Invoke

Chapter 15

Scarlett stood immobile, powerless to gather the strength to move from the spirit that held her there. The sounds of the house ceased, only the fast breaths she took were heard. Seconds seemed like minutes, but still, Scarlett hadn't budged from the foot of the steps. Her hand fell from the banister, feeling like dead weight, heavy and numb.

The eyes that captured her were empty. Drained of everything but loathe and deep hatred. They were hazel in color, but it was something inside them − something impious anchoring them.

Scarlett glanced away, quickly assessing her attire, noticing it was of a different era. The dress was Victorian, the color, a deep sage green with embroidery at the collar and arm cuffs. Scarlett noted it was tattered at the hem and heavily soiled.

She was tall for a woman, reaching at least 5'9, towering over Scarlett. Her hair was wheat gold, tucked securely in a bun with tendrils escaping around her face. She was young, probably early thirties, Scarlett calculated. She appeared from the outside like a lady, but it was a mask. Oh, Scarlett knew this...

Scarlett felt the fire of her energy. It was imbued with dark wickedness. It was bleeding out of the entity like a river, rich with something that Scarlett feared looking further into.

"You're afraid?" the spirit questioned, her head cocked to the side, awaiting an answer from Scarlett.

Scarlett dare not reply. She was still shocked and trying to channel. She closed her eyes, venturing to reach the heart of what once existed. Everything was clouded, Scarlett thought. No, she shook her head. She was being blocked.

Her eyes flew open.

The spirit laughed, soft, but wicked. She moved away from Scarlett, heading toward the empty parlor that was as vacant as the ballroom. Scarlett watched her with guarded eyes. The spirit stopped by the windows in the room and turned, her back facing the fireplace.

"You cannot reach me, Veronica. You have no power here."

She touched the side of her head with her finger, and then grinned with spite. "It is gone, like the body you used to have."

Scarlett swallowed. It was beginning to sound just as Regina had said. Scarlett raised her chin and stared straight into the eyes of this entity.

"The name is Scarlett, and I don't like being threatened, especially from the dead." Scarlett was gaining whatever ounce of courage she had. She walked a few steps closer to the spirit, knowing she was on dangerous ground. Knowing she was taunting it.

"You speak as if I have known you, but you're mistaken." Scarlett shook her head.

"Let me help you." 

Scarlett was reaching for her Locket, nervously sweeping it with her thumb.

"Allow me to help you move on."

The spirit moved suddenly then, like a flash of light. So quickly, she felt a draft from the movement. She was now inches from Scarlett's face. She smelled like the dead — unnatural and redolent of something unnatural. Scarlett's nostrils flared with revulsion.

"You, help me?" The entity screamed at Scarlett with rage. Her eyes were angry and boiled with fury.

"I have the power here! You, Veronica, are nothing but a pawn in the game." A soft chuckle escaped the spirit, low and deep in her throat.

"So, you have returned." The spirit tapped her chin, scanning Scarlett.

"But you do not remember, do you?"