Deeds of Darkness
by Marilyn Meredith
c 1998
Natural curiosity leads to a nightmare of horror in this thrilling tale.......
PROLOGUE
In the dark place, the vile stench was as pervasive as the overwhelming heat. But the sound of heavy wings scraping together as the ugly, misshapen bodies jostled one another was somehow louder than the crying, whimpering, moaning, groaning, and agonized screaming that came from deeper below.
The multitude of demons growled among themselves as they watched the tiny crack, waiting with impatience for it to widen and allow them entrance into the world….
CHAPTER ONE
"What's going on? Is your mother having a party?" Madeline Mahoney asked. She hadn't said anything when she'd heard several cars driving up the dirt lane to her friend's A-frame home, but now muffled voices and strange music drifted from the living room up the circular staircase to the sleeping loft.
The sixteen-year-old friends had come upstairs two hours earlier--around ten o'clock--and Madeline thought Lynette's mother, Dian Reddick, had retired at the same time. At least Mrs. Reddick had turned off all the lights and disappeared into her own room.
"Oh, no!" Lynette's perky round face showed distress.
"She must be having one of those things."
"One of what things?" Madeline asked.
"If I tell you, you have to promise never to tell another living soul."
Madeline had never seen Lynette so serious. "I won't say anything ... but what is it?" She hoped it wasn't some thing kinky. Since her first meeting with Lynette at the school bus stop, Madeline had come to realize her new friend had been raised much differently than herself. Having lived her entire life in the mountain community of Yokut Springs located in the Sierra foothills, twenty miles from Cedarwood, the nearest town of any size, she had to admit her life experiences had been limited.
In sharp contrast, Lynette Parker had grown up in the ritzier neighborhoods of southern California; her last home having been located in Palos Verdes. Lynette's real father, an unsuccessful screen writer, had deserted his family years ago. All Lynette had to remember him by was his last name.
But her mother had remarried a couple of times since; her last husband produced television commercials. He provided Lynette's mother with an ample income as long as she lived far away from him, which was the reason Lynette and Dian had moved to Yokut Springs. What was behind Mrs. Reddick's ex-husband's stipulation, Madeline hadn't heard as yet--but perhaps she would soon find out.
"What's the date today?" Lynette asked.
"August first, but what has that..."
"Lammas! Of course!" Lynette looked relieved, and she crossed her sturdy, sun-browned legs in front of her as she perched on one of the twin beds. "Mom's just having a meeting of her coven."
Madeline tossed her long, dark hair over her shoulders with a flick of her wrists. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."
Taking a deep breath which swelled her bosom beneath the oversized T-shirt she wore as a nightgown, Lynette's words tumbled out on top of each other. "My mother is a witch."
Madeline sighed. She stepped over to the old-fashioned dressing table and stared at her image in the mirror. Lynette loved to shock her. But did she really think that she was so naive?
Taller than most of her friends, Madeline had learned to be skillful with make-up, using her knowledge to accent her brown eyes so they appeared larger, to diminish the width of her nose, underline average cheekbones, and to give an added glow to an already healthy complexion. She fiddled with the bow at the neck of her pink-and-white striped nightie. "I don't believe you, Lynette. Witches are only in fairy tales and scary movies."
Lynette, much shorter and rounder than Madeline, stepped beside her.
She grinned smugly. Her honey-colored curls were back-lighted by the bedside lamp, creating an incongruous halo making her look like an impish angel. "Oh, it's true all right...and I'll prove it to you. It's no big deal really. Your mother makes ceramics. Mine practices witchcraft."
Lumping her mother's modestly profitable hobby into the same category with something as weird as witchcraft seemed almost sacrilegious to Madeline. But if Lynette was telling the truth, she wanted to be careful how she phrased her next question so as not to offend her friend. "But aren't witches ... well ... you know ... evil. Don't they do black magic and spells, that sort of thing?"
The evening certainly hadn't progressed at all like Madeline had expected. Oh, they'd messed around a bit trying out hair-dos, but though there was always something Madeline could do with her own long locks, Lynette's natural curls defied change despite all the mousse and hair spray they'd used.
Giggling, Lynette raked her fingers through the profusion of ringlets. "Everyone always has such stupid ideas about witches. All anyone can think of is green skinned hags with warts on their noses flying around on broom sticks. You know my mom isn't a bit like that...but she most certainly is a witch. My grandmother was a witch, and my great grandmother, and so on, as far back as anyone can remember. I s'pose one day I'll be expected to become a witch."
"So what does a witch do?"
"Spells and charms and has coven meetings ... like tonight."
"And who comes to these meetings?"
"The other witches who live in Yokut Springs, of course."
Madeline whirled around to face her friend. "Oh, come on! I've lived in Yokut Springs all my life and I know there aren't any other witches anywhere around!" Though accustomed to Lynette's more sophisticated views and opinions on almost every subject, this was just too bizarre to be true.
"Come with me out on the balcony and see for yourself. It's the only way I know to prove to you that I'm telling the truth." Lynette's blue eyes sparkled.
"Well ... I don't know. I don't want to get involved in something I ...."
"You won't be doing anything except peeking."
"It isn't right for us to spy on your mother and her friends."
"For crying out loud, Madeline, don't be such a scaredy cat! It's nothing! Really no different than me going to church with you. That's what witchcraft is, you know, just another religion."
Wow! That was a good one, Lynette was really reaching.
"Oh, come on."
"It's true. In fact, witchcraft is the oldest religion in the world. I'll get my mom to explain it to you in the morning. Follow me." Lynette tiptoed to the open sliding glass door, dropping to her hands and knees when she reached it.
Reluctantly, Madeline crawled behind her friend until
the girl stopped and sat on the redwood deck, a foot or so back from the railing. Madeline eased next to her, tucking her long legs to the side. The moonlit meadow stretched out behind the house. From their position it wasn't likely the girls would be noticed by those gathered below.
Madeline could hardly believe her eyes; the scene was an eerie spectacle……
Marilyn is an instructor for the Writers Digest School. You can visit her own website at http://fictionforyou.com
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1998
