––––––––
“Seriously?” Piper practically yelled at her phone. “What use is a BFF if she won’t even answer my calls?”
She had tried to call Alison four times now, and every time the phone went straight to voicemail. She hadn’t received one text message from her best friend during the entire weekend, whereas usually they bombarded each other with texts. She did receive a couple from Marcy and Kristina though, so it couldn’t be that her reception was bad. But why was Alison not picking up? Was she angry with Piper? And if so, why?
Piper was about to throw her cellphone on the floor when she realized that might not be the best idea after all. She could still call Marcy or Kristina and ask them to help figure this out.
Maybe not Kristina, though. She could already imagine how the latter would react. “What? You’re going to do a séance? That’s so old-school,” Kristina would say, with that big cheeky grin on her face. “Who are we going to summon? Dracula? Frankenstein?” Then she would laugh and Piper would be stuck with a real-life witch, a ghost whisperer, and a clown. No, thanks.
Marcy would make a nice replacement for Alison. Although she might not believe her completely either, Marcy would listen. Or so Piper hoped.
She dialed Marcy’s number, and waited until the phone went to voicemail as well.
Frustrated, Piper threw the phone down on the kitchen table. That’s when it hit her. She should call Joey. He already knew some pieces of what was going on, and he had been nice and supportive thus far. Granted, he might not believe the entire ghost story, but it was worth a try. And Alison would understand. At least, that’s what Piper hoped.
“Come on, pick up,” Piper urged as she dialed Joey’s number. It took him a while–five rings to be exact–but he did pick up.
“Piper?” Joey asked uncertainly from the other end of the line.
“Yes, it’s me,” Piper replied. “Can you...come over?”
“You...you want me to come over? To your place?” Joey asked, his voice soft and curious.
“Yes,” Piper answered, rolling her eyes. “I know it’s sort of short-notice and that you might find it odd, but I’d really like you to come over this evening. As soon as possible, really,” she added, keeping in mind that she still had to fill him in about what exactly was going on. Jeanne and Felicia would be there by seven p.m., and she had the feeling that the old witch didn’t like to be kept waiting. Piper’s mom had already told her she would be working late tonight, so at least that wouldn’t be a problem.
“I’ll be there in five,” Joey promised.
“All right.” Piper ended the call. She sat down at the kitchen table and waited for what were the longest five minutes in her life.
***
“What’s wrong?” were Joey’s first words as Piper abruptly opened the front door and urged him to enter her house. He looked as baffled as she felt, and she smiled apologetically at him.
“This is going to sound crazy,” she started, “but something is harassing me. Haunting me, in fact. I know I must seem out of my mind, but trust me on this one.”
She walked him to the kitchen and then urged him to sit down. “Coke? Iced tea?” she asked, as if this was a normal day and they were just going to hang out a bit rather than take on a battle with the forces of evil.
To his credit, Joey didn’t look at her as if she was absolutely insane. “Coke, please,” he said, his expression completely neutral.
Piper grabbed a Coca-Cola from the fridge and put it down in front of Joey, then collapsed into the chair on the other side of the table. “Just...try to believe me somehow, okay?” Piper asked.
“I will,” Joey promised.
“A couple of weeks ago, I discovered this old antique mirror in the attic of this house. You know how much I love antiques, so I decided to bring it down and hang it in my room. Biggest mistake of my life, I can assure you. Next thing I know I begin seeing things; things that couldn’t possibly be real...except that they are. I saw a shadowy figure in my room, I’ve heard unimaginable screams, you name it, I’ve been there, done that. But it gets worse.”
She paused for a second and looked at Joey to see if he had already burst out in laughter. He hadn’t, which gave her the courage to continue.
“I’ve done some research and found out that the family who lived here before me, the Spencers, had a daughter named Abigail who claimed the mirror was haunting her as well. One day, Abigail was found dead. They ruled it a suicide, but her family never believed it. So I went to visit her sister, Diane Spencer, who was still alive at the time. She’s dead now. But that’s beside the point. Diane told me that Abigail was harassed by the mirror. Although Diane didn’t believe it at first, she did when she began hearing things as well. I found Abigail’s diary, but some pages were missing. Friday, the nurse who looked after Diane called me and said she wanted to talk to me urgently. So I took off to the nursing home. Diane gave me an envelope holding the lost pages of Abigail’s diary. She also gave me three warnings from her sister–yes, from the beyond.” Piper decided to skip the fact that Diane was already dead when she had delivered those messages.
