Authors: Vincent Morrone
“The forbidden fruit,” I said.
“Something like that.” Grandpa nodded. “Of course, Tristan’s family tried to ward him off. Told him Annabelle was only after his money.”
“If they loved each other, they shouldn’t have cared,” I said. “Their families should have just left them alone.”
To my surprise, Grandpa agreed. “You’re right, of course. Maybe if they had, our families wouldn’t be in the position we’re in today.”
“And what position is that?” I asked.
“We’ll get to that,” Grandpa insisted and I pouted. “Don’t pout.”
“I don’t pout,” I said.
“Right,” Grandpa replied. “Annabelle’s family threatened to throw her out on the street if she didn’t stop seeing Tristan. And that was a much bigger deal than it would be today, trust me. Tristan’s family threatened to cut him off from the family fortune. To his credit, from what I understand, Tristan never batted an eye. He didn’t care about the money. Neither of them did. They were
in
love
. They wanted to get
married
. Have
babies
. Blah, blah, blah.”
“Grandpa,” I teased, “you romantic old fool.”
Ignoring me, Grandpa continued. “So before anyone knew it, they were engaged and the wedding date was approaching. Both of them tried to get the other’s family to accept them. They were making some progress. Tristan had even formally asked Annabelle’s father for her hand in marriage. Her father had to admit he was impressed by the young man. For a while, it looked like there would be a happily ever after.”
“I take it there wasn’t,” I said. “Was it picking out china patterns that did them in?”
“No, it had nothing to do with dishes,” Grandpa said. “And far more to do with the fact that three days before the wedding, Annabelle disappeared. No one knew where she was. At first, they thought maybe she was with Tristan, but he had no idea where she was either, and no one doubted him. He was frantic. They say his love for her was so clear to everyone that even those McKnights who had been dead set against the wedding put aside their differences with the Blackburns and started to look for her. Then after three days, they found her.” Grandpa sighed. “Or what was left of her.”
I gasped.
“She’d been tortured,” Grandpa said. “Broken bones. Burned skin. Left naked in the woods. Worst part was her eyes. Those beautiful, blue eyes that every single person in Spirit had admired were gone.”
“Gone?” I repeated. “What happened to them?”
Grandpa shrugged. “No one knows. When Tristan found her they say you could hear him scream from one end of the town to the other.”
“He must have been devastated.”
“As the story goes, he had a small house he’d built by the stream. He was going to move into it with Annabelle after they were married. He holed himself in there, away from everyone. He wouldn’t talk to anyone from either family. And while he was in there,
things
happened.”
“What things?” I asked.
Grandpa sighed. “Bad things. The families once again turned on each other. The McKnights accused us of killing poor Annabelle just so Tristan could never have her, saying the Blackburns felt she’d be better dead than to become a McKnight.”
“I suppose the Blackburns blamed the McKnights?” I asked.
“You’d suppose correctly,” Grandpa affirmed.
“
Did they ever catch the killer? I mean really catch him and prove it was him?”
“Catch him?” Grandpa said. “Maybe they did. People on both sides seemed to take matters into their own hands. There was plenty of violence to go around. Prove it? Nope, they never did prove a damn thing. Except that McKnights and Blackburns make better enemies than friends.”
I shook my head. “It shouldn’t have to be that way. What happened was horrible, but it was the work of a maniac, not an entire family. And certainly that has nothing to do with members of the families today.”
Grandpa laughed. “You think that was the end of the story? I haven’t even gotten to the good stuff yet.”
“You’re kidding, right?” I asked. “Dead brides-to-be with their eyes popped out is the warm-up? What do you consider the good stuff? Cannibalism?”
“Just listen,” Grandpa grumbled. “This here is important.”
I rolled my eyes, then sat up straight and gave him a salute.
“Ok
ay, so after a few days,” Grandpa continued, “some people were getting very upset over the McKnights and the Blackburns beating the tar out of each other. Someone got the idea to try and end it. It started with Annabelle’s mother, who was scared one of her other children would get killed. She and Tristan’s father decided to go and see Tristan. Annabelle’s mother had been one of the first to accept Tristan, and Tristan’s father had taken a shine to Annabelle. He never had a daughter and had started to look forward to Annabelle being a part of the family. They decided they were going to go to Tristan’s house and break down the door if they had to, and then the three of them would do their best to calm everyone else down.
“When they got there,” Grandpa said, “the door was locked. Tristan didn’t answer.
His father banged at the door. Annabelle’s mother begged for him to answer. Nothing. So his father yelled out if Tristan didn’t open this door within ten seconds, he was going to kick the door in. He gave him twenty. Then he kicked the door in and walked into what must have been hell.”
“Why?” I asked. “What did he find?”
“He found Tristan,” Grandpa said, “hanging from the rafters, a noose around his neck, his bodily fluids dripping onto the floor below.”
“Oh no,” I gasped. It was so horrible. The story had started out with all the elements of a classic love story
—a handsome young man, a beautiful young lady, and an unbreakable love, forbidden by their families. Then it turned into a Shakespearian tragedy with a huge helping of something out of a horror film thrown in.
“Instead of getting better,” Grandpa
went on, “things got worse. Instead of random beatings where someone limped away, members of both families started to disappear. Sometimes they would be found alive, sometimes they would be found dead. Sometimes, they were never found at all. Then it got worse.”
“You’re kidding,” I said.
“By this point,” Grandpa said, “members of the two families were becoming more desperate to end the madness. There seemed to be no way to stop it. Then someone got
creative
. The McKnights will tell you we were the first to do it. Most Blackburns will tell you that the McKnights crossed the line first. But the fact is no one really knows for sure. Probably no one ever will.”
