Chapter 1
The clock on her phone ticked over to 2:15am but Rio paid it little mind. It was the weekend, so it wasn’t like she had to get up early in the morning. She had suffered from insomnia for a few years, anyway. Staring mindlessly at her phone to pass the time was hardly a new thing.
The sound of a distant squeak of a door, promptly followed by that of footsteps across a creaky floor. The noise brought a wave of annoyance and Rio stifled a sigh. Her mother. She was going to barge into her room and yell at her for staying up late. Again.
Rio would rather avoid that.
She tossed her phone face down onto her bedside table and rolled over onto her side. Back toward the door. And pulled the blankets over her shoulder. She kept her eyes opened as she waited. Her mother could be so-called ‘testing’ her. Storm up to her door and stand outside of it to intimidate her into compliance. Wouldn’t be the first time.
The footsteps, however, were oddly…quiet. Her mother could care less if she awoken her or disturb her. For any reason. It was her house; she was the only one allowed to storm through in in rage. Or simply out of boredom.
Rio furrowed her brow, a feeling of unease settling itself in her stomach. Something did not feel right. Or normal.
She snapped her eyes shut when she heard the doorhandle of her room slowly turn. A light rattle. It was as if her mother was purposely trying to be quiet. She had never done such a thing before. Not in the whole sixteen years she had been alive.
Another form of intimidation?
Rio’s hearing was hypersensitive. She heard the silent creak of the doorhandle as it clicked open. She heard the slow opening of the door as her mother uncharacteristically tried to push it open without alerting her to her presence. And she heard her as she stepped cautiously into her room.
Something did not feel right.
Rio unconsciously squeezed her eyes shut tighter when she felt her mother stop right next to her bed. Behind her. She willed herself to stay as still as possible. But there was something inside of her telling her to move. To get up and run away. Hide. Do something. Not just lay there.
Why was she feeling so…afraid?
Sharp pain suddenly erupted against the side of her head. A deep heavy weight fell upon her, causing stars to appear behind her eyelids and a high-pitched ringing in her ears. The only thing that registered in her mind was pain. Aggressive, smothering pain.
Had…something struck her?
Rio tried to scream. She tried to move. But her body refused to respond. Yet, despite the oblivion of pain and confusion, she felt herself move. She felt something grab her by her shoulder and the soft comfort of her bed was replaced with something cold and hard. The smell of dust and wood infiltrated her nose.
The pain in her head returned ten-fold and the sparkling lights in her eyes abruptly disappeared. Plunging her into a smothering darkness.
Open her eyes. She needed to open her eyes.
It took so much effort to lift her eyelids. The world was dark. Tilted. She caught a glimpse of a barely lit hallway. The hallway outside her bedroom. But it was moving. Bit by bit. In front of her were a pair of arms.
Her arms.
Flat against the ratty hallway rug. Her fingers grazing across the floor. Moving in short bursts. As if she was…being dragged. Step by step.
Rio’s vision waned, plunging into darkness once more. The pain in her head had grown…unfathomable. Deep seated but intense. Piercing but diluted.
It…hurt so much.
Her eyes flickered open once more. It was so dark. She didn’t recognise it. There were…trees. Her fingers raked against the ground. Dirt, twigs, dead and dried leaves. Moving through the shadows in short bursts.
Drag then stop. Drag and then stop.
She felt things against her skin. Scraping, cutting, slicing – each time she moved, each time she was moved, she felt things graze against her skin.
Rio’s vision waned again, mindlessly noting how tall the trees were in the distance. Growing fainter. Her head hurt. Her chest ached. She felt so cold.
The need to simply…allow for something to happen was strong. But through the pulsating ringing in her ears, she heard something. Something whispered to her. To open her eyes once again.
The world was hazy. Tilted to the side. The high-pitching screeching in her ears grew in intensity. The scene before her didn’t make sense. A cracked stone ceiling, shadows flickering and dancing. The pungent smell of rot and wet soil. Air felt stifled.
Her mother’s face, blurry and distorted, suddenly appeared in front of her. Black hair fell over her shoulders as she…glared down at her. Despite her disorientation, despite the pain thrumming in her head, Rio knew her mother’s face was twisted into an expression that was nothing short of menacing.
