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Salem, Massachusetts, 1692

Parson crept into the clearing, cross in hand, lantern ablaze. The space was empty, save for the roaring bonfire. He could’ve sworn he heard someone but it was most likely just Peter, that idiot. He would be arriving any minute with the rest of the supplies they needed. Parson sighed and relaxed on to the ground. Finally, years of hard work had come to fruition. Just as soon as…

Parson was startled out of thoughts by a dim crashing in the woods. Peter stumbled out, bleeding from numerous scratches, tightly clutching a parcel to his chest. Parson stalked over to the choir boy.

“You idiot! Are you trying to wake up the whole blasted town?!” hissed Parson

“I’m sorry sir, I really am. But in the dark, with no lantern, sir, its really hard to finds your way around. Be glad I even got here at all…”

The words were cut off by a ringing slap. Peter stumbled back, apologizing profusely.

“Never mind! Set up the circle and do it quickly. We only have an hour till midnight.”

Peter bowed and began to set up a ring around the bonfire. A pentagram crisscrossed through a circle, etched in stillborn’s blood. Inside a Latin inscription summoning the fallen angel himself wound its way around the bonfire, weaving an intricate pattern . A salt circle to enclose the summoning area, lit candles at the points of the pentagram, the moon high above them, they were ready

Parson took his place inside the circle, standing on one point, Peter opposite him. Together they started a chant, invoking the spirits of the world to carry their message to those beyond. Begging those who had lived since the dawn of time to join them in the mortal world. Nigh an hour passed and Peter’s voice was a bare whisper when the fire flickered.

A small wave undulated through it, urging the flames on, till the heat singed their hair and clothes and the light blinded them. Winds howled around the clearing and the trees shrieked in protest. Leaves, soil, and debris slapped them, and Peter collapsed where he stood. The storm died down as suddenly as it came and out of fire came a figure.

A small figure cloaked in darkness, no details, physical or otherwise, were apparent. His footsteps made no sound and his body shed no shadow. It paced around the circle, peering at its occupants. Parson had a sudden urge to throw himself at his feet and beg for mercy. He shaked the thought of and continued to survey the…thing.

He tried to follow his path but the longer he stared, the blurrier the figure became. He briefly wondered whether a stone would pass through the figure or actually hit the figure like a human. A few tense minutes passed before it spoke. The voice was deep and gravelly, gentle yet authoritative and above all, with each passing moment, more and more seductive.

“You summoned my master, the fallen angel himself. But he is occupied with other matters and sent me in his stead. The journey to this pitiful world has left me famished.I desire a small snack.”

He emphasized the last word and glanced at Peter. A growl of longing and desire vibrated through the clearing.

Parson slowly turned to face Peter, his intention written all over his face. Peter backed off slowly, shaking his head in denial. His master wouldn’t betray, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t. He was a priest for God’s sake! Then again, what priest summoned the Devil?

An invisible, vise like grip dragged Peter into the center of the clearing, tossing him by the feet of the figure. The hood came off. He let loose a howl of pure terror. This, this thing, it wasn’t human! It wasn’t even close! What had they done, dear god, what had they unleashed on this earth! Those were Peter Hellsons final thoughts.

The sound of sloshing blood and crunching bones mixed with Peter’s screams filled the clearing. Parson crossed himself and prayed for that fate never to befall him. His stomach churned in as he watched and he barely kept his lunch down. A few minutes later, and it was like Peter had never existed. Blood, bones, flesh all went down the maw of the awful creature. Finally it spoke, satiated.

“Thank you. He was a wonderful combination of sodomy, nights of perverse pleasure devoutness and a love of God gone wrong. Such a sinful, delightful meal. He truly is a son of Hell”

It giggled, reveling in its meal. Parson blushed a deep crimson that was invisible in the darkness and kept silent, not bothering to defend himself. After all this was the Devil’s hireling. And that voice. That wonderful, lilting voice. Nothing it said could be a lie. That would be like…heresy!

“Why have you called my master?”

