Betty and The Beast Slayer (Book One: Deliverance)

Chapter Seventeen: Heartbeat

I fell to the ground, pain radiating through me. Mud enveloped my legs as I struggled to gasp for air, the bridle still choking me as I writhed. There were too many beasts to count, all of which slowly and methodically approached my body. As though flames consumed my body, the horde descended upon me. In the distance, I knew that Benjamin and my Father were having their hearts ripped from their bodies, soon to rise with a ferocity unknown to these beasts. I thought of my fate, whether my own father's corpse would come and return me to the earth as a body without a spirit. I pictured it, my hope fading away like a candle that had been snuffed out. I was cloaked in darkness, despair, and the frigid winds of the night.

My thoughts did not linger on the possibilities for a long time since reality encroached upon me. A woman, or what was once a woman, reached for me with her arms, dragging my body away from the rest. Her eyes glowed in front of my gaze, red and demonic. Her breath reeked of blood and decay. I wanted to resist, but my hands were bound and my body was broken. I closed my eyes, submitting my soul to God. He would judge me now, but the pain of this earth would leave me. I waited for my death, but instead, I simply felt the clutches of the hands of the dead. They did not scratch and rip at my flesh but instead carried me into the forest. Their tormented hands pulled at my flesh, but without malice in their movements. The female beast led the procession of monsters pulling me from the path I had been on, setting me up on a tree. She sat me upright, releasing me from her mangled clutches. Then she moved away, and all of the beasts left me to return towards the pursuit of Samuel and the other mortals in the night.

I had been spared, pardoned, released. Though relief should have washed over me, I found the mercy of the devil's army to be quite unsettling. I listened in the night, hearing the sound of their vile howls and took a deep breath. What did I do now? I had seen my husband murder his brother and abandon my father. Everyone I knew, Hale and Samuel, would assume me to be dead. That left me with a sort of freedom. If Betty Proctor was dead, what would I pursue? I could go anywhere and do anything. I felt lost, however, unsure of where to begin. I closed my eyes and offered up a silent prayer for guidance. Even if I had survived the beasts, there was an ever-present reality of my situation. I sat with my head adorned with torment and my arms bound together. The only aide I had were my legs, with grew tired and bruised from the fall. I could walk but to where? I would die from exhaustion, or worse, fall prey to Hale and his minions. I was alive, but peril still swarmed in my mind.

Something emerged in my mind, a subtle and steady drum. It was faint, as though spanning a great distance, but I could hear it nonetheless. The sound of a strong and pure heartbeat beckoned me, and I stood to my feet. I needed to follow it. Some part of me was fearful. What if this sound was the call of Roan and his dark army? What if it was an illusion or hallucination and I followed it to my doom? But something in it felt familiar. I could not stay here and wait for death or destruction; if I had to die, I would die with honor and bravery. That very small scrap of dignity, the spirit of honor, was within my control.

I began to walk, though my body was tired and mangled. I took one step after the other, my breathing steady and firm, focused energy flowing through me. I did not know where I was going, but the heartbeat called to me. I kept going, although a great fire pulsed through my legs. I walked until I heard something in the distance: men and horses. They were in the distance, and the heartbeat seemed to be in the opposite direction. I carried onwards, moving, and not relenting. With each step, the drumming of the heartbeat grew louder.

I thought back to the events that had transpired. I thought to the day my father left for Boston and his words to me, still soft at that time. It will be such a short journey, Betty. I took another step, my breath rasping louder. I remember the night Matthew Lewis died when the child's body rose with vile and putrid new life. Deliver us from Evil. I thought to the next morning when I went to see John Proctor, seeking his wisdom and protection. I thought of Samuel and his words in the field that turned my heart. What good is breath in our lungs if we don't feel love in our hearts and passion in our bodies. I let out a small scream as the pain of my steps coinciding with the memories, haunting me as I strove forward. Samuel Proctor had come as an angel of light, and he had become a devil to me. His kind words and touches were nothing but the farce of a murderer, of a man still feigning innocence as evil coursed through him.

The memories continued to drone on in my mind as though my life played before me in a fit of delusion. I recollected the day in the Church when Hale had publicly condemned me. You will stay here with the very demons you conjured. Now he sought me out in the night, hunting me as though a rabid animal that needed to be spared of its own disgrace. I thought to the night in Salem when the British fired upon my neighbors, the sounds of the canons echoing as I audibly screamed, no longer thinking of the consequences. I remembered the night in the woods, seeing Roan and the beasts chanting my name, and fleeing from the terror that seized me.

I thought back to waking up in Marcus' arms, his strength, and his bizarre traits greeting me. I thought of Rebecca, Ida, and Martha, living their quaint and corrupt life. I remembered the fever, the icy winds that fueled my body until an indescribable warmth filled my being. I remember waking to his arms, his eyes searching me furiously. Details that had slipped my mind before, the glances and the small, tender touches, seemed to unfold in my mind with dazzling details. I thought of the softness in his voice when he spoke my name, Elizabeth. I thought back to what Marcus had said to me before he went to fight the beasts at the house of Rehab, his words beckoning me. Do not stop fighting, Elizabeth. Humanity needs a champion... Do not stop Elizabeth.

My thoughts faded away as I moved, lifelessly making my journey towards some unknown hope. I felt my stamina waning and I could hear the voices behind me, so I fell to the ground. I closed my eyes, more of the memories hitting me in waves. I felt the sting of my father's whip. I felt the touch of Samuel's kisses trailing my body. I felt the hatred in his eyes when Samuel learned some small scrap of truth about me. I felt the sting of his hands upon me. I relieved the moments of pain when my father was murdered, and then how I watched helplessly as Benjamin was thrust into his own doom by his brother's hands. I exhaled, feeling my body lose its light. Let me die, I prayed silently. It would be a simple, calm death. My body would be used for no evil or misfortune, and Roan would never grasp me in his clutches. I could submit my soul to God if I just let go. Let Betty Proctor die here, forgetting her pain. Let me release this ache I feel in my soul. I am no more than a shifting vapor. In my heart, despite the breath, I still breathed. My life ended. Everything I had known of Salem and the world was a lie. Betty Parris had grown, and Betty Proctor had died. If I lived, I would resolve to create a new life, something pure and simple.

Still, the sound of the ever-present beating of the heart grew stronger and I lay there, somewhat hopeful. My eyes fluttered, fatigue overtaking me. Before they closed entirely, I saw the guise of a man with a black hood standing over me, the heartbeat a steady drum in my mind as I drifted to sleep. Darkness overtook my vision. Let my soul release, I prayed. I felt the grip of two hands taking me, but my mind was lost to the waking world.