Melabeth Forgive Me, For I Am Sin! (30 page)

A screech of terror brought my attention back to Alice. She had the clerk in a hold with her mouth to her neck. I knew then that the clerk was the one who had shrieked, and I went back to looking at dolls. After a moment or two I heard a dull thud against the floor and I became aware that Alice was now standing next to me.

I asked, "Was she disagreeable?"

Irritated, Alice responded, "She told me I didn’t know what…
I …was talking about. I was there… at the doll maker’s house when this doll was made. I sure as hell should know what year it was."

"The doll in your hands?"  I inquired.

"Yes this doll and she even called me a liar."

"The doll?"

She half laughed, "Shut up."

I asked, "Is that your doll?"

She smiled like a villain, "Is now.
Plus, what
would she do with it?"

"Because she doesn’t understand the history of the doll like you?"

Alice giggled, "No silly, because she is dead."

I looked around, "Alice… stop making all the dolls look at me. I don’t like it." Alice smiled slyly but did not answer, nor did the dolls stop looking at me. That is when a male Indian caught my attention. I reached over and picked it off the shelf as I said, "I like this one."

"Put that back," she about screamed it.

I was shocked by her outburst, "Why?"

Her eyes narrowed, she was on the edge of a fit, "Because it is an Indian. They come in the night and kidnap, rape and scalp… that’s why."

I almost laughed, "Seriously?"

Alice hung her head and her tone was more hurt then angry. "You don’t know my past. And before you say it, I know that not all Indians are bad. It’s just that doll reminds me… of old memories…ones I try to forget."

I nodded and put the doll back on the shelf. Then I covered him with another doll, "Out of sight, out of mind."

Alice gave me a small smile, "Do you know my past?"

I shook my head, "No."

"Well it’s a long story, but I will give you a small piece. After many years together and after many stories, you will know me better."

"Ok," I was excited to her about her past.

"Well it started long ago, 1587, that was the longest year of my life. I was a part of the Roanoke colonies and the only survivor. It was led by John White a relative of mine. My mother and father weren't even on the official list. It is believed that there were 115 colonists, but this was not accurate. Of course back then it was unusual to keep accurate records.

When we arrived, the local Indians were already hostile to us. The last colony had turned on them because they believed the Indians had stolen a silver goblet. The Indians killed all of them, so they were angry to see us arrive. John White had decided it would be best to sail back to England for more men and supplies, but we all knew it had to do with the birth of his new granddaughter. She was the first English child to be born in the Americas; her name was Virginia Dare.

They weren't gone long before the first attacks took place. In their very first raid, they killed my Dad and mother and kidnapped me and my brother. My brother was younger than me, about twelve, if I remember right. They hadn't taken us far when they made us sit so they could rest. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but it didn’t take long before they were fighting.

There were obviously two sides to this fight; finally more than half of the braves left. It was me, my brother and three Indian braves. I was about to find out what they were fighting about. The three who stayed wanted to rape me and
proceeded to do so. My brother broke free of his bindings… he saved me, but at the cost of his life.

He had attacked the braves and even got hold of one of their weapons. It did him no good, but it did allow me to break free and start running. They gave up chasing me when I was in sight of the fort. Later, they found my brother’s body."

I wiped away a small tear from her face. I whispered, "I had no idea how much we had in common. Did they… you know?"

She nodded, "I really didn’t fight them. I was so scared…" her voice became quiet and small, "I wish I would have fought them."

"I know, but what could you have done? Did you get them later?"

Alice shrugged, "I married a man, a man with a curse, just so I could have revenge upon them. I killed lots of braves, but I never could recall what the Indians looked like, so I'll never know. It doesn’t bother me anymore, for now I know there is no revenge."

"What does that mean?"

Alice smiled, "You'll see." She changed subjects without pause, "Look at this doll!"

I knew she was done talking about her past.

*                    *                    *

Alex was trying to keep me still as I struggled under him. I reached up and bit him. With a terrible crunching sound I ripped just some of the black stone away from his throat. He yelled in pain then roared in my ear, "I was going to give you a going away present, but you're not worth it. I think I will just kill you instead."

He pulled back his free arm about to run me through with his claws… when a steel spear came bursting out of his chest.

He screamed as a set of arms grabbed him and pulled him off of me. There Alice and Ezra held him, one on each arm, Alice with ferocity in her eyes, "Did you forget something wizard. Melabeth stop standing around already."