“Before, my people, my Catholic brethren were populous, ruling many a countries. Yes some churches were tainted with corruption, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed. Then, then, they turned against us. They drove us underground, into hiding, never to preach again under the God given sunlight. I want to bring my people salvation, bring them back to their rightful place. I want to punish those who scorned us, those who locked us up in dreary prisons, those who spat on our feet and kicked our children. I want them to feel the agony we did!”

Parson was out of breath by the end of this rant. He glanced over to the figure. If he could see its face, he could have sworn it was smiling. A rage stole over him as a giggle confirmed his suspicion. Boiling, he was about to walk over and punch the blasted thing when it laughed again.
A peace stole over him, making him forget why he was angry in the first place. The figure could no wrong. His cause must truly be a pitiful one indeed. He nearly sobbed at disappointing the figure, but his mind, unwilling to be tamed pushed through and he regained his senses.

“To save God, you enlist help from the Devil. Yet, you are not the first. I must ponder this request”

It paced around the circle, talking and laughing in a strange coarse language apparently to no one. Parson grew more and more nervous with each passing moment. What if it said no? Then he would be deep in a well of trouble. If the towns people found out? He would rather be working for the devil than face their wrath. A priest who pledged his allegiance to the devil? Tarring and feathering and possibly being drawn and quartered? He shuddered at the possible consequences.

Finally it spoke.

“I will grant your request.”

Parson sighed in relief. He was ashamed at letting his imagination run wild. The figure produced a scroll from its robes, or whatever clothing it wore. It glow ed red for a moment and then it handed the scroll to Parson.

“It contains your revenge. Use it wisely, for it can’t be undone. I leave you with that. Oh and be careful of curious souls.”

The fire roared and engulfed the figure. It disappeared, but its maniac laughter lingered. A small spark floated out of the fire and into the woods. Parson chased after it, no wanting a forest fire to reveal his deeds. In his haste, he slammed into a wall of flesh and several yelps and teeth jarring thuds resounded. The spark landed and a fire blossomed. In the light of the blaze, he saw those heathen Puritan children, Betty Paris and Abigail Williams, and that slave Tituba all tangled up on the ground.

He smiled with pure malice. What a perfect opportunity to test out the curse. He opened he scroll and began to read.

Present Day – Bethlehem, Pennsylvania

Skyler was jolted out of her afternoon siesta in the sunny classroom by a strange burning sensation. Imaginary flames were licking at her toes and she could feel the heat and the charring. They began to climb higher, consuming her entire foot and working its way up her calf. The sensation was making her do a lap dance in her seat as she tried to ease the itch from the prickling, a vanguard to the flames themselves. Skyler had to get out of the room and fast.

She glanced at the teacher, still droning on about the Russian civil war, and was glad he hadn’t noticed her nap or her squirming. The clock read one fifty and school wouldn’t be out for another hour. A sudden flare in the flames made her yelp softly and kids were starting to stare. Time to beat the hell out of here.

She raised her hand and waited for him to acknowledge her. He didn’t even pause in his lecture when he nodded at her. She mouthed the words “bathroom” and “emergency”. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking a question only a female could be asked. She nodded, harried, and he tossed the bathroom pass to her. He didn’t say a word when she grabbed her bag before leaving the class. She bolted out the door, and a tiny part of her brain registered that the whole time the teacher had never paused in his lecture. Geezer.

Finally, home free. By now the flames had pretty much consumed both her calves and her walk had a slight limp to it. The itching, burning, and prickling were pushing the limits of her control, so she paused to put some aloe ointment on it. Much better. She ran out to the parking lot, using the back cafeteria door to avoid any nosy teachers or admins that were roaming the halls looking for kids cutting class, smoking pot, getting kinky, or just doing things they shouldn’t be, especially when classes were on.