She didn’t want Joey to think she had utterly and completely lost it. Not that the other things she was about to say sounded any saner.
“So this weekend, my mom took me to this antiques market, where I met a woman who could identify the creator of the mirror, an artist named Angele Renée. Turns out Angele had created the mirror as a way to take vengeance on the man who had murdered her little daughter. The mirror supposedly kills murderers. But it was only meant to do it once, not forever. So the witch who helped enchant the mirror is going to come to my place tonight, along with Felicia, the girl who brought me to that antiques market to begin with–long story, don’t ask; she sees ghosts, too, by the way–and we’re going to banish the spirit haunting the mirror and lift the curse once and for all. Now I know this sounds like a lot to cope with, and probably unbelievable as well, but you can call the cops if you want, just...after you help me, you know.”
Piper was freaking out now. Joey still sat there, with that same distant and neutral expression on his face. Then he smiled slightly.
“I thought something was up when you acted all weird when I called earlier this week and when I met you at the cemetery. I just didn’t know that it involved ghosts of some kind.”
“I know it sounds crazy,” Piper began to explain, but she was cut short by Joey.
“It does, but I believe you,” he said. “It’s as simple as that. Whatever you say, I believe you. I trust you.”
Piper stared at him. Was she hearing this correctly? Did he just say that he believed her? She’d just told him the basic scenario of a horror movie and he didn’t even question her sanity?
“Piper, you were never one to invent things,” Joey said. “And I’ve seen–everyone’s seen–that something is the matter with you. Now if you’ve got an old lady witch and a psychic medium to support your case, who am I to say I don’t believe you?”
“Well, thanks,” was all Piper could muster.
“When does this séance thing begin?” Joey asked. “Because if it’s not in the first hour or so, we could go get a snack first.”
Piper playfully hit Joey’s arm. “Boys only think about food,” she remarked.
Joey shrugged while giving her one of his famous, brilliant smiles. “What can I say? One shouldn’t go battling the forces of evil on an empty stomach.”
“I’ll make you a sandwich,” Piper promised. She could barely mask the flirting tone in her voice as she spoke to Joey. Even looking at him gave her butterflies. What the heck was she doing?
***
“Good, there’s four of us,” Jeanne remarked as she stepped into the house. Felicia had arrived about ten minutes earlier. The Goth girl had briefly greeted Joey, and then she sat down on the couch without saying another word. Although Piper was essentially grateful for Felicia helping her, she couldn’t help but not like the girl’s personality. Maybe it was something she had to get used to.
“So, you’re the psychic, I presume?” Jeanne asked Felicia, who barely nodded her head. “You ever done anything like this before?” the old witch asked.
“No,” Felicia admitted.
“Well then, you could use your tongue to speak rather than your facial expressions, because I’m not going to bother reading them from now on.” Jeanne clearly wasn’t intimated by the rebellious behavior of Goths.
“First things first,” the old woman continued, “we need to light a circle of candles. In your bedroom, preferably, since that’s where the mirror is at. We better go there as a group, because I have a feeling this might get ugly. Next, we have to draw a line of salt around us, so we can perform this ritual safely. Ghosts are afraid of salt,” she added as an explanation.
“Then, we’ll form a nice little circle, hold hands, and chant some Latin crap. Next I’ll call upon the spirits of the mirror to show themselves. Now, that’s where it could go terribly wrong. I’m talking dressers flying through the air, lamps knocked on the floor, lights turning on and off, that kind of stuff.”
Jeanne walked upstairs as she talked, her hands filled with candles and other necessities. “Whatever you do, don’t panic. Don’t let go of each other’s hands and definitely don’t break the circle. When they do come out, that circle of salt is the only thing standing between those apparitions and us. And trust me when I tell you they can cause some serious damage.”