I jumped to my feet, "Right, sorry. Let’s finish this." I attacked his neck. I clawed with all my strength ripping at his stone neck. At first it just tore my claws away, but, after a few more hits, pieces started to break free.

Alex was fighting Alice and Ezra with everything he had. Once or twice he almost broke free. He laughed darkly, "You can't stop me; I'll kill all of you."

Ezra grunted, "What kind of magic is this?"

Alice responded with, "I have never seen it."

Then it hit me; it was death magic. It was magic he had learned from the book; that is why he had to wait until night. I was going about this the wrong way. I stopped attacking him and my bloody fingers started to heal quickly. I could see the victory in his eyes. I narrowed my eyes at him, "Your time is up."

I bit his shoulder, but this time I didn’t worry about penetrating his black armor. I put my mouth on the black substance and started to suck, I sucked in the same way I did with the undead wolves. The hard black armor started to soften around my mouth and in seconds I was swallowing it. I understood now, it was some kind of spirit armor, and I devour spirits.

Alex yelled out, "No… HOW CAN YOU DO THIS? What are you?"

I pulled back to see the man. It was easy now for Alice and Ezra to hold him. I grabbed his head, one hand on both sides. "I am death; time to go and meet my father."

I tried my hardest to savor the moment as I tore off his head.

決議

I was on my knees, just looking at Alex’s head. Alice squealed something about a celebration. Ezra didn’t say anything, but I knew he was in no mood to celebrate. Ezra lifted Alex’s head off the ground and started to examine it. He pulled the hair away from the ears, and for the first time I noticed how pointed they were.

Ezra spoke dryly to Alice, “Does he look familiar? You know, without the beard, and with the pointy ears.”

Alice was spinning in circles, and didn’t even stop to look. She was giggling when she answered him, “Can’t say that I ever saw him before.”

Ezra was still puzzling when he blurted out, “Richard Alexander Longaeva. I am pretty sure this is him.”

I interjected with, “It’s not who he is… it is who he was, and he was never shit to me.”

Alice laughed at my joke, but with a more serious tone answered Ezra. “Well, if you’re right; we’re all in trouble, but we can worry about that later. For now let’s burn the bodies, mourn our dead and celebrate our victory.”

Michael came into the clearing; he was carrying a large bobcat. He joined our conversion, “I am in no mood for celebrating.”

Ezra asked, “What’s the cat for?”

He answered Ezra, “It’s not a cat; she is a shifter. I caught her sneaking away from one of the cabins. That is what took me so long; I had to catch her. I am glad I did, if that is really Richard Alexander Longaeva.”

Alice said solemnly, “We can’t leave any witness that we killed him.”

Michael handed the cat to Alice. I asked, “How old is she?”

Michael shrugged, “I would guess maybe five or six.”

“You can’t kill her,” I protested.

Alice stuck her tongue out at me, “I would never kill a child. I would never allow one so innocent to be harmed. She will be my pet, and I will name her Cat.” Alice sat upon the ground and started baby talking to the cat while pulling her fingers through the fur.

We spent the next few hours gathering all the evidence we could find. We put everything in the cabins and then set them ablaze. My mind was full of thoughts, and the hike back to the truck was over in no time. We were all back at our camper before the morning light.

The bobcat turned into a little girl at one point. She had dark skin with black hair. It didn’t take long, with Alice’s mind power, to find out that she was the daughter of one of the shifters. Her mother had passed away, and the father had no sitter, so the fool brought her along. Alice made her think that Ezra was her father, and it wasn’t long before they were cuddled up in one of the beds.

I was watching the child sleep when Alice broke into my thoughts. “It would be much easier for the child if you were to blood her. Shifters make great guards for vampires, but, unlike any other vampire, all she would need is your blood once.”

“I don’t know,” I replied.

Alice asked me, “What is your next step?”

“I plan on going to North Carolina, and dealing with my father. I will go alone; you have all done enough.”

Alice smiled, “I know you feel bad about Charlotte, but Ezra does not blame you.”

I responded with, “I know. She was a warrior like Ezra, and that’s how warriors die.”

Ezra had not been asleep; he moved his head and opened his eyes. He looked at me and then gave me a wink, and, with that, laid his head back down with the girl. He gently shifted the sleeping girl so she was lying on her back. He whispered, “Blood her now, before you leave.”

