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Garrett shifts as well, pressing his massive frame into the window, filling it entirely, “I’m telling you man, you can’t be here. You’re not welcome anymore. Or ever again.”
There is no mistaking Garrett’s tone and fear briefly crosses over the monster’s eyes. Garrett leans closer, proving his dedication to the cause and the monster slowly backs away with a glare.
With him gone, Garrett locks the window in place and braces it closed with a heavy wooden board, “He won’t stay gone forever, but we’ve bought you some time to figure out what to do next.” Garrett gives the ladies a shrug of his shoulders and a kind smile.
Callie smiles back, “Well, we’re crazy if we think he’s not going to keep trying. Let’s get you out of here until we can figure out what next looks like. Would you be comfortable staying with a friend tonight? Somewhere he wouldn’t look for you?”
Emily squeezes her eyes shut. She would like to ask to stay with this mountain of a man because that seems safest, but knows that option is likely off the table. Then she knows.
“Willow and Raven. I know I can go there and I know it’s safe.” She giggles to herself, “They’re magical.”
Callie and Garrett share a look and shrug their shoulders. Emily smiles at her private joke.
Sam has never driven her familiar dirt road quite so fast.
She left school immediately upon seeing that Emily was gone. There was no way she could attend a class in this state and she’s probably suspended by now anyway. She drives straight home, throws herself out of her truck, and heads straight for the barn.
Placing a random canvas on her easel and throwing on a paint-smeared smock, she sets to work streaking the canvas with black lines of contempt and anger. She feels it all so deep in her body, she has to get it out. The guilt in her soul is also immense and she had wanted to make Emily’s house her first stop, but she knows her current mindset is the absolute last thing Emily needs in her life right now. Plus, Willow promised Emily would be in good hands. All Sam can currently do is hope Willow is right. She’ll stop at Emily’s on her way to work in a bit. She will make it right. She has to make it right.
With that sentiment in mind, Sam passes her brush past the blacks, reds, and oranges on her watercolor palette and instead settles on a soft blue that she smears into a deep green beside it. Spreading this new teal color across the blank canvas, she sees the calm she wants to be for her friend. She sees the promise of safety for a girl she loves like a sister. Adding in a streak of purple now, Sam sees a bridge to moving forward. They can make it beyond this. She can feel that transition in the swirling of colors before her.
Standing back and taking a deep breath, Sam contemplates this new piece in front of her and tries to decipher where to take it next. So totally engrossed, she can see nothing but what this piece will become. She does not hear the crunch of gravel and shuffle of hay behind her. She doesn’t gauge the darkening of the atmosphere all around her. She doesn’t know what is about to befall her until his arm comes around her neck, securing her into a strangling choke hold. She gasps just as his strength cuts off her air supply.
“No way am I letting you get away with that little show today. No fucking way,” he leers into her ear as his grip on her tightens.
His voice turns her blood ice cold. Basic human instinct kicks in and Sam is one hundred percent fight over flight. Every fight she has ever fought against her older brothers flashes through her mind in an instant and she chooses her plan of attack like it’s second nature. Latching onto his arm with both hands, Sam leans forward into the arm securing her in place, moving her body away from his. With the new space she’s created, Sam sweeps her foot up behind her and into his groin with enough force that his grip loosens enough to let her free. She gasps for breath and stumbles away. Not even giving her a second to catch her breath, he charges at her with unbelievable speed and strength fueled by pain, fury, and the limitless reach of his black soul.
They tumble to the ground and he attempts to pin her down. She refuses to let him and pummels him over and over anywhere her fists can find a place to land. He groans out his fury and punches a hard fist of his own into her face. The impact is enough to make her body go limp beneath him. The pain is searing and her whole world goes fuzzy. He slams another fist against her face. Again and again and again. So many times, she loses count.
Soon there is a high-pitched shrieking sound filling her ears, but she cannot see or think to process what it is. She tries to open her eyes but sees only red. The pain only becomes worse as the moments of uncertainty and repeating hits pass by. Has it been minutes? Hours? Days? She has no clue, only registers the heavy weight on her body and constant thuds against her consciousness.