“What happens if the circle does get broken?” Joey asked.
“Then, my boy,” Jeanne replied, “all hell breaks loose.”
Jeanne walked into Piper’s room, and her expression softened as she noticed the mirror. “So here it is,” she said, lost in thought, “the cursed mirror.” She then shook her head, breaking out of her reverie. “Time to make right what’s been wrong for a long while,” Jeanne added, more to herself than to the others.
She put the candles in a circle and ordered Joey to light them while she created a circle of salt outside the candle circle. There were exactly thirteen candles. As Joey and Jeanne were working on the circle, Felicia grabbed hold of Piper’s arm.
“The spirits are wary,” Felicia said. “Restless. I don’t think we have much time.”
Piper nodded. She kept her gaze fixed on the mirror. The thing was throbbing with energy, as if some dark, malevolent force was taking control of it.
“Get into the circle,” Jeanne ordered. “I hope you don’t chicken easily, because this is going to be scary for sure. Hold each other’s hands.”
Piper, Felicia, and Joey got into the circle and grabbed hold of each other’s hands. Piper noticed how Joey’s grip was firm and steady, whereas Felicia’s hand was shaking slightly. Piper’s own hands were trembling as well, so she gave the Goth girl a reassuring nod and smile. Felicia didn’t seem to notice. She was breathing heavily and biting her lip, as if she was concentrating on something only she could see.
“Spirits of the mirror,” Jeanne began, “in name of the powers that have summoned you, in name of the one who pulled you from the beyond, I call upon you. Show yourselves. Make yourselves known to us.”
She paused for a moment when nothing seemed to happen, and she took a deep breath and continued, on a louder tone: “I am the one who has summoned you from the grave, who has pulled you from the world beyond. I request your presence here–I command you to show yourselves. Show yourselves!” She screamed the last part.
The candles flamed up three times higher than normal. Jeanne’s head fell back. When she looked forward again, Piper noticed her eyes had rolled to the back of her head. Piper had to suppress a scream. Everything was moving now. The drawers of her dresser were opening and shutting all by themselves, the door slammed open and shut as well, the blinds went up and down, and even her bed shook violently.
“I command you to rise,” Jeanne continued, stressing the last word. “Rise from the depths of Elysium. Show yourselves to us. Reveal yourselves!” With her eyes still blank, she looked like she was in a trance. “Come forth!”
As suddenly as it had begun, everything stopped. The drawers slammed shut, the blinds fell down, and Piper’s bed stood still. Even the mirror hung lifelessly on the wall.
“Is it over?” Piper asked softly, whispering.
Jeanne, whose eyes had gone back to normal, shook her head. “Shh,” she ordered.
Suddenly a voice pierced through the silence. “We have come forth,” the voice said, malice dripping from its words. It was clear that whoever was talking did not want to be here. As Piper looked in the direction the voice was coming from, from behind Joey, she saw a see-through figure. Although barely noticeable at first, the figure seemed to become more visible with every passing second.
When she saw the figure’s face, Piper had to refrain from screaming. Whoever this girl was, she was obviously long past dead. She was small, approximately ten or eleven years old. When she was still alive, she was probably beautiful. There was a trace of blond curls in her hair, but it looked like it hadn’t been washed or combed in over a century. Her skin was a combination of deadly pale, blue, and purple, and her lips were deep purple too. Her eyes had a blank stare, and her head was tilted slightly to the left, as if she had trouble keeping it up straight.
“How dare you summon me, witch,” the ghost snapped, obviously directing her comment at Jeanne. “You who have trapped me here, in this world between, for the last five decades.”
This girl looked like the stereotypical evil spirit. Her voice sounded menacing, and the way she sometimes jerked her head was threatening as well. It was only then that Piper realized the girl’s neck was broken. There was something painful about seeing the spirit of this dead girl, something melancholic and sad. All of that was overpowered by the feeling of anger the ghost radiated.
“I have come to free you,” Jeanne said diplomatically. “The curse was not meant to last for this long, it was only meant to last until your murderer was dead and perished.”
The ghost girl laughed wickedly, and Piper felt her hair stand on end.