I wasn’t sure about this, but since Ezra asked, I did it. I walked next to the sleeping girl and cut my wrist. I put my wrist to her mouth and at first she fought it, but then she began to drink. When I pulled my wrist away the little girl’s eyes sparkled as she whispered, “Goodnight mommy.” She turned her head and went back to sleep.

It was a strange feeling blooding the little shifter, but it was nice to be called a mommy. I lay in bed and with heavy eyes I fell asleep.

When I awakened I got ready to head out on my own. I had no peace, not even after killing everyone who raped and murdered me. Still this was not over until I dealt with my father. Alice had told me, by blooding the shifter that she would grow to protect me. It was the only way to insure that she kept the secret without killing her. The little girl was a fifth generation shifter and was powerful.

I said my goodbyes to Ezra and Alice. Michael followed me out to the car. He asked, “Hey what ever happened to Clyde?”

I flatly said, “I killed him.”

Michael looked a little shocked, “Why?”

I stared at Michael then finally said, “Do you really love me?”

“You’re dodging the question.”

I disagreed, “I didn’t dodge. I slammed the door shut on that conversion.”

Michael shook his head with a chuckle, “You’re right, I don’t even care what happened, and yes I have feelings for you. That hasn’t changed since the cave. Even after you turned into that scary monster girl, could you ever forgive me?”

“I thought about it, and there is nothing to forgive, but I have come to realize that maybe I should get to know you first. When I get all this revenge behind me… maybe we could go out sometime?”

“I would like that.”

I smiled, “It’s a date.”

姉妹

I was angry as I sat there on the plane. This was the second night since the sword had been destroyed. I knew now that Carrie was gone for good. As much as the girl annoyed me… she was like a part of me.

I have prayed to God and he does not hear me. I have killed all the men who raped and killed me. Still my father lives; he had betrayed me; he sold me for drugs. He’s the reason this happened to me… the murder of his own daughter no less. I trusted my dad to take care of me, to protect me, to love me.

Now he can trust me… to kill him, to take away everything he is, or will ever be.

I opened his file and looked at it; I had a nice long flight to North Carolina. Ezra had looked it over and somehow came to the conclusion I should leave my father alone. He said something about a changed man. I guess somewhere in this file there will be proof of his sainthood.

According to the file, my grandparents searched for many years for me but found nothing. My father spent most of this time in a rehab center, probably so he didn’t have to deal with the guilt. A year afterward he was offered a job by a lumber mill out in North Carolina. It figures that after all those years hugging trees and telling me how men are destroying the forest, he now cuts them down himself. After being at the lumber mill for a few months, he started going to some church where he met some whore. My father and this whore, whose name is Jessica Lane, got married August 14, 1977. Even Elvis was destroyed by this, because he dies two days later on a toilet. I personally hold this women and my father responsible for Elvis.

On May 16, 1978 this whore spawns some child, a little girl. Her name fills me with rage… Mindy Melanie Dare; how dare they give her my name? I guess it makes sense; after he sold me, he probably thought better make another one they fetch a good price when they are older.

I read further down the page; apparently the whore worked at a restaurant. Oh how sad, she was killed in 1983 by a drunk driver on the way home. Now I felt bad for calling her a whore, but still it was probably the best way out of her marriage with my father, you know before he sold her. I guess this really messed my father up because he quit his life of killing trees and became a minister of a church. Now he preaches and teaches lost youth in Salisbury, North Carolina.

My half sister just turned 14 a few months ago, and what's this, she makes straight A’s. That’s funny; Dad never let me go to school. It looks like he’s all involved in little Mindy’s life; that’s nice, real nice. I bet he might not sell her for drugs. I bet she’s a real keeper.

The worst part about all this, when I kill him, he will go to heaven. It will be like rewarding the bastard. I happen to believe in the afterlife; I believe in God. My opinion has always been, if I am wrong who cares, but if I am right, God will care. Plus after finding out that my new father is death himself, well it’s hard to believe in nothing. I can’t help but hope I’m wrong, because I’m going to hell when I die. Still I would like my dad to get a head start; so the question is how do I make sure he goes to hell?

