The Medallion
The sound is deafening, like a hailstorm against a tin roof, yet I can hear my each breath in my ears.
Suddenly, as if in the eye of a tornado, it was silent and I slowly turn my head to look up at the rolling flames. Before my eyes, I watch as it forms into a woman, with the gentlest eyes I have ever seen. Her fiery hand reaches out and touches my face and I wince with the fire sizzles my cheek, yet left no mark. I want to let go of the crystal in fear, but I can’t. I want to cry in frustration and pain, but I can’t. I am only to watch the woman stare at me with penetrating eyes.
She leans forward again, and takes my face in both her hands. I pant with the heat, yet try not to pull away. She is closer now, and I can feel the powerful flame of her face and then her hot lips are on mine.
The fire surges through my body and I gasp against her mouth, my body arching towards her. I want to pull away, I want to be released. I feel my skin sizzling and my wide eyes look down to watch my skin glow red.
Suddenly, she releases me and I gasp in breath, the crystal quaking in my hands as the fire is sucked back into its small form with a whoosh of air. I pant and sink to the ground, the crystal dropping beside me.
Jarod is jolted from his slumber, sitting up and looking around slightly dazed. He was sweating and the sheets were tangled around him. Pulling him self free, he slid from the bed, his knees wobbling underneath him. He reached out and grabbed at the back of a chair, steadying himself, before making his way towards the bathroom.
Inside, he leaned over the sink and washed his face with cold water, the last of the dream still fresh in his mind. His body shivered and he cupped his hand under the water again to splash his face.
He wondered what the dream had to do with, and thought back to the last pretend he had in Salem, Massachusetts about the stolen medallions from an old jewelry store. He shivered when the owner of the store told him about the witch trials that were back in the 1700’s, where innocent people were accused of witch craft and were killed.
Sighing, he straightened and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes went wide. Around his neck, hung a silver medallion. With a bright, red crystal.
Miss Parker entered her office, only to stop short to see her brother standing beside her father in a deep discussion. Both men looked up at her, but only her father smiled.
"Angel," he said, as she slowly approached the two.
"Daddy, what are you doing in here?" she asked, and turned narrowed eyes to her demented brother. "Why are both of you here?"
"Your brother and I were just talking about the Jarod chase," her father began and she tensed, before covering it with a stony expression.
"And...?"
"Your brother wants to have a shot at leading the project," Mr. Parker said and smiled at Lyle. The psycho returned the smile, but it was quickly wiped away when he looked back at her.
She grinned a twisted white tooth sneer and took a step towards the pair. "A shot? You can’t be serious.
This is my chase, I am the one that leads the pursuit."
"But, maybe you just need a break from it, Angel," the older man offered, placing a large hand on her shoulder. "Let your brother try at bringing the pretender back."
"In pieces," Parker snorted, before turning her icy eyes to Lyle. "Since he is so fond of slicing people up."
"Dead or alive," was all that Lyle said, but Parker only blinked.
"I’m sorry, Angel," the older Parker said, dropping his hand from her. "You can still help out, but Lyle is now the one that gives the orders." Miss Parker snapped her head away as her father exited the office, before she turned her stabbing glare to Lyle.
"I will burn in hell before I take orders from you, Thimbles," Parker growled, taking a step out of his way and gesturing towards the door. "Get out."
"Let’s work together, sissy," he cooed in mock innocence. "Together, we can do great things."
"Like hell," Parker snapped, thrusting her hand at the door again. "Get out, or get kicked out."
"Jarod doesn’t stand a chance with both us," Lyle said, refusing to exit the office. "Two heads are better than one. With your background with the rodent and my leading abilities, we could catch the freak once and for all."
"Leading abilities?" she snorted. "You couldn’t lead a horse to water."
Lyle shook his head, before pushing past her towards the door. He opened it and looked over his shoulder at her and grinned. "Willingly or not, you will be taking orders from me."
"Yeah," Parker growled. "Taking them and shoving them up your ass."
Lyle snorted, made a move of looking her up and down, and then exited the office, leaving Parker to shiver in disgust.
Jarod hissed with pain and put his hand back under the water, his skin sizzling. After his attempt at trying to take off the medallion, his hands were now burned.
His heart was beating wildly and his mind was desperately trying to find a rational answer to all this. The dream, the medallion and its refusal to come off were starting to scare him. Shaking the water droplets from his hands, he turned the faucet off and exited the bathroom, walking over to the nightstand and lifting up his cell phone.
The number was like second nature to him, and soon he was listening the ringing on the other line.
"Sydney," was the answer.
"Do you believe in witches, Syd?"
"Jarod," Sydney acknowledged. "I was hoping you’d call. Haven’t heard from you in weeks."
"Do you believe in witches?" Jarod repeated his question, as he took a seat on the bed and fingered the silver-chained necklace.
"I’m not sure," the older man sighed, and then smiled. "Besides Miss Parker, I never came across one.
Why you ask, Jarod?"
"I had this weird dream," the pretender confessed and looked out the window of the hotel room. "About a red crystal. It’s hard to explain."
"A crystal.?" Sydney asked. "Maybe it’s a symbol of something. You should look it up."
"Yeah," Jarod sighed, glancing back down at the long chain on his neck and wondered if he should tell him.
"I woke up." he slowly began. "From that dream. And found a medallion around my neck."
"What do you mean, found?"
"It just appeared," Jarod said. "It sounds crazy, I know, but, it won’t come off. I try to unhook it or pull it over my head, but it burns me."
"Burns you? Jarod, are you all right?"
Jarod swallowed hard and shook his head. "I don’t know anymore, Syd."
Pulling the phone from his ear, he hung up and tossed the phone onto the bed next to him. Lifting the medallion up to look at it, he shook his head. "I’m going crazy," he mumbled and then gasped to watch the crystal start to glow red. "Holy-"
"What’s wrong with you?" Parker’s sharp voice asked, penetrating through his thoughts.
Sydney blinked and looked up at the brunette. "Jarod just called."
"What did Wonder Boy have to say, this time?" she asked, crossing his office to the overstuffed chair that sat in front of his desk.
"Something about witches," Sydney sighed. "I think he might be under a lot of stress."
"Well, speaking of stress," Parker huffed. "Daddy put Lyle in charge of the pursuit."
Sydney craned his head in surprise. "Lyle?"
"He claimed baby brother deserves a shot at bringing our pretender in."
"Can you handle that?" Sydney asked, and Miss Parker snorted, looking away.
"I don’t care what the thumbless wonder does," she said and stood from the chair. "Just as long as he doesn’t take my chance at freedom."
Jarod dressed and headed out into the warm Chicago sun. Walking down the street, Jarod smiled shakily at passing people and reached up to touch the medallion through his navy shirt, making sure it was still there.
There was a large public library at the end of the block, Jarod not wasting a heart beat before climbing the stone steps to the front door. Upon entering, the cool air conditioning hit him and he smiled gratefully to be out of the heat. He looked around, before crossing the large area to the directory. Before he reached out for the drawer marked W, a dark haired woman tapped him on his shoulder and he turned to face her friendly smile.
"Can I help you, sir?"
The woman must have seen his shocked expression, because her smile faltered and she craned her head in confusion. His wide eyes took in her gentle eyes and familiar face, shocked to see the woman from his dream standing before him.
"Do I know you?" Jarod asked, shakily.
"I don’t think so," she replied with a smile, before looking him up and down. "But, I could get to know you."
Jarod was a bit taken back by her come-on, but he forced a friendly smile at the young woman. "Actually, could you direct me to the witch section?"
Her smile died on her lips, before she looked away with hurt. "Sorry, I’m usually not that forward with guys," she turned her head to look at him. "But, I was drawn to you."
Jarod smiled again, blushing slightly. "Thank you," he said, paused and looked down at her nametag. "Ivy.
But, I’m here to research witches. I need to find out some things about medallions and witchcraft."
Her eyes went wide. "Oh, you’re serious!" she exclaimed, and then laughed. "I thought you were making a metaphor to put me down." Turning, she gestured for him to follow her and Jarod trailed behind her through rows and rows of neatly kept books.
Finally, they reached the designated section and she turned to him and smiled. "Here you go, Mr..?"
"My name is Jarod," he introduced and she took his hand in hers.
"Jarod, I like it," she smiled. "I’m Ivy." Gesturing towards her nametag, she laughed nervously. "But, you know that already." Clearing her throat, she looked down, as her face grew red and mumbled something under her breath.
"Excuse me?" Jarod asked, lifting both eyebrows.
She looked up at him and shook her head. "I was just congratulating myself on how idiotic I sound."
Jarod blinked, wondering why someone would want to be congratulated on that, but didn’t comment. "You weren’t idiotic, Ivy."
"Thanks Jarod," she smiled. "Well, if you need any help, I’m your gal," she claimed, gesturing at herself with her thumb. "I mean. Helper."
Jarod smiled kindly as she turned to walk away, her oval face once again colored red. Shaking his head, he stared after her for a moment, before turning for the books.
