My mother’s beheading seems misty and not quite real to me, a dark fairy story. Tales do collect about it, fanciful ones. Poeple in the country, where superstition is high, claim that the hare ran down the road in great packs the instant my mother’s head fell from her shoulders. The hare is the sign of the witch, and some say that every May 19th, the anniversary of my mother’s execution, the hares run wild. But I have never seen a single hare hopping about on May 19th and I always look, whether I am here at Hatfield or at Greenwich Palace, or Richmond or Woodstock or Elysynge, or any number of the palaces we often visit in May. I do not for one minute believe that my mother was a witch. Not for one second.
Elizabeth I, Red Rose of the House of Tudor
- Kathyn Lasky
I have a startlingly vivid image of Kathryn Elizabeth Janeway draining all of the real alcohol in her possession, smoking a cigarette, and blasting Adele’s ‘Rumor Has It’ in her quarters while she packs her things to be beamed down to Earth.
So, I’m writing this for this month of spoops. Hope you enjoy!!
When Ethan walked into the office, Elizabeth knew something was wrong again. He’s been in his new place a week, and by the look of the bags under his eyes, sleep has been fleeting. She wanted to say something, but he was the team member she knew the least. Bringing up spirits is no way to start an early morning conversation. Not only that but no need to intervene in a harmless situation.
A quiet morning, filled with editing and planning for future videos. Being close to Valentine’s Day, Mark talked about doing a kind of choose your own adventure series. The sound of Ethan dropping his hand on the table, jolting him awake.
“Ethan? You okay?” Mark asked, turning his head to look at him.
“Uh, yeah.” Ethan stretched in his chair. “I just slept horribly last night.”
He shook his head. “Nah. I had nightmares. Kept dreaming there was like a shadow figure staring at me from the corner of my room. It whispers, but I can’t understand it.”
Mark glanced at me, before looking back to Ethan. “Why don’t you take a nap on the couch and we’ll be planning in the next room?”
Ethan nodded, dragging himself to the couch. He curled up, quickly falling asleep. Of course, with his eyes slightly open.
Mark, Amy, Kathryn, Tyler, and Elizabeth tipped toed into the next room, shutting off the lights and closing the door behind them.
“Fuck, you were right,” Mark said, settling down on his chair.
Tyler looked confused. “Right about what?”
“Elizabeth said that Ethan’s new place is haunted and it looks like she’s right,” Amy said. “Nightmares usually happen first.”
Shaking his head, he crossed his arms. “Haunted? Yeah right.”
“Seriously Tyler, there’s something up in Ethan’s apartment,” Elizabeth said, playing with her moonstone pendant. “I sensed it after he first went to check it out and knew when we all went that first night for the welcoming party.”
“Does he know?” Kathryn asked.
“No. I’m not sure if he’d believe me… He’ll figure it out eventually. It’s not dangerous so far, so I’m hoping it won’t worsen.”
Amy bit her lip. “And if it does?”
Elizabeth pursed her lips. “Then I’ll have to intervene.”
“Okay, this sounds insane.” Tyler placed his hands on the table. “Are you a psychic or something? How does Amy and Kathryn and Mark know?”
“Amy and I found out when she stayed with us those first few weeks when she moved to L.A. and Mark overheard while he was over,” Kathryn explained.
Elizabeth spoke. “And for the record, I’m a clairvoyant empath, not a psychic. I tend not to tell people, rather not be called crazy or asked constantly if I can contact their family member.”
“Alright… Even if this is all true, what can be done?” Tyler seemed skeptical, not that anyone could blame him.
“Like I said, it’s not dangerous. Right now is just a waiting game for now. If personal harm is risk, then-”
A crash from the next room stopped the conversation. Ethan’s scream made them jump out of their chairs and run over to the next room. A chill ran down Elizabeth’s spine. Oh no.
The lights went on, revealing, for a split second, a figure in the corner. Ethan sat on the couch in a cold sweat, panting.
“Did you… Did you see that?”
Elizabeth carefully sat next to him, gingerly placing a hand on his shoulder. “Ethan, we need to talk.”
Tyler, at the doorway, looking panicked. He doesn’t believe in any of this. Yet he saw… something. But no, it had to be a trick of the light. Spirits aren’t real.
Ethan’s hands shook. “Yeah, I know… The shadow in my dreams. This time I heard what it said.”
“Which was…?” Mark asked.
“It said to kill the witch called Elizabeth Carter… And… It wants me to do it…”
The air dropped a few degrees and Elizabeth felt true cold fear strike her heart for the first time in a very long time. It’s been a few hundred years since a demon directly called her name. And the last time, people ended up dead.