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Authors: Scarlet Black

BOOK: Salem Moon
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Gabriel left quietly through the back door and called to Hunter, the Blackstone

s dog. Hunter was a Black Mouth Cur, given to his father as a gift from a southern veterinarian who swore on his life that for true hunters, no other dog would do. He was right. Hunter was a fierce predator. Gabriel had once seen him take down a squirrel before it could make its escape up one of the old oak trees that grew in abundance in these woods. He shook it from side to side, until it finally succumbed to death. However, Hunter had other more pleasing attributes as well
. He
was loyal, even tempered and willing to die for his owners.

Gabriel put his small leather pouch, which contained black gun powder and a small locket on an extremely thin and delicate chain
,
made of the finest gold
,
in his breeches pocket. The locket had been his mother

s and he carried it with him always. Slinging his firing musket over his shoulder, he and Hunter headed out into the deep woods.

Death was on his mind this dawn; that of the animal he sought as well as those poor unfortunates h
anged
at Gallows Hill. What was not on his mind was death on the most personal level of all: his own.

In a thicket
,
he saw two shadows playing with the first light of dawn. He was unsure if it was an animal or a human being; nevertheless, he took his musket from his shoulder and loaded it with gun powder.

He heard low whis
pering, the kind of talk hunter
s make hoping that their prey will not be alerted to their presence. They were speaking of his sister in a way that horrified him
.


Ah, Abigail, she is ripe for the picking and those lips, plump and as sweet as nectar. I can just imagine what it would be like to kiss that mouth and ravage her as I would a common whore,

said one of the boys, slyly.

He recognized the voice at once
. It
belonged to
Thomas Snow, whose family had owned and lost a large dairy farm in Salem Village. Their father, Richard Snow was known throughout the colony as a man of excesses. Whether it was drinking or gambling, he did it up in a big way.

He

d literally gambled away their land. Now, although they still resided on the land, they were no more than indentured servant
s
, earning only a small pittance for their labors from the new owners.


Aye, I
dare
you to do it, Thomas. Do it before she ends up at the end of a rope, hanged as a witch. You know what the other girls have been whispering about her…

This voice belonged to Joshua Snow, his older brother.


They are just envious of her beauty,

Thomas replied.


Sinful
beauty, that is what they say of it
,
and that

s enough to bring about an accusation of witcher
y in these times, you know
it is
.

Joshua

s voice was barely a whisper. But, Gabriel heard it.

Gabriel

s heart pounded as he listened to the exchange. He felt
both
fear and anger
.
How could they speak of his sister in such a way? He rustled the bushes to make his presence known, hoping to stop their conversation from going into more terrifying depths.

Both Snow brothers stopped talking and pointed their muskets toward the sound. Seeing that it was Gabriel, they lowered
them
and greeted him somewhat awkwardly, not sure of what he

d overheard.

Gabriel gave a brief nod, mumbling
,

Good morning, gentlemen.

He continued walking deeper into the woods,
feeling their eyes still upon him
.

It wasn

t long before he came upon a magnificent white tail doe, grazing quietly on the tender shoots of a wild shrub. Moving stealthily, not even daring to breath, he came within three yards of the animal when it spotted him. Its graceful eyes found his
,
but it did not run or appear to be afraid; instead, she stood gazing at him as if entranced.

Gabriel aimed his musket directly at her head, having a clean shot at
the animal
, but he did not fire
,
was unable to fire. The doe

s eyes seemed to be boring into his own. His hands began to shake, his brow broke out in a cold sweat and all the while he felt as if he was being watched; not only by the deer, but by someone, something else. He looked left, right, back and front. There was nothing except the early mo
rning sounds of the woods. The mourning d
oves cooed their sad song, the frogs in the nearby pond croaked, insects buzzed, bushes rustled with small animals.

All at once, time had ceased to exist. The animals, birds
,
and insects fell silent and Gabriel felt again that he was being watched, but not from without. He felt a strange sensation come over him, and he
knew
. He was not being watched from anything
outside
himself
,
but from something
inside
,
something alien and cold and very powerful.

The doe sensed it as well
,
and her eyes widened in fright, but still
,
she did not move away. It was as if she were stuck in quicksand, unable to obey the most basic of instincts; the need to flee.

The power was frightening, but, ah, it was intoxicating as well! He

d never felt like this before, as if he could squash both the animal in front of him and any enemy that came his way, like a helpless insect under his boot. And he would
enjoy
doing it!

