the one and only Jesca Gershon Kahn. She doesn’t realize how special she is to me though.”
That is when I feel the humming vibration within me; it is faint, but it is there. I take hold of that vibration and try and gather every ounce of energy within me, trying to build it within me. I grip Sam’s forearm tighter and I whisper, “Let me go, Sam.”