Chapter Two: Rumors
Henry
looked around as if to check that no one was eavesdropping. He gestured for the others to follow him
further into the shadowed space behind a stack of crates. Away from prying eyes, he seemed confident
enough to continue his story.
“Her
name is Eliza Pratchet. She and her
husband moved here years ago. Legend
says they were never normal folk. Their
cabin’s always been boarded up. The
curtains are drawn and no one ever comes to the door. Several people tried to visit them when they
first arrived, but no one ever answered.”
“They
moved in, but you could never see them?” Roland asked. “Are you sure they
actually lived there?”
“Well,
that’s the thing. As time went on,
people weren’t sure what was going on.
They said maybe the Pratchets never settled in. Maybe they died before they could move
in. No one knew. The town had a meeting and the people decided
they were going to take down the cabin, but the night before they were to do
it, she appeared, white as a ghost and...well, different than normal folk. She said she and her husband still lived there
and demanded they be left alone. Now she
comes to town once in awhile to buy goods but everyone stays clear of
her.”
“That’s
spooky,” Roland said.
Annabelle’s
curiosity was piqued again. “How does
that make her a witch? I mean, just
because they only see her at night, and she wanted to be left alone doesn’t
give her supernatural powers. And what
about her husband?”
“They say she killed him because no one has seen him
in--”
Annabelle
interrupted him. “That’s what they
say but that doesn’t mean it’s true.”
Henry
stumbled for answer. “Her husband
disappeared and no one’s seen him.
People don’t vanish. She had to
have done something.”
“Well
that’s not entirely true, Henry. His
ghost walks the woods,” Tom said.
Annabelle
and Roland looked at each other. She saw disbelief in her brother’s eyes and
wondered if this was all a game. She
hoped with all her heart that it was.
Henry
continued, “The story is she killed him and burned his body for firewood.”
Annabelle’s
stomach turned.
“What’s
worse...” Henry continued.
“There’s
worse?” Roland said.
“Yes. There are the bodies.”
“Bodies?”
“The
townspeople figure she’s been making sacrifices.”
A
shiver prickled down Annabelle’s spine despite her intention not to believe any
of this.
“We
can’t prove the bodies were from her,” Thomas interrupted.
“Each
of them, animal or human, was found in the woods drained of all their
blood.”
Annabelle
couldn’t believe what she was hearing. A
frightening thought crossed her mind, but she dismissed it. She had been reading her book of monsters too
often. There was no way such a thing
could be true.
---------------
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