A PIERCE OF BLUE, A SPARK OF GREEN
“Are you sure
we should be in here, Beth?” Mason whispered, pulling back the sheet covering
the caving door. Beth leaned over to him and gave him a teasing smile, “Why,
are you scared?” Mason cleared his
throat, narrowing his eyes, “No.” Beth smiled and yanked the sheet off the
door, “Good.”
Slowly, Beth
stepped inside, her arms slightly extended at her sides as if about to take off
for flight.
Dust
particles fell to the ground like tiny snowfall, golden beams spilled from the
window ceiling above, highlighting the sinking desk in the corner.
“Look at it,
Mason. It’s beautiful,” Beth whispered, her blue eyes shining in awe.
Mason scanned the old shelves surrounding the
circular room. Every shelf was overflowing with books tightly crammed into the
small spaces.
“Why’d they
close this place down?”
“I dunno.
Bankrupt, maybe?” Beth answered, picking up a book off of the dusty desk next
to her. “I still don’t think we should
be in here, Beth,” Mason said, his dark blond brow creasing in worry.
Beth smiled,
her eyes twinkling, “Oh come on,
Mason. Have a little fun!” Mason rolled his eyes. Beth had always had a craving
for adventure, a talent for bending rules, and a passion for taking risks. Mason
was quiet, serious. The type of boy who followed the rules and kept to himself,
not one to take risks. Sometimes he wondered how the two could be such good
friends and be complete opposites.
Beth raced
over to a shelf, her fingers tugging at the loosened spines. “Mason! Look!” With
a hard tug, she jerked the heavy book from where it was wedged, swiping her
fingers over it to clear away the dust.
“What?” Mason
asked, coming over to her side. The book was a worn burgundy, with small and
faded gold letters printed across the cover. “It’s a book of fairytales!” Beth
exclaimed looking up at Mason with her piercing blue eyes. Mason gulped. Her
eyes were too beautiful to look at, so he glared down at his sneakers and
nodded slowly.
Oblivious to
Mason’s discomfort, Beth opened the cover, her fingers gently holding the
fragile paper. Mason sighed, suddenly
bored. “I’m going to go look at some other books.”
Beth made a
small sound of acknowledgement, her head buried deep in the book. Mason shook
his head, and began to explore.
* * *
“Um, Beth? Why would there be a closet, in an old library?” Beth slammed the book she was holding
closed, and turned, “What are you-“
Her sentence died as her eyes registered the scene before her.
Mason stood next to a door hidden behind a shelf of books, his hand frozen on the frame. “What did you do?!” Beth
whisper-screamed, her eyes ablaze. She stomped over, her black hair flying in a
wild ribbon behind her.
Mason opened and closed his mouth, still in shock. Beth snapped
her fingers in front of his face, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” Mason
shook his head, and looked down at her. “Should we go in?”
But she had already answered by running inside, fear just a word
and not a risk in her mind.
* * *
“This is beyond creepy,” Mason whispered, staring at the shelf
full of strange bottles and jars in front of him. “Why would they keep this stuff
in a library?” His fingers wrapped around a dark brown bottle labeled kyssa dryck. “Mason! Put that down! It
could be a potion!” Beth shouted, snatching the bottle from his hand.
Mason scoffed, “Really? Potions? What are you, five?”
Beth scowled at him, her hands balled into fists, “They could be
real.”
Mason smiled, “Yeah, and unicorns and fairies too.”
He picked up the bottle again, holding it high over his head so
Beth couldn’t reach it. Staring up at the bottle, he saw a small piece of paper
attached to the lid. “What do we have here?”
He mocked, pulling the square of paper from the lid. He set the bottle down and
with shaking fingers unfolded the paper.
“Let me see!” Beth complained, looking over Mason’s shoulder.
Mason’s brow creased, confused. “It’s a poem…” Beth’s eyes
glistened and a smile framed her face, “Let me read it!” She said, pulling the
paper from his fingers.