I landed in Charlotte where I rented a car; from there it was about forty minutes to Salisbury. I checked into a small motel on the outskirts of town. That night I jumped in the Impala that I had rented and went for a drive. It was a small
town and not much going on after dark. I had never been to North Carolina before; I had heard this area referred to as the Bible belt.  It didn’t take me long to figure out why. There was a church on every corner; I found three churches within view of each other. It’s kind of funny; in Vegas there are bars on every corner. I found my dad's church and parked in the lot.

I noticed there were a lot of cars already there; it was Wednesday night. Maybe they have church every night, what else would they do in this town? I didn’t get out of my car, I wasn’t ready. I needed a plan, but first things first, I would need a disguise.

I got back to the motel with hands full of white plastic bags. I spent about two hours at Wal-Mart, buying stuff for this new plan of mine. I noticed that there was a bar behind my motel; that’s funny I hadn't known they
had continental breakfast
for vampires. The bar gets out about two a.m. That would give me plenty of time to dye my hair.

It was about one a.m. when I was finishing the last rinse on my now jet black hair. I had learned one thing about the Goth style… that it dramatically changed the way you looked. I didn’t need my father catching a glimpse of me and freaking out before I was ready for him to do so.

It took less than an hour to find a couple of drunken men heading out of the bar. I followed them to their car, and then drained them. I was doing the world a favor; they had no business driving anyways. I didn’t kill them, not because of my kindness, but rather I didn’t need that kind of attention around the motel room where I was staying.

I shut the door to my motel room and fell backwards onto my bed. Licking my lips and tasting the blood that I had missed, I watched the room spin from the alcohol. I had a heck of a buzz going on. I kicked my shoes off and laughed as one of my shoes banged hard against the far wall.

I awoke around ten in the morning feeling good about the rest of my plan on how to deal with my father. Quickly I picked up the phonebook; the first thing I needed was a location to work from.

The lady that answered at the real estate agency was southern and way too sweet, but her over the top helpfulness… well, it was helpful. I told her that I worked for an investor looking to buy up property to open a night club. Sounding so young, it was better to act like I was
employed
gathering information for someone else.

I asked her if there were any old buildings that were up for lease or purchase where my company could put a club at. I explained it would have really loud music, so it would be best if there were no homes close by.

After going over about a dozen buildings in the downtown section of Salisbury, I was starting to think this wasn’t going to work. The realtor, fearing she might lose a client, hesitantly mentioned, “Well sweetheart. I don’t know how some of the locals would take it… but just outside of town there is a large church. Now this church has been empty for some time.  Ain’t no house near, or much of anything but forest, fields and possums. Still, a church with a night club, it might not go over in these parts.”

I tried to hold the back the excitement from my voice, “You're probably right, still can I have the address? Maybe my boss might want to swing by and take a look.”

After hanging up, I rushed my shower then got dressed. With my sunglasses on I hurried out the door, bags in hand, loaded the car and checked out of the motel. An hour later, I was leaving the Wal-Mart parking lot for the second time, with a trunk full of supplies.

I passed the road to the church three times. The driveway was a gravel road with large potholes. The trees grew
thick around the entrance. About a couple hundred yards down the long driveway the woods thinned out and finally opened into a clearing. The grass was high, unkempt and just the way I wanted to see it. No one had been back there in a long time.

The church itself was old looking, made up of dull red brick and a wood roof that looked rotten to me. I walked around the large building, surprised that only one of the windows was broken. The one broken window had been boarded up with plywood. The wood over the window had turned brown and black and was splitting apart; it had been a long time since anyone had done anything to this building.  I worked my way back around to the front of the building where I had parked.

At the front, were two large dark stained wooden doors and for whatever reason looked to be in better shape than any other part of the building. I walked up and touched the doors; I felt no power here. I had been hoping that with no people here the power that might have protected this building had faded. The door handles had an old rusted lock and chain wrapped around the handles; with one hand I broke the lock and slid off the chain.

With a hard tug the old door gave way and the doors flew open. The air was dusty and smelled funny, smelled like mildew and rot. The glass windows that had surrounded the church had scenes of Jesus in them. Even covered with dirt, they allowed a lot of light to come into the old church. You couldn’t see through the windows, and I liked that. In fact, the light the windows let in was so bright that I didn’t even take off my sunglasses as I entered the building.

What I found next really surprised me. There were two rows of nice looking pews, fifteen per side. The dark red wooden floors were dusty, but it looked as if they would clean up in no time. I walked in front of the pews; there was a raised part of the floor for the stage but nothing on it. I looked up, and there was a balcony with more wooden pews in it.

