Anastasia glided down the aisle in the most exquisite white gown with lace trim and her luscious, blonde curls fastened up into a complex updo. As her tender hands clutched the bouquet of calla lilies, I pondered in my head, how a man like myself, could ever have been so lucky to capture the heart of this angelic being?
Only now a few steps away from me at the altar, she smiled those pearly whites as she took my nervous hand.
Then the eager and warm-hearted priest turned towards Anastasia and began:
"Do you take Henry Pickford
as your lawful husband,
to have and to hold,
from this day forward,
for better or for worse,
for richer or for poorer,
in sickness and in health,
to love and cherish
until death do you part?"
I stood there with my heart pounding in my throat, waiting for her to say "I do," when her physique suddenly transformed into a crippled, old hag in a torn, bloodstained gown, with frizzy, gray hair, claw-like nails, and a massive, hairy mole above her cracked lips.
This couldn't be my love? One second she was an angel and now she is a wicked, feeble creature.
Pleased by my dismay, she finally replied, "You will pay Henry! You will pay...for everything!"
"No!" I screamed as I woke up from the terrifying nightmare, gasping on the cold, wood floor. Was this vision real? If not, is Anastasia even safe?
As I lied there trying to gather my disoriented thoughts, I realized that I was located nowhere near where I previously was.
The last thing I can recall was fumbling with the front door so close to my freedom, I could almost smell it, when Lucille entered the room enraged from my disobedience. Everything after that is foggy.
"Where am I?" I rolled over on my right side, then pushed myself up to a seated position.
Once again, this mysterious place or room I should say, smelt of French vanilla more pungent than ever before, but that wasn't the only thing that was peculiar.
Unlike the other rooms throughout the neglected house, there was at least one window. Here, there was no source of natural light to at least prove that a world still existed beyond these horrific walls. Now, only a chilly draft hugged my desolate and nervous body.
My eyes, I pictured bloodshot, continued to struggle to readjust to the black territory, as I maneuvered around trying to find something to grab on to. A table or a chair would be perfect to help me get back on my feet.
All of a sudden, my clammy hands brushed over something round and hard.
"What?" I muttered puzzled as I felt around some more for any other objects such as the one I came across.
"No...this can't be possible," trembling in disbelief. "I'm surrounded!"
These items, both round and large or small and slim were everywhere!
Something in my gut told me that this unknown discovery was not a sign of safety or peace, but rather a warning signal that evil possibly lingered near.
Taken aback, I scooched backwards on my bottom, until my spine hit a gravelly wall.
"Ouch!" I echoed as I rubbed my sore back, breathing heavily like I just ran two miles.
"What am I going to do? I just can't stay here. Was this Lucille's plan all along to isolate and poison me to death?"
My self talk was abruptly cut short, when I felt the presence of another being enter the room, with what you want to know...a...candle.
Now the inky space glowed with only a single lit wax candle that appeared to be floating midair considering the gloomy atmosphere.
I sat there waiting anxiously for a voice to speak or a hint of movement besides my own heart pounding in my chest like a drum.
What almost seemed like forever, the unknown being finally removed themselves from their previous position, and turned right with the candle.
Out of nowhere, a match was lit using the candle's ghastly flame and one at a time, another candle was lit to provide a sense of a chapter beginning.
As the creature circumferenced the room, I noticed with every second another one glowed, my unrevealed discovery was now made visible.
The various items that were spread sporadically all around the extent of my presence were...bones...and not just any bones; human bones! Ranging from skulls, ribs, femurs, pelvises, sternums, vertebras, and many more!
Perplexed and frightened, I gasped, "Oh...my..."
"Are you really that surprised Henry?" A familiar voice snickered. "I thought you were wiser than that!"
Although I shouldn't have been that flabbergasted by her precipitous comment, I still stumbled on finding the right words to reply with.
"I...I don't understand!"
"Hmm...you should," Lucille teased me as she stood hovering over me, with her face only illuminated by the dozen candles, which caused a chill to run down my spine.
