Feathers

28. The Ritual

The gravel path cruched loudly underfoot, the sound amplified in the near-silent morning. The further they walked into the graveyard the more distant the noise of traffic became.

Peering further towards the back of the necropolis, Michael could see the dark shadows of ancient trees lining the back fence of the property, and nestled in their canopy was what looked like a miniature cathedral. A structure at least 10 feet high, made of brick with a green-tiled steeple roof, crescent-moon eve and large wooden doors, covered with white paint which, Michael could see even from that distance, was already peeling.

The gravel path they were walking on soon became a neatly trimmed grass lane that ran between rows of gravestones. They trudged through the dawn gloom towards the mini-cathedral and finally came to a halt when Enid stopped in front of two barren headstones, laying side by side. There were no flowers adorning these graves and no messages carved into the granite. Simply the names: "Gary Brennan" on one and "Amelia Brennan" on the other.

The five of them stood in silence for a moment, staring at the graves.

Michael went to put his arm around Kobie but she gently shrugged him off.

"You never mentioned your parent's names before," Spencer said.

"Amelia's a real pretty name," said Gretchen.

Enid looked across at them, "Amelia was a beautiful woman, I see her everytime I look at Kobie."

Michael stared at the grave, thinking about what they were about to do, thinking about Kobie and her dead parents and how they got to be where they were, standing in a graveyard with the faint sound of traffic in the distance and some nightmare ahead of them that was starting to feel like a crazy made-up story.

Kobie broke the silence, "so what do we do now?"

Enid turned to face her grandaughter fully. Something about the look in her eye instanly made Michael uncomfortable. Even when discussing her granddaughter's abuse and the death of her children, Enid always had a certain calm confidence, a sense of resilience that she exuded without seeming to even try. But the way she stood now was different, he could see the muscles running down her neck and along her shoulders were tensed and her right hand was twitching at her side. Her eyes were wide and her face was set in a rigid, angry expression

"I'm sorry I have to do this," she said to Kobie, not with her normal warmth, but in a cold, flat tone. Something had changed, and it felt very wrong.

Enid reached out and held Kobie with both hands by the shoulders. She held her like this at arm's length for a few moments, looking at her, her expression not faltering, that strange cold anger still on her face like a mask.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

Kobie looked as confused and worried as Michael felt, she squinted up at Enid, mouth agape, apparently lost for words.

"sorry for wha..."

Kobie didn't get to finish her sentence. The words were knocked from her mouth as, in one sudden and violent motion, Enid ripped one of Kobie's shoulders towards her and pushed the other away, spinning her around to face Michael and her friends. Enid grabbed Kobie around the waist and yanked her back up against her body with one hand, and with the other, pulled a knife from some hidden compartment in her cardigan, flicked out the blade and pressed it hard against her granddaughter's throat.

"What the fuck!" Gretchen screamed before Michael's brain even had the chance to process what was happening.

His brain was racing. Was this why Enid had been so reluctant to send the demon back to hell? Because the only way to do it was to sacrifice her own granddaughter? Or was this just for show, all some strange and horrible part of the ritual. Michael could see Kobie's skin pulled inwards along the blade of the knife. He felt sick. Enid wasn't pretending.