Two hours of researching got him no where, only to the conclusion that he needed to head back to Salem and talk to the jewelry storeowner. Shutting the large book he was reading, he set it back on the shelf and turned to leave.
"Where you headed?" Ivy asked, standing beside him.
Jarod jumped in surprise, before he flashed her a shaky smile. "You startled me," he replied. "I didn’t find what I wanted, so I’m heading out."
She nodded, walking beside him as they made their way to the front. "I was getting worried you never give the books a rest. I wanted to talk to you." They both stopped by the door and Jarod turned to hear what she had to say. "Look, I don’t do this a lot. Hell, I don’t do this at all, but, I get off work in a couple hours. You want to get something to drink?"
Jarod was flattered and he showed it with a dimpled grin. "I would love that, Ivy," he said, and then sighed. "But, I can’t. I’m just heading through Chicago and I need to get moving."
"Oh," she said, lowering her eyes. "They’re always on the move," she whispered to herself, but Jarod heard it and was about to question her when she looked up at him again and smiled. "Well, it was nice helping you.
I hope I helped you out on your little fetish for witchery."
Jarod laughed. "Yeah, thanks." Turning, he flashed her one last smile before walking out of the library.
Descending the stairs, he couldn’t help but think of Ivy and her resemblance to the woman in his dream.
Shaking his head, he looked back at the large stone building and was surprised to see Ivy standing in the window, watching him. He waved, but something twisted deep in his gut at the smile she returned back.
"Anything?" Lyle asked, entering the office and looking at the three that occupied the room. Miss Parker looked up from the report she was reading and sneered at her twin.
"Don’t worry, Lyle, you’ll be the first to know," she snarled, before lowering her eyes back to the paper.
"I’m sure I will," Lyle sighed, looking over at Broots, who was sitting behind the computer screen.
"How’s it coming?"
Slowly, the tech peered out from behind the computer and gulped. "Um, fine I suppose, sir."
"Fine?" Lyle repeated, before grinning. "Well, Mr.
Broots, I want to see it going great."
"Lyle, we are trying our best," Sydney spoke up from where he sat on the leather couch. The Parker twin snapped his eyes over to the older man and narrowed them.
"Your best isn’t good enough. I want results."
"Would you shut up?" Parker snapped and Lyle looked at her with wide eyes. "Your prancing is getting on my nerves."
"I don’t prance," Lyle snapped, before exiting out of the office.
Parker smirked, and then shook her head, looking up as Sydney stood from where he sat and walked over to Broots. "You might want to look up anything on witches, Broots," Sydney said and caught the furrowed brow on Miss Parker.
"Why, Syd?" she asked, as Broots obeyed and began to type away at his computer.
"Last time I talked to Jarod, he said something about witches."
"Oh right," Parker nodded. "So, Rat Boy is getting into the craft."
"I’m worried," Sydney confessed with a sigh and plopped down into a chair. "He sounded different on the phone."
"Well, when I catch him," Parker said, casting a look towards the door to make sure Lyle didn’t make a reappearance. "I’ll make sure he gets therapy sections."
By time he reached Salem, it was night and the sky had closed up and spat rain down to the dried land of Massachusetts. Trotting through the rain, he made it into the small store and shook the droplets from his leather coat. The storeowner, a small old man, looked up and smiled at his familiar face.
"Jarod!" he smiled. "Glad you could pay me a visit."
"Hello Farley," Jarod said, walking up to the counter. "How’s business?"
"Great," the old man laughed, but sobered to see the weary look in the young man’s eyes. "Jarod. what’s bothering you?"
"This," Jarod said and pulled the medallion from out of his shirt collar. "I can’t get it off."
The man’s eyes went wide. "Jesus," he gasped, reaching out to touch the crystal. "Where did you get this?"
Jarod shook his head, surprised by the man’s reaction. "I don’t know."
"This is a priceless piece!" the man gasped, Jarod leaning over the counter for the man to hold it in both hands. "I have been searching for this piece for years. I was beginning to believe it was only a legend!"
"What can you tell me about it?" Jarod asked, and Farley reluctantly let it go.
Reaching down, he pulled an old book from the shelf and set it down on the counter to face Jarod. "It was believed to be owned by Lamia, the most powerful sorceress. Legend has it that she was burned at the stake for witchcraft, yet was seen later, roaming the town during the night." Flipping through the old, yellow pages, Farley showed a picture of a woman, her face completely black as she stood in the middle of a fire. "She would lure small children out of the town, later to be found burned alive, their skin still sizzling."
Jarod shook his head in disgust, raising his eyes to look at the older man. "Where was this taken place?"
"In a small town just a couple miles from here," Farley said, gesturing behind him with a thumb. "The town is pretty much deserted now."
"Do you believe the legend?"
"I’m an old fool for those kind of things, and this medallion, you have, just might prove my crazy babble to be true," Farley smiled, before his brow bunched.
"You said you couldn’t get it off?"
Jarod shook his head. "The metal turns hot."
"Hot?" Farley blinked. "What?"
"The latch won’t unhook," Jarod said, reaching behind his neck. "And when I try to pull it over my head, it will turn scolding hot."
"Let’s see," Farley said, reaching for him. Jarod leaned over the counter as the older man slid the necklace until the latch was in front of him. Fiddling with the latch, the man grunted in frustration, before lifting it up and trying to pull it over Jarod’s head.
"Ouch!" he yelped and ripped his hands away, blowing on his fingers.
"See?" Jarod said with wide eyes, reaching up and clutching the medallion. "What do I do?"
"Jesus Christ," Farley whispered, staring down at his hands. "The legend is god damn true!"
"Farley?" Jarod urged.
"I don’t know." The older man looked up at him and shook his head. "I don’t know, Jarod."
Clenching his teeth, Jarod glanced down at the book on the counter. "Can I borrow that?"
Farley glanced down at the book and then nodded, picking it up and handing it over in a daze. As Jarod spun on his heel, Farley called after him, "Jarod, be careful."
"Salem, Massachusetts," Broots said, looking up at the two that stood after him. "That’s the only place it came up with. There was those girls that were hung for sorcery way back when."
Parker glanced at Sydney and then shrugged. "Shall we?"
"You have to call Lyle," Sydney said as Miss Parker turned to leave.
"Damn," she snarled under her breath, before pulling out her cell phone.
The town was deserted, Jarod noted, looking around at the small, old buildings that surrounded a cracked, paved road. There was hotel on his left and Jarod pulled over beside it. Getting out, he looked around at the looming buildings and dark shadows, before he turned to look inside.
Well, it wasn’t completely unpopulated, for an old woman looked up to watch Jarod enter the lobby. Her beady eyes looked him over, before she craned her head forward in a manner Jarod found rude. "What do you want?"
Jarod blinked in surprise, and then looked around.
"Can I have a room?"
She stared at him for what seemed like an agonizing moment. "A room? Do you know how long I have been waiting for some chap to roam in here and say the very same thing?"
"Too long, I imagine," Jarod mumbled and winced when the woman gave him a yellow toothed grin.
"You can bet all that nice, brown hair on your head," she barked, before reaching and practically hacking a key at him. "Room 13 is all yours."
Jarod caught the key almost on instinct, before taking a step forward to sign in.
Miss Parker looked away from the jet window to Broots, who was again, busy on the computer. He seemed to feel her eyes on him and he looked up at her and smiled. "Nothing yet, Miss Parker," he said shakily.
"He needs to sleep," Lyle cut in. "There has to be a room in Jarod’s name."
"He’s working on it," snapped Parker and Broots flashed her a grateful look, but she refused to look at him, still boring her eyes into her twin. "If it weren’t for us, you would still be back at the Centre, pretending to be searching for our pretender."
"I don’t pretend," Lyle snarled. "And if I didn’t know any better, I would say you have an obsession with the lab rat."
"You don’t know any better, Lyle," Parker snapped in reply, before she glanced down at her watch and huffed. "How long is this flight?"
"We’ll be down in an hour," Broots informed.
"One hour too long," Parker grumbled, slumping back into her seat. "By then, I will be one less of a sibling."
The crystal was there, just out of my reach, and I lift a hand up to grab at it, but only clutch at air.
The stone glows with brightness and I blink and look away, finding myself lying flat on my back. I try to sit up, but as usual, can’t move. Only my head and eyes can I move, and I turn to watch the fire seep slowly out of the crystal like a river, flowing over my body.
I gasp as the heat touches me, and arch upward into her fiery embrace. My wide eyes intake her smiling face, gentle eyes caressing the sight of me. She lifts a flaming hand to my face, running hot fingers over my eyelids and over my lips. I want to scream in the pain at what the flames have caused, but can’t get a word out, only pants and gasps escape my parted lips.
She seems to enjoy her control and lies on top of me, I still pinned with an invisible force. I pant at the overwhelming heat, sweat pouring down my brow. I’m burning a live, I think, I’m burning alive!
Her eyes stare deep into mine, as she slides her hands over my naked flesh. I want to move away- I so desperately want to move away, for she was burning me, my skin sizzling. I arch upward again, my head leaning into the soft surface I lay upon, and with a surprise jolt to my whole body, I let out a scream.
