The Pumpkin Lady

VII: Skeletonization

A bell rang in the distance. Dahlia woke up, just barely. Her vision was blurry, and it felt like there was a steam hammer in her skull. It was dark, and her limbs felt heavy. No matter how much she tried to move, she just didn't have the strength to do so. Her eyes flicked around in their dreary state, just barely seeing slivers of light surrounding her.

"Gather, my children, paradise awaits!" The voice of Graham could be heard, the ringing of the bell sounding out again. Dahlia made an attempt to move again, slumping over and hitting a wall. It felt itchy, hard and comprised of many smaller objects. It was like a weak cage, though despite that, Dahlia felt weaker. Where was she...?

"Rejoice, my children, my Brothers and Sisters of the fold! Our sacred tradition shall live on another year!" The hooting and cheering of a crowd followed. "In our darkest hours, our ancestors have blessed us with one of true merit, of true spirit! One worthy of reaching the Great Beyond! Our connection with the Spirit Realm shall remain tethered!"

Dahlia blinked as another round of cheering commenced, some sort of lucidity coming back to her. She tried calling out to someone, anyone who could hear her, but all that came out was a pitiful, quiet cry. She felt exhausted, and all she wanted to do was go back to sleep. Something felt wrong though, wrong about this whole thing. Where was she? where was Graham? Where was Felix?!

"The Witching Hour is upon us! Rejoice! Rejoice! The chosen shall shed their mortal husk and begin anew!" The crowd cheered and shouted, praising Graham and those above.

 The light shining through grew more intense, Dahlia trying to fight through her daze. "F-Felix...!" She called out, "Felix?! S-Someone...some..." Her eyes widened as she noticed movement from the corner of her eye. Smoke. Billowing smoke, quickly increasing in size. Dahlia knew exactly where she was now.

"S-Stop-!" She cried out again, the surge of adrenaline bringing her back to her senses. "L-Let me go! You can't do this! Please!" The light only grew, as did the heat, the warm amber of the fire eating the raw material illuminating her enclosure. A small box within the wicker man. In a panic, Dahlia began to claw at the walls of her casket, tearing out bits of twine and straw. Any progress was good progress, though in this situation, it may as well have meant absolutely nothing. She began to cough as she inhaled smoke, covering her mouth with the hem of her skirt to try and buy her some time. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she heard the crowd chant, and her panic only grew. It brought her back to that cold mansion on Christmas Eve, it brought her back to that night of ash and smoke. She couldn't believe she had been left here by someone she had considered a friend. She couldn't believe they would find her as a pile of ash and bone, just as her family had been found all those years ago. She began to hyperventilate as she huddled up against the corner of her enclosure, the flames now licking the floor and singeing the straw before consuming it entirely.

 The chanting stopped, instead replaced by gasps of surprise and terror. Dahlia began to break a sweat as she felt the air in her lungs be snatched away by the glowing inferno. No matter how much she tried to escape it, the flames surrounded her. This was the end. She watched in sheer horror as the flames began to singe her clothes. With her final breath, she let out a gutwrenching scream, her final protest before her inevitable fate.

The wicker man creaked as it shifted and crashed to the ground, the urgent chattering of men surrounding her as she laid there motionless. All she saw was the burning door of her enclosure being thrown open. The last thing she felt before succumbing to her shock and fainting once again, was the warm embrace of someone she thought she would never see again.