PROBLEM - Anthony Lockwood

CHAPTER FOURTY

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xl

this isn't going as planned aaaaahhhhh

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"ONE FUCKING WRAITH?!" Lockwood yelled in anger as he, George and Alice ran, "Those lying little-"

"You gave me no time for research!" George cried.

Alice rolled her eyes, "It's by a hanging tree, I told you there'd be Thirteen of them!"

"We have no flares!" George gasped. "I didn't think you'd mean it would be the Thirteen."

"There are more than one Thirteen?" Lockwood snapped.

"Into the forest, into the forest, into the forest!" Alice fussed, looking back at the ghosts of the thirteen women that were following them.

"But-"

"RUN!"

The three of them jumped over the railing, looking at the motorway and then tore across the lane. And then they jumped over the other railing, running over to the other side.

A car honked, emergency braking and skidding as it tried to not run them over.

"Sorry!" Lockwood called over his shoulder as they disappeared into the forest.

Currently, the three of them were on a job to remove what they were told would be one wraith. Instead, there turned out to be 13. They'd left Lucy - who was still passed out - at home, sleeping. But now they were beginning to realise the downward, panicked spiral they were stuck in.

"How far are we from London?" George questioned.

"When we crashed that car it was like 10 miles so I'd assume we're only like I have no fucking idea we are so lost," Lockwood replied.

"We're gonna die," George snapped, "All because you gave me no time for research."

"That's the tree!" Alice pointed to see a giant rowan tree with no leaves. It looked almost out of place, in the centre of the clearing, with branches that looked almost like claws, ready to grip them from the ground and spear them through.

"Deane!" one of the witches yelled, "Join us!"

Alice swore under her breath, "Not this again."

"Not what again," Lockwood inquired.

"Death by lack of flare," Alice hissed, "I miss Lucy, as least she packs with a list."

Lockwood pulled a salt bomb out of his pocket and threw it at the ghost. It was no use, the other twelve women simply began to corner them, screaming and screeching. The three grabbed their rapiers, beginning to fight them.

"Step back, Tony!" came a very loud and very obnoxious voice.

Lockwood swore loudly as Kipps and his crew burst through the trees, slashing at the ghosts with their rapiers, all seven of them driving them back together.

Alice fell back slightly as the wraiths began to surround them.

"Everybody run!" Kat yelled.

"What's the source?" Kipps demanded.

"I've got it!" Alice lied.

Kipps shot her a look, but grabbed a bomb flare from his belt and threw it to her.

Lockwood and George exchanged a glance.

"Lead them away!" Lockwood shouted, "Buy her some time." He swore, beginning to run through the trees and call over the ghosts, jeering at them and making them follow him, the other 5 agents fighting them as they ran also.

Once Alice was alone in the clearing, she sheathed her rapier, pocketed the flare and grabbed her knife.

What was it about witch related ghosts in London?

Alice could feel the Thirteen's anger radiating off of the Rowan tree as she approched it.

They were hung here.

Hung like her parents. Hung like Bonny Lizzy. Hung like Tom almost was.

Alice tried to swallow the lump in her throat, her hands beginning to shake as the memories flashed in her mind.

Their necks cracking... her skin burning with the branding. Being dunked under the water again and again and again.

Alice pressed her fingers against the wood, ignoring the pain from touching rowan as her skin burned.

"HANG THE WITCH!"

She tore her hands away, the medival hanging fresh in her mind as she looked upon the source. She could feel their anger. Watch as the ropes were tied around their throats. Hear their necks crack.

Contrary to popular belief, hanging was a much slower death than people thought it was.

Alice had been forced to watch enough that she knew it by heart.

The look in their eyes, the choked screams, the cracking.

Their bodies just swinging in the air after, like ragdolls.

Focus, you don't have time, she chastised herself.

Alice ran her knife along her palm, blood begining to flow from between her fingers onto the roots of the three.

She began to chant, the enchantments falling from her lips like tears. "Ego vocare ignem... ego vocare ignem... ego vocare ignem..."

The blood turned to flames. Great, crimson flames that ravaged at the hanging tree and ate away at it, fueled by the anger of the Thirteen themselves. The flames were darker than most fire, it ate away at the tree at an immense pace, but didn't touch anything else.

Hellfire.

Alice could hear the screams of the Thirteen echoing through the forest.

"I'm sorry," Alice whispered, tears falling from her eyes as she felt their pain through the flames. "Let me help you leave this world, this pain, behind."

When she opened her eyes, the Thirteen stood before her.

They let her draw a large circle with her blood, around them in the foliage. Alice closed her eyes, beginning to chant again.

"....Deane...."

When she opened her eyes, they were gone.

Alice watched as the fire continued to eat away at the tree, causing ash to fall from the sky like rain. She began to back away, careful not to let any of it touch her.

Rowan. The tree of mountain ash.

The most effective wood to repel witches.

Soon enough, the tree was a charred and shrivelled husk. The fire ebbing away and dissipating as if it were never there in the first place.

It left a ring of ash around the tree, that Alice knew she could never cross.

She turned, gazing towards the direction that the others had all run off into. They were deep into the forests now, and the closest thing to civilisation was the motorway that Alice didn't want to risk crossing again and an SOS phone that was probably too many miles away to walk to without complaining.

In a way, she felt as if she were back in her childhood. Back in the fells and forests of Pendle Hill.

Sometimes Alice couldn't tell if she were a city girl at heart, or a country one. Not when she'd spent her entire life isolated from human society as much as possible.

In a way, Pendle was a blessing, and she missed it.

But now, it was a like a mummified corpse, a deadenned husk just like the Rowan tree and haunted with the memories of everyone that had died.

Alice could never go back there. No matter how much she missed it. The last week had shown her that much. The eight days she spent with Tom were hellish.

They couldn't even look each other in the eyes.

Alice tried to push the memories from her mind and began to walk in the direction the others had run off into.