A wicked smile spread widely across her mother’s lips as she raised her arms above her head. There was something in her hands. Something thin and silver. It…glistened under the shifting orange lights.
Rio’s vision darkened into a dense, suffocating black. Her last glimpse being that of her mother as she tightened her arms and brought them down from over her head.
Everything in Rio screamed at her not to move. To just lay there and be still. To give into the darkness once more.
But…she couldn’t. There was a sense of urgency growing inside of her. Growing stronger than the throbbing pain in her head. Louder than the thrumming in her ears. Move, move, she had to move.
Rio’s eyes were heavy, gritty. Uncooperative.
A stubborn, rebellious little bitch. That was what her mother called her. Told her every time she did something she didn’t like. Which was everything. Everything was an act of rebellion. And this was no different.
Her mother…did something. To her. It had to have been her mother’s doing. Her fault. The pain, the disorientation – it was all her fault. All her fault.
Rio’s vision was blurry, the vision growing and waning with each throbbing pulse of pain in her head. That stone ceiling greeted her again. Still cracked, with shadows flickering sporadically across the grey stone.
Her head hurt so much, so she moved slowly. Allowing her head to roll to the side. Allowing her to turned her compromised visions to the world around her. But nothing she saw made sense. Candles, both black and red, were lit and scattered across a stone cement room. Brownish red colouring stained the walls and ground. The distinct smell of metal mixed with dust.
She was outside. Probably in the woods out the back of her home. Isolated, dense woodlands. A place she didn’t know all that well. Was there a stone building somewhere? Was that where she was?
Where was…her mother?
Rio’s head swam with confusing thoughts. Short glimpses of moments she had endured. She was alone. That was…good. Her mother was the one who attacked her, dragged through the house, through the woods. Who…did something else. To her.
What…? What did she do? What happened?
She had to move. It was going to hurt. But she had to sit up. Leave before her mother returned.
Though her body ached in protest, Rio pushed herself, shakily forcing herself to her feet. Little cuts and scraps littered her exposed skin. Blood and dirt everywhere. Her head throbbed lowly and as she gingerly touched her temple with trembling fingers, she felt the a grimly stickiness. Dried blood greeted her as she pulled back her hand.
Her head…she must have been struck with something. Something heavy. By her own mother.
Rio’s gaze flickered down toward the ground at her feet. Where something was etched into the cement. A black circle with strange writings and markings. She did not know what it was exactly, but she knew it was a pentagram.
And not one that edgy teens and urban explorers would do for fun.
Had her mother…had she really tried to kill her?
Rio’s breathing hitched in her throat as fear washed over her. That was what happened, wasn’t it? That image of her mother leaning over her, with something in her hands. She had…really tried…
She needed to leave. She needed to run away. Into the woods. They were safer. They had to be.
Rio’s steps were sluggish with a trembling gait, one that held both urgency and hesitation. There were candles all around her. Some lit, others weren’t. But near the opening, what she assumed was the doorway sat a small lantern. Old fashioned, lit by only a single candle and oddly that candle was white. But it was something she could use. To light her way.
Twigs and stones stabbed into the bottom of her bare feet and the night air was cold against her skin. With her dressed in only her pyjamas, that of a pair of shorts and a simple tank top, it was little wonder the chill immediately got to her.
The light from the lantern wasn’t very bright, just enough to illuminate her immediate area. But it gave her a sense of comfort, nevertheless. The woods around her were dark. Pitch black. She had never seen anything so dark. The glow of her lantern bathed her in a golden light. And as she moved, caused shadows to dance from the corners of her eyes.
She hadn’t a clue where she was. Only that she was out in the forest. Surrounded by trees and silence. There was truly nothing to be heard. Nothing but her feet scuffing across the ground as she shuffled unsurely forward.
A flicker of movement from her left caused Rio to wince and frantically spin around, whimpering as her body screamed at her in protest. But she ignored that, focused on ensuring that her mother was not around. That nothing was around.
She then noticed something. On the ground in front of her. It looked like a book. Something that was unlikely to be of any use to her. But something drew her into approaching it. To pick it up and study it. So, she set the lantern down and gathered up the leatherbound book. The edges were weathered and faded, done from old age.
But some of the pages appeared to be missing. It did not feel as heavy as it should.
