The storm outside was so violent that the people advised to stay indoors. Lyah, whose rose-beige skin and glossy black hair brighten any place, sits on the desk, sipping coffee, trying to concentrate on the new project due very soon. At this moment, she heard a loud knock at the door. Who could it be on such a day? She wondered, her heart thumping as she slowly walked to the door. She peered through the peep hole but saw no one. A shiver crawled up her spine. “Hello?” she called out in a soft voice, her voice trembling even as she knew it was silly to hope for an answer.
Silence. She grasped a shoehorn for defense, took a deep breath to steel herself, and flung open the door. No one was there. She took an unstable step forward, eyes scanning the open porch. Chilling dread crept over her. “Bhaa!” She shrieked, dropping the shoehorn. Her boyfriend Leo-laughing-ran out from behind the door.
He was drenched from head to toe, with his grin wide and wickedly mischievous. “Leo!” she jabbed his shoulder with a light slap. Her heart pounded out from fright and relief. “I hate you! Nearly gave me an attack.”. “Sorry, sorry!” he said, embracing her. “Couldn’t help myself.” Leo dried off and changed before settling in beside her. He told her about a week he spent away and a letter that had come from his mother. “My mom wrote that there’s a… tradition in her hometown, something that has to happen before marriage,” he explained. Lyah hesitated.
There was scar tissue of her own family: a father who drank too much, mother who left as a child. Family doesn’t mean much, she thought bitterly. But when she saw the hope within Leo’s eyes she forced a smile. “If it’s important to you, then… alright. “He smiled, taking her hands. “Thank you, Lyah. It means a lot.”. A week later, after the storm had cleared, they set off for Leo’s hometown, a small, remote village known as the Lake of Ebony.
Lyah’s friend Sarah came along, teasing, “Well maybe I’ll join you in those ghoulish rituals and marry Leo myself! “They laughed, but close enough to the village, the GPS began to fail. “Typical,” Sarah complained, as Leo steered them into the dense, dark forest. “Why’s it called ‘Lake of Ebony’? “Sarah asked, squinting at the canopy above them. “Because of this,” Leo gestured. “The trees here are so thick that it’s almost always dark.
Even the lake hardly ever sees sunlight. “AS they reached the village, a chill settled in the air. The people here looked pale, almost sickly, and avoided their gazes as they drove through.”. They finally came to an old mansion, where Leo’s mother, Claura, welcomed them with a warm smile, if rather unsettling. “Welcome, Leo … and you must be Lyah,” Claura said in a voice that was velvety but somehow slow. Her eyes hovered on Sarah, who introduced herself, trying not to look uneasy.
Claura’s gaze was… too piercing, as if looking into each one of them for something. Later in the evening, while they sat to dinner, Claura began talking about the “tradition.” “Our family has been cursed since long ago by a witch residing deep within the forest,” she explained, eyes darkening. “This curse brings a disease that would spread throughout the village and wipe out everybody.”.
But… our ancestors discovered a cure. Those of our bloodline can eat the petals of the elore flower. It keeps the curse away.”Lyah’s stomach turned. She didn’t like the idea of curses, much less the idea of children or rituals. But she forced a nod. “So… we just eat the petals? “Claura’s smile was too wide. “Yes. It’s a ritual.”. One that. all future mothers in the family must partake in. “That night, Lyah lay in bed, feeling a weight pressing down on her chest. But just as she drifted off, a scream jolted her awake. She shot up, heart pounding, and saw Sarah gasping for air in the next bed over “Sarah! Are you okay ” “I… I saw something ,” Sarah whispered, her voice shaking. “I was in this small, dark room… drenched in blood. And there was a baby… crying next to me.”
She shuddered. “It felt so real. “Lyah tried to reassure her, but as she glanced out the window, she saw one fly land on the glass. Then another. And another. And within morning light, the window was crawling with them. But the following morning, as they sat down to breakfast, Sarah felt so weak, so dizzy she staggered to her feet. She took one step forward and then crashed to the floor. Claura ran out of the cabin easily to fetch the village doctor.
