The Others

Chapter 15: Witch's Game

She began to visit me nightly, Lilith, that is.

At first she didn't speak. Rather she existed on the periphery of my dreams, watching from the shadows. Then, she grew bolder, hovering behind me as I moved about my dreamland. Until one night when she spoke to me again.

"Have you ever heard of the 'Illusion of Choice' ?"

I stood on the edge of a cliff. Fields stretched on below like rolling waves of green. A thick fog blanketed the field, concealing any significant landmarks that might indicate where we were. The sun had since retired and her children, a thousand twinkling emerged in her place.

"No." I managed a short, strangled noise in response.

I convinced myself that this was a simple delusion. Fueled by the haunting words of a fevered witch or perhaps by my own childhood fear of the Matron Other, I had somehow morphed into a hallucination. With that said, I still dreaded these nightmares as if they were real.

"It's a beautiful concept really," She began. It was alarming, I thought, to hear her speak. Her voice was soft, almost airy, like the voice of an angel.

"Essentially- we all have one chosen path for our lives and any choice made along the path only affirms our predestined fate."

She stood behind me with her manicured hand placed on my shoulder. In my dreamworld, she dressed like a New York socialite rather than the distressed war general I had seen from news clippings. She had disappeared off the face of Earth nearly three decades ago, far before the creation of the Otherworld and yet in my dream she looked as if she still managed an online subscription to Barneys.

"You may think you are free to decide. But destiny is inevitable."

"What does that mean?" Goosebumps formed on the back of my neck as she lifted her hand from my shoulder and began to lightly trace my earlobe. Her hands were cold, clammy and unwanted.

"It means you will not escape Garrenbuck. You may try but you will ultimately fail and what cost?"

My hands curled into fists. As a creation of my subconscious it only made sense for her to know about the escape plan.

"Every choice you make will only bring you closer."

"To what?" I asked.

"To me."

Just as she lifted her hand from my ear, the fog dissipated into the night sky, revealing a series of towering stones which encircled a bonfire. Shadowy figures dressed in billowy capes danced around the fire, chanting in a language unfamiliar to my ears. Accompanied by the sound of strange folk instruments, the chants turned into a haunting melody. Out of all the shadowy figures, one in particular stood out amongst the crowd. The person seemed to be struggling against two caped figures as they carried him closer to the raging fire.

It did not take me long to realize the monstrosity unfolding before my eyes. I had learned about similar pagan rituals in my history class. They were performing a sacrifice and that poor person was to be their chosen one.

The two caped figures hoisted the man into the air, his screams echoing above the chants. I watched with morbid fascination. Any protest that might have formed on the tip of my tongue was effectively trapped by my gritted teeth.

They fed the man to the fire with little care for his life. From the perimeter of the field, I could hear the howling of wolves. A sort of ceremonial cheer if you will. The festivities only seemed to pickup as they unabashedly celebrated their own monstrous behavior.
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When the time came to leave Garrenbuck I didn't want to go. A week had passed since Ana detailed her escape plan and now the date for the first Aptitude Trial was upon us.