“Know what?” I asked.
“The first time we know it happened was when Serverne McKnight, a man who had always been quick to hurt someone if he could, came calling on Garth Blackburn and his family. Garth was a simple man who never wanted trouble. Even through most of this, he had tried to keep out of it. Garth had two daughters. One was sixteen, the other only thirteen. Serverne showed up and started to say how he was going to show the rest of Spirit how McKnights should treat Blackburn women. Garth told him to get lost. He got a pick axe and used it to make his point.
“Garth’s entire family was watching from the door,” Grandpa continued. “Garth threatened Serverne
, who laughed. Garth swung the axe. Just a warning swing. Garth, he didn’t want to really hurt Serverne, but Serverne wanted to hurt Garth. He grabbed the axe as Garth swung it and next thing anyone knew, it caught fire. The fire seemed to come right out of Serverne, and within seconds, it engulfed poor Garth. His family watched as he was incinerated before their eyes.”
“Then Serverne went for the women,” Grandpa said. “They locked the door, but Serverne just blazed right through it. Garth’s wife told her daughters to run, but a wall of flame kept them from getting out. Garth’s wife stood in the way
, and she went up in flames next. Then he went for the older daughter. She screamed for her younger sister, Riley, to run. Within minutes, the entire house was an inferno. Riley was badly burned, but she survived. She’s the one who told the story. Of course, when she did, most assumed she was lying or exaggerating, but when Serverne showed up in town and started with the same fire act, they believed. Somehow, someone managed to get close enough to hit Serverne from behind. Cracked his head open.”
“Grandpa,” I said, “what you’re saying isn’t possible. People can’t really do things like that. Can they?”
Grandpa gave me a long, hard look. “You tell me. Have you ever heard of anyone who might be able to do things that were different?”
Grandpa’s gaze bore into me. He was studying my face, my features for any hint that would allow him to say
‘Ah ha!’
Well, he wasn’t going to get it from me.
“Bristol,” Grandpa said, “I love you. I’m your grandfather. Whatever it is, when you’re ready, you can tell me.”
“Grandpa,” I said, “you don’t think it really happened like that, do you? A McKnight suddenly developed superpowers? That’s crazy! That’s insane
. That’s…”
“That’s Spirit,” Grandpa interrupted
. “And he wasn’t the only one. Soon the Blackburns were hearing of McKnights that could do things like walk through walls, generate ice, or even read minds. It was said that someone within the McKnight family made a deal with some sort of demonic creature; a deal to allow him or her to wipe the Blackburn family out of existence.”
“Oh. My. God,” I said. “You
are insane.”
Jay shook his head. “Really Bristol, there might be something to his story. Remember
, you’re seeing a ghost he can’t see. That should tell you something.”
I wanted to tell Jay that I was a unique freak
, and that Grandpa was a loon. But if I started to yell at Jay now, it would become very difficult to keep up the pretense that I was just a normal seventeen-year-old girl, and that Grandpa was the wacky one.
“Am I insane?” Grandpa
said. “I think it was the McKnights who reached into those dark powers that were insane. All I know is, before long, Blackburns made the same deal.”
“Ok
ay, what happened once we made the deal?”
Grandpa sat back and looked deflated. “I’ll tell you what happened
-- it pretty much damned both families to hell.”
“Really,” I remarked
. “I guess I was expecting you to defend it.”
“They were all a bunch of idiots,” Grandpa said
. “Every last one of them. And we’re paying the price.”
I could see the anger in his eyes. “With the way you talk about the McKnights, I would think you would be happy for their misery.”
“Is that what you think of me?” Grandpa asked. “You just came home from finding a young, innocent boy who was murdered. You think I find anything but disgust in that? No one, not a McKnight, not a Blackburn,
no one
should ever be forced to bury his or her own child.”
I shrank back, shocked by the fury in his words and voice.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “You know, I haven’t given much thought to the fact that I didn’t just lose my parents. You lost your son.”
H
is expression softened. I could see the moisture in the corner of his eyes before he blinked it away.
“Thank you,” he said.
I looked to Jay only to see him fade away. I guess this conversation was getting too personal for him. I was now alone with Grandpa, and believe it or not, I wasn’t trying to escape anymore.
“Grandpa,
do you really think there’s something to that? I mean really?”
“To the curse?” he asked. “You bet your New York tushy. In the last five years, the Blackburns have buried my wife, my nephew, his wife, your parents, two of my five brothers, about eight…” He looked up as if he were doing math in his head. “No make that nine cousins
. Not to mention Mark’s wife. She was killed, you know.”
I nodded numbly, staggered by how many family members I’d lost without ever having met them. “Yeah, I know. I know they never caught the killer either.”
“That’s right,” Grandpa said. “Now let me tell you what I bet you don’t know. When they found poor, sweet Eve, she was just like Annabelle in the end. That’s how my boy found his wife.”
I gasped in horror.
“Simon and Zack?” I asked. “Please tell me they don’t know those details. Please tell me they never saw…”
“No,” Grandpa said
. “They never saw her; they were just told she was killed. No details. It was a closed casket. We made up some excuse for Simon about how she wanted it that way. He was too smart even back then to buy it, but he didn’t object. Zack was too young. I’m glad that your first thoughts were of them. It says a lot about you. There are others, you know.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t mean killed like that,” Grandpa said. “Although, through the years, there have been a few. Eve was the sixth over two hundred years, Annabelle being the first. Eve was the first within our lifetime. And three of those have been McKnights, by the way, but that’s not what I meant.”
I shook my head. “Then what did you mean?”