"So you just...killed people and left their remains here?" I hesitantly asked hoping that my statement wasn't true. That this was just another nightmare.
She gently placed the waxy candle on the shelf with the others that surrounded the border of the room, causing the shadows on her face to shift.
"Well Henry, you are partly correct. These are human bones," she carefully walked around so she could face me as I sat huddled with my knees to my chest.
"But you don't know nearly half the story."
"I know for a fact that you're a witch! You sure can't deny that, can you?" I uttered mustering up all the confidence I had left.
"There's the intelligent Henry I know! Cowardliness was never a pleasing color on you," she cackled, amused at her own joke.
"So..I'm right?"
"Oh yes, you're very much correct. I'm indeed a witch, but let me tell you how all this began," she gestured to all the bones that I imagined were once innocent victims.
I glowered coldly at her black heart as she began her little tale.
"It all started in 1692, here in Salem, when a group of girls were accused of being possessed by the Devil, which later led to others also being convicted of witchcraft. Including my great great grandparents John and Elizabeth Proctor. You may know this tragic event as the Salem Witch Trials."
I nodded subconsciously. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. If she was related to these folks, then she must be over a hundred years old, which isn't surprising considering her nasty appearance.
"Ah...very good," she commented, seemingly impressed by my knowledge. "You see, the court did everything they could to try to piece back the lives together of the ones they lost, but little did they know, nothing could heal their wounds. So many innocent lives stolen just because of hearsay! I get worked up every time it is brought up!"
"I understand what they did was cruel and wrong, but that was so long ago. In fact over a century. The only way to bring peace to yourself is to move on," I attempted to advise her, praying she wasn't as insane as she perceived to be.
"Oh you're so funny Henry! Truly you are!" She chortled. "I'm not doing all of this to please me. I'm doing this to avenge all the lives that were robbed of a future!"
"So...all these...bones are just random people...like myself?"
"Correct! For as long as I've been alive, I've lured travelers, such as yourself into my home pretending that I'm taking care of them and..."
"You poison them to death," I interrupted her.
"Not always. It depends on my victim. Burly men and dainty women are not exactly the same recipe."
"Let me get this straight," I concentrated, pulling my eyebrows together. "Even though these people and myself had nothing to do with the witch trials, you just...kill them anyway?"
"Precisely. I don't expect you to fully understand my method since you're not from around here, but everyone in this village and towns beyond, has either forgotten, ignored, or has made fun of the tragedy that occurred here and I'm sick of them getting to prance around free mocking my ancestors! Enough is enough!" She shouted boiling in her own fury.
"I'm so sorry Lucille. I truly am," I attempted to calm her grieving soul.
"Don't think you can talk me out of my ways Henry! You did try to escape didn't you?"
"I...I'm sorry..."
"Save it you rich, ungrateful snob!"
I knew nothing I said now would change my fate. I was doomed from the moment I helped her out in the middle of the road. My Mother always said don't talk to strangers. I wish I took her advice. It's kind of silly to think that an old hag, not forgetting that she is a witch, could even possess the power to override folks like myself and others. Human beings can be so naive sometimes. I hope in the end, that whatever satisfaction this torture brings to her ill and tormented soul, that she will find peace somewhere else than here on Earth.
Oh my! I almost forgot my dear, sweet Anastasia! Oh, how I'm going to miss her enchanting smile and the way she sings to me in the morning. I'll love you forever and ever my love!
As I sat there, semi peacefully in a ball awaiting my death, I happened to remember one thing that I have been dying to know this whole time and couldn't leave without knowing the reason. The truth this time.
"Lucille, why do your candles smell like French vanilla? Why not just use non scented candles?"
A devilish smirk crept upon her face. "To keep the house free from smelling of decaying bodies of course!"
*************************************
Thank you so much again
to all of you who chose
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on "The Smell of Death!"
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With that being said,
I'm hard at work on my next book
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