Pumpkin Spice, стр. 2
It was a quarter after three in the morning when the sound woke Jasper up. It seemed to be coming from the kitchen. As he awoke, he checked on Amelia, then Kirk. Both were sound asleep.
Jasper was unaware of the time; he knew it had to be the middle of the night as the sun had not begun to peak its bright promising exterior.
Another sound of glass shattering was heard from the kitchen, this time Amelia gently opened her eyes. “What was that?” She whispered, half asleep. “Probably just a rodent. Go back to sleep.” Amelia, who had barely been awake easily drifted back into dreamland. Jasper looked over at Kirk, the infant was unphased by the sounds. He closed his eyes and did his best to fall back asleep.
The next morning Jasper was the first one to walk in the household. He made his way down to the kitchen. Mud prints greeted him on the floor. Further ahead he could see an empty can of tuna lying on the counter. It was not a rodent, but indeed a cat. The witches must have been were more active that evening than usual. Witches will often times send their pets, black cats, out into Tarryville to get a grander feel for the world they’re entering. Land does have a tendency to change after five years. Jasper knew he must move quickly to complete the fence, and prop up the blessed cross on their property.
He worked non-stop during the day. Amelia would come out with water every thirty-five minutes, and brought him breakfast, lunch, and eventually dinner. When she dropped off the ham meal, she prepared for him for his five-o’clock supper, she reminded him it would be dark soon, and finished fence or not it would be in his best interest to return inside. Jasper agreed. He was close, a couple more logs and the fence would be ready.
Time was not on his side, nor was the weather. A cloud moved in from the east and quickly covered the remaining sunlight Jasper had left. He was surrounded by darkness. A chill rushed through his veins.
The last piece of wood was up, nailed in and set. Now it was time for the cross. He lifted the three-foot wooden structure up and leaned it against the front gate of the newly constructed fence. He looked at it and smiled. A cross at the entrance of a house meant safety and sanctuary from witches. They could not enter a Christian household uninvited if said household had a cross at the front gate or doorway. And there stood the cross at the front of the property. A sense of relief crossed over Jasper as night struck. He built it just in time, Jasper turned on his flashlight, turned his back to the woods and walked towards the front door. As he reached down to grab the doorknob, he noticed something on the face of the door.
Markings. He ran his fingers along them. Fear struck Jasper. He took a step back. A series of witch markings were on the outside of the door. Circles overlapping one another, and on the bottom a double V.
Virgin of Virgins.
A witch had entered this house.
Were these new? He had not noticed them this morning when he left to build the fence. Amelia made no mention of them after breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Perhaps a witch was what he heard the night before? Perhaps it was not a cat, after all? None of that mattered now. A witch had surely entered his farmstead, he had to protect his family. They needed to leave and head over to the McSweeny’s residence as soon as possible.
The Winhead farmstead was no longer a safe place to live. Jasper ran inside slamming the door behind him. “Amelia!” he shouted. No answer, he searched around the house calling for his wife.
That was when he noticed it.
A back cloud emanating from the kitchen. He took a deep breath and rushed in.
There he saw the body of his wife hovering five feet above the ground.
“Amelia!!” Jasper yelled as loud as he could, hoping to wake his wife from whatever spell she was under. “She cannot hear you.” a sly cunning high-pitched voice calmly stated. Jasper looked to the far end of the kitchen to witness a witch squatting on top of the counter. She was dressed all in black, with long frail dark hair. Her pointy nose was tipped off with a wart. Her eyes black as night, and her fingers were long and dangly. One of her arms was raised up above her pointed witch hat. She holding Amelia’s body in the air with a spell, the other arm was cradling his baby, Kirk. “Let them go!” Jasper demanded. The witch smiled. “Why?” She questioned the cowboy. “Because if you don’t, I will kill you.” The witch cackled in response, “I’ll kill you!” Jasper shouted, his tone was deafening, demanding, and he meant it. The Witch stopped cackling. She stared at Jasper dead in the eyes, she was looking into his soul. “Death is a gift.” The witch stated. Using her arm raised in the air she clinched her fingers together firmly clutching onto the air as tight as she could. Suddenly Amelia’s body stiffened, and began to squeeze together. Blood splattered all over the kitchen. Amelia’s intestines landed in front of Jasper’s feet. He was in shock as he looked up at the witch, who was murmuring some sort of incantation. Jasper dropped to his knees in tears. He looked up at the witch who was still cradling his infant son. He reached his arm out for him, tears rolling down