She wonders to herself, is this dying?
Rumors of the big hallway fight spread like wildfire as soon as last period began. It took all of twenty seconds for Raven to know she needed to find her sister, Sam, and Emily. She didn’t even let the yells of her science teacher slow her down as she fled the classroom mid-lecture. She found Willow immediately, both seeking out the other. Willow laid out all the gory details for her and let her know she was going to find materials to protect Emily in any way she can. Raven offered to go find Sam and make sure she is okay as well. She had still been billowing with fury when she had left. Once reunited and better prepared, they would all find Emily together. Willow felt certain Callie was making her way to Emily already anyway.
The anger boiling off of Sam is so thick, it seems to have left a trail of heavy wisps for Raven to follow. Peddling her bike as fast as it will go, Raven follows the dirt road that leads to Sam’s house. Her hope is that at least one of Sam’s brothers is home to take her aggression out on, but she has a sinking, sickening feeling that Sam is alone and not okay. The closer she gets, the deeper the dread sinks in and the faster her feet peddle.
Slinging herself into the driveway, Raven gasps at the thundering orange clouds swarming the barn. She throws her bike to the ground and runs full speed to the open doors.
At first glimpse, she isn’t sure what she’s seeing. There is a man on the ground straddling someone. Punch after punch, the man pummels the small, still frame beneath him. Then it all clicks in Raven’s brain.
It’s him and that is Sam’s lifeless body beneath him.
Without even thinking, Raven grabs the first heavy object she can get her hands on and rushes toward them. Cold metal hay hook in her hands, Raven throws it around his neck in hopes of knocking him off her friend and maybe injuring him enough to slow him down. She uses every ounce of might she has ever contained in her tiny body and watches in awe as blood spurts from his throat and he quickly reaches for his neck. With a deep groan, he slumps forward, yanking Raven still holding the hook with him. Climbing to her feet again, she uses the makeshift weapon to drag him off of her friend.
Dropping to her knees at Sam’s side, Raven tries to rouse her. Sam’s eyes and face are swollen. Bruises are already rising to the surface of her skin. What Raven can see of her skin anyway… There is a sheen of blood smeared across her brutalized features, “Sam? Wake up, Sam! Come on, look at me and wake up!”
Opening her swollen eyes, Sam blinks up at her. Raven takes in the blank look of confusion on her friend’s face. The idea of a cartoon with stars circling its head seems like reality right now as Sam appears to have no idea where or who she even is. Giving her patience, Raven watches the changing and shifting colors surrounding her friend until they all calm and a little piece of her consciousness comes back to her eyes. Blinking harder now and wincing with pain, Sam tries to sit up, “Where… what… what happened?”
Raven’s glance falls to the boy crumpled on the ground beside them and Sam’s gaze follows. He is still giving the occasional twitch that might betray life, but the immense puddle of blood pooled under him says there is likely no coming back from his injuries.
Together, in unison, the girls realize the gravity of their situation and utter one word, “Shit.”
The scene in the kitchen stopped around four am, but there was no way anyone was going back to sleep anytime soon. Instead, they went to work, each taking on their own role to bring peace back to the night.
Raven works to build a stronger perimeter of protection all around them; lines of salt at the windows and doors, sage burning in all four corners of the room, witch bells on the door knobs. She isn’t sure how the initial layers she placed yesterday didn’t work but is taking no chances this time. Sam and Emily begin putting the room back together. Emily gently puts everything in its place with trembling hands. Sam slams cabinet doors, throws utensils back in drawers, and angrily chucks broken dishes into the trash. Both processing in their own ways. Callie sets to work to give comfort in any way she can think of, both coffee and tea, wanting to be the caretaker, always.
When the kettle screams its readiness she removes it from the heat, places it gently on a hot pad, and lays all her cards on the table, “He’s just trying to scare us and we’re not going to let him. Period.” The other women look up and gaze at their friend, “We’re going to take control this time and we’re going to end this. When the sun comes up. I say we go to him and deal with whatever he throws at us. There has to be a way. And it’s a lot better than waiting for him to come for us again.”