He poked at her, probed her, and told them gravely. “She’s pregnant.” Leo bounced up and down like a rubber ball. Sarah looked over at Lyah in confusion. “I thought you said.” Lyah shook her head. “I changed my mind, Sarah… I just… I wanted a fresh start with Leo.” Claura’s face grew even darker. “We have to start the ritual. It can’t wait. “That night, the storm was raging so hard outside that Sarah couldn’t sleep. She kept tossing and turning in bed, when she heard a faint sound outside her window a low hum, like chanting.
She stood up, heart pounding, and looked out of the window. A shadow slid across the lawn, slowly encroaching on the woods. It was Lyah, her face impassive, her movements stiff and robot-like. “Lyah?” Sarah whispered and reached for her shoes, dressing to slip out into the chill night. The darkness nipped at her with cold snaps of air as the trees loomed over her like dark sentinels. She followed Lyah further into the woods, the trees crowded in, seemingly more solid with the darkness enveloping them completely. Lyah stopped cold. Sarah let her body rigid, frozen in place, while she watched, terrified, as Lyah sat to the ground.
Sarah tore to reach her friend, her heart pounding with fear. “Lyah?” she whispered quietly, placing a hand on her friend’s shoulder and shaking gently. But as she touched her, Lyah’s body rolled to the side, and Sarah’s hand pulled back, slick with something wet and sticky. She gasped and, in the dim moonlight, could see that Lyah’s skin was pale, her face frozen in a twisted expression of horror, her body covered in flies. “No …no, no, no.” Sarah whimpered, stumbling backward. The air buzzed with flies as they crawled from Lyah’s mouth, eyes, and ears, covering her like some grotesque, writhing blanket. A whisper floated through the trees. “Sarah.” She whipped around to see someone. But there was no one there. “Sarah.” The whisper grew louder, closer, until she felt it at her ear. Leave. now.
Sarah screamed and stumbled backward, catching one last glimpse of Lyah’s lifeless face before she turned and ran back into the manor. When Sarah finally entered the manor she was gasping for air, her hands shaking as she burst inside the manor. Claura and Leo were there, their faces expressionless, but Sarah’s mind was too dazed and crazed to take in. Sarah slammed the door shut behind her, gasping for breath as her heart pounded wildly in her chest. Her hands trembled, and her body was still chilled to the bone from the midnight air. The eerie silence of the room did nothing to soothe her nerves. She stepped forward and froze. In the dim light, she saw Lyah standing there, her back turned, with something dark and wet on her hands.
Blood. Sarah’s eyes fell, and her breath hitched in her throat as she took in the view of Leo’s limp body sprawled at Lyah’s feet. His eyes were wide open and blankly staring into nothingness. “Lyah?” Sarah’s voice was barely a whisper. Lyah slowly turned around to face her, and the color of her eyes began burning brightly red and unnatural, like embers smoking in the night. She let out a guttural scream that echoed off the walls, a sound so primal and furious that it sent a shockwave of terror through Sarah. Sarah stumbled back, reaching for the door, but before she could turn, Lyah’s icy hand clamped around her throat, squeezing tight.
Everything went dark. When Sarah came to senses, her wrists were shackled, chains biting into her skin. She breathed the scent of earth and mildew. Her head throbbed as she tried to raise it. The stone chamber was lit with candles, their light shattering into jagged stickiness on the walls. Lyah stood side by side with Claura, both chanting a misshapen ancient language, their voices weaving together like some monstrous entranced grasshoppers. Their words twisted the air, so it became thick and noxious.”Please,” Sarah whispered, her cracked voice desperate. “Let me go… please…”Lyah’s head tilted, a cruel smile twisting her once-kind face. Her skin rippled, stretching and sagging, melting away to reveal an ancient, skeletal form, with skin wrinkled and taut over thin, brittle bones.