“You think that now you have given me this power, I am going to give it up so easily?” the ghost girl asked.
“Don’t you want to be reunited with your mother, Maribelle?” Jeanne asked, and surprisingly enough, there was a kindness in her voice Piper had not heard in it before.
“My mother can go to hell,” Maribelle replied. “As can you, old witch.”
“Leave some for me,” another voice chimed in. This one belonged to another ghostly apparition hovering behind Felicia. This spirit looked as equally terrifying as the previous one, and Piper vaguely wondered what it must be like for Felicia to see ghosts every day, and if all of them looked this frightening.
The second ghost who had appeared had short hair and wore an outfit fit for the middle of winter—a warm coat, snow boots, and a woolen bonnet. She looked hostile as well, and shot a sly sneer at the four people in the circle.
“Shea,” Felicia breathed. Piper felt herself stiffening. So this second apparition was the ghost responsible for killing Abigail Spencer. Abigail, who had helped her by contacting her via Diane. It was then that Piper remembered Abigail’s warnings. The first was: Don’t trust her. The second was: Tell Felicia the truth, even the truth you don’t remember. And the third was: Go back to the beginning, and beyond.
What was beyond a beginning? What was beyond the beginning of this cursed mirror and these hauntings? It made no sense, but it had to mean something.
“We do not fear you,” Jeanne stated meanwhile, looking at the ghosts. Piper had to suppress a shiver–she certainly did fear them. Joey pinched her hand reassuringly, but it didn’t make a difference.
“I forgive you, Shea,” another voice suddenly interrupted. Behind Jeanne another ghost had appeared, but this one looked a lot friendlier than the previous ones. It was Abigail’s ghost. Piper recognized her right away. She still looked like the girl in the pictures, although she was a lot paler and partially see-through. There was a friendly vibe radiating around Abigail’s ghost, but it wasn’t enough to comfort Piper in the slightest.
“You think I need your forgiveness? I should kill you again,” Shea remarked maliciously.
“Say this with me,” Jeanne ordered. “Spirits of the mirror, Shea and Maribelle, we banish you. We banish you from this world and from the world in between.” She paused, and looked at the three other members of the circle. “Repeat it with me.”
“Spirits of the mirror, Shea and Maribelle, we banish you,” the four of them said. “We banish you from this world and from the world in between.”
A ray of light broke through the ghost of Maribelle, and she screamed out in pain. “You cannot do this, witch!” the ghost exclaimed. Meanwhile the ghost of Shea was screaming as well.
“I’m so sorry,” Abigail said, a look of regret in her eyes as she regarded Shea’s ghost. “I’m so sorry, cousin.”
“We banish you from this world and from the world in between,” they repeated again. More rays of light penetrated through the ghosts and they screamed in agony.
Maribelle fell down. “You may banish me, witch,” she screamed, “but you will never lift the curse! It is not yours to lift anymore!” She extended a hand, as if reaching for something, before she vanished completely, disappearing into thin air.
“Argh!” Shea screamed, falling down as well. “Curse you! Curse you!” she cried out, and then she disappeared as well.
All of a sudden, everything went quiet. Too quiet. It seemed unnatural. One moment they were fighting evil ghosts, and the next moment the ghosts were gone, including Abigail.
“Is it over?” Felicia asked no one in particular.
“No,” Jeanne replied, shaking her head. “We still have to lift the curse. Don’t let go of each other’s hands,” she warned. “We...”
Suddenly, the lights began flickering. The furniture began shaking as if they were in the middle of an earthquake. Piper fell down on the floor, letting go of Felicia’s and Joey’s hands. Felicia fell down as well.
“Don’t let go!” Jeanne screamed, but it was too late.
The lights went out. The candles dimmed two heartbeats later.
Something was here. Whatever it was, it was more powerful than the two ghosts. And it was angry.
***
Felicia screamed. “Something is grabbing me!” she yelled. In the dark, Piper blindly searched for her. When she felt a hand, she pulled at it. “Don’t let go!” Felicia yelled again. “It’s pulling at my leg!”