It usually didn’t take her long to get home, but the licking flames, having consumed her whole lower body, were working their way upward, pausing to taste every inch of skin, charring all in the process. Sitting still, let alone concentrating on driving was becoming nigh impossible. She nearly hit three different mailboxes and almost mowed down a stray cat. It took her five tries to avoid hitting the curb as she parked her car. Combined with the frantic braking, jolty speeding, and the flames testing their limits, it had been a car ride straight from hell. Scratch that, straight to hell.

Skyler stabbed the key into the lock, nearly denting the key, but managing to open the door. She slammed the door closed and made a beeline for her indoor pool, the water laced with soothing aloe. She tore of her clothes, not caring about buttons or zippers and dived in. The water caressed her skin, easing the growing itch and prickling. The aloe worked wonders, smoothing the charred skin and making it less painful to move. Skyler relaxed at the shallow end and thought back to the beginning of this monthly madness.

Betty Paris had been the beginning of this curse and it had been passed down through the generations affecting only women. That vengeful priest had cursed them to suffer from a physical manifestation of their worst quality in place of their monthly menses. The up side was it only lasted for a solid twenty four hours. Thank heaven for little mercies.

For Skyler, her temper flared at the smallest slight and it had become a past time for some students to see how quickly they could piss her off. Her rages involved broken skin, bruising, destroyed furniture, ripped clothing and once a shattered window. She wasn’t proud of it, but had been taking anger management classes lately.

Skyler must have drifted off, sitting on the steps leading into the pool, because when she opened her eyes, the sun was low in the sky and she could here her mom pulling up in the drive way. Skyler eased out of the pool, careful not to twitch much, lest the burn return. Still in her bathing suit and dripping wet, she gingerly made her way to the sliding door and opened it.

“MOM! I’M IN THE POOL!”

She heard the click clack of heels as her mom hurried over. Satisfied she had been heard, she jumped back into the pool. Her mom appeared at the doorway a few minutes later. She gasped when she Skyler’s skin, a red that was painful to look at.

“Did it come early this month?”

“Yep. It’s been really erratic. I mean I just had it like a weeks ago. And then again today!”

Skyler mom and nodded and took a seat at the poolside. She took of her shoes and dipped her feet in with a sigh. She closed her eyes and thought for a few minutes. With opening them, she said

“Skyler, when was the last time you got it before the one that happened a week ago?”

“That was two weeks apart. Wait a minute, they’re getting closer together. First it was four weeks, consistently and now…”

Her mom finished for her.

“The time in between is shrinking, soon it might never go away”

Skyler bolted upright from on the tube and nearly toppled back into the water. She sputtered as she tried to clear the water out of her lungs.

“You mean…cough…it might never go away…cough...it might just...cough…stay forever?!”

Her voice went up an octave on the last word and her coughing consumed her for a few minutes. Her mom made soothing gestures at her.

“I was just thinking. Why don’t you get dried up and we have dinner?”

She eased her feet out and Skyler followed suit, not bothering to towel dry. They would be eating next to the pool anyway. Sometimes, she was glad it was only her and her mom. Yet, she still missed having a dad around. He had died while serving in Iraq. She sighed and pushed away the tide of sorrow. It had been five years, why couldn’t she just move on?! But some wounds never fully heal.

She walked around the garden as her mom prepared dinner. The flowers were in full bloom and the bugs were breeding. The leaves were coming back on the trees and the cheeping of birds filled the air. Spring was making its presence known.

The clatter of dishes and the smell of baked chicken drew her back to the pool were her mom was waiting with dinner. The feasted on chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy and afterwards, apple pie, Sklyer’s favorite. After dinner, they talked about school, fashion, and current events. The sun was dipping low by the time they wrapped up. Skyler trudged off to bed, weary from the day’s events.

But night bought to rest for her. Her skin, now inflamed from head to toe, allowed her now sleep. She resisted taking sleeping pills since they knocked her out for twelve hours at the least. The tossing and turning aggravated her skin further and sleep evaded her far into the night. Finally in the wee hours of the morning, she managed to catch a few winks of sleep.