Despite her thumping head, despite the darkness around her, despite everything, Rio flicked off the leather strap, lifted the cover, and ran her gaze over the first page.
’I hereby anoint this journal to be my Book of Shadows.’
Book of shadows? What the hell was that?
Rio decided that the book was important. There wasn’t any particular reason why. It was empty saved for that first page. But that writing was…familiar, somehow. She could almost feel the ego dripping from each word.
There was a keyring and leather strap attached to the book as well, something that allowed her to slip it over her shoulder to carry.
Her body screamed in protest once more as Rio stood up. Her head swam from the sudden movement and her world tilted and greyed out for the longest minute. She just had to…blink through it. Stay still. Let it pass.
She felt so weak. And tired. All she wanted to do was lay down somewhere. To rest. But, again, for some inexplicable reason, she felt that she had to keep moving. One foot in front of the other.
The hairs on the back of her neck suddenly rose and Rio felt an ice cold wash over her. Her heart thundered in her ears and her breath came out in short, panicked gasps. It…it was more than unease. She was more than just scared.
She was petrified.
Rio whipped around to her left and raised the lantern in front of her. And froze.
In front of her. A mass of black. Vaguely human in appearance, but darker than even the darkest shadows around her. A shadowy figure. All that was visible within that mass was a pair of demonic red eyes. They pierced the darkness – and looked right into her soul.
Rio felt her heart stop as she stared openly at the thing before her.
A low growling sound was heard. Animalistic, yet unlike anything she had heard before. It took her a moment to realise that it was…laughing. A rumbling, demonic laughter.
It suddenly reached out toward her with its long, spindly arms.
Rio screamed.
A sound she had never heard before. Certainly not from herself. But it was ear-splitting, primal, and utterly guttural. Fear and terror mingled together into an unfathomable sound. It hurt; to hear it, to feel it, to know that it came directly from her.
A scream or pure, unadulterated horror.
She immediately spun around and ran. Ran down the path in a pure blind panic. The light of her lantern bouncing erratically, doing little to reveal the way before her. Just enough to know that she was racing heedlessly down a forest path.
What was that? What the hell was that thing? Was it real? Was that really real? A demon? A spirit?
“…This way…”
A quiet voice suddenly resounded in her head, through the erratic thumping of her rapid heartbeat. It startled her, but she kept running.
What? What was that? Who said that?!
“…Hurry…”
Hurry? Hurry where? Where was she supposed to go?!
“…The light…”
The light?
Rio realised that her gaze had been toward the ground as she ran mindlessly forward. She lifted her gaze enough to see a white pinprick of light in the distance. It was soft. Like a star in the night sky.
Safety? Was that a search light? Was someone looking for her?
She had no idea what that light was or where they were attempting to lead her, but she didn’t care one iota. Light, being able to see was what she needed the most. More than anything. And something within her told her that the lights were safety.
So, she focused on the light.
Keep moving. One foot in front of the other. Just run. Just keep running.
With her heart thundering in her chest and her pulse thumping in her ears, Rio felt dizzy. Disorientated. Her vision was blurred from the tears that steaked her dirt and blood covered cheeks.
But she kept moving. It was all she could think to do. Just…move.
Rio squeezed her eyes shut tightly to blink the tears away. When she opened them again, an wholly unexpected sight greeted her.
Candles.
There were candles everywhere. In the trees, lining the natural path. Together in groups of three. All lit. And all were white in colour. Unlike the candles she had seen in that…place, she didn’t feel uneasy or threatened. The bright light, the warmth they emitted was comforting.
Rio slowed in her steps and gasped for air. Shakily she staggered forward, into the centre of the clearing, surrounded by candlelight.
It was…beautiful.
She still felt like throwing up, though.
Clutching her chest, Rio skittishly scanned her surroundings. Where her gaze fell upon something hanging from a low hanging branch. A…necklace. Of chains and beads. And a holy symbol at its apex.
She recognised it.
Rio unwittingly dropped the lantern to the ground as she staggered forward toward the tree. Without hesitation, she reached up with her stained hands and carefully untangled the necklace from the leaves.
