Amanda Stevens - The Abandoned

My name is Ree Hutchins. You may not remember me. We went to school together in Trinity. I’d like to ask you some questions regarding Oak Grove Cemetery in Charleston. Would it be possible for us to meet?

To her surprise, Amelia responded in a matter of minutes:

Can you come by my place tomorrow at ten?

Ree jotted down the address and phone number, and tucked the note in her bag so she wouldn’t forget. Then she went back to reading the Digging Graves archives. She had no idea how long she’d been engrossed in the entries when she became aware of a chill. The air-conditioning must have cycled on. The outside windows were frosted and a fusty odor hung in the air, which Ree attributed to the moldy vents.

As she got up to adjust the thermostat, she heard the faint strains of a song. She thought at first the plaintive melody was coming through the paper-thin walls of her apartment. Then she realized it was the same tune she’d heard earlier.

Intrigued, she followed the sound into her bedroom. The numbers on the clock radio were flashing, an indication that the power had gone off. Ree had been working on her laptop so she might not have noticed a flicker. When the electricity came back on, the surge probably triggered the radio. Nothing spooky about that.

But the song…it was like being lost in a memory, Ree thought dreamily. She closed her eyes and let the music pour over her, into her, and then the haunting quality began to creep her out a bit so she snapped off the radio and the sensation faded.

After a quick shower, she crawled into bed, but sleep was a long time coming. Even in exhaustion, she couldn’t shut down. Too many disturbing things had happened to her that evening, not the least of which was Miss Violet’s passing.

When she finally drifted off, she had the oddest dream. She was in Oak Grove Cemetery. It was her…but it wasn’t her. And instead of the trashed-out graveyard of present day, the necropolis was lush and well tended, though no less unsettling.…

She wore her favorite frock, an icy-blue sheath shot through with silver threads that caught the moonlight as she moved through the maze of headstones and monuments. Her grandmother had brought the dress back from Paris, a gift for her seventeenth birthday. Father had not been happy. He thought the cut risqué and forbade her to wear it so she’d hidden it away in her closet along with her other illicit treasures. If anyone ever discovered that naughty cache…

She shivered deliciously, the fecund scent of ivy and damp earth enveloping her as she paused in front of a gothic-style crypt, the spires and crosses eerily silhouetted against the night sky. Where was he? They’d agreed to meet at the Bedford Mausoleum, but what if he’d changed his mind? What if he’d decided that she was too young and taboo for someone with his aspirations?

She tried to shake off a nascent unease as she climbed the steps and peered through the leaded glass. Moonlight slanted in from an opposite window, but she could see little beyond a glistening patchwork of cobwebs.

Turning, she scanned the cemetery. The deep shadows cast by the oak trees highlighted the ghostly glow of the marble statues. The unseeing eyes watched her as she ran down the steps and searched among them.

Suddenly, she could hear music from the nearby party and a wave of relief washed her. They were playing her song and that could only be his doing. He was here after all, sending her a secret message. Closing her eyes, she lifted her arms and began to dance.

As she twirled among the angels and saints, she glimpsed him out of the corner of her eye. Dark and brooding, he watched from the shadows. Then he came out into the moonlight and she caught her breath. He was so tall, so regal, so elegantly dressed. She went to him at once and cupping her hands around his neck, pulled him to her for a kiss. He obliged without hesitation, his tongue snaking in and out of her mouth until she grew dizzy with anticipation.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said breathlessly.

“And here I am.” He kissed her again, but this time there was something cold about his touch. “Did you have any trouble getting away?”

“It was almost too easy,” she said with a nervous laugh. “Father left hours ago so all I had to do was wait until everyone else turned in, then slip out the back way.”

“No one saw you?”

“Why would they?” She gazed up at him through her thick lashes. “I’ve had lots and lots of practice, you know.”

“You really are an incorrigible little thing, aren’t you?” His hand stroked her breast and she shuddered. “If the old man knew what you were up to, he’d never let you out of his sight.”

“Must we talk about him?” She pulled away. “You said you had a surprise for me. Where is it?”

“All in good time.”

He still seemed preoccupied and anxiety crept over her. The music had stopped and the night grew unnaturally silent. Where were the crickets? The birds?

“I don’t like this place.”

“I didn’t think you were scared of anything,” he taunted.

“Who says I’m scared?” She lifted her chin in defiance, but couldn’t help jumping when she heard a twig snap. “What was that?”

“Probably someone from the party. Just relax. Here…” He pulled a flask from his pocket and handed it to her. “Drink up.”

She took a long swallow, letting the fiery liquor chase away her apprehension. “Who are all those people back there anyway? Why won’t you tell me their names?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Everything’s a secret with you.” She folded her arms and pouted. “It just seems so silly and childish…these clandestine gatherings in a cemetery.”

“You wanted to come.”

“Will I at last get to witness the ceremony?”

“Oh, yes. You’ll have a very good view.”

“Is that my surprise?”

“Shush. Enough talk.”

Already, his hands were busy at the long row of buttons at her back. When he had them undone, she shimmied out of the dress and stood before him in the moonlight. She felt no shame, no embarrassment. Nothing but the most decadent eagerness.

She touched a finger to the silver medallion he wore around his neck.

“Father has one of these,” she murmured, recognizing the emblem.

“Anyone who is anyone in Charleston has one of these.”

He pulled her to the ground and she rose over him. Her eyes dark and hooded, she bent to kiss him, nipping his bottom lip before she trailed her tongue down his throat. When she reached the side of his neck, she sank her teeth in deeper.

“You little vampire.” He caught her roughly by the shoulders. “I told you not to do that.”

“You told me not to do a lot of things. But then you enjoy them anyway.”

“Not that. You’re like an animal,” he said in disgust. She merely smiled as he rolled her off him. Then he caught her hands and lifted them high over her head. “You need to be taught a lesson.”

She didn’t panic. Even when his fingers tightened around her wrists and his body pressed down on hers.

She felt no fear at all…until she heard the chanting.…

A night bird called from the treetops and Hayden wondered if he should consider it an omen. Where the mist thinned, he could see a ring around the moon. Guard your mirrors and hide your babies , he thought as he absently touched the medallion around his neck. Not tiger’s eye, but silver would have to do. Luckily, he wasn’t overly superstitious. Ironic, considering.