The Deadly Dance

Chapter 5: Day Eight

I begin running, my lungs aching in pain. Blood drips on the floor, and I have no sense of direction. I turn left and then right, but I can't seem to find the exit. I managed to find my phone. Quickly begin to type in the number for emergencies; the blood pouring from my hands proves to be a problem, and just as I am about to type in the last number, I feel a sharp pain in the back of my head.

I sit up suddenly, covered in sweat, my breathing heavy. I don't remember what the dream was about, but whatever it was, it chilled me to the bone. I walked downstairs yesterday, and Aunt Carol told me that I had been asleep for two days. Yet, I still feel like I haven't gotten a minute of sleep. Since then, my head has been pounding.

I make my way to the kitchen for some hot coffee and Ibuprofen. I felt like I was being stabbed by a thousand needles and like a heavy brick was weighing me down. I take a drink of coffee and swallow the small, round pill. I waited for the pain to dull, but it never did, not even a little.

I walk outside, the fresh air filling my lungs. Maybe a walk will help with the pain? Everything is foggy and blurry because of the pain. I keep going with my hands on my head; the pain getting worse, and I feel like I'm going to pass out.

Just like that, my vision goes dark. When I awake, I'm in an unfamiliar place. Soon enough, I realized that I was on the dark side of town—the sad and depressing side—the place where the outcasts are left to rot. My headaches as I slowly get to my feet.

I look around and wonder how I got here. I assume that I just wandered here while walking. I hold my head and wince in pain, my ears ringing. This has never happened before. "Miss, are you okay?" I hear someone speak. I look up and see a girl who looks to be roughly twelve years old.

I nod, not wanting to hear the sound of my voice. "If you have a headache, my mama has a special remedy for getting rid of it." She smiles, dragging me by the hand to follow her. Soon enough, we came to a stop in front of a decaying house. There were no windows, half of the roof was missing, and you could see smoke coming from the top. I felt really bad for these people.

I can't imagine what they've been through. "This way," the girl says, walking through the door. I follow behind her. "Mama, you have another patient." She yells, sending a sharp knife-stabbing pain through my whole head. "Another headache patient?" The woman questions; she has her hair pulled back in a messy bun, and her face is covered in dirt.

"Kit, go grab my herbs." She says to the twelve-year-old girl. Kit nods and hurries off. "Emma, is it?" I nod. I was shocked that she knew my name. She gestures for me to take a seat. I do. The couch is dirty and covered in mold.

"Do you have any other symptoms other than headaches?" I shake my head. "No, just headaches... " "Here, drink this." I look at the green-looking liquid.

Grabbing the glass I brought it to my lips. The liquid was warm and clumpy. I felt like throwing up as I kept drinking it. Finally, the glass was empty. My head stopped hurting, and my thoughts became clearer. What was in the drink? I'd rather not know.

"If you are looking for information I would go to the abandoned dungeon. Where the town drunks stay," Kit says. I nod in response. "I'll be off; thank you so much for helping me." I smile. I leave the house and make my way to the dungeon.

Raven's peak dungeon, in the past, was used as punishment for crimes. If someone broke the law, like, for example, the old law of no witchcraft. I'd never been there before; the feeling around the place made all the hair on my body stand up.

I walk into the dungeon. The smell of alcohol fills my lungs. I pinch my nose in disgust. I hated the smell. I walked into a room. Several townspeople are gathered around a fire, all except for one person, Jack Micalahand.

Jack is a middle-aged man with unkempt graying hair and a scruffy beard. He wears tattered clothing, stained with alcohol. His piercing blue eyes are bloodshot, and his skin is weathered from years of living on the streets. Even through all this, he knows everything in this town. He was the one who put the note on my bed. I just know he is.

"Ahh, Emma, I've been expecting ya'. Took ya' long enough." He comments with a sarcastic."Let's cut to the chase, Jack. What all do you know?" I questioned him. One thing I knew fairly well about Jack is that he is a very, very stubborn man to deal with. "The question is, what do you want to know?" He corrects me in his stubborn way. "What did you mean on the note? What do the raven and owl mean to the victims?" I questioned him.

He smirks, and I wait impatiently. "Well, when they are marked with owls, they know too much; when they're marked with ravens, they were planned out to be victims." I gulp. How does he know all of this?

Could he be involved? Or could the owl and raven burns be a way to distract me?

I needed to figure this case out myself, or I could risk losing my job. "Ya, okay, there, kiddo?" Jack asks, and I nod. "How did you find out about the marks?" I ask, he gives a grim expression. "I can't tell you much other than that Dillon boy found out and got himself killed." I nod, knowing that he doesn't want to be the next victim on the murder list. I thanked Jack before finding my way out of the dungeon.