Young Writers Society

I have no idea why this still feels super rough I hope you can forgive me for that. I will also apoilzge that this is both kind of drawn out and dialogue heavy.

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Wow, this wasn't even tactful anymore. She had lived through screaming voices to what had to be stress-induced sleepwalking. Why wouldn't the universe shove it in her face this time?

Yet her gaze wouldn't stray from the small thing in her hand. It was a bright red warning sign that held a forceful pull. All the same, it formed a deep-seated urge that coated her arms in goosebumps, when she tightened her grip. The ink darkened into the colour of dried blood like a coming storm, one that promised the universe’s secrets with every looping letter. Second thoughts crept into her mind like a whispering serpent, trying to soothe the lump in her throat. Fear filled her senses through deep breaths laced with sandalwood. The smell waned like her resolve.

She wasn't going to mess with a clear satanic cult that left her a literal calling card, right? That was just asking to be murdered.

Perhaps to cool her nerves, the opening riff of Thunderstruck started to play in a bombastic show. Lilian jumped a few inches into the air as if she had gained wings and attempted to take flight. Her body twisted to face the phone on top of her abandoned resting place. It repeated in an endless loop until she trudged towards the couch.

This past day and a half proved Libby possibly had the best or worst suspenseful timing. Either way, she wished Libby used her talent for something else.

When she returned, there was a growing case of déjà vu as the phone shook with anger. It refused to rest in her free hand, making the call almost impossible. Once she managed to calm the phone, dry, somewhat sharp words hit her ear.

“So you are alive,” Libby said.

“I picked up the first time. Don't lose your head. “

She tried to lean on the couch, hoping to imbue a sense of nonchalance into her voice. This created an awkward mimicry of how a model might power pose to stun a crowd. Instead, it felt like horrible flirting between two video-calling strangers. In an act of possible revenge, the poor card that had to go along with it dug into her palm.

“Lil, I don't know where you've been, but I've been trying to get a hold of you for hours.”

Okay, she must have been exaggerating just a bit...

She scrolled upwards to read the long list of missed notifications. Through them all, the biggest thing clogging her screen was an army of texts. Right next to it were a few dozen missed calls scattered through time. Guilt bit into her stomach, threatening to consume her with each attempted call or altered version of ‘Hey, just checking in.’

Shit, she didn't even know where she was.

“Libs, I’m so, so sorry. I was taking a little mental health break. “Lilian averted her gaze, trying to calm the rising pitch of her voice.

Anything would be better than saying. “Oh, she's spent the last few hours staring at her wall after being haunted for half a day.”

“You knew I was going to check in, and if I had to guess, this break involved not eating or sleeping in favor of some rabbit hole. I am happy you're trying to move on, but I am not going through another self-destructive loop from hell, as jaded as that sounds. “

A scoff was set free from Lilian’s mouth, made of annoyance and relief. The sound was light as it drifted through the empty room, coasting along the soundless air. Her hands turned the card back and forth in a mindless cycle. Still, its words struck her mind as if they were lost in some fragmented memory.

“Look Libby, I know you won't believe me, but I have slept. There's just stuff I have to do before I can eat. Cross my heart and hope to die." 

There was a clipped snort on Libby’s side of the phone.

“You still say that? We're not on the playground anymore. “

“Hey! Don't mock me.”

“It's- it’s just cute you sound six again.”

“Do I have to remind you I was in wrestling for a reason?”

“And do I need to remind you high school was nearly ten years ago?”

Very funny, Libby; they're both old then.

“How do you know I haven't been practicing?” Lilian paused, letting the remark hang between them. “By the way, do you remember the place we visited in Salem years ago?"

“What, are you going to go for a visit after fighting the interns or something?” Libby let out a light laugh. “Honestly, I've repressed most of that creepy cult. Thank God you stopped that spiritual stuff.”

“It was immature, kind of like the interns who need to be fought sometimes. However, it wasn't a cult.

Those words seemed to ring empty the moment they became real. Her stomach lurched before shifting into tossing waves. A thick mucus-like feeling coated her throat and seemed to seal it shut for a few long minutes. However, her fingers seemed eager to say all she couldn't as they crossed over each other like braided rope. Libby’s breathing, although soft and steady, felt like a piercing accusation.

By the looks of it, the occult wasn't done with her.

“Earth to lil… Speaking of work, I have some reports to do, but I should be free this evening,” Papers rustled in Libby's hands as they tapped against her desk, the very same desk that was almost obsessively neat. “If you're not eating right away, why don't I drop something off? Think of it as my treat, okay? “

“Yes, Mom...”

“Oh please. If you keep neglecting yourself, I might call your actual parents.”