He never
needed
to fire his weapon
,
because out of thin air, there was an ungodly wail of pain. He watched in both horror and fascination as the deer

s chest burst wide open
,
spraying blood everywhere, on the trees, the shrub she had been eating, stopping just short of where he stood.


Dear Lord,

he whispered, as the deer went down with a thud.


Dear Lord, indeed,

said the trespasser within him. The voice was low, mocking and amused.

As suddenly as it had appeared, the sensation and the voice were gone.
W
hat was
not
gone was the corpse of the deer, lying on its side
,
its eyes already at half
-
mast and glazed over in death.

Gabriel walked cautiously up to it. Upon closer examination, he saw that the wound to the chest was not possible
,
and yet, there it was. If he

d shot it, the entrance wound wouldn

t be this large. He smelled the muzzle of his musket and found no smell of used gun powder, nor was it hot or even warm to the touch.

He vaguely remembered the strange sensation of something or someone being with him, but that was all. He was truly puzzled about what and how this happened. He ran off, out of the woods
,
to locate his father who was more qualified to determine what had happened to the deer.

Samuel Blackstone knelt down in front of the deer and gently lifted its head and swept the leaves and brush away from the body so that he could get a better look.

Aghast, he abruptly pulled away; his hands soaked with blood as pieces of the deer

s heart came spilling out onto the ground.


The heart seems to have…exploded, or to be more precise,
imploded.
The wound came from within the deer, not from without.


But, how is that possible, father?


It isn

t. I don

t see any reason for it
.

His
father
scratched
his head as if that would produce an answer. But there was no answer, none that would coincide with the laws of physics as he understood them.


Did

anyone see this…incident, Gabriel?


I don

t know, father. I didn

t see anyone. I saw the Snow brothers earlier, but they moved farther down, toward the logging road.


Give me your musket
.

Gabriel handed it over to him without question.

Samuel Bl
ackstone raised the musket high—
and fired. The smell of gun powder was pungent
. Smoke rose
from the barrel.


There. If anyone questions you, your gun has been fired
. The
proof is set. Now we have to bury the carcass of the animal. We cannot bring it home in this…condition.

Father and son worked side by side
;
silently digging a large enough hole to bury the deer in, the sweat pouring off their brows. The day had begun. The dawn was behind them now
,
and it was indeed an oppressively hot and humid day.


Not a word of this is to be spoken, not even to Abigail. I could not bear to lose you, nor her. And your mother, God rest her soul, you are all I have left of h
er. If word of this—whatever it is—
becomes known, there will be accusations of witchcraft. Accusations are enough in these dark days to bring about a trial and…

He let his words trail away, but Gabriel understood what was left unsaid.

He wanted badly to confide in his father about the sensation of being watched from within when the deer

s chest had exploded, but the memory was becoming vague and he was not sure if it was real or just his mind playing tricks on him.

In a dense patch of trees behind them and to the left, two very real pairs of eyes were watching. Two pairs of ears were listening as well to the exchange between Gabriel and Samuel Blackstone.  Those eyes and ears belong to Thomas and Joshua Snow.

Chapter 2

 

T
homas and Joshua Snow ran home in haste. They burst through the small wooden door that led to the colonial kitchen and called out for their mother, Priscilla Snow.

Priscilla Snow was a tiny, frail looking woman and although she was only in her early thirties, she appeared to be much older. She was thankful that her two sons took after their father, Thomas Snow
Sr. They were both tall; heavy-
set boys with a shock of bright red hair and beard and piercing blue eyes. Standing before her, ruddy faced and out of breath, they were both speaking at the same time in excited voices.

Priscilla

s usually weary, lifeless eyes began to sparkle as they told the complete tale of what they

d just witnessed in the woods.


Witches!

she hissed.

The beautiful ones, Gabriel and Abigail with faces reserved only for
the
angels
.
Their tempting beauty bought and paid for
.
Only the devil
himself
could create such beauty in mere humans, to make us believe they are innocent and pure, when in fact, it is more of the devil

s own tricks
.


Mother, Abigail had nothing to do with any of it!

Joshua
loudly protested
. Everyone throughout the village knew he was smitten with her, just as his brother, Thomas
,
and many of the other young boys were.


My son, you do not understand. She is Gabriel

s
twin
.
Their bond is strong. What one knows so does the other. If one is a witch, so the other must also be,

Priscilla said vehemently.

She

d never liked the Blackstones anyway.
The family had
money
,
was respected and
beautiful as well.
W
hy even Mary Blackstone had been bewitchingly beautiful right up until the day she died
.

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