Jarod screamed and bolted upward into his bed, his hand automatically reaching up to clutch at the medallion that hung around his neck. The heavy metal was warm against his chest and hand, and he squeezed it until he felt it indent into his palm.
Opening his hand, he looked down at it and took a shaky sigh. "This has to be one big nightmare," he mumbled, before looking around the old, dusty room.
The room, not slept in for what looked like years, seemed to be in reasonable condition. The owner, however, obviously doesn’t take much care to the hotel, as she should, so the room was still on the dusty side.
Sliding from the sweaty sheets, Jarod padded his way over to the window, looking out into the warm morning sun. The town looked more alive in the morning light and Jarod inhaled deeply, before turning to get dressed.
As soon as he was packed, he heard the hum of an approaching vehicle and peered out the window out of habit. His heart made a leap at the sight of those whom stepped out of the car and made their way towards the lobby. Cursing under his breath, Jarod grabbed his bag and took off for the door.
Not wasting a minute, he sprinted down the hallway in desperation to find the backdoor, finding it and bursting outside. Rounding around the small hotel, he peered around the corner to where his car was still parked.
"Freeze, Jarod."
He froze in fear, before slowly turning to see Lyle, and Parker standing there with aimed guns. He forced an uneasy grin and looked straight at Parker. "Wow Parker, you are looking rather evil today. Did you do something with your hair?"
"Shut up, Rat Boy," she snapped, taking a step towards him. "It’s time to come home."
Jarod’s eyes skipped between Lyle and Parker as they approached him from both sides, his heartbeat rapidly rising as he thought of a plan for escape. And just as their hands reached out for him, an ear piercing ringing shot through the air, and all three winced in surprise. Jarod looked down and went wide-eyed to see the medallion glowing red through his shirt.
Looking up, he noticed that Lyle and Parker saw it too and they were staring at it with shock. Reaching in his shirt, he pulled it out to see the small flame whirling inside the crystal.
"What the hell?" Parker asked, as Lyle reached out for Jarod.
"Hell with it," Lyle spat. "You’re mine, Jarod."
Just as Lyle grabbed Jarod’s arm, the fire shot out of the medallion with such great force it sent Lyle flying and Jarod backwards against the wall. The air was knocked out of the pretender, and he gasped, his legs fumbling to keep his balance. Miss Parker’s eyes went wide and she dove for the ground to dodge the rolling flames coming her way, cursing and covering her head with her arms. Lyle landed and rolled a couple feet away from her, grunting in pain and fear as he looked up to see the fire just inches above him.
Jarod clenched his teeth, his body pressed painfully against the brick building as the fire still surged out of the necklace. Finally, it ceased and Jarod weakly feel to his knees, panting and feeling awfully queasy.
"Holy mother of God!" Lyle shouted, as Miss Parker climbed to her feet. Jarod looked up at her through his eyelashes, waiting for her to pull her gun on him, but surprised him when she ran to his side.
Leaning down beside him, she placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him and another to reach out for the medallion. "What the hell is this?" she asked, but Jarod didn’t answer, gripping his stomach and with the other hand, holding himself up. "Jarod?" he vaguely heard Parker asked as he couldn’t sit any longer and sunk to the ground, unconscious.
He became aware of a wet coolness on his forehead and he groaned, his eyelids lifting slowly to look up into the face of Miss Parker. She seemed surprised to see him awake and quickly moved away from his side on the bed, crossing the room to the window. Slowly, Jarod lifted a hand to the washcloth and pulled it away, trying to sit up when he was yanked back by handcuffs that held his other hand over his head. Cursing in pain from his pounding head, he resigned to the cushions of the bed and sighed.
"What the hell happened this morning?" Parker asked, turning from the window to look at him. Jarod grimaced as he tilted his head to see her from where he lay.
"Where did you get that medallion? Syd told me about the conversation you two had, and not able to get the damn thing off. Lyle almost lost another finger trying to do that very thing."
Jarod couldn’t help but grin at that, but quickly wiped the smile away when Parker gave him a look to kill. She crossed the room and snatched the washcloth he still held in his hand and placed back on his head.
"You are still running a fever," she said stiffly and he smiled at her concern.
"Didn’t know you loved me that much," Jarod grinned.
"I don’t," she snarled. "Thick headed rat," she added for good measure.
"Why aren’t we on our way to the Centre?" Jarod asked and quirked an eyebrow.
Parker blinked and looked away. "Sydney put on a speech about your health being the most important thing right now and. Blah, blah. Lyle didn’t have much to argue with since he experienced your little exploding jewelry." She paused. "Answer my question.
What happened? Where did you get this?"
Jarod sighed heavily. "I don’t know. I really don’t.
It just appeared right after my pretend here."
"Right after?" Parker repeated, crossing her arms over her chest and shaking her head in confusion.
"What were you doing here?"
"I was helping a man recover stolen items from his shop. He sells jewelry and such, and one night, there was a break in and someone came in a stole only the medallions."
"Could that be a stolen one? Someone could be trying to frame you."
Jarod shook his head and then grimaced. "No, Farley, the shop owner, doesn’t own this one. He said that its priceless and that he’s been looking for it for years." Jarod then looked around the hotel room and spotted his bag and DSA’s under the chair across the room. "In my bag is a book. Farley gave it to me. It tells about a witch named Lamia. She was believed to own a medallion similar to mine."
Parker turned and received his bag, lifting it over to the bed and began digging through it. Pulling out a Mr. Potato Head, she shot him a look with her eyebrows raised in amusement. "I knew fresh air would get to your brain," she snorted, before coming across the book. She flipped through it, coming across legends and myths of witches, and grunted, looking up at the man that was on the bed. "This old guy doesn’t have much of a social life, does he?"
"Just open it up."
Parker found the page and began reading through the stories. With a quick intake of breath, she slapped the book shut and looked up at her prey. "Why are you trusting me with all this? We never talked about your pretends before."
Jarod stared at her for a moment, with unreadable eyes, before he whispered, "I don’t know who else to go to- I don’t know what else to do."
Before Parker could respond, Sydney entered through the connecting door and saw that Jarod was awake. The old man smiled, before he crossed the room to the pretender. "How are you feeling, Jarod?"
Jarod nodded sharply and hissed at the sharp pain in his head. "I will be fine, once the head ache goes away."
Sydney took a quick look at Parker, before saying, "Miss Parker told me about what happened. I’m sorry I didn’t fully believe you."
"It sounded crazy even to me, Syd," Jarod reassured and forced a shaky smile. "And I was the one with it around my neck."
The physiologist nodded and then sat down, reaching out to study the medallion carefully. It wasn’t large, his palm almost three times larger, but the silver metal was still surprisingly heavy. Sydney stared at the red crystal, before he shook his head. "I have never seen something like this before. It’s
beautiful."
Jarod sighed. "But a pest. How do I get rid of it?"
Sydney clenched his teeth and then shook his head. "I don’t know, Jarod," he confessed. "I guess it either comes off with clippers, or comes off when it wants too." Jarod could almost see the thought cross through Sydney’s eyes, and the older man looked up at the pretender. "Tell me about the dreams you have been having."
Jarod inhaled shakily, casting a brief look at Parker, who stood a couple feet away from them, listening to every word said. He gestured with his eyes towards her for Sydney, but Parker caught it.
"Don’t have to worry about me, Boy Wonder. You trusted me with the other pieces of info, why not the dreams?"
"They’re kind of private," Jarod whispered, and Parker smirked.
"That’s great," she said. "I love those kind."
"Parker," Sydney said and looked at her
disapprovingly. "Could you just give us some privacy?"
"I want to hear this, Syd."
"Fine," Jarod sighed, shaking his head. "She can stay. Just don’t make any comments." Parker smiled, but made no move to say anything else.
Jarod took a deep breath, before he began. "Before I woke up with this on me, I had a dream that I was in some kind of stone house, where there was this room with a stone pillar in the center of it. I was drawn to the crystal there, like I was unable to control my movements. And as I lifted it up, it ignited into a flame and it formed into this woman. She was beautiful, with these incredible eyes."
"Didn’t know you liked your women well done," Parker smirked and both Jarod and Sydney gave her a sharp look. She blinked and then shrugged her shoulders.
"What?"
"No comments," Sydney said simply, then turned to Jarod. "Go on."
"Well, when she touched me, my skin would burn," Jarod said shakily, closing his eyes. "I wanted to pull away, but I couldn’t. Then, last night, I had almost the exact dream, but I was lying down and she was on top of me."
Parker lifted both eyebrows, and frowned in consideration. "*Now* I know your fantasies."
"She wasn’t having sex with me, Parker," Jarod growled. "She was just lying on me, touching my face and bare shoulders. I was engulfed with fire, but I couldn’t move."
"Hmm," Sydney murmured, placing a finger to his lips.
"What does it mean?"
"I’m not sure, Jarod," Sydney said, getting up from the chair he sat at. "Obviously the necklace has something to do with it."