“Jeanne! What do we do?” Piper asked. Something was definitely pulling at Felicia, and it was pulling forcefully. Piper dropped down on her stomach trying to keep hold of the psychic’s hand. She bit her lip and forced herself not to let go.
“I don’t know!” the witch yelled. “Stay within the circle!”
“Something is pulling at me from outside the circle,” Felicia exclaimed, panic audible in her voice.
“Kick it,” Piper suggested. She heard the noise of a boot kicking something.
“It let go, I think,” Felicia remarked, and Piper pulled her closer.
“Jeanne, where are you?” Piper asked.
“Coming closer,” the old witch replied. Suddenly, something grabbed Piper’s hand, and she had to suppress another scream. “It’s me,” Jeanne said.
“Where...where is Joey?” Piper’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t even heard Joey scream.
“Joey! Joey?” Piper yelled.
She let go of Felicia’s hand and blindly searched for something, anything, on the spot where Joey had been just moments ago.
“Joey! Joey! Answer me!”
Panic grabbed hold of her. She felt herself going hysterical, and did everything she could to hold back the hysteria.
Stay calm, she told herself. Breathe.
“Stop it,” Jeanne said, grabbing Piper’s leg. “Stay here. Be quiet. Listen.”
Piper did as she was told. She sat down, although it took great effort on her behalf to stay calm, and she listened.
Thump, thump.
It was the sound of someone dragging something along; something heavy. Someone was dragging Joey through the house!
The lights went back on as suddenly as they had gone out. Everything in Piper’s room was a mess. The blankets of her bed were ripped in half, her clothes were thrown all over the room, and the pictures that had been hanging on the walls were ripped to pieces. But Piper didn’t care. She didn’t care about her room. All she cared about was where Joey was.
As she got up and took a look at the salt circle, she noticed it was Felicia who had broken the circle by falling down on the floor. It didn’t matter, though. None of this was Felicia’s fault. It was hers. She was to blame for all of this. For bringing Joey here in the first place. He had trusted her, and she had put him in harm’s way.
Piper stepped outside the circle and ran to the door of her room. She pulled the door open and walked out to the hallway. The hallway was illuminated but the light looked threatening, teasing, challenging.
“Is that blood?” Felicia asked as she appeared behind Piper, pointing at the red marks all over the hallway. It was blood indeed. A trail of blood leading right up to the attic.
Whatever it was that had been messing with them just now, it was in that attic.
“Go back to the beginning and beyond,” Piper stated thoughtfully. “I know who that is,” she added, referring to the culprit who had kidnapped Joey.
“Who?” Jeanne asked. She looked ten years older in the mere five minutes that had passed since the lights turned off. Her face had been a map of wrinkles before, but now she looked tired and old as time itself.
“It’s the mirror’s creator,” Piper answered. “Angele Renée.”
***
Piper ran through the hallway, following the trail of blood. Her heart beat at three times its regular speed.
Joey, her mind whispered, please be all right.
She had seen enough TV shows like E.R., House M.D., and Private Practice to know this amount of blood loss wasn’t lethal, but she worried about what she would find once she reached Joey. For all she knew, Angele had killed him by now. At least, what was left of Angele.
The bloody trail led up to the attic. Piper took a deep breath. She wasn’t particularly brave. Marcy scored a lot higher on the scorecard for heroism and courage than Piper did. She hadn’t even been able to face her own father in his final moments on earth. But now she had to be brave. She had to be brave for Joey, for Abigail, and for herself. Jeanne and Felicia paused right behind her.
“Let’s go up there,” the old witch suggested. She was about to take the lead, but Piper extended her arm and stopped her.
“I’ll go first,” Piper decided. There was something in her voice that convinced Jeanne not to disagree with her. The old woman nodded, and stayed behind Piper as she went up the stairs.
Every step she took brought Piper closer to her destiny. She knew that now. She felt it in every fiber of her body, in the blood racing through her veins, in her bones. Destiny had never been so clear.
She climbed the last steps. Although she was hurrying, it seemed like time had slowed down and everything happened in slow motion, like in the movies.
Joey, Piper thought, and it was that thought that drove her forward.