It was…the rosary that her grandmother had given her. It was hers, but she had gifted it to her. To tell her that they were family, no matter what happened. And the moment she turned eighteen, she could flee from her mother and to her. Her grandmother would welcome her with open arms, to show her the world as it was meant to live.
Rio had wanted so badly to live with her grandmother. She was warm, kind, patient – everything her own mother never was. Would never be.
Oh, grandma. She was so scared and confused. What happened? What did her abusive mother do to her?
“…the hatchet…”
What? That voice. She heard it before when she first saw the lights.
“…rosary…to hatchet…”
Rosary to…hatchet? What hatchet? What did that mean?
A sudden flicker of candlelight to her right propelled Rio to skittishly snap her head to the side. Where her gaze inexplicably fell upon another object. Resting amongst a grouping of candles at the base of a tall, sturdy tree.
She approached and without much thought, leaned forward and picked it up with her right hand. A…hatchet?
Was she…supposed to tie her rosaries around the hatchet? Why?
“…Defence…”
Defence…from that thing? Were there more? Was that how she could get rid of those…things?
“…Yes…”
Alright.
Rio had absolutely no idea what that voice was or why she was going to listen to it, but she carefully tied the beaded necklace around the handle, letting it rest against the metal head of the hatchet.
It was stupid, but at least she had a weapon. She had never used one before. Not even to chop wood. But she would get the hang of it. She had to.
The weight of the makeshift weapon in her hands was actually comforting. She had something to hold onto. Something to use. And the rosaries, filled with her grandmother’s unconditional love and warmth would cut through any darkness. She just knew it would.
Out. She wanted out of this stupid forest.
Rio took a moment to inspect her surroundings once more. A part of her wanted to stay. Stay with the candles, with the warmth and light they provided. But there was an urge within her. To once again move.
Move forward. One foot in front of the other.
As she turned her head to the side, she noticed that there was another pathway leading from the clearing. And though the darkness swallowed trail, she saw that there was another pinprick of light in the distance. Just like the first. A small dot of starlight.
She…had to find it.
Just one foot in front of the other.
It…it was so cold, though. And dark. The tall trees with their gnarled branches and limbs seemed to reach out toward her. Any one of them, maybe even all of them wanted to grab her. Attack her. Hurt her.
Rio felt her breath hitch harshly in her throat when something stepped upon the path in front of her. Darkner than the shadows. Darker than the night.
Red eyes.
A strangled scream unwittingly escaped Rio’s lips, a sound of surprise and fear. But she didn’t turn and run. Her hands tightened into a steel-like grip around the handle of the hatchet and she raised it up. With a wild swing, she aimed it toward the thing in front of her.
She had half expected for the hatchet to simply slide through the thing. Striking nothing. But she felt resistance. She had hit something. Something solid and physical.
And upon the high-pitched shriek that followed, she had hurt it.
It…disappeared as the hatchet sliced through it. The bitter cold of its presence was gone with it.
A weapon. The rosary…it worked. Defence. It was her defence. Just like that voice said.
With a new found, probably completely delusional sense of reassurance, Rio made the moment to keep moving. Only for her foot, though numb from pain, to rest against something. She immediately looked down and despite the darkness, she was able to make the object out.
A piece of paper?
The moment her brushed her fingertips against it to pick it up, she knew that it had something to do with her mother. It held that bitterness and cold. That same presence that could suck the warmth and colour from any room.
Eerily, the words on the piece of paper…glowed a deep red. Almost like blood. But it allowed her to study it. To read it. And she immediately recognised her mother’s handwriting.
’Mother keeps trying to take the brat away. Even taking me to court! Me, of all people! She is under the delusions that the brat is supposed to live. She hasn’t the faintest idea that the brat is nothing more than a means to an end.’
…That was about her. There was absolutely no doubt that the entry was written by her mother and was talking about her and grandma.
A brat, huh? One of the kindest things she had ever called her.
Rio rubbed her eyes with the back of her right hand, brushing away the tears and the blood and dirt that caked her cheeks. She shoved the note into the book hanging by her side, and then drew in a deep breath and readjusted her hold on the hatchet.
“We can do this, Grandma,” she whispered. “I’ll make it home. To you. I promise.”
Just one foot in front of the other.
The light remained in the distance. Flickering softly. It was the only source of light. The only anything she could focus on. The trail was just so dark.