"Obviously," Parker mumbled, rolling her eyes and taking a step towards the bed. "Well, I’m sure the Centre can take care of that crystal when we get there." But, Parker stopped short and leaned back wide eyed as the medallion glowed red. "Shit, that’s not going to spit again, is it?"
Jarod blinked and then looked down at it. He reached up and gripped the medallion firmly in his palm, the heat of the metal slowly dying. Jarod opened his hand and sighed with relief. "That’s the first time I was able to control it."
"Maybe you can control it, Jarod," Sydney suggested.
"You just need to find out a way." Taking a step towards him, Sydney laid a hand on Jarod’s head and sighed. "Well, get some sleep. Your fever went down, but you are still hot." He turned to face Parker. "I will take the next watch."
Parker turned to leave, but not before she checked the cuffs one last time. She glanced down at him briefly, before she turned and left the room. Sydney watched her go, before he flashed Jarod a smile and leaned forward to whisper, "Just between you and me, I think she was jealous." Jarod couldn’t help but laugh.
It was pitch black and I strain my eyes to see, wandering through the darkness with my eyes outstretched to guide my way. My ears suddenly fill with chanting, unable to make out the words. It sounds like a crowd- an angry crowd.
And, as if someone switches on a dim light, I am facing the small town with people surrounding a platform in the middle. I look around in confusion, at the angry faces and their fists that are thrust in the air. I avert my eyes towards the platform and I blanch in surprise.
There was the woman, her gentle eyes wide with pain as she burned at the stake. I pushed through the crowd towards her, desperate to try to stop the cruelty, and as I reach the wooded stand, her eyes lower and look straight at me through the crowd of people. I hesitate from climbing the stairs and want to turn and run as the flames stretch out for me.
Then the scene around me fades, before I begin to feel rope burn, my sizzling skin, the sweat pouring down my brow. I arch against the post I am tied at, screaming in pain as the fire eats at my flesh. I sob and look around the crowd that is doing this to me- doing this to her. How could they be so cruel?
I struggle against my bonds, desperate to free myself.
God, it is so hot. So painful. I scream again, pleading for them to let me go. But, as I’m burning, my flesh black and raw, I wonder when I am going to die.
Sydney bolted out of his seat when Jarod began to scream, running to his side and trying to calm him.
Reaching out, Sydney hissed in surprise when Jarod’s flesh was burning hot to the touch. Parker sprang through the door, Broots close behind, their eyes wide in surprise to see Jarod squirming on the bed as Sydney frantically tried to hold him down.
"Parker," he huffed. "Help me!"
Parker and Broots ran for the bed, the tech stopping short only to stare in shock. Parker reached down and slapped the pretender, but he refused to wake up from his nightmare. Parker’s wide eyes met Sydney’s.
"Shit Syd," she gasped, then looked down at the glowing medallion.
"Jarod! Wake up!" Sydney shouted, shaking the younger man, but he continued to scream, shaking with terror.
I can’t take it. I’m dying! I feel my wrists bleed as I pull roughly at the ropes, desperate to get away.
The smell of burnt flesh fills my nostrils, and I can’t help but inhale it in, along with the smoke, making me cough violently.
God, please. Let me die! Let me die now!
Jarod began to cough, his whole body quaking and Sydney shouted for Miss Parker to uncuff him quickly.
She obeyed, and as soon as the pretender was free, Sydney pulled him up into a sitting position, his body falling limply against him.
"Jarod," Sydney whispered, shaking him. "Please wake up."
My eyes droop, my body slumping against the ropes. I can’t breath anymore, and the pain was growing numb.
The flames are fading, and I watch them slowly grow dimmer.
I feel hands on me, gripping me, shaking me. I want to open my eyes, to face the stranger, but can’t. I’m too weak. Too tired. I’m dying.
"Sullivan!" someone whispers. "Sullivan, wake up!"
Sullivan? I open my eyes, my brown ones meeting her gentle face. She smiles at me, but the beautiful face is gone in a snap.
Jarod gasped and opened his moist eyes, meeting the concerned face of Sydney, who was cradling him in his arms. The older man’s face lit with surprise, before he squeezed the pretender’s shoulders in what seemed like a reassuring gesture.
"Jesus, Jarod, you had me scared!" he exclaimed and Jarod found himself terribly weak.
"What. What happened?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.
"You were having a nightmare, it seemed," Sydney answered, his face a mask of concern. "You were screaming and coughing. What was it about, Jarod?"
Jarod gently pushed away from Sydney and sighed when he felt the soft cushion of the bed beneath him. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I don’t know. It was different. I was. I was burning at the stake."
Broots shifted uneasily as Parker and Sydney exchanged worried looks, but the shrink that was the only that spoke. "Maybe you should get some more rest."
"No!" Jarod snapped, trying to sit up. "I can’t sleep! I might go back there." Jarod caught the looks on the three other occupants and he bunched his brow in confusion. "She. Called me Sullivan."
"According to this site, Sullivan means ‘dark eyes’," Broots said, looking over his shoulder at Miss Parker.
"Look up Lamia," she said, tapping him on the shoulder. "Anything that might suggest a medallion or someone named Sullivan." Broots nodded and began his work.
Just then, Lyle stormed into the room, his eyes blazing. "Alright, we wasted a day here, Parker. I think our pretender is well enough to move." Lyle blinked as he took in the computer, and he frowned.
"What the hell? Why are we doing research?"
"Cool it, Sparky," snarled Parker. "Broots is trying to find a way to free Jarod from that medallion. Don’t want another mishap like the one this morning, right?"
Lyle opened his mouth to argue, but taking a look down at his burnt hand, he thought it over. "How long is this going to take?"
Parker shrugged and pierced her lips. "I don’t know."
"Damn it," Lyle cursed, spinning around, and gesturing towards the connecting room. "I can’t wait around for this. He could escape anytime!"
"Sydney is with him-"
"Exactly!" Lyle said, pointing a finger at her. "He is just the person to help him get free!"
"Don’t you dare," Parker threatened, her voice dangerously low. "The only person that underestimates Sydney, is me!" Parker grinned at Lyle as he shook his head, running a gloved hand through his short hair.
"If you can’t handle it, then go back to the Centre and wait."
"Oh right," Lyle smiled, nodding his head and then turned blazing eyes to her. "You bring back the freak and get all the credit! And then the whole Centre throws you a party."
"Nonsense, Lyle," Parker grinned. "I don’t think the Centre is big on parties."
Lyle growled under his breath. "I am in charge of this chase! I demand we go back now!" And with that, he spun around and stormed into the connecting room.
Sydney was startled out of his reading, looking up to watch Lyle stalk across the room towards Jarod. The pretender was jerked from his short nap, blinking up to see the psycho leaning over for him for his cuff.
"We are going back to the Centre," Lyle said and flashed Jarod a twisted grin. "So you won’t be able to escape. I’m in charge of you now, Jarod."
"Lyle!" Sydney shouted, just as Parker entered the room.
Lyle was having difficulty with the cuff, having one burnt hand and the other with no thumb, and fumbled the extra key he had. Dropping it, he raised his hand to strike Jarod in frustration. Jarod tensed as he watched his hand hurling towards him, but Lyle was suddenly thrown backwards onto his butt with a great force. The pretender blinked in surprise, before looking down at the glowing medallion.
Lyle sat there on the floor in shock, before he shook himself out of his revere and looked over at Parker, who was smirking at him. "I guess. I will wait at the Centre," he mumbled, getting up from the floor.
"Whoa." Broots murmured, looking over to where Parker stood by the window. "I found something."
"What is it?" she asked, crossing the room to read over his shoulder.
"There’s a whole site dedicated to the legend of Lamia," he said, his eyes wide and then pointed to the screen. "It says here, that her real name was Gavrila Williams and she was burned at the stake back in the 1700’s. Actually, 1692 to be exact. She was among the nineteen men and woman to be hung and burned at the stake. About a month or two after her death, witnesses claim they saw the young woman roaming the streets of the town. Children ended up missing and were found burned a live in her stone house."
Parker’s eyes went wide. "Jesus."
"Oh, it gets better," Broots insisted, holding up a hand. "She was married to a young man named Sullivan, who was later burned at the stake for witchery as well, after the finding of the children. Upon the night of his death, a huge fire broke out through the town and destroyed half of the town. People believe it was Gavrila avenging the love of her husband." Broots gulped and looked up at Parker’s paling face. "Some say, the ghost of Lamia is searching for her lost husband. Sullivan."
"Are there pictures?" Parker asked, waving her hand.
Broots nodded numbly, before moving the mouse to click on the link. Parker’s eyes went wide, taking in his dark hair and dark eyes. "My god."
Sydney caught the confused look of the younger man
when Jarod lifted his head from his inspection of the medallion to look at his mentor. "Why are you guys trusting me uncuffed?"
Sydney smirked, setting down his book and casting a look over at the connecting door. "She won’t admit it, but we are all concerned and intrigued by this.