Mason looked at her as she read, listening to the dark words of
the hauntingly beautiful poem.
Night time stars fall against the
trees.
Shadowing the horror of the
monster me
Closing my eyes, I cut skin neatly
Soaking up blood, oh so discreetly
He needed to die, the man of that
hour
His words hurt, he was so sour
I dragged him here, with promise
of kiss
But instead he got my deadly lips
A shudder
went down Mason’s spine as soon as Beth stopped to process the poem. “Is it
over?” He asked, closing his eyes. Beth shook her head, gulping. “No. There is
more.”
Injecting my mouth with dark blood
poison
Tasting the sweet syrup of bloody
night crimson
Dark smiles pulled at my blood
thirsty lips
As I dismembered his body, twelve
even splits
Judge me not, for this man was a
monster
He murdered my brother, my mother,
my father
So tonight as the black ravens
squack and titter
I kill this man on the night of
midwinter
Beth gave out
a shaky breath as she looked up briefly at Mason, her eyes frozen in shock.
Clearing her throat, she continued.
Hanging his limbs from the
branches of trees
I tie parts together into ones,
twos, and threes
As I knot the last part, his
bloody red skull
I walk over to him and gently I
pull
And with stained guilty lips
I brush his cold, dead mouth
With a darkened red
Poisonous kiss
Beth dropped the paper, letting it flutter to the floor. Mason
picked up the bottle again and popped open the lid. Beth slapped it out of his
hand, letting it skitter to the floor “Mason,
don’t you see?`! That bottle! It’s the poison!”
* * *
“What? Beth, I know that poem was creepy and all, and disgustingly graphic, but that doesn’t
mean it’s true! It’s probably just some crazy writer who felt like creeping out
people,” Mason reasoned. Beth shook her head, walking over to Mason.
“Think about it! Why would they seal that poem along with the
bottle? Why would they have a secret closet in a library? Don’t you see, Mason?”
Beth shouted, her eyes wild, her black hair covering half of her face.
Mason put a hand on Beth’s shoulder, trying to place logic in her
head. “Beth. It was just a poem. That’s all. There isn’t a creepy witch out to
get us.” For added measure, he picked up the bottle from the shelf and sloshed
it around. His eyes went wide, as he heard the sound of sloshing liquid.
Beth looked at him and crossed her arms over her chest, “See?”
There is no
way. No. No. No. No. “Maybe it’s just water.”
Beth’s eyes flared with
anger and she slapped him across the face. Hard.
“This poem is about a murder! This closet is a witch chamber!” She
screamed. Mason stared at her eyes, wide, his cheeks stinging from the impact
of the slap.
Mason looked away from her and shook his head, trying to ignore
her. Why does she care so much?
Beth’s eyes softened and she cupped his cheek in her hand, rubbing
her thumb across it softly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that…I just
wanted you to understand,” she whispered.
Mason looked at her eyes, clouded with worry. “It’s okay. I
believe you, now.” A bitter aftertaste filled his mouth at the lie. He held
back the urge to spit out the taste. Immediately, Mason wanted to tell her he
was lying, but as he looked at the excited glitter in Beth’s stunning blue
eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to say it.
“Really?” She whispered, her eyes filling with tears of joy. Mason
gulped, his eyes not leaving hers, “Really.”
Beth beamed, and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. Mason rested
his head on her shoulder and looked at the shelf in front of him. “Maybe we
should look around and see what else we can find,” He said.
Beth pulled back and nodded. But after a moment, she bit her lip,
and dropped her gaze to the ground.
“What is it?” Mason asked, suddenly worried.
“Well…I was just thinking,
maybe we should keep this to ourselves.”
Mason looked at her, “What do you mean?”
Beth looked down, not meeting his eyes, “I mean, maybe we
shouldn’t tell anyone about the chamber, or the poem, or the poison.”
Mason gave her a suspicious glance, “Why not?” Beth looked up at
him, and a playful smile tugged at her lips, “So it can be our little secret,
of course.” Mason gulped, “Okay. Um…do you want to keep looking for more
things?”