Realization hit her straight in the chest and she almost stumbled. She was in love with him. She was in love with Joey. And she had been, for God knows how long.
A memory flashed brightly in her mind. The memory of her and Joey in art class—one of the few classes she didn’t share with Alison–and how he taught Piper how to properly draw eyes. Joey was an excellent artist, whereas Piper was mediocre at best. She remembered now how he had held her hand as she used the pencil to draw the basic strokes, how his soft, melodious laugh had sounded in her ears as he was so close to her. She remembered his smell–cinnamon mixed with something she couldn’t place–and his encouraging words. She loved him. God help her, she did.
She’d reached the last step. Darkness was the only thing that greeted her. Blindly, she searched for the light switch. She gasped as she turned on the light.
Joey was on the floor, covered in his own blood. Something had stabbed him, but thankfully the wound looked superficial, not deadly.
Piper rushed toward Joey and fell down on her knees, as she softly stroked his hair.
“Joey,” she whispered. “Oh God, Joey, I’m so sorry.”
“We need to get him out of here,” Jeanne remarked. Her voice sounded less convincing than it had before, and Piper realized for the first time that the old witch was afraid as well. Somehow that thought gave her even more strength. She nodded.
“Can you stand?” she asked Joey. He nodded slowly, but he couldn’t stand. He was conscious, but barely. She and Felicia had to help him up and then help him down the stairs. Jeanne walked in front of them, checking to see if the coast was clear.
The hallway was deserted and there was no sign of Angele Renée, the woman so obsessed with vengeance that she had become a vengeful spirit. Instead, the hallway was abandoned.
“Do you think she’s a ghost?” Felicia asked Piper as they stood still in the hallway on the upper floor.
“I don’t know,” Piper replied. She wondered when exactly the roles had changed and she had become the major source of information as opposed to Jeanne and Felicia. Everyone seemed to depend on her now.
“We need to bring Joey to the car,” Piper continued. “He needs to go to the hospital.” Her voice was calm and steady as she spoke, but didn’t reflect what she felt inside. Inside a storm was brewing, and she had little or no idea how to stop it from bursting out.
They hobbled down the stairs. The house remained eerily quiet, as if it was waiting for something. Remarkably, Piper finally knew exactly what it was waiting for.
“Put him in my car,” Jeanne ordered, as she pushed open the front door. Jeanne’s car was an old model from the 1970s but it was large enough to put Joey in the backseat.
“Joey,” Piper said, as she caressed his hair one last time.
“P...” he began, but fell silent. Talking was too difficult for him now. He was balancing on the border between consciousness and fainting.
“I love you, Joey,” Piper told him. She wasn’t sure if he heard her, but it would have to do for now.
Piper was about to pull back, when Joey grabbed her arm tightly. “You...” he said, the words failing him again.
“Shh,” Piper said, shushing him, but it was of no use.
He grabbed her hand again. “You...you stabbed me,” Joey whispered. There was hurt and confusion in his voice.
“No,” Piper told him softly, caressing his hair once more. “It wasn’t me who stabbed you. It was an evil creature. I’ll explain it later.” With a pang of guilt, Piper shut the back door of the car and took a step back.
“What do we do now?” Felicia asked, as she looked questioningly at her two companions. She seemed to have lost all her confidence in the last few minutes, since the lights had gone out and Joey had disappeared.
“I have to go back inside,” Jeanne stated calmly. “This is my mess, and I need to take care of it.”
“I have to go as well,” Piper said, with a voice that didn’t sound like her own at all. “It’s me that she wants.”
“I’m the one who made her into this monster,” Jeanne remarked. “You don’t have to go and risk your life. Let me undo the wrongs I did.”
Piper shook her head. She hardly felt herself doing it, as if she had gone completely numb. She felt more relaxed than she had in the past week since she awoke in the middle of the night to things moving in her room.
“I need to go inside,” Piper repeated. “As Abigail said, I need to tell the truth, even the parts I don’t remember...I don’t remember them, but that mirror certainly does. And I need to find out what it knows about me that I can’t recall.”
“Someone needs to take that boy to the hospital,” Jeanne remarked almost casually.
