Athelstan felt the need to contact his father's ghost as soon as he awoke the next morning. His eyes fluttered open just as the new day began to dawn. No sunlight peered through the heavy drapes, but he could see the faint bit of it through the lacing at the bottom of the curtain. His eyes slightly bothered by the light, Athelstan reached over on the little table beside the bed and found his sunglasses.
He gazed up at the cracked ceiling above him, wondering where his father's ghost was hiding. "If you're around here, Elliot, I want to see you."
Obviously sensing the attempt of being contacted, Elliot's ghostly figure slowly materialized at the edge of his son's bed. At first, Athelstan felt as if his heart had jumped into his throat, but he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
Athelstan couldn't help but notice how awful his father looked. The young man's skin appeared to be peeling on his face, falling off like dandruff. He could see the outline of the ghost's skull clearly, bones showing where patches of skin had fallen off. Clumps of hair were also dropping from the man's head. The sight of the scalp made Athelstan feel sick to his stomach. Pressing his hand against his heart, he noticed how tattered the clothes on his ghostly father's back were.
"What's wrong with you?" Athelstan mouthed, trying not to let his fear be visible.
Elliot shook his head. He grabbed Athelstan's notebook off the top of the dresser, being careful to not let himself fall apart any worse than he already was. Gripping a pen in his small hand, he scrawled out a quick note to Athelstan. Time is running out. You must leave this place before you are consumed by the evil.
Athelstan read Elliot's sloppy handwriting, understanding flashing across his face. He already knew that he had to leave. What would happen if he didn't?
He must have asked the question out loud, for Elliot ripped the notebook out of his son's hand and began writing again. He shoved it towards him when he was finished.
"I am going to get into trouble with the townspeople?" Athelstan asked, his eyes huge.
Elliot nodded. It was how he died.
All of a sudden, there was a loud scream from the bowels of the house. Olga. Athelstan keened his ears to hear better. Twisting his head over his shoulder, Elliot shuddered. He disappeared, obviously wanting to avoid any conflict where Olga was concerned. Anybody who decided to avoid Olga probably had good sense; she seemed capable of great physical damage to anybody who set foot in her way.
Athelstan felt Olga's heavy footsteps on the way as she stomped towards his door. He cringed in his bed, clutching his blankets against his chest.
"Athelstan Shadow!" Olga bellowed, throwing the door open violently. It slammed against the wall, thus causing a picture of a depressing landscape to go crashing to the ground. Athelstan noticed the pictures of the runes sketched ever so slightly into the grass. He never noticed it before; was it an omen of some sort?
"Is there something you need?" Athelstan asked, practically choking on the words.
"You are a warlock, Athelstan. People have whispered about it. We are keeping the devil's spawn in our house. And the devil whispered in my ear the night before about you being a threat to the Lord above," she said, breathing heavily. Blocking the doorway with her bulk, she appeared to be a giant in contrast to Athelstan.
"I'm not a warlock. Warlocks are considered to be oath breakers... that's what my mom told me. And I'm not that." Athelstan's head felt dizzy as he explained his situation, speaking like a demented drunkard.
"Carson is sick! Throwing up! Saying deranged things!" Olga screamed, pointing in the direction of her son.
"That's not my fault!" he shouted, defending himself. "I would never make someone sick, even if I knew how to do so."
Olga delivered a stunning slap to Athelstan's pale face. The force of the impact knocked him backwards, sending him falling against the metal headboard with a bang. He gritted his teeth at the searing pain. Olga stood over him, breathing heavily. "Go into Carson's room and heal him! This instant before you get the worst beating of your life!"
"I CAN'T HEAL HIM!" Athelstan screamed at the top of his lungs. He'd never healed anybody in his life. He didn't know the least bit about curing someone well; he only knew the basics.
Olga grabbed him by the front of his shirt and jerked him out of bed. "Go to his room!"
Before he could get kicked in the side by her heavy foot, he scrambled to his feet and ran to Carson's room. The boy lay in his bed, jerking spastically as he mumbled words that Athelstan couldn't comprehend.
"Carson?" He knocked gently on the boy's door. Carson continued with his seizure, appearing to be possessed by a ghost. Athelstan lingered in the doorway, examining the small, clean bedroom. It could have been nice if it had another color in it but blue; everything was blue, if not another shade of it. Sheer blue curtains covered the windows, the carpeting beneath Athelstan's bare feet was a mixture of different hues of blue. The only color in the room was Carson. It almost gave Athelstan the chills to even set foot in the room. Maybe the boy just liked the color.
"Touch him." Olga shoved him towards her son.
"Why?"
"Ever read about the Salem Witch Trials? All witches can heal with their hands." Olga grinned cruelly at him.
"I told you, I can't heal him."
Olga grabbed Athelstan's wrist gruffly, jerking him towards his enemy. She held both of his hands in her larger ones. "If you don't heal my son right this minute, I'll break both your hands," she threatened.
Athelstan, breathing heavily from fright, reached out towards Carson. He closed his eyes as he laid them down upon the trembling boy's forehead. His lips were slightly parted as he sent good mental energy into his fingertips. Maybe the boy wouldn't be cured and Olga could leave him alone. But fate wasn't about ready to protect him. Carson stiffened and his seizure stopped.
"Blessed be!" Olga shouted, shoving Athelstan away. "His seizure is gone!" She turned to look at the boy she'd earlier smacked ferociously.
Athelstan drifted out of the room, frightened of what may happen to him. He immediately dressed in comfortable clothes. He needed to go somewhere for peace. Maybe to the church that wasn't even his religion. Maybe even to Pluto's cabin to find out what he'd done to make Carson stop quivering.
He dug out his book on the witch trials from his suitcase and began paging through it. He'd read many a time about Tituba and what had happened with her and the other accused. He remembered the afflicted girls. Maybe history repeated itself. But he wasn't even human. He could transform into another animal if he wanted to, considering what he was. He'd just learned the truth about himself last night. But that still didn't ease the need for him to find out about his past and what had happened to make him turn into a vampire.
Gripping the book in his hand tightly, he ran down the stairs. He needed to get out. He needed to find Pluto and talk to him about what was happening to him. On the way out, he grabbed an apple out of the fruit basket and ran out the front door. More than anything, he needed to find out what had happened to him in the past.
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