And it darkened further when something appeared, literally out of nowhere, right in front of her.
Rio didn’t hesitate; she raised the hatchet and swung with all her might, a scream of surprised wedged in her throat. She instinctively aimed for the head. The piercing, glowing red eyes were really the only thing she could identify from the thing.
Again, she felt a slight resistance and heard a high-pitch, inhuman shriek. And the thing was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
She watched in muted surprise as a piece of paper floated from where that entity had stood. It danced in the air, swaying back and forth before it landed soundlessly upon the ground.
It was just like the first piece of paper she found. It…belonged to the journal. It was her mother’s.
Despite herself, Rio reached down and picked it up. Again, the letters glowed with a low red light, tracing each word and pen stroke. Menacing and harsh. Ironic, as it symbolised her mother completely.
’One must suffer before reaping bountiful rewards. That spawn sets to test me at every turn. But that’s all it is; a test. To prove my worth as a Priestess of Darkness. It’s all for my goal. Just a little bit longer.’
Priestess of Darkness? What a joke! Of course, that stupid egomaniac would see herself as some kind of powerful woman deemed worthy of worship!
…Her goal, the title, the book of shadows, the pentagram on the floor; her mother was deeply invested in witchcraft and the occult. But what did any of that had to do with her? What did she do? Why now?
A flicker of light in the distance caught Rio’s attention and she was greatly surprised to see that the pinprick of light she had been following had somehow drew closer to her. An orange glow, soft and low, beckoned her forward. To keep moving.
Just…one foot in front of the other.
A small clearing of white candlelight. So soft and warm. Just like the first site she stumbled across. Gentle flickering candles, grouped together in small bundles of three.
They appeared gathered around a particular spot, though. Despite the situation, Rio found herself stumbling forward once more. Over to the small grouping. Where a square piece of paper was nestled on the grass.
Wait, no, it was a photograph.
With a trembling hand, Rio reached forward and carefully picked up the photo. Her bottom lip trembled on a quiet sob as she recognised the two figures. One was of her and the other was a beautiful blonde-haired young woman.
On the back of the photo, she found a handwritten note; ’Sneak out of your room tonight and I’ll pick you up. I got some clothes for you since I know your mother refuses to do anything for you. We’ll have some hot chocolate while we talk!’
Tears appeared in Rio’s eyes and rapidly flowed over her cheeks.
Lynda…oh, Lynda. Her cousin. Her confidant. Her big sister. She was a couple of years older than her, but Rio had no idea where she would be without her. Without her kindness. Her positivity. Her understanding.
They had it all planned out. Rio’s escape from her mother on the day of her eighteenth birthday. She was going to drive around at midnight to pick her up. Fill her tiny car with everything that Rio owned, which wasn’t all that much honestly, and then drive. Drive her away. Take her away. To Lynda’s family, to Rio’s grandmother.
It was to be a beautiful day. A glorious one. Her first taste of true freedom. And love.
Rio unwittingly dropped the hatchet as she covered her mouth with her hand. Tears flowed unimpeded from her eyes, blurring her vision further. Amplifying the thumping in her head. Increasing the pain of exertion in her chest.
She wanted…she wanted to go to Grandma. She didn’t want to be in this stupid forest with those…things! She wanted to be warm. Safe. With Grandma and Grandpa taking care of her.
She wanted…
Rio drew in a deep breath and rugged her eyes with her forearm. If she wanted out, she had to keep moving. One step at a time.
One foot in front of the other.
“Ok, Lynda, I’m going to make it to that hot chocolate, I promise. And…and after that, let’s go clothes shopping. Y-you…you always pick out the best clothes.”
She picked up the hatchet and carefully placed the photo in the leather bound book she carried, and turned away, toward the other path leading away from the clearing. The darkness frightened her once more, but she held her weapon ready. Grandma’s rosary will keep her safe from whatever those things were. She just needed to swing it.
No matter how much it hurt, no matter how tired she was, she was fighting back.
Another pinprick of light beckoned her in the distance. Just like the first and second. Twinkling softly.
And she knew what was coming next. She raised the hatchet up over her head just as a black mass, like smoke, formed in front of her. She didn’t think, she just reacted; she chopped the thing in the neck before even its menacing red eyes could intimidate her.