“I’ll do it,” Felicia offered.
“Then I guess it’s just you and me, kiddo.” Jeanne looked up at the house in front of her and shook her head, obviously regretting ever cursing the mirror in the first place.
Piper looked up at the house she would so much like to call her home. She couldn’t call it that. But she could get past this. She could survive this. Abigail wouldn’t have helped her, and neither would her father’s ghost, if she couldn’t make it through this.
It was now or never. Now she could be brave, get back inside that house, face her demons and the truth, and deal with it once and for all. Or she could stay here like a coward and let Jeanne deal with everything. She was tired of being a coward.
“I guess it is,” she answered to Jeanne’s comment, and pushed opened the front door, ready to face whatever fate had in store for her.
***
Piper and Jeanne walked back into the house. It was as if the house had now become their greatest enemy. It seemed like a predator in the dark. Everything that had made the house appear cozy and familiar was gone. It looked foreign now, strange and out of place, monstrous and threatening.
It was almost anticlimactic to see Angele Renée waiting for them on the stairs leading to the upper floor. She stood there like an angel, but a broken angel, staring at her visitors with an ghastly smile.
One woman’s hatred, pain, and suffering had brought forth an object that caused death and despair wherever it went. That woman stood in front of them now, ferocious and threatening.
She didn’t look like the other spirits. She wasn’t see-through. She was as real and solid as Piper and Jeanne. Her dress was old, but it didn’t look like it had been rotting underneath the soil of the earth for decades.
“Jeanne,” Angele Renée greeted the old witch with a nod. “I knew you would come back inside. We have unfinished business.” She then looked at Piper and gave her a smile bordering between malicious and sad. “As for you...I was kind of hoping you would stay out of this.”
“You threatened me,” Piper told the woman. She was surprised at how brave she sounded. “You hurt Joey,” Piper added. “What did you think I would do?”
Angele Renée chuckled. “I thought you would go outside and hide your head in the sand like any good little girl would do. I thought you would ignore it and forget it, as you did with all the rest. You really have no clue, do you? Why my mirror has been torturing you?”
“No, but I intend to find out.” Piper’s bravery was faltering now, and Angele noticed it as well.
“You think I was the one doing this to you,” the artist noticed. “It wasn’t me. I had nothing at all to do with it. The mirror is my creation, but I don’t control it. Not anymore, at least.”
She shot a look at Jeanne and there was a trace of pity in her eyes. “I didn’t want things to go this way,” Angele added. “I don’t hurt innocents, Jeanne, you know that. I hurt Joey, but we can’t exactly call him innocent.”
“You’ve been punishing innocent people for too long, Angele,” Jeanne accused her. “I have no choice. I condemn you, Angele Renée,” Jeanne continued. “I condemn you back to the world beyond. I release the mirror of your bond, I undo the curse you have put upon it. I condemn you to the world beyond.” She lifted her hands and made some complicated gestures.
Angele Renée laughed. “You think you can hurt me with your hocus-pocus? I am no spirit, Jeanne. When you told me about how I could make that mirror, about how I could enchant it so it would hunt down Maribelle’s murderer...I knew that was good, but I wanted more.”
She walked the last couple of steps down the stairs and stood eye to eye with the woman who had taught her everything. The pupil had certainly surpassed the master. But the latter wasn’t about to give up just yet.
“When I knew magic was real and everything was possible...I contacted him, Jeanne. I called upon him. And he came. I sold my soul to him, and he made me become one with the mirror.”
“You sold your soul to a demon...” Jeanne seemed breathless. She shook her head sadly. “Angele, why would you that?”
“To punish them!” the woman exclaimed. “To punish every murderer out there! Everyone who took somebody else’s life! I did it for justice, Jeanne,” Angele explained. “For justice, and for righteousness.”
“You are a fool,” the witch calmly remarked. “You want to bring justice by killing? You want to bring right by doing more wrong? You are ignorant and blind, and I was at fault for ever trusting you.”
“You can’t kill me, old witch,” Angele said maliciously. “I am a demon now. Way out of your league. You have no holy water, no Bible, nothing here that could even remotely scare me. I’m not one of your silly little spirits. I am more. Way more.”