Besides, considering that necklace’s power, we won’t be able to go anywhere."
"Well, seeing the look on Lyle’s face," Jarod laughed, holding up the medallion. "I don’t think I want to get rid of it."
"You won’t believe what we have found," Parker announced, entering the room and holding up pieces of paper. Jarod took the papers from her and began to read through the first one, his eyes widening and pointing to the name.
"Sullivan! Her husband was named." Jarod trailed off, his face slowly paling as he read through the rest.
"So, what this is saying is that she is searching for her husband. Searching for me?"
"If the legend is true," Parker said, masking her concern for his reaction. "Then, she thinks Sullivan is you, Rat Boy."
He shook his head. "Why?"
"Because," Parker continued, reaching down and flipping to the other page. "You are almost his twin."
Jarod’s eyes went wide, staring down into the face of man in the black and white picture. He swallowed down the large lump that had suddenly formed in his throat, before handing the papers back to Parker. "So. I having this medallion on, she thinks that I am her.
Her husband?" Jarod stood from the bed and began to pace.
"Maybe your resemblance to the man made her think that you are Sullivan," Sydney spoke up and Jarod looked over at him. "And that she had placed the medallion on you in hopes to bring her husband back."
Jarod turned to Parker, his brown eyes wide with uncertainty. "Was there anything on the medallion itself?"
Parker shook her head. "It didn’t mention it at all."
Jarod gripped the round metal around his neck, his hand warming the cool metal quickly. "Maybe, it was their secret," he whispered distractedly.
"What?"
Jarod blinked and looked up at her. "Nothing. Maybe I can find something. Broots needs a break, anyway."
"No, Jarod, you need your rest," Sydney protested, standing from his chair.
"I’m fine, Syd," snapped Jarod and then flashed the older man a look of apology. "It’s just that. It’s only a fever and all this is. Getting me spooked."
"It’s getting all of us spooked," Parker replied and Jarod looked up at her with a thankful look.
"Thank you, Parker," he said and she quickly twisted her head to look away. "Thank you for not taking me back to the Centre."
"Like it was said before," she began, turning her head to stab him with her eyes. "I can’t with you and that metal around your thick neck. Besides, if all of this is true, I don’t want your wife following us to the Centre." And with that, she spun on her heel and stalked out of the room, leaving Jarod to shake his head in bewilderment.
"I may be the one with the medallion, but she’s the one with the witch problems," Jarod smiled.
Parker was pacing the floor behind him, and Broots looked away from his screen to her nervously. "Miss Parker. Could you just.?"
She looked at him and then dropped her arms from her chest. "Fine," she snapped, stopping her pacing and taking a seat on the bed. Sighing, she glanced over at the window, the sky dim and the sun already setting.
"A whole day. I should call, Daddy, tell him what’s going on... If Lyle hasn’t already."
"Will he believe you?" Broots asked, not looking away from his research.
Parker smirked to herself. "I didn’t say I was going to tell the truth about what’s going on. Besides, it should be enjoyable to hear what he has to say about Lyle’s insane rambling about what had happened."
Broots smiled at her over his shoulder, but she missed it as she pulled the cell phone out of her suit pocket and dialed his number.
"Daddy?" she replied. "We are still in Massachusetts.
We are staying in a small town not far from Salem to wait for Jarod. Yes, we believe that the pretender is still in the area. Yes, of course I will keep you posted. Thank you, Daddy." She snapped her cell phone shut and looked over to where Broots had just gone wide-eyed. "What?" she barked and the tech jumped.
"I just found some new pieces of info," Broots murmured. "This site says that Lamia was known to be a very powerful witch. Everyone in the town was scared of her because of her black clothes and Voodoo, but when she married, they finally excepted her. She had given Sullivan a medallion." Broots paused and glanced up at Parker. "For a wedding present and promised him his own power. And when he dies, the medallion is supposed to bring his spirit to her. But, upon the discovery of the children’s bodies in their home, the town had accused Sullivan of witchcraft and burned him at the stake without the medallion."
"So, his spirit was lost," Parker murmured,
wide-eyed.
"But, just now," Broots said slowly. "He was found."
Sydney was keeping an extra close eye on the pretender, after finally convincing him that sleep was the best right now. Sydney set down his book and leaned for the bed to check his fever. The shrink grimaced at the heated flesh, and then shook his head.
"Sydney," Parker whispered from the doorway, and the older man rose his eyes to meet hers. "We found something on the medallion."
The house is dark, and I cautiously creep through the blackness, unable to ignore the smell of burnt flesh.
I wrinkle my nose in disgust, casting a look down at myself to make sure that it wasn’t I who was burned.
Satisfied, I raise my eyes once again and gasp to find her standing in the doorway down the hall, staring at me with those eyes.
She was dressed in a white gown, her raven black hair sweeping over her face with an unknown breeze. I shiver, but I am unable to feel the wind.
I am suddenly drawn to her, and my feet move towards her without my command. I am scared just at the sight of her, something in my gut telling me this was wrong- she wasn’t supposed to be here.
"I’m not dead, Sullivan," she whispers and my heart leaps at the sound of her voice. "I will live forever, and so will you." With that, my eyes are drawn to the medallion around my neck, unsure why. "Come with me, my love."
My body moves down the hall, the smell of burnt flesh growing stronger. She moves aside so I can enter the stone room, my mouth opening to scream, but only gasp.
Bodies. Nine of them were strewn on the floor, embers glowing orange on their burnt flesh. All of their eyes are gone, left with empty sockets and mouths twisted open in horror.
I back away from the sight, but feel her hand on my lower back to stop me. Her breath is in my ear when she whispers, "They disserved it, Sullivan. The town disserved this. They hated me, killed me, so now." She gestures towards the bodies of children with an open hand. "I killed their futures."
"No," I whisper, closing my eyes against the scene.
"No."
"No!" Jarod screamed, bolting up in bed and slamming heads with Miss Parker, who was leaning over him inspecting his medallion.
"Shit!" Parker shrieked, stumbling backwards with a hand on her forehead. Jarod groaned and lifted a hand as well, blinking and looking up at her dazed. "Oh hell," she murmured, inspecting the flesh. "I am going to have an goose egg larger than Mount Rushmore."
"Sorry, Parker," mumbled Jarod and then looked around. "Where’s Syd?"
"He and Broots went to get dinner," she replied, dropping her hand from her head. "What was the dream about?"
He looked at her and sighed shakily, before lowering his eyes. "I saw. The children."
Parker’s face dropped in sympathy, but quickly masked it when the pretender rose his eyes to look at her.
"That had to be awful." Jarod didn’t comment as he slid from the bed, standing and padding his way to the bathroom across the room. She watched him disappear, before sighing and reaching for the remote on the nightstand.
Jarod leaned over the sink with his face dripping with water and exhaled slowly. Reaching out blindly, he grabbed at the towel and dried his face, unable to ignore his trembling hands. What mess he has gotten into, he thought, slapping the towel down and looking up into the large mirror over the tiled counter.
He stared at his reflection with contempt, his brown eyes holding all the exhaustion he felt and closed them slowly against their image. Standing there, breathing in and out deeply seemed to calm him and he stood like that for what seemed like a full minute.
Suddenly, he felt the medallion move, and opened his eyes just in time to watch the necklace in the reflection tighten around his neck. He gagged, his whole body pulled upward with the medallion as it wrapped itself around him, standing only on his toes.
He clutched at the chain helplessly, unable to scream for help and only able to gasp for small amounts of air.
His eyes widened to see her slowly form in the mirror, her eyes staring at him, waiting for him to die. Her raven hair blew out from behind her oval face, and she reached out a pale hand towards him.
"Join me Sullivan," she whispered.
Jarod gasped, kicking his legs in desperation to get away. He felt the necklace tighten an inch and he gagged, his fingers digging into his neck to grasp the chain. He felt his face glow red, and he reached for the door. Too high to grab the door handle, he began to scratch at the wood, only his fingertips able to reach.
Please Parker. Please!
"Give yourself to me, Sullivan!"
Kicking out a leg, he grunted when his foot slammed into the wood hard, and felt himself being lifted higher off the ground. His limbs were growing heavy, his neck numb with pain and he fought to stay conscious.
Parker.
Parker’s head snapped towards the bathroom, hearing a loud slam from within. Her brow furrowed, waiting for further noise. Nothing.
Getting up, she slowly crossed the room to the bathroom and knocked on the door. "Jarod?" She listened for his reply, but there was only silence and she pressed her ear against the door to hear. "Jarod, if you found a way to escape down the shower drain, I am going to beat you like a cabbage." Nothing once again. Taking a step back, she kicked out, the door popping inwards and slamming against the opposite wall.
She stepped into the room and gasped at the sight, her eyes widening in fear. "My god! Jarod!" She ran towards him and reached up to grasp the chain, unable to free him and becoming desperate when his body began to sag limply. "Damn it, Jarod! Hold on!"