She lowered her weapon to her side as another piece of paper appeared. Again, it was written by her mother. A part of her could care less what that…that selfish woman wrote, yet the rest of her did. Just to know, to find out what that woman did to her.
’That brat truly is a demon spawn. I grow anxious for the day I can finally rid myself of her and receive my just reward! The pact had been years in the making, but it will be worth the wait!’
Pact…
A pact with something? From the shadows, from her words, from the existence of those creatures – a deal with a demonic entity. That had to be the purpose for…everything.
Rio was torn. She knew her mother to be selfish and abusive, but…was she stupid enough to try to make contact with something demonic and then make a deal with it?
…Yes. Yes, she was.
But what did Rio have to do with anything?
More notes. She needed to find more notes to truly understand what was going on. What was happening to her. What her so-called mother did to her.
She shoved the journal entry into the supposed Book of Shadows and turned her gaze down the path once more. And again, a gentle light summoned her quietly. It had a magnetic pull on her, propelling her to just walk.
She sighed with relief as she stepped into the glow of white candles once more. For a moment, she could breathe. Let the tension ease from her aching, fragile shoulders.
And once more, a natural altar of sorts drew her curiosity. She had found the rosary and hatchet, and photograph in such a place. Was there something else of hers nestled by the candles?
Though her legs were aching, each step growing more exhausting and painful, she moved forward once more. Amongst the candles was a folded wade of paper. As she picked it up and unfurled it, an unexpected smile twitched at the corners of her lips.
It was her science test from school. Hah, top marks. Quite an achievement for her. She was actually proud of herself.
Mr. Anderson. He was her favourite teacher. He made science fun. Made school a little easier for her. He saw how hard she tried. He would never shame her, reprimand her for merely existing. He actually praised her accomplishments. She had met his wife, too. A special aid teacher. She was so nice.
They were…the parents Rio had wanted for herself.
“Mr. Anderson…I’m going to ace the next science test, too, I promise.” Tears appeared in her eyes once more. “I’ll study really hard and make you proud. It’s as you said, I can accomplish anything. And I will. I will…by leaving this horrid forest.”
One step at a time.
One foot in front of the other.
Rio rubbed at her eyes again to remove the tears before she squared her shoulders and moved through the clearing, and toward the path leading into darkness once more. But she felt more confident, more determined in her steps. Her grandmother’s rosary, the photo of her cousin, and her highly scored test pushing her forward.
She didn’t even scream when another dark entity manifested in front of her. She actually felt…annoyed. Those things were slowing her down. Trying to terrify her.
They were just getting in her way.
She swung the hatchet from her side, the bladed head cutting effortlessly through the neck of the red-eyed entity. Another shriek and the fluttering of paper soon followed.
Again, it was a short journal entry from her mother.
’What a rebellious little bitch! She dares to talk back to me? The Priestess of Darkness? The one who brought her into this world? I cannot wait to take her out of it, too. That will be an act I will find the greatest joy in.’
That brought a wry smile to Rio’s lips. Rebellious little bitch, indeed. She liked that title. She was proud of it.
And leaving this stupid forest will be her best act of rebellion ever!
Rio shoved the note into the Book of Shadows. She gripped her weapon tightly as she looked forward. And saw a familiar gentle golden light. Another clearing of candles. A place for a short rest.
She hurried her steps, ignoring how her body ached in protest. When she entered the clearing, she released a deep sigh. She was grateful for the respite, but…how many of these did she have to go through? Where did they come from? Who created them? What was even happening?
Why…couldn’t she just go home?
Another small altar of candles caught her attention and she wandered over slowly, her aches growing increasingly bothersome. She tried her best to push her troubled thoughts aside and looked between the white candles.
She tilted her head to the side in curiosity as she picked up a paper flower. Origami. Red and green paper. Really well done. And on the green petal was a short string of words.
’Thanks for standing up for me.’
She remembered now. Jessina, the new girl, she was being picked on by the cliché popular girls. For no reason in Rio’s mind. Not that there was ever a good reason to bully someone. She had to step in. She never liked those girls, anyway. That was the day she was labelled as difficult and aggressive.
But she didn’t care.
