Vanessa the Immortal
Matthew Ryan Fischer
Vanessa struggled to remain conscious. The chatter was incessant. A
hundred voices, fighting for her attention. They battled for dominance. All she
heard was greater noise.
She could feel it in the woods. Calling. Summoning her. But she
knew to avoid it. One set of voices was enough. She didn’t need another.
The owls paused to gaze her way. She wondered what witchcraft had
summoned them. If they were here, then her mission might already be known and
spoiled.
The fields, stick to the field, she told herself. She had seen the
village in her vision. She knew what was there, what had happened. The ghosts,
long buried, had begun to stir. Someone was meddling and it was her duty to
stop them.
The other voice, the once she knew so well whispered for her to
wait, to hide, to beware.
Too many commands, too many warnings, she thought. I can’t do them
all. I can’t listen to them all.
The other voice reminded her of the relic they had stolen the
night prior. The woods were full of more and more thieves. Their campfire was
dying down and the men had fallen asleep. She could have slit their throats,
but all she wanted were a few items the thieves wouldn’t have known what to do
with anyway. The ghosts were rising and the thieves had robbed what seemed like
an ordinary house of God. But Vanessa knew it well, as a place of worship and a
place of Brotherhood. The thieves would never miss it. And she needed it. The
other voice told her so.
Vanessa passed through the old village from long ago. Burnt.
Broken. A brutal savagery had occurred. The people were possessed with rage. A
decade later, the blood-soaked ruins called to her. The ground still stained;
the buildings smeared with the remnants of the dead.
There were half-souls everywhere. Bitter shards, split spirits, lost without an ounce of their former self. They had no voice. They wouldn’t have been able to reach her or call her here. She was in no position to help them anyway. Their lives destroyed; the trauma of their end still reflected in their pointless afterlife wanderings.
The other voice told her to hurry. They had to reach the manor.
They had to stop him. There was no time to waste worrying over these dead, when
there was so much more carnage that needed preventing.
The church was in ruins, but someone had been there. There were
carvings on the door, rows of salt across the steps and in front of the door. Someone
had cast a spell. Perhaps this was who had sent her the visions and summoned
her here.
Beware, screamed the other voice, but it was too late. The rotten
step collapsed and Vanessa fell backwards. She hit her head and nearly lost
consciousness. Her vision blurred and she lost focus. A robed man stepped out
of the church. Vanessa tried to sit up but her head was swimming.
There was a faint greenish glow that followed him as he approached.
It took shape and revealed an apparition.
Vanessa reached for her satchel. The other voice screamed at her
to get up, to fight, to use the relic. Vanessa couldn’t find it, but she could
hear the robed man chanting some devious prayer.
The apparition surrounded Vanessa and entered her, consuming her
from the inside.
The other voice was silent for the first time in an eternity.
Then, Vanessa began to hear another woman’s voice speaking from her mouth,
speaking to the robed man. She could feel her body moving, but she wasn’t the
one making it do so. She leaned towards the man, embracing him. Vanessa could
feel the lust fill her body despite herself, despite not knowing the man.
Vanessa was no longer in control.
Then everything faded into darkness.
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