Beth smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck, “Sure.”
* * *
Osynliga. Dod dryck. Hypnotisera. Maskar dryck. These were only some of the foreign names scrawled on the labels
of the chamber’s knick-knacks.
Mason sat cross-legged on the dirty floor,
scanning the items inside the cabinet he found. Stacks of old papers and boxes
cluttered the inside. Mason pulled out a dusted box and with gentle fingers
shuffled through the photos and papers. His eyes caught sight of a photograph
of a stunning woman. He squealed, and dropped the photo to the ground, running
away from the box.
“Mason? What
are you doing?” Beth laughed, looking up from the old book she had found.
“Nothing. I
just…I thought…I saw a mouse.” Mason lied, swallowing in gulps of air.
Beth furrowed
her brow, “You’re weird.” And with that, she went back to her book.
Slowly, Mason went back to the box, and with shaky fingers picked
up the photo again. He tried to control his breathing, as I stared at abyss of
bosky green eyes. Turning the photo over, he read the name sprawled on the
back. The year read 1872. Mason set the
photo down, shuddering. Sifting through the box, he pulled out another stack of
ancient photos.
He shuffled through the yellowing photos, his eyes widening in
disgust. Each photo had a big red X over each face, until he reached the last
photo, a man, his face circled many times in ancient red ink.
“Beth! Look at this!” He motioned her over, hiding the photo of
the woman with green eyes under his shirt, keeping it for himself.
Beth sat down beside him, looking over his shoulder. “Woah. Are
those people?” Mason nodded, his eyes not leaving the photo of the circled man.
“I think these were her victims…” Mason whispered. As he spat out
the words he realized that the fib he told Beth before was no longer untrue. He
did believe her now.
“What about that guy?” Beth asked, pointing to the photo of the
man. “Maybe he was the last one?” Mason suggested, his eyes boring holes in the
crusted yellow photograph.
Beth shook her head, “I doubt it, if he was her last kill,
wouldn’t she want to come back to add an X to him to?”
“Maybe she didn’t make it back,” Mason said.
“Maybe,” Beth agreed, nodding her head. Mason looked at her and
saw something in her eyes that told something, but he wasn’t sure what.
Beth stretched, standing up, “Anyway, that is cool, but I’m going
to go back to her Book Of Spells,” she said, walking backwards, a playful smile
on her lips.
Mason shook his head, and went back to looking through the photos.
He picked up another stack, and suddenly, a paper fell out from the stack, but
it wasn’t a photo.
He kissed me
today. I have never in my life been as disgusted as I was then. I shoved back
the monster inside me screaming to attack, and listened to the logical
conscious that told me honesty. I waited. When I got back to the chamber, I
opened up the book, scanning mother’s old spells, until finally, I found it.
When I finished the potion, I sent him a letter telling him to meet me in the
woods. I am leaving now. By the time you get this letter, the job I have been
waiting for will finally be done.
Mason crumpled up the paper and threw it in the box. He tugged at
his hair and held back a scream. He needed out. He needed out now. “Beth? I’m…I’m not feeling so good.
Maybe we should leave.”
Beth looked up, a look of serene on her face, “But we are having
so much fun! Do you think you can stay a little longer?”
Mason stared at her as she came towards him, a white angel in the
midnight black chamber. “No. I’m sorry, Beth. Maybe we can come back tomorrow.”
He stood up, and with a soft pat, the photo hidden under his shirt fell to the
ground.
Mason’s heart hammered in his chest, and he could feel the blood
pumping in his ears. Beth looked at him as she crouched down to pick up the
photo, and a smile Mason had never seen before flooded her lips.
“This was your little secret?” She whispered, closing the distance
between them. Her eyes were dark and she threw the photo to the ground. “If
only you had gotten away with it,” She rasped.
She smashed her lips against his, and the last thing Mason saw was
her blue eyes sparking a bosky green glow.
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