I found that there were two staircases on either side of the church leading up to the balcony. What was really nice was up in the balcony it was dark; there were no windows as the balcony sat in the crest of the roof. I brought all my stuff in from the car, and setup most of it on the stage. Then I made a little fort up in the balcony.

This place will work perfectly.

The next few days I staked out my father’s church. It was located in a small neighborhood. I was walking around the church one Friday evening when I ran into the youth pastor who took one look at me and knew that I needed saving. He was in his early thirties and looked to be in shape, but he was shorter than me; he couldn’t have been taller than five seven.

He stuck out his hand with a large smile, “I’m Brian, welcome to our church. Is there anything I can help you with? I am the youth pastor here.”

I responded, “I don’t know… I don’t think I’m in the right spot.”

He shook my hand, and then, with a kind but excited voice stated, “It’s fine; I’ll show you the way. Tonight is Youth Friday, and its movie night. The rest of the group is loading up in the van.”

He started walking away, but he was still looking at me waiting for me to join him. I wasn’t sure how to get out of this, so I fell in step with him, and we walked together. He asked a few questions on the way, like how did I hear of their church, and who invited me. He asked if I had a ride home after the movie because, if I didn’t not to worry about it; he was giving four kids a ride and had room in his car. I explained that I had a car. We approached a small bus in the parking lot. It was surrounded by boys and girls my age.

Brian started to introduce me to everyone, I couldn’t really keep up. Too many faces and names to put together, but, as if he knew, he saved the best for last. “And this over here is Mindy Dare. Mindy do you mind hanging with… I am sorry, I forgot your name.”

He hadn’t forgotten it; he had forgotten to ask, “Melabeth.”

Soon as he heard my name he realized he had never heard it before; with a grin on his face, he said, “Busted, I forgot to ask your name, sorry. Mindy, Melabeth, I like that name. Melabeth…”

“Melabeth White,” I finished for him.

“I know some Whites who live off Jackson Rd. I think they live at Ridge Farm, any relation?”

I shook my head no, but, before he could ask any more questions, someone else needed him.

I took in my half sister for the first time. She looked like me, I mean a lot like me. Maybe it would be better said that me and her took after our father. I was really glad I was all Goth, or we would look like twins. Her hair fell just below her shoulders, but it was the same color and thickness as my hair. And her eyes, her eyes were that crazy electric blue that I got from my dad.

She spoke first, “Hey, it’s nice to meet you. Where do you go to school?”

I hadn’t thought about that, “It’s a secret.” She stared at me with a blank face, “Home school,” I added with a laugh.

“Oh, that’s cool, well come on you can sit next to me,” then Mindy grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the bus.

The lights of the bus went off and it started off down the road. I sat next to my sister; the noise of the kids talking at the same time was hurting my head. My hearing was too sensitive for all this sound; it was like being shoved into a steel box with angry bees.

Mindy was trying to speak to me. “Backdraft,” was the only word I had made out.

I yelled back, “Sorry, what was that you said?”

Leaning closer to my ear, “Backdraft,” Mindy repeated. “That’s the movie we are going to. Have you seen it?”

I shook my head, “Haven’t even heard of it; have you seen it?”

She yelled back, “No, but I heard it was great.”

We fell into silence, me and my sister that is. We could hardly hear each other anyway, and, like me, she didn’t seem to be enjoying all the chatter.  The youth director finally restored some order and quieted the bus down enough for us to talk to each other.

Twenty minutes later we arrived at the movie theater, and after filing out of the bus we all headed toward the theater like a herd of cows. I couldn’t believe they had to travel to another city just to find a nice theater. I answered a few questions from other girls, but it was my sister who I ended up talking to.

After the movie started, and the talking ended, I started thinking about the few things me and my sister talked about. I found out my sister loved school. She liked to sing and play the piano. She also liked to paint, but her favorite thing was to go out on the lake. She liked skiing and riding in a tube and even fishing. All these things she told me, made me start to rethink my plan. Maybe I shouldn’t involve her; I don’t know her but there’s something about her that I like. It’s as if I had known her my whole life and I felt so comfortable sitting next to her. It might be the same for her; all the other youth looked at me like I was some kind of devil worshiper on vacation. At first when she looked at me it was the same as the rest of the kids, but once we began talking she became so comfortable.