She heard someone laugh softly and looked over her shoulder towards the mirror, screaming to see the woman standing there within the glass. "Sullivan is mine!" the black haired woman screamed and the glass shattered, both Parker and Jarod flying backward against the bathroom wall as pieces of the mirror flew around them.
They slid weakly down the wall, Jarod gasping deep breaths as Parker quickly pulled the necklace from its tight grip. She hissed at the indentation on his neck and looked over her shoulder towards the shattered mirror, the woman now gone. Shivering, Parker turned back to Jarod, who was slumped against the wall weakly, his hand rubbing his sore neck.
"Thank you," he croaked, his voice rugged and cracked.
She nodded, before eyeing the necklace. "Broots found more about the medallion, and I think you should know."
The next day, after a full morning of research, the foursome found themselves standing just outside a house a mile from the town. It was incredibly old, the roof of the stone house caved in and the windows completely gone. Jarod looked up at it and paled, unknown to the other three as they began their trek inside.
He blinked out of his revere and followed slowly behind, his heart beating rapidly as he stepped into the building. The kitchen was small, the floor covered with dirt and wall sidings. There was a stream of sunlight coming through the roof from where it collapsed inward, providing the only light to the dark interior.
"Jeez, this place is old," Broots announced
unnecessarily, casting a look in Sydney’s direction, who was inspecting the kitchen counters.
"It gives me the creeps," Parker murmured, pulling her suit jacket tighter around her and frowning in disgust. She leaned down to get a better look at an old book on the floor, the cover completely faded and water stained. Shaking her head, she looked up at Jarod who was staring down the hallway to the other rooms. "Jarod?" He blinked and looked her way. "You okay?"
He nodded silently, before wrapping one arm around his waist, and the other rubbing his neck, as he looked around the kitchen. Parker watched him for a minute, before continuing on with her inspection. She came to an old wood stove, rusted, but still in a fairly good condition and she reached out and ran a hand over the dusty top, trying to imagine the time a long time ago where this provided the only heat.
"There’s a cellar," Sydney announced, pointing towards a trap door on the far side of the kitchen. The door was slip in half, allowing Sydney to see into what seemed like a black pit. He shivered and looked up at Broots, who inspected it as well.
"No one in their right mind would want to go down there," Broots mumbled. "I’m checking out the other rooms." Parker looked over to where Broots disappeared down the hall, before she turned to follow suit, Jarod and Sydney close behind.
After the inspection of two bedrooms and a bathroom, they came to the room at the end of the hall and Jarod gasped when he stepped into it. All three looked his way in surprise, as he stared wide-eyed across the room. They followed his line of sight to see a stone pillar standing just in the corner of the far right.
It was wide, standing at mid thigh height, and could have been used as a table.
"What the hell is going on?" Parker whispered, walking past them to cross the room. She studied the pillar closely, tracing a finger over the coverings that were on its sides and furrowed a brow in confusion.
Jarod took a sharp intake of breath and covered his nose suddenly. "You smell that?" he asked, and Sydney and Broots looked at him oddly. "It. Smells like burnt flesh."
Broots leaned forward and sniffed the air, before he shrugged at Sydney. "Smells musty to me, that’s all."
"We don’t smell anything, Jarod," Sydney answered him, watching as Jarod began to circle around the room, his eyes roaming the floor.
The bodies were long ago cleaned up, but Jarod could still see them, their small bodies twisted in agony.
He swallowed hard and backed away, his back hitting the far wall. "Jarod?" Sydney asked with concern, crossing the room to stand by the pretender. "What is it?"
"Oh god," Jarod gasped, as he lifted a trembling hand to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. "Please tell me you see them, too."
"See who?" Parker spoke up, walking over to them.
Sydney looked over his shoulder and down at the floor, only seeing the dusty wooden panels, cracked and weak from age. He turned his attention back to Jarod and shook his head in concern. "Who do you see, Jarod?"
Jarod slowly opened his eyes, looking down at the floor. But they were gone. He exhaled shakily, before he pushed off the wall and shook his thoughts clear.
"I don’t know. I was just."
"Jarod-" Sydney urged, but the younger man just shook his head.
"It’s nothing, Syd," he insisted. "I just."
He looked up and gasped to see her standing in the doorway, she slowly combing at her raven hair. She smiled at him, and pushed her hair back, the sunlight creeping through the window and shining on her face.
Her dress was black, and it touched the ground, making it seem that she was gliding across the room. He stepped back in alarm, surprised to see the house was brightening, the walls white and the floors shining.
Slowly, furniture began to form and he glanced around to look at the wood chairs and tables. He heard her laugh, and he snapped his head over in her direction and was taken back to see her standing a few inches away.
"I love you," she whispered, and reached out a hand for him, fingering the medallion around his neck. "My love is so strong for you." He shook his head, his eyes wide as he stared into her own, before he dropped his gaze to the necklace. It was glowing red, so bright it blinded him. He looked away and then up into her face, finding a large smile on her red lips.
"Sullivan, you are mine forever."
"Jarod?" He blinked and the spell was broken, the room instantly dimming. He blanched and looked around, meeting the faces of three concerned people. "Jarod, what is it?" Sydney asked.
Lifting both his hands, he rubbed his face and groaned. "I’m going insane, Sydney!"
"What happened?"
"I need to get out here," Jarod whispered, pushing past them and running down the hall. The three exchanged looks, and then ran after him. Outside, they found him standing a couple yards away from the house, breathing deeply.
"Jarod, tell us what happened," Parker demanded and the pretender straightened and looked over at the house.
"I saw her! She was there and so were the children’s bodies," Jarod gasped, he turned to Sydney and shook his head. "I can’t do this, Syd. I have to get rid of this damn medallion!"
"Calm down, Jarod," the shrink said softly, gripping him by the forearms. "We will find a way, alright?"
"To own my spirit, I have to die with the medallion on, right?" Jarod asked, glancing over at Broots. The tech blinked, before he nodded. "Why hasn’t she killed me yet?"
"Maybe she doesn’t want to kill you," Broots shrugged.
"But she tried to kill me in the bathroom," Jarod said, taking a look over at the house.
"Well what stopped her?" Sydney asked.
"I came running in," Parker replied. "When she saw me, she screamed and the glass shattered."
"Well, maybe she was jealous. She saw something that you two didn’t, like a strong emotion for each other," Broots mumbled, and Jarod and Parker shot a look at him and he shrunk from the glare. "It was just a thought."
"How about I shove that thought right back in your ear, Melon Head!" barked Parker.
"No, Parker, I think he may be right," Sydney spoke up, and the two turned their accusing gaze on him.
"Not necessarily love or lust. Could be something like the friendship you once shared. She could have felt that."
"The only strong emotion I have towards Rat Boy is bitterness," she snarled and shot the pretender her famous stabbing glare. Jarod just stared back at her, matching her gaze, before both looked away, unaware of the exchanged knowing look Sydney and Broots shared.
After almost arguing the rest of the day away about the sleeping arrangements, Miss Parker got the single bedroom, and in the other, Jarod got the bed, Sydney got the couch, and Broots was reduced to the floor.
Jarod laid awake, listening to Broots’ snoring and Sydney’s even breathing, afraid to close his eyes. He was more exhausted than he had ever been and was so desperate of a dreamless sleep, but he dare not close his eyes.
His mind, as tired as it was, was reeling, wondering why he was always the one cursed. Looking around the dark room, he sighed, glad for the help of his friends. He grimaced. Did he just think friends? Well, as twisted as it might sound, they were his friends, the only ones in fact, and he was very thankful for their support. Even Miss Parker’s.
He smiled at that, and snuggled deeper into the soft covers of the bed. God, she was a pain in the ass, always getting on his nerves, calling him names and treating him like a dog. But, it was her way of protecting herself, and Jarod knew that, so her bites at him didn’t really affect him much. But, as
annoying, insensitive and bitchy as she is, he loved her, and nothing would change that.
His eyes went wide. He loved her. More than anything.
A warm smile tugged at his lips, and he sighed, closing his eyes, hoping the thought of Parker will keep Lamia away. Wishing for just one night of peace.
If only.
She was angry. I could tell. Her gentle eyes blaze with fire, the same flame to which her whole body shared. She hovered over me, as I lay on the rock hard bed, my body, once again, unable to move. Her fiery arms reach down and wrap around my body, and I scream in pain. And when she pulls away, I am on fire, watching helplessly as my body burns away, screaming myself hoarse.
Her hand comes down on my mouth in a flash, and I am silenced, becoming dizzy with relief when the fire is suddenly gone. Her face inches from mine, she pins me with her eyes and draws the words out slowly, "Sullivan, you disappoint me." She pauses, as if I could give her a reply. She continues, "I can see your mind, Sullivan. I can see whom your heart belongs to.
She may own your love, but I own your soul!" She grips the medallion that was laid across my bare chest and tugs at it, until my neck is drawn up towards her, my head tipping back. "I love you. You must love me!"
She takes her hand away from my mouth and I gasp in air, suddenly aware of her lips on my drawn up neck. I can not help but shiver, and she begins to caress my body, kneading my arms with her slender hands. Her caress is everywhere and I pant in order to control myself, wanting so badly to run away from her touch.
