***
Two weeks after the mysterious death of Blaze, five warlocks sat in the middle of the huge compound of a farmhouse which was now their own…though not legally, strategizing.
“I know what I’m talking about,” Mary said quietly to the other four warlocks. “That Jeremy individual is something else. Those freaks of nature that the werewolves have are not to be fooled with. We need to take our time and plan.”
“That’s true.” Mario, one of the two male warlocks nodded.
“My dear husband…rest his soul, told me about how Jeremy turned about thirty warlocks to ash with just a snap of his finger. We need to know how to proceed if we don’t want to end up with the same fate.”
“That little shit.” One female warlock spat. “So he thinks he’s back with his people huh?”
“Watch it, Sally.” Mary snapped. “From what I saw from that criminal’s mind, Troy was angry at the wolves. He thought they were murderers.”
“Yeah, but for how long?” Sally muttered. “I’m sure his mother and brother have told him how wicked we are and all that. He probably wants our heads on spikes decorating their stupid pack house.”
“Well, we did kidnap him.” Mary sighed. “But he became mine. And I’ll be damned if I’ll allow those mangy wolves to claim him.” She rasped, looking at the others challengingly.
“We must not lose focus, Mary,” Sally said heatedly. “We all lost loved ones and need to avenge them. This is not a rescue mission. That stupid wolf is not…” Her words ended in a nasty gurgling sound in her throat.
“Mary, stop it.” The third woman screamed as the two men rushed to Sally’s side. “We’re only five for goodness sake. We need each other…” She shook Mary.
Mary let out a deep breath, instantly releasing Sally from whatever hold she had on her. The warlock wheezed as she drew in a much-needed breath and spat out blood.
“Don’t ever talk about my boy like that,” Mary said quietly.
*
Mary Carol Hart came from a very large family. She was the thirteenth child of her parents. She had loved her parents and seventeen siblings to bits. And until the age of thirteen, she’d thought they loved her too. She got to know how her parents…especially, her father really felt about her in the most unfortunate way. She always shuddered whenever she thought about that fateful day.
Mary and some of her siblings had gone to the riverside to wash one fine morning. There were other children washing and playing at the riverside. Of course, as could happen whenever children gathered, a quarrel broke out between one of Mary’s brothers, Troy, and another kid who was a known bully. The two fought. The other kid, who was much bigger and stronger than Mary’s brother, soon got the upper hand and pushed Troy onto his back. He locked him down with a knee to his throat, grabbed a big rock, raised it up, and then started to bring it down with the intention of hitting Mary’s brother on the head. Everyone, but Mary screamed.
Out of all her siblings, she loved Troy the most. So seeing him about to be hurt and possibly killed by that bully, caused a myriad of emotions to fill Mary. She felt fear, anger, and an emotion that she couldn’t fathom. She was later to know it as evil energy. Mary could feel something within her. Something that pushed her to act. And act, she did. She just didn’t know how she acted. She only got to know what she’d done after the horrible incident.
Thirteen-year-old Mary was told that she’d started to recite some words loudly. Upon hearing her words, the bully had stilled in the act of bringing down the rock and fallen off Troy. And that was when things had gotten weird. Even as she kept loudly reciting the words that no one understood, the rock left the bully’s hands, shot up above his head, and then to the utmost shock of all the on-lookers, came down with speed and precision to continuously smash the bully’s head. That rock pounded the bully’s head until it became mash… amidst her loud chanting and the gasps and screams of the children gathered. The rock had only stopped its horrible pounding when she had ceased chanting. To say that Mary was shocked at what she’d done would have been putting it mildly.
Everything that ensued after that was a blur. The grownups came around, heard the story, and demanded that Mary got burned at the stake immediately. The confused girl looked around frantically, searching for her parents. She saw them. But the look in her father’s eyes sent a chill down the girl’s spine. Mary would never forget her father’s words that day.
“We were told that you were evil the moment you were born.” Her father sneered. “Thirteenth child of my loins was to manifest pure evil when she turned thirteen. I told your mother to allow me to take your life before you got to thirteen. She was hopeful that the prophecy wouldn’t come to pass.” He gave an evil laugh and backhanded her mother across the jaw when she attempted to talk. “She burns!” Her father had bellowed to the joyful cheers from the people gathered.
And ignoring Mary’s screams, some men had picked her up and taken her to where some other men were arranging wood for her looming burning. The next thing Mary felt was her butt hitting the ground forcefully. She felt the heat before she looked up. Each of the men who’d been carrying her was burning alive. Mary recoiled at their bloodcurdling screams. The men who were arranging the woods for her impending roasting were next. They all burst into flames. People run helter-skelter. Her mother ran to her and cradled her in her arms even as her father shouted angrily at her to let Mary go.
“How pathetic.” Mary heard the voice but didn’t know where it was coming from. “You’re given such a gift and what do you do? Call for her death. Foolish man. Come with me, Mary.”
And that was when Mary looked up and saw the owner of the voice. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on. His hair was pure white but he didn’t look a day over thirty. And he had the kindest smile. But Mary hesitated. After all, she didn’t know the man.
“She’s not going anywhere with you, whoever you are.” Her father growled. “She has to die and that’s exactly what…” Mary couldn’t hear her father again.
She turned to look at her father and saw the confusion on his face. What surprised her, even more, was that her father was still talking. His words could, however, not be heard. Neither could he seem to move his feet. If it were to be in the present day, Mary would have said someone had put her father on mute.