A muffled voice sneaked through the phone as snippets of conversation hit her ears. Most of it was buried under the squeal of office chairs and the shuffle of forms. Even with her walls in front of her, the gaps of silence painted the picture of a house she knew but never owned. Here she stood, waiting to be let in as she traced letters with her fingertips. No matter how many times she followed every loop, she couldn't soothe the sense of foreboding entrenched in the ink.

“Sorry, I’ve got to go. Although I will make good on that threat if I have to. “Soon, Libby’s words melted into a click, and she was left with her thoughts.

The air was brimming with an unspoken choice when the phone screen went dark. For a second, Lilian took in a long overdrawn breath, waiting for the smell of burning sandalwood or lilies.

She wasn't going to go any deeper into this wonderland-like nightmare. If her family didn't kill her for this, then whatever demon or ghost she let in might. Could the universe pick a different hill to die on, as foolish as that thought was? Maybe she could explain they got the wrong woman for all this occult nonsense. Anything would have been worth it if she could return to reliable things like taxes.

With a deep breath, she dialled the number. Her eyes darted between the card and her phone in a paranoid frenzy, as if the floor would crack open in plumes of dark smoke and huge flames that hit the ceiling. Instead, it rang in a hollow tone while she kept her eyes locked on the card.

Of course, no one picked up. It had to be a cruel prank or cosmic fluke. She should take this as a much-needed wake-up call.

A sharp sound drew her gaze away before a room unfolded on the other end. The chime of bells mixed with the crackling of matches being lit. Footsteps came and went in a calm rhythm, the mundanity clashing with the otherworldly sounds around it. Underneath it all were soft, prayer-like whispers made in Latin and Hebrew. They blended into unintelligible muttering. Still, without meaning, they wrapped around her skin and sent shivers up her spine.

Lilian's face buckled in confusion while she stared at the phone like Medusa, trying to turn people into stone.

“Why hello, stranger. How is it that we have crossed paths today?” A woman said in a calm yet wispy tone.

Getting this far wasn't in the plans.

“I-I heard that you were my guides to an… uh, different side. Someone thinks I need a push.”

“I don't know where you found us or what you think we dabble in.”

Okay, that’s something you would hear before being killed. Maybe Libby was right.

“You gave me a card, did you not? Now, are you trying to kill or recruit me?”

“Goodness No. If we were going to do either, we would know who you are. Is this a prank?”

Shouldn't she be the one asking that and not them?

“Again, you know enough about me to send a card to my door. So unless you're pranking me, the question still stands.”

“How could we send you a card? We don't even know who you are, miss...?” The end trailed off like a faint whisper hidden under someone's breath.

Even the cult was gaslighting her. How pleasant of them.

“I’m looking at the card right now. You are The First Sinners Coven, aren't you? “Lilian paused waving the card around in her hands. “And I’m not giving my first name until I know that I’m safe.”

“Whoever you are, you're not a normal person. So I am afraid I have to press the issue. It could also be a last name, if you prefer.”

With her current track record, she might be tricked into giving her real name if she lied. Thanks to the devil or whoever is pulling all the paranormal shit.

“You know you aren't very helpful for being my guide to the other side.”

“Oh, we can be just to the right people. Hence, giving your name. “

“Is this like an odd Faye or supernatural thing?” Lilian’s annoyance seeped through every word.

“Not exactly, but his highness is picky and you want answers. That's why you called, isn't it?"

Perhaps it was time to give in.

“Fine, Edenbrough.” There was an elongated pause as the chimes died out.

“Come again, ma’am.”

“Edenbrough, my last name is Edenbrough.”

Whispers swirled around the phone, a sense of shock threaded through them. Footsteps echoed against her ears like a drum line, stretching out for minutes. Different voices would join the fray for seconds at a time. Phrases were muttered just outside of being heard. A gust of wind filled her ears as if she were being passed around in a hurried game of hot potato.

“Uh, thank you, I guess. This means I’m safe, right?”

“Of course, after all, you have his journal. How is it treating you?”

“What do you mean, his journal? How did you know I had a journal? “Lilian's shaken voice asked

“It's much like you said. We are your guide to the other side, and we know more than you think. With a legacy like yours, we would be foolish not to give you that knowledge."

A legacy like hers; she was a normal person with a normal family.

“So you guys dabble in tarot as well. Let me guess, you also know my dad somehow.”

“Oh, miss, tarot is just the icing on the cake. Anything in the journal you can see, we can guide you in.”

“You're treating it like it's all real.”

The stranger let out a shocked scoff before she regained a sense of mystical professionalism.

“This isn't a fairy tale or sleepover urban legend. It's all as real as science, and we’re to make you see that.”

There was no way any of this was true.

“You can't summon a demon, can you? “

“Doesn't the journal already tell you? You just need three simple things.”