"I want you for real, Sullivan," she murmurs against my flesh, and then smiles into my face. "Come to me tonight."
Jarod opened his eyes slowly, his body shivering helplessly in the dark. He looked down at the form of Broots and then over at Sydney to make sure they were both still asleep, before sliding from the comforts of the bed. Tip toeing through the dim light, he threw clean clothes on quickly, and then crept out of the room. Outside, he shivered with chill, before walking the trek towards the small house a mile away.
The house was even more frightening in the dark and Jarod peered up at it and trembled. Wrapping his arms around his waist, he moved towards the door, finding it impossible to see through the pitch black of the interior. He was about to turn back, fear creeping its way up his spine and hopes of ending this tonight dying, when a light flickered on down the hall. Jarod gasped and took a step back in alarm, staring down the hall at the last room.
"Come here, Sullivan," he heard her call, and he tensed. Cautiously, he began to walk down the hallway, aware that the floors beneath him were slowly becoming stronger, the walls around him whiter and smoother. He gasped when a picture frame formed just above him on the wall to his right, staring at it in shock, and then continued onward.
The door was half closed, and he reached a hand out to push his way in. It gave a nasty creek, slowly revealing a brightly-lit room, white walls and shiny wooden floors. It looked the same it did yesterday when he saw her, but this time, it seemed more homey.
And he was shocked to see the sun shining brightly through the curtains. Looking over his shoulder down the hall, he took a sharp intake of breath to see night behind him, the rest of the house completely dark.
"You are more handsome than I remember," she murmured and he spun around to face her to where she sat on a wood rocking chair. Jarod stared at her with slightly wide eyes, his heart beating in his throat as he took in her presence. She wore a long blue dress, old fashioned and crisp. Her legs were drawn over the arm on the rocker, and she seemed relaxed. Except for her longer hair and old-fashioned look to her, she looked just like Ivy from the library. She smiled at him, and her gentle eyes gleamed with the gesture. "You look surprised to see me, my love."
Jarod opened his mouth, searching for his voice. "Why are you doing this?" he whispered, the first time he had ever spoken to her. She looked surprised a bit and stared at him for a moment that seemed to be an eternity.
"You’re my husband," she finally answered. "We belong together."
Jarod shook his head. "No, I am not your husband.
Your husband died a long time ago," he replied and took a step back when she stood from her seat.
"Sullivan," she whispered. "You are alive."
"No, my name is Jarod," he replied, taking another step back when she approached him.
Her brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"
"It’s year 2000," Jarod frantically said, trying to make her understand. "Your husband was burnt at the stake in 1692, right after. You were."
"Year 2000? Burnt at the stake?" she repeated, before she laughed. "Oh my love, you and your games!"
Jarod went wide-eyed as she began to laugh. "No, you don’t understand."
"Oh, but I do," she snarled and he flinched when she gripped him by the arm tightly. "You are mine and only mine, you hear me?" She reached out and pulled the medallion out of his shirt, clutching it tightly in her hand. "Years of searching for my love- for you, I finally found you and was able to give the medallion- your power- back. This is your soul, Sullivan."
"It’s not my soul!" Jarod snapped back, and watched with fear as the medallion began to glow right through her hand.
He ripped out of her grip and spun around, running down the hall in desperation to get away. But, he stopped short and gasped, looking around at the kitchen, seeming to be freshly painted and polished new. He heard her coming down the hall calmly, and he turned to face her.
She smiled at him and said, "Now do you see? You are mine."
Jarod looked around, taking in the sunlight streaming through the windows, which bounced off the shiny wooden surface of the eating table. And then, Jarod’s expression dropped, his eyes suddenly unreadable as he rose them to stare at her. "Yes. Now I see."
"Morning sunshine," Parker grinned, purposely kicking Broots who was sprawled across the floor. The tech groaned and looked up at her from the small nest of thick covers Broots had made for himself. "Did we sleep well?" Parker laughed and stepped over him into the room, looking over at Sydney, who was on lying on his stomach, still sound asleep.
"You’re looking refreshed," Broots grumbled under his breath, waiting for her to be out of earshot.
Parker’s brow furrowed, glancing over at the empty bed, before she turned and pushed open the door to the bathroom, peering inside. "Broots!" she barked, snapping her fingers, and she heard him jump behind her. "Where is Jarod?"
Broots blinked and looked around, before stammering, "I don’t know."
"Well, damn it, find him!" Parker snarled,
disappearing into the connecting room.
"Find who?" Sydney croaked, sitting up, his gray hair matted and out of place.
"Jarod is gone," Broots supplied, and Miss Parker reentered with car keys, determination in her blue eyes.
"I think I know where he might have gone," she claimed, but before both men could get dressed to follow her, she was gone.
The town was bustling with people, all dressed with the 17th century attire with somewhere to go. Most of the woman wore bonnets, while the men had long hair pulled back in a ponytail against their necks, their jackets crisp and clean. Jarod’s wide eyes took in each of their faces, watching in amazement at the old fashioned people went on with their lives, and he caught the smirk on Gavrila’s face as she watched him.
He looked away quickly, averting his eyes to the small village. He couldn’t help but notice some of the faces as they pass them by, many of them narrowed in suspicion. Jarod glanced over at Gavrila, seeing if she noticed too, but her eyes were still trained on him.
"This is your life, Sullivan," she smiled.
"I know."
She entered the house, her high heels causing the floor to creak nosily and she lifted a hand to her neck, forcing her heart down from her throat. Being alone in this house made it even worse and her wide blue eyes sought out each corner of the room.
Moving down the hall, she reached out a hand and pushed the door inward, stepping into the stone quarters. Nothing.
She shook her head softly, her heart aching with each beat. "Jarod." she whispered, and then sucked in a breath and shouted, "Jarod, where are you!"
The medallion glowed and Jarod looked down at in surprise. Gavrila noticed too and shot him a narrowed look, but Jarod didn’t understand why. He reached up and clutched the warm metal, looking away from her steely gaze.
"Witch," someone spat, and Gavrila looked away from him to the person in extreme hatred. "You and your husband are witches!" The old woman looked at Jarod, with his short hair, and then down at his odd clothes, his jacket, his jeans. "Should be tried!"
Gavrila raised her hand at the woman, her fingers outstretched toward her and hissed, "I now allow the devil to come and take your children!" The woman went wide-eyed, before she spun and walked away quickly.
Jarod watched her go, before turning to Gavrila in surprise. She just stared after the lady with a twisted grin, before saying, "Let’s return home."
Parker waited for the other two to arrive, she standing just outside the front door. She wrapped her arms around her waist and peered inside, wondering where he could have gotten off too and hopping he was all right. She sighed, and looked through the patch of trees to the road, waiting for them to come walking up, when she heard something.
Her brow furrowed and her ears strained, as she listened to what sounded like a fire sizzling.
Stepping into the kitchen area, she looked over to where the old dining table sat and her eyes widened to see a dark ash stain slowly spreading over the corner.
Jarod quickly reached out and grabbed the fallen candle, putting out the fire with a dishrag. He looked up guiltily towards the hallway to where his ‘wife’ had just disappeared, and sighed with relief. He was so jumpy and scared to death, he without a clue to how to get out of this mess.
As he wiped at the stained table, he froze, suddenly hit by a thought. The table will always be stained.
Meaning.
He looked up and almost jumped when he saw that she had reappeared in the hallway, watching him. He forced a smile and she gladly returned it, gliding across the room and pulling him off the chair to which he sat.
She ran her knuckles down his cheek, her dark eyes staring intently at his lips.
"I love you," she whispered, and leaned up to kiss him. "I’m so glad I found you." Jarod remained silent, staring back at her with soft eyes. She sighed and stepped away from him, her eyes still on him with intensity. "Come here," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the bedroom.
Jarod hesitated at the door, and she laughed and tugged harder on his arm. "It’s alright, Sullivan," she laughed, and Jarod allowed himself to be pulled into the room. "I won’t bite. Or at least not
tonight."
She lied down on the bed and beckoned him with one finger, Jarod silently looking around for any means of escape. Slowly, he climbed onto the bed, her arms instantly encircling him and pulling him against her.
She smiled into his mildly shocked face, before kissing him hard.
Just as she reached down for the buckle of his pants, pounding on the door startled both of them out of bed.
Cursing, Gavrila looked as if she was going to scream, but merely stormed out of the room. Jarod watched her go, before sighing a breath of relief, and then followed after her.
"Ma’am," a man said from the doorway, Jarod quietly approaching from behind Gavrila. The man glanced at Jarod briefly, before back at the dark haired girl.
"You and your husband are under arrest for witchcraft."
Jarod’s eyes widened, and then heard Gavrila gasp and say in a tight voice, "No, you must be mistaken."
"I’m sorry ma’am. You are to be arrested for trial tonight," was the hard reply, and Jarod looked over at Gavrila in shock.
Parker was still staring at the table when both men arrived, and she looked over at them in astonishment.