She gazed at Sarah through mocking, cold eyes. “You really think I’d let you go? ” Lyah hissed. “You knew how much I adored Leo. But did you think I didn’t know about the affair? ” Venom dripped from her words. “It was astonishingly nasty, Sarah. “Sarah’s mouth opened, but no words came out. She could only stare, horrified as she processed the accusations. “How… “Why are you doing this? I didn’t mean to hurt you… please, Lyah…”Claura’s laugh echoed through the room, sharp and piercing. “He isn’t even my son,” she sneered. “I killed his parents and raised him for my own purpose, to benefit our lineage. My only family is Lyah, my true sister. “Sarah stared at her, shaking. “But… but you were pregnant.”. I saw you… I saw you and Leo… “Claura’s lip curled in a smirk. “An illusion, dear. Just like you. Leo was nothing more than a pawn to us, a means to capture this village.”
Her voice dropped to a cold whisper. “He didn’t know we were witches, or that Lyah was my sister. All he wanted was to save her. So, he used you in this rite. But once he began to suspect us… well, he had to die. A sob caught in Sarah’s throat at the pain of the betrayal as she looked at Lyah, who never flinched and stared back at her with unblinking red eyes. Lyah’s voice was soft, mocking. “Congratulations, Sarah”. Welcome to motherhood.
She lifted her hand, blowing a handful of glittering spores into Sarah’s face. They clung to her skin, itching, burrowing under the surface, as if a thousand tiny insects crawled beneath her flesh. Sarah screamed, thrashing against the chains as the spores set her bloodstream on fire. “What are you going to do with me? She gasped, voice strangled with panic. Claura’s voice was serene, almost mocking. “Ah, Sarah, skin allergies are only just the beginning. It’s the mark of an Ebony Witch’s curse.
The villagers will abhor you for it. She leaned in closer still, her breath ice-cold on Sarah’s skin. “They’ll make you pay”. Lyah and Claura dragged her out into the darkness where the villagers had gathered; their faces obscured by dark cloaks. All of them carried torches, the flames dancing ominously through the night. The villagers sneered, whispering in low, hate-filled voices as they pushed Sarah to the edge of a dark, deep pit in the center of the forest. Sarah’s body was weak, her skin burning as the spores multiplied, spreading pain through her veins. It was little, though, to the pain in her chest as she looked out at the faces and saw Leo lying limp, flung aside in the clearing. She held in a sob, tormenting herself with regret and shame. She did love Leo, even if her love had been sullied by betrayal, but that was all over now. too late.
The villagers stepped forward, their grim faces, their voices sounding like rustling leaves, chanting as they tumbled her into the pit. She fell down, her body crumbling as she sensed the weight of that darkness swallowing her whole. A torch was flung after her, licking flames eating frightfully close, lighting the pit in flickers of lights. Sarah screamed pleadingly for mercy as the fire blazed all around her. But the fire did not consume her, for the spores protected her, covered her body as the meat of her rotted, peeling back beneath their relentless onslaught. Her abdomen ballooned, twisted in unnatural contortion and then. it became pain.
Not quite. Something elseShe felt a thing inside of her. This lurching pressure, sick to her stomach and building still until her skin was taut and ripped open. A horde of twisting, squirming things poured forth, millions of flies bearing the accursed spores with them. They dispersed, went up into the night air, a dark, throbbing cloud that moved toward the village. IN the blackness of the pit, Sarah convulsed, barely semiconscious, her eyes dimming. Her hands, slick with her own blood, drooped against the stone floor as her life ebbed away. As Sarah’s life waned, Lyah and Claura, the witches, stood above the hole, smiling with triumph.
The villagers fell to their knees, as the spores filled the air and bound their minds to the will of the Ebony witches. In the distance, a baby’s cry echoed through the forest and brought the last symbol of the curse. Lyah and Claura exchanged a glance, eyes glinting triumphantly, as they listened to the din. In tandem, they softly mouthed the words in perfect harmony: the whispers low and contented; “The Lake of Ebony is ours.”.
By: Visalakshi E
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