Jeanne took a step back, as if startled by the idea that Angele was a demon. Piper didn’t feel surprised, as if she had known this all along. Angele was made of flesh and blood, as real as Jeanne and Piper were, so she obviously couldn’t have been a spirit. What else was left?
Angele shoved Jeanne back with supernatural power. The old witch collapsed against the wall.
Snickering, Angele turned toward Piper. “Your turn, little girl,” the demon purred.
Then Piper remembered what she had read in Abigail’s diary. I drew a pentagram. I read in one of those old, mysterious books that it was supposed to work as a prison for demons. I don’t know if this is the work of a demon, but I thought it might work. I certainly felt a lot safer in the kitchen after I drew a pentagram on the floor, underneath the carpet.
It was a long shot. It was a long shot indeed. How much luck would it require for the pentagram to still be there, after all these years, hidden below the same carpet? But Piper remembered that she’d always felt safe in the kitchen. It had served as her sanctuary for this past week, the only place in this house where she could truly relax. And even if it was a long shot, she had to try.
Piper sprinted toward the kitchen. She always had been an excellent runner, first in her class. Angele Renée, although a powerful demon, was at least in her forties. She stood no chance against Piper.
Between the kitchen and the living room, there was a small hallway leading to a bathroom. Piper ducked into the dark hallway and waited. It seemed like the longest minute of her life, the seconds clicking by ever so slowly on the old clock in the living room. But eventually, Angele appeared in sight.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” the demon said tauntingly.
She obviously wasn’t expecting Piper to put up much of a fight, let alone lure her into a trap. Nevertheless, Angele didn’t seem eager to walk into the kitchen.
Piper launched at her from the darkness. The demon was startled, and for all her swift reflexes, she was too slow. With a harsh shove, Piper pushed her into the kitchen.
Angele fell down on the floor, trapped above the pentagram. The lines of the pentagram lit up now, burning brightly straight through the carpet.
Piper breathed heavily, looking at the demon. Angele snarled, like an animal captured in a cage.
Suddenly, the young girl felt a hand on her shoulder. The hand was old and wrinkled and belonged to Jeanne.
“Let me handle it from here,” the old witch said softly. She carefully pushed Piper aside, and then looked sternly at the demon.
“Brought forth from Satan, return to him,” Jeanne chanted. “Brought forth from evil, return to evil. Demon spawn, return to ashes. Return to hell, where you belong.”
Jeanne repeated the chant over and over. After the second time, Piper had recovered enough to grab Jeanne’s hand and chant along with her.
“You stupid human!” the demon exclaimed. “You should have let me kill you! What fate awaits you...is much, much worse.”
Angele looked straight at Piper as she spoke. “You have angered her...and her fury is worse than mine. She deemed you murderer, and so you became one.”
Angele screamed out in agony, and for a moment, she was incapable of saying anything.
“Death is the only thing that can save you!” Angele cried out suddenly. “If she gets her hands on you, even the powers of hell can’t rescue you!”
Piper heard the demon’s words, but she refused to listen to them. Demons lied. It was in their nature; why should this one be telling the truth? Besides, Piper had no idea what Angele was talking about.
Don’t trust her, Abigail’s ghost had said. Tell the whole truth, even the truth you don’t remember.
It still didn’t make any sense.
Suddenly, Angele turned her head and looked at something behind Piper. The demon’s face twisted in pain. Piper wanted to look behind her. Curiosity was burning in her very soul, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t let go of Jeanne’s hand, and she couldn’t stop chanting. This was worse than banishing the ghosts. It was as if chanting this song drew the life right out of her.
“No,” Angele said to something behind Piper. “No,” the demon repeated. “What you want to do...I told you, it’s not natural. I told you it can’t be done. You can take vengeance, but this...it’s not meant to be possible. Don’t do it. Don’t!”
But whoever the demon had been warning, it was too late. Angele’s body burst into flames.
Her screams increased, and she yelled “Don’t!” one last time, before she disappeared.
All that was left of the woman, who had once been Angele Renée, was a small pile of ashes.