Don't Speak

Chapter 2

“This is your fault!” Zoe was on her knees next to Becca, holding her head in her lap, looking back at the table where Roxi still sat.

“How is this my fault?”

“If it wasn’t for your stupid dares!” Jill screamed, practically in tears.

“Is your dad still here?” I asked.

Jill shook her head. “No, he left, remember? I told him he could go and I’d shut the lights off once Becca and Maddie came back.”

“We should call 9-1-1,” I said.

“And tell them what?” Roxi asked.

If looks could kill, Roxi would’ve been 6 feet underground, but I held my tongue.

“What was their dare?” Zoe asked, looking up, still holding Becca’s head in her lap.

Roxi folded her hands, digging her fingers into her cuticles, nervous.

“What was their dare?!” I screamed.

“They had to go to the village. You know, the Pilgrim Village. And get the book.”

“The book?” Zoe asked, confused.

“Their clue had more details. It’s a book that those who stay in the village use. It’s called The Book of Curses.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I stood, trying to decide whether to bury my fist into Roxi’s face.

“No. It was a simple dare.”

“It’s theft.”

“It’s no worse than any other dare that was passed around.”

“That village is creepy.” Jill shuddered.

“It’s just an historical landmark,” Roxi shrugged. “It should’ve been no big deal.”

“It’s not just an historical landmark.” I stood up, and turned my eyes on Roxi, making sure she was listening. “Those people, they live there. Year round. Yeah, during the tourist season they dress up as pilgrims and do their historical bit, but there’s a lot more going on there. They hold rituals at night.”

“Rituals?” Zoe asked.

“Yes. Rituals.”

“What kind of rituals?”

“I don’t know,” Jill answered, “but I’ve heard they do sacrifices. Chicken. Goats.”

“All I do know is that we need to call an ambulance. And the police.” I pulled my cell phone out to dial 9-1-1, but Zoe grabbed my arm.

“No!”

We all looked over at her.

“What do you mean?” I asked sternly.

“No cops. I.. there’s something I haven’t told you guys.” She looked around at us, staring at her. The light over the cafe counter behind us started to flicker. The kind of flicker that happens only in horror movies.

Jill’s eyes locked to the door Becca stumbled through. “Guys, did you hear that?”

We all stopped talking. Stopped breathing. The darkness outside the door seemed to seep through. The light behind the counter flickered twice more and then went out, leaving us in a dull red glow left from the exit sign.

“Um, guys. I don’t like this,” Jill whispered. She reached out and grabbed my arm. I was so scared, I could barely feel her fingernails dig into my skin.

The smell of the red-caked mud on Becca’s clothes clung in the still air, like a stagnant swamp. The breeze outside picked up and circled around the front of the cafe, blowing the wind chimes into a faint metallic sound echoing in the night.

“Maybe it was just the chimes,” I whispered back.

Then there were whispers from outside the walls.

“I don’t know what that is, but if Becca was right, we should have left as soon as she came through the door. What if whatever it was followed her her?”