Breakfast and a note were waiting at her bedside when she awoke. Her mom would be out late at an office party. She had made dinner and lunch and left reheating instructions. Skyler smiled. Her mom was the epitome of a housewife and business woman all in one. She dragged herself out of bed with a groan and prepared to face the day.

She showered, lathered herself with aloe lotion, and got dressed in the skimpiest pair of shorts and tank top she could find. Skin that was covered tended to itch the worst. On the other hand skimpy clothing gave her the reputation of being a supposed skank. Solving that problem would require divulging her secret and it just didn’t seem worth it when it would make her an even bigger laughing stock than she already was.

She counted down the hours till the flames would be gone. And right on the dot, the flames subsided and the redness vanished instantly. Now the globs of aloe were beginning to feel really icky and that soothing. She jumped into the shower and scrubbed until her skin was raw. She then donned a pair of flannel, long sleeves, and relished the feel of fabric of on her skins. Skyler giggled at the sliding of the fabric and dove under covers, despite the fact that it was one in the afternoon. She tossed around, savoring the lack of the burning.

As she drifted into much needed sleep, a thought struck her. What better place to try and research her condition than the internet? Happy at finally finding a solution, she drifted off.



Present Day – Imogene, South Dakota

Ginger Williams gasped as the full force of the dehydration hit her. Her knees buckled as her vision went through the spectrums of color. Blackness tugged at the corners but she managed to keep it at bay. Within a few minutes it had passed, and she was left exhausted. Thank God it was almost over.

Why?! Why did she of all people have to be cursed?! A physical manifestation of your worst quality, she thought mockingly. Yes, so instead of letting loose the waterworks at the slightest disappointment, she was had no water in the first place!!! What sense did that make?! Another dizzying rush forced her to calm and think rationally about this.

Her so called periods had started to come closer and closer together. What if one day they never stopped? Ginger shuddered at though. Somehow, by some awful magic she never died. She was dangerously deprived of water, no matter her intake, and to live like this forever…well, she would kill herself before that happened.

She could feel a simmering rage, but suppressed it. Anymore emotionally outburst and she would be wiped out. A lazy spark of an idea drifted into her brain. She smiled at the silliness, but hey, what did she have to lose? She logged on to her computer and pulled up Google. What were the chances that someone out there had a similar…predicament? Time to found out.

***

Skyler’s computer pinged, alerting her to an e-mail. She had posted queries on several sites, using a phrasing that only someone with her condition would be able to decipher. That had been three weeks ago. Since then her period had been coming closer and closer till it was only a few days apart. They had run out of aloe several times and now just the smell of it made her feel sick. Her mother had hired a tutor so she wouldn’t fall to far back,. She was beginning to wonder if she was even going to go back to school at all, considering the frequencies of her attacks.

The e-mail brought a small shred of hope. Maybe someone had a solution or a shared predicament. But many hoaxes and false leads had dimmed her hopes. Yet, every time, she still surged with the possibility of a solution. She clicked on the e-mail to open it and began to read.

Dear Noire Hope

I am a cry baby at heart and my tears seemed to be never ending. Yet once a month, (now it’s getting even more frequent) I lose my ability to hold water. It just disappears, now matter how much my import or export. And now you too. Your rage turns against you, boiling and inflaming your skin. Exact opposites. Water and fire. But something tells me were two sides of the same coin. Different but alike. I think we can help each other rid the world of this curse.

I’ve heard a rumor. Summon the devil or his hireling to the mortal and the land it touches it forever scarred and barren of life. Summon him again and the area will prosper till the end of time. No one has had the reason or the guts to summon the devil twice in the same area. But me and you, maybe we can. Just maybe. My phone number is 849-242-1783.

A kindred soul
Hope Everlasting

The e-mail filled Skyler with a childish hope. This would have to be an elaborate hoax, if it was a hoax at all. But this was real, so real, she could feel it in her hands, almost tangible. This girl, Hope Everlasting, she might have the key, she just might. With shaking hands, she picked up the phones with crossed finger and began to dial.