Storm
Prologue
The crochet needle was cool beneath her fingers, the wool soft. The creaking of her grandma’s rocking chair filled her ears, combined with soft notes that her grandma sang. In a corner of the room, on the floor, sat her twin Mason, silently reading as they listened for sounds from outside. The wind flowed past their window, carrying with it the ancient sounds of the forest.
Gran stopped her singing and paused her knitting, looking around the room until they landed on the oldest of her grandchildren, Megan. “What time is it, dear?” she asked.
“Ten past seven, gran,” Megan replied, boredom evident in her voice. “Why do we
always do this? I want to go outside, I want to have fun.”
“You know that it’s not safe to be outside,” Gran stated, getting up from the chair. “I don’t want to hear anymore complains about it.”
“But Gran, there isn’t any storm outside!” Megan exclaimed, sinking further down into the armchair.
“Nonsense, you heard what the news said. A storm would be coming at eight o’clock. They’re never wrong, and even if they were, I don’t want to risk anything. Now, let’s prepare. Mary-Lynn, you fixed the door before you locked it, right?”
Eleven-year-old Mary-Lynn stopped crocheting, and nodded. “I turned the electricity off, too. I also put the iron jewelry in the basket over there.” She pointed to a basket near the door of the living room.
“You’re an angel,” Gran smiled warmly, before moving towards said basket and starting to pull out the iron jewelry. The three children took the jewelry she gave them, and started to put it on.
“This is so ugly,” Megan voiced, staring at a necklace of swirling shapes with narrowed eyes.
“They’re not meant to be pretty, they’re meant to protect you,” Gran replied, moving Mary-Lynn’s hair so that she could put on the necklace with the wolf on it.
When everyone had put on something made of iron, Gran straightened up and moved towards one of the bureaus in the room, pulling out one of the drawers and lifting a sharp knife. Light from the candles reflected on the polished surface of the blade, and Mary-Lynn felt herself go pale. This was the worst part of the protection preparation.
Gran brought the knife down with a slash, wincing slightly as it cut through the skin of her palm. Beckoning the children forwards, she dipped her fingers in the blood that was pooling up in her hand, and began to draw an eye just above the space between Megan’s eyebrows, over the third eye, while muttering prayers under her breath. Mason was next, and she smiled slightly at the brave face he put on, before finishing her job and moving on to paint Mary-Lynn. Mary-Lynn then proceeded to paint Gran’s forehead, and smiled proudly when she was done.
“Thank you child. I’ll just clean up my hand,” Gran said, before leaving the room.
“This is stupid,” Megan muttered, running a hand through her thick, brown curls. “I could be out having fun with my friends, instead I’m caught up in
here with a bunch of
lunatics.”
“You know what happens when the storm comes,” Mary-Lynn said, staring at her sister seriously. “If you’re not inside protected, they’ll take you. Besides, you’re only thirteen; you shouldn’t be outside this late, even if there was no storm.”
Megan narrowed her eyes at her younger sister, opening her mouth to make a reply, but closed it again as Gran returned to the room, her hand now wrapped up in a bandage.
“Now we wait,” Gran said, glancing out the window before looking up the time. 7:30 p.m. She let out a sigh and sat back down in her rocking chair, picking up where she left off with her knitting, murmuring prayers under her breath.
Mason returned to his book that lay on the floor in the corner of the room, and Megan continued to stare blankly out the window while Mary-Lynn continued to crochet. Her hands shook slightly, and she swallowed.
She changed her mind. The blood ceremony wasn’t the worst part, the waiting was. Wondering whether what they had done to protect themselves would be enough, wondering who they would take this time – a small child, a young girl, a married man? You never knew who they would take, except that they had never taken anyone over thirty years old. Not that that meant that the adults were safe – they might change their minds and go for someone older this time; you never knew who they would be after next.
The ticking of the clock echoed loudly in her ear, and she took a deep breath. They would get through this – they always had. It wouldn’t be any different now. She dared a glance at the clock, noted that the time was now 7:40, and returned to her crocheting. The time passed like that; all four of them minding their own business, but stealing glances at the clock. 7:45. 7:50. 7:55. 7:58.
“Blow out the candles,” Gran commanded, putting away her knitting needles and yarn, before moving to blow out the candle closest to her. The rest of them did the same, until the room bathed in darkness. The family found their way to the middle of the room, sitting down on the floor and taking each other’s hands.
“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one,” Megan counted down, the last number washed away by the sound of thunder. It was as if someone had flipped a switch; suddenly rain was pouring down and beating against the window, wind whooshed past their house, carrying with it the laughter that haunted Mary-Lynn’s dreams. A lightening bolt lit up the room, and that’s when the screams began.
Terrified screams and sobs could be heard from outside, and Mary-Lynn squeezed Mason’s hand harder, her eyes shut tightly. A blood-curling scream, louder than the others, filled her ears and sent a chill down her spine. Thunder once more echoed through the room, mixed with the screams from outside. It felt like it went on for an eternity, but it passed quite quickly. When the second lightening bolt struck, it was all over.
Megan let go of their hands, brushing her hair away from her forehead. “I’ll go put on the power,” she muttered, before fleeing the room.
Gran got up from the floor and dusted herself off, finishing of the prayer that she had been murmuring. “Why don’t I go make us some tea when your sister has fixed the power,” she suggested, before she too left the room.
Mary-Lynn was still sitting with her eyes shut and squeezing Mason’s hand, who got up and pulled her up with him. He removed his hand from hers, and instead slung a comforting am around her shoulders.
“It’s over now, don’t worry,” he assured her, starting to move her towards the kitchen. “Everything is fine now.”
“Who do you think they took this time?” she asked quietly, staring at the floor as they walked. “Do you think it was someone from school?”
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see tomorrow,” he responded. “But we can’t continue like this. We can’t live in fear for the rest of our lives.”
“Yeah, and how to you suggest we stop being scared? Because I can’t come up with a way,” Mary-Lynn stated, raising an eyebrow at him.
“As long as we protect ourselves we’re safe. If we always make sure to be protected, they can’t touch us. Then we won’t have anything to worry about.”
He sounded sure, but Mary-Lynn wasn’t convinced. What if they figured out how to get past the protection one day? Then no one was safe. Then they could come for anyone. Then they were done for.
A/N: I'm not really sure what this is, to be honest. I know what will happen in some of the future chapters, but we'll just have to see where this goes.