Rio idly twirled the paper flower between her fingers. “That’s right, stand up against bullies. Any bully and every bully no matter who they are.”
Stand up and fight back.
She placed the paper flower behind her ear, a token to help her concentrate. She had no idea how many more paths she needed to tread or how many things she needed to hack away with her hatchet, but she had to keep moving. To spite her mother, to return to those who actually love her, and to return to her own life.
One foot in front of the other.
Yet, something felt…different. The dark path and towering trees felt far more menacing. The darkness suppressive. And cold…incredibly cold.
A sharp pain in the centre of her chest staggered Rio in her steps. She instinctively pressed a hand against the centre of her chest. And she felt something. Something moist and warm. The darkness inhabited her vision, but she knew that her hand was covered in blood. Her blood.
Rio felt sick. Her breathing grew erratic as an overwhelming cold enveloped her.
“It’s fruitless, you know.”
That…that wasn’t the voice from before.
Rio grasped her hatchet and held it in a defensive stance as she scanned her surroundings. Yet, to her complete surprise, the tight, thin paths had expanded into a field. The trees still surrounded her, creating a menacing prison.
“Wh-who’s there?”
“Fighting is futile.”
That voice resounded in her head, yet it echoed around her, too. Chilling and haunting. Nothing like that other voice. “Where are you?!”
As Rio skittishly gripped her hatchet and turned around in a circle in a desperate and frantic attempt to scan her surroundings, she jumped when something fluttered from seemingly nowhere. And dropped at her feet.
It was a piece of paper. Just like the others. From her mother.
Despite herself, despite the cold dread that had her heart racing and breathing erratic, she bent down and picked up the paper. And ran her gaze over the ominous red letters.
It…was dated with today’s date.
’It’s the day! The day I regain my freedom and receive my reward. But first, I must do what has been asked of me, what was asked of me all those years ago – give up that brat’s soul. I made a pact; I made a deal. And after long last, I can finally rid myself of that brat and be powerful!’
…What?
“Your life has already ended. Fighting will gain you nothing in return.”
Rio’s breath hitched in her throat as cold realisation washed over her. “I’m…dead?” she whispered, the journal page slipping from her fingers.
The pain, blood, those dark entities, and that ruined stone room filled with strange, arcane symbols.
Had…had her mother used her as a sacrifice? A…life sacrifice?
“Died by your own mother’s hand. She had been planning it for quite a while now. I’d say, over sixteen years.”
Sixteen years…
To think that someone had been secretly plotting and eagerly anticipating her death. No, her murder. In a dark ritual, no less. For someone to hold such malice…she didn’t know what to think.
To be so hated…
And to be…born just to be used as a sacrifice. Destined for it.
She…
“…Not…yet…”
What? That voice again. That gentle voice. It…was so different.
“...Not dead yet…”
…Not dead yet? Was she…on the verge of dying? Was she in, what was it called, purgatory? Something like it?
…She wasn’t dead yet.
Rio unconsciously tightened her grip around the handle of the hatchet. “So, you’re the…thing my mother tried to make a pact with.”
“She had already sold you to me. The moment you were conceived was the moment you were promised to me.”
…Haha, so that was why she decided to keep her.
“You already should be plunged into the pits of despair and suffering. But there were…outside interference.”
Did it mean that voice that had been helping her? The candles? The personal items that mean so much to her?
“…Many more…”
Many more what?
Many more…people who cared about her? Grandma, grandpa, Lynda, aunty and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, her friends at school…
Sixteen years.
Her so-called mother had been plotting her death for sixteen years. Just so she could get some hocus pocus magic. All those days, all those weeks, all those years…just waiting to kill her off.
…There was absolutely no way she was going to let that evil woman get what she desired!
“No!” Rio yelled with a burning rage and defiance. “That woman always called me a defiant little bitch, and what do you know, she was actually right about something for once. I am defiant. I won’t allow you to destroy my soul. I have always rebelled against that woman, and this is no different! I won’t lose to you! Just to spite that woman once more!”
A large pair of piercing red eyes appeared suddenly from the far side of the shadowy field. They sliced through the darkness. A deep, fiery red. They cut straight through her. It was all she could see. Those eyes. Far too high off the ground to be human. Far to menacing to be anything from earth.
That…that was the thing that her mother sold her to?