"Does it take you that long to walk a mile?"
"Sorry, Parker," Sydney said. "But, you did take our car." Sydney paused, before looking around. "Is he here?"
She shook her head, before gesturing with her hand towards the table. "Did you see this before?"
"The table? Yeah," Broots answered, and shrunk from Parker’s glare.
"Not the table, you idiot. The burnt corner."
"Didn’t pay enough attention," Sydney shrugged, and then looked up at her in concern. "Why, Parker?"
She just shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. Looking around the house, she exhaled shakily and aimed her eyes on Sydney. "Where could he be, Syd?"
Sydney’s eyes filled with concern, and he sadly shook his head. "I don’t know, Parker. I wish I did."
"Did you see him leave? Hear anything last night?" she asked, looking between the men. "You had to have seen *something*!"
Both men shook their heads and Parker huffed in frustration, pushing past them to inspect the house one last time. Standing in the last room, she swallowed down her concern, turned and walked down the hall, unaware of the letters: TRIAL TONIGHT -J, being burned on the hallway wall.
"We can’t leave!" Sydney exclaimed, following her around the room as she packed her things. "He is still here. Somewhere. We have to save him, Parker!"
She paused, her back facing him and heaved a shaky breath. "There’s nothing we can do, Syd. He might have just gave us the slip."
"You know that isn’t true!"
She spun around to face him angrily, shaking her head.
"I know, Syd! But, Daddy called just a moment ago! We can’t stay here forever! They will get suspicious! I’m sorry. I really am."
"Not half as sorry you are going to be after weeks.
Months of no contact," the old man growled, taking a step back from her, and then spun away. She watched him storm out of the room, before she slowly sunk down onto the bed.
Slowly, she pulled her cell phone out, the phone beeping quietly as she dialed. Bringing the phone to her ear, she stared across the room at his duffel bag, still lying on one of the hotel chairs. "This is Parker. Send out the jet. We are on our way."
And with a jab of her thumb, the connection was dead.
"Burn the witches! Kill them!"
"Send them back to hell!"
"Let them hurt us no more!"
Jarod stared at the crowd in horror, everything so familiar from his dream, yet so very different. He glanced down at the wood that was being piled at his feet, as he helplessly squirmed against his bonds.
Raising his gaze, he looked over to the other platform, to where Gavrila was being tied as well and they locked eyes.
This was wrong. The legend was untrue. She was supposed to be burned first and then, the discoveries of the children. Jarod thought it over, then came to realize that he being there- his appearance brought suspicion and pushed the timetables up. He had changed history.
Then he looked down at the medallion, and the truth to all of this came crashing down on him. This wasn’t history. He looked up at her from across the crowd, a smirk playing at her lips as she stared at him. This was her plan all along. To take him back. To have him die with the medallion. To own his spirit- his soul forever.
And, as the wood was lit, the flame growing around him, he knew he was too late, and leaned his head back against the wooden post to which he was held. He gasped as heat rose, waiting for the fire to take him and thought of one thing. Parker.
The medallion glowed red.
Parker looked from the road to the man that sat next to her, who was refusing to speak to her at all. She stared at him for as long as she dared, trying to catch Sydney’s attention, before she returned her eyes to the road. Aware of Broots’ snoring in the backseat, Parker kept her voice low, as she whispered, "I’m sorry, Syd." He didn’t reply, and she sighed heavily in contempt.
She couldn’t help but shake the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach, like something was happening- something horrible. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the wheel, her blue eyes casting out the window in concern.
Jarod. I’m sorry.
Tears streaked down his face, as he coughed violently against the ropes. If the fire didn’t kill him, the smoke surely will. By God, he wished one of them would soon.
His moist brown eyes squinted through the smoke and ash that was bellowing up from the fire at his feet, to the woman on the platform across the crowd. The fire at her feet was just lit, it small, yet growing rapidly. She didn’t seem too worried that her fate was to be done, and she rose her almost black eyes to him.
Coughing roughly, Jarod squeezed his eyes closed and leaned his head back, refusing to meet her gaze. His chest was on fire, and he glanced down to see the medallion glowing a blinding glow. He stared at it with shock, and then gasped and squirmed on the post when his right leg began to feel the fire.
The smoke filled his nostrils and mouth, and he gagged on it, his coughing quaking his entire body. He groaned low in his throat, his body sagging against his bonds, suddenly weak. And as his eyes began to droop, he heard someone scream, "Sullivan?"
Forcing his eyes up, he looked over at Gavrila, but she wasn’t looking at him. Following her wide-eyed gaze, he gasped as he spotted the person she screamed to in the crowd.
Parker inhaled deeply as they pulled up to the small, remote airport, where the Centre jet awaited for them to board. She pulled the car to a stop, and stepped out, waiting for Sydney to wake Broots and then join her.
Looking away from the plane, she locked eyes with Sydney’s across the hood of the car and said, "Let’s go back."
He raced up the stairs to her platform, pulling a knife out to slice the ropes. She fell against him as he pulled her out of the fire, the crowd in shock as the two descended the stairs. Jarod felt himself drop against his bonds, too weak to watch the two racing towards him.
"The witches are getting away!" someone screamed, as Gavrila and Sullivan climbed the stairs to Jarod.
Jarod weakly looked up as Gavrila reached out for him, waiting for his dead weight to fall into the flames, but was surprised when she only lifted the medallion over his head.
He became dizzy suddenly, as if a large weight had been lifted off of him. He coughed, squinting through the fire to watch Sullivan warding off the oncoming crowd. Gavrila lifted the medallion up in front of her, clutching it tightly in her slender hand. It glowed and then spat fire, the few people that had climbed the stairs flying backwards into the crowd.
Gavrila grabbed the knife from Sullivan, and then hesitated, before spinning back to face Jarod. She leaned over the fire to reach Jarod’s bonds, cutting the ropes around his ankles and wrists.
Jarod felt himself falling, but someone grabbed him by the waist and pulled him out of the fire. He stumbled against his savior, looking up through his eyelashes to see his almost complete twin. He was too weak to show his shock, his knees buckling and he began to sink to the floor of the wooden stand. But, the man that held him pulled him to his feet and lifted him over his shoulder in a fireman carry.
He was aware of being carried down the steps of the platform, before his eyes became too heavy to keep them open, and lost consciousness.
Parker drove like a mad man, the nagging feeling still raw in the pit of her stomach. She was aware of the two men clinging to their seatbelts, but made no move to acknowledge them. She knew something was wrong. She just knew it.
Not until Salem came into view did she decrease the speed of their town car, driving through the city with uncontrolled anxiety. And when the end neared, she increased the pressure of the accelerator and sped onward to the small town.
He’s not sure how they got there, but when he came to, he was lying on the soft comfort of the bed in the small stone house. Groaning, he eased himself up into a sitting position, looking around the room
disoriented. Lifting a hand to his forehead, he grimaced in pain, slowing sliding from the old mattress ‘til his boots hit the floor.
Using the wall for support, he exited the bedroom, and began his trek down the hall, pausing to watch the scene unfold in the kitchen as if in slow motion.
Gavrila was clutching the medallion that hung around Sullivan’s neck, whispering something to him that was unheard to Jarod. Her eyes were filled with
infatuation, as her dark eyes drunk in the sight of her lost lover.
And as the two lovers leaned in for a kiss, Jarod carefully made his way back to the bedroom, suddenly tired. Crossing the room, he lowered himself onto the bed and as he sat down, it gave and hit the floor, the spell gone in a snap.
Jarod blinked, and looked around the old, aged bedroom and gasped. Looking down, he found himself sitting on a 300-year-old brass bed, broken and tarnished with age. Then his eyes rose to his chest and smiled. The medallion was gone.
"Jarod?" someone called. Looking up, Jarod strained his ears to hear, wondering if he was hearing things, when he heard it again, "Jarod?"
"In here!" he shouted with a cracked voice. He got up and stumbled out of the room, nearly running into Parker, Sydney and Broots in the hall.
"Jarod!" Sydney said, stepping forward and pulling the younger man into an embrace. "Thank god!" Parker gasped, looked him over and suppressed a smile, before realizing the absence of the medallion. Then, she couldn’t help but smile.
"Welcome back, Rat Boy."
"Thanks, Parker," Jarod whispered into the phone and smiled at the hesitant silence.
"Yeah, well," she grunted from the other line. "You would have done the same. Besides, I would pick witchcraft over the Centre any day."
Smiling, Jarod nodded knowingly, his eyes staring down at the Chicago streets below from where he stood on the fifth floor of the old hotel. "Well, thanks anyway."
"Whatever, Boy Wonder," she sighed. "Oh, and Broots just checked the net. I think you should too."
"I’ll do that," Jarod smiled. "Oh, and Parker? Catch me if you can!"
Snapping the phone shut, he looked away from the large window of his lair, and crossed the room to his computer. Logging onto the Internet, he clicked on search engines and typed in, *The Legend of Lamia*.
Jarod smiled, when the computer came up with zero matches.