Page 32 of A Cursed Noel
A giant hole takes upmost of this property. Roots from trees as old as time push throughthe sides. Someone had attempted to build a pool back here. Theydidn’t know what they were doing, or gave up when the negativeenergy became too much. They finished the outline, but not much more.
We lurk to the edge,hiding behind a stack of cinderblock.
“This it?” I ask.
Celia presses her lipsand nods, peering at her home as if she expects it to attack.
The other yards weren’tcared for. Not by a long shot. Between the clutter and the abandonedprojects, what could have been nice properties were abandoned anddeemed unsalvageable. Celia’s house, for all it’s supposedlybeing cloaked by evil, isn’t like the others.
The yard is clean.Several inches of snow cover what’s likely a meticulously keptlawn. My guess is that Celia’s charged with mowing it all summerlong. Who else would? She’s the strong one. There’s a gardenperched near the end, scrupulously maintained, and awaiting the firsttaste of spring.
Two small stone stepslead up to an enclosed porch, the windows thin and barely enough tokeep out winter’s wrath. Along the porch’s concrete base, claypots are stacked in neat rows.
The entire sceneappears normal.Toonormal.
As late as it is, therearen’t any lights on in the house. There’s no blast from a T.V.,no inkling of movement. Someone should be up waiting on Celia, exceptthe only thing that greets us is quiet.
I extend out my senses,searching for anything supernatural. I’m drawn to the sky aboveCelia’s house. I expect to see something. But again, only quietawaits.
Until that darknessthat shouldn’t belong stirs, creeping out of the house andstretching out toward us.
“Do you seeanything?” Celia asks.
“No,” I admit. “ButI feel it. It’s coming right at us.”
“I sense it, too,”she agrees. “I just can’t understand why I never noticed itbefore.”
“Dark entities don’tsimply manifest out of nowhere. Only real powerful ones have thatability. For something to infect your home like it has, my guess isthat the attack was small and imperceptible at first. Too subtle tonotice. As time has passed, it’s become part of your house,building and feeding off you.”
“Like a parasite,”she realizes.
“Exactly,” I say,wishing I could spare her from how bad it is. “You’re thestrongest in your family. It’s why you’re still working and ableto leave the home.”
I shake off the feel ofsomething trying to ensnare me. This thing, spell, I’m guessing, isbold enough to attempt to latch on to me. Nice try, but neither menor my beast will allow it.
“Did something justgo after you?” Celia asks. “I felt it approach but then it wasgone.”
“As soon as I feltit, I shoved it away. I want you to do the same, okay? Imagineyourself pushing the darkness away as strongly as you would aphysical being. Except instead of using your hands, use your magic,your spirit. Let it know you’re the boss and it can’t take you.”
At first, Celia seemsunsure. Her magic remains very foreign to her. She never wanted it,just as she never wanted to believe monsters were real.
Yet she’s acceptedthe curse meant to kill her, and has doggy-paddled as best she couldthrough the supernatural pool. Most would have keeled over and died.But Celia isn’t most. She squares her shoulders and sets her smalljaw, demonstrating the resolve I know and love.
I force myself back inthe game, mulling through our best options. My wolf compels meforward. He wants to scour the perimeter, get a sense of what we’refighting, and make our way in.
Fine. Sounds like aplan.
I permit my wolfforward without allowing him all the way through. “It’s time,”I say in a low growl. “Stay here.”
She clasps my arm.“Wait—what?”
I cock my head, unsurewhat the problem is. “Stay here while I kill whatever’s invadedyour house. As soon as I’m done, I’ll come fetch you.”
I do a double-take whenmy beloved glares at me, likeglaresas if ready to kill me.
“Fetch me? Really,Pa?” She smiles. It’s not one of her prettier smiles. If I’mnot mistaken, she’s ready to bite. “Can I bake you a pieafterward? Maybe mend your socks by the fire? You know how I love tomend dem socks after a good fetchin’.”
“You’re not goingwith me,” I tell her. “It’s too dangerous for someone asfragile as you.”