“…fight…”
She was…she was terrified. But she was also angry. So angry.
A scream rumbled from her throat as she raised her weapon. “I’m not dead yet!”
She ran forward. Toward those eyes. She didn’t know why, didn’t understand the need to run, into danger. But that thing…that thing was trying to keep her in this forest. Wanted her to be swallowed by the darkness. Wanted her to suffer.
That was the thing her mother made a pact with.
And killed her for.
No, not yet. She wasn’t dead yet!
Shadowy beings suddenly appeared in the clearing with her. Placed between her and that demon thing. Dark figures. Black with vaguely human features. Just like the things she had encountered before.
She swung the hatchet wildly, striking the creature in the head. “Get out of my way!”
“You wield that weapon too willingly. Murderous rage toward your own mother.”
Rio struck down another entity that dared to get in her way. “Oh, shut up! You might be right; you might be wrong; it might seem like all I care about is ruining that evil woman’s plans. But do you know what would infuriate her more? Me living!”
“You carry such darkness. Such rage. Such hatred. You were destined for this.”
No…no, she refused. She was…angry. She was allowed to be angry. She never asked for any of this. No interest. She held no interest in the occult. In religion. With anything like that.
She…
Rio hacked and slashed at anything that dared to stand before her.
She didn’t deserve any of this!
“…Live…Choose to live…”
Live…
That was all she wanted.
“I want to go back. I’m not done yet. I want to see my friends again. I want to see grandma and grandpa. I want to see my cousin. I want to go clothes shopping. I want to go swimming. I want to…do things. A lot of things. And…I want to make sure that…that woman receives her earthly punishment, too!”
“You will never severe the pact.”
“…Severe it…you can…it…”
That voice. So kind, warm…special. For her. Just for her.
“That’s right, I am going to severe it! I don’t care what some so-called demonic lord says; I’m going to keep fighting! Even if my defiance was born from my hatred for that woman, I will continue to fight. Because I want to live!”
“That’s it, child! Show this evil how strong your soul truly is!”
Rio cut another entity in two before she skidded to a halt, her feet dragging over the rocky, uneven ground. She gripped the hatchet in one hand, and mustering up all the strength she had left in her, she threw it.
Toward those large red eyes.
“I will not suffer the punishment of that woman’s crimes!”
A loud shriek, high-pitched and unearthly, sliced through the air.
…The weight she had felt on her shoulders and back lifted. The shadows scurried away, slinking back into the dark forest. And a light enveloped her. A light so bright but warm. It made her feel weightless. As if she was floating.
It…didn’t hurt.
“It’s…over?”
“You did it, child.”
Rio released a slow breath and her eyelids felt heavy. “That voice again…Who are you?”
“Someone you need not be afraid of.”
…Ok.
“Rest now. Trials await you still, but you will survive. You will live. And it will be worth it.”
Rio’s eyes slid close and she felt a peace wash over her. Her weightlessness dissipated slowly, laying her down gently.
Before a crushing weight rammed into her. A gasp escaped her lips. Pain. Her arms, her limbs, her head…her chest. They felt so heavy. It…hurt.
“…got her…!”
“…she’s back…we got her back!”
Voices. Unlike the two she had heard before. They were…human. Male.
“Rio!”
That…was her grandmother’s voice. She sounded…distraught. Scared. No, terrified, her words desperate through her sobs.
Grandma…
She wanted to see her grandma.
Fight. She needed to fight for a little bit longer. It took all her strength to open her eyes. One eyelid at a time.
Though her vision was blurry, tilted in a way, she recognised the figure next to her. Grandma. Her grandmother leaned over her, her eyes red, her cheeks pale against the endless trails of tears.
“…I came back,” Rio whispered. “…Grandma, I came back…”
Grandma’s face crumbled, tears flowing from her eyes and over her cheeks, to drip upon Rio’s brow. “You did,” she sobbed as she gently ran her fingers through Rio’s hair. “You did. Such a brave, strong girl. We’ll get through this. One step at a time.”
Rio tried to smile. “One foot…in front of the other.”
Grandma released a loud sob and she lowered her head toward hers, resting her brow against Rio’s in a gentle, truly loving way. “Y-yes. Yes. One foot in front of the other…”
