Chapter 27 "Awakening"
MARGARET
Margaret stood over Ember's unconscious body, the ceremonial knife gleaming in the candlelight.
Everything was proceeding perfectly.
The girl lay strapped to the altar, her breathing shallow but steady. The four women of the coven Millicent, Beatrice, Helena, and Ruth had formed a perfect circle, their chanting creating a barrier that would contain Rosanna's spirit when it finally separated from the host.
"How long has it been?" Millicent asked, not breaking her chant.
Margaret checked her watch. "Fifteen minutes. We're right on schedule." She turned to Adrian, who stood frozen against the far wall, his face pale as death. "Adrian, come here. You need to witness this. It's your family legacy."
"I don't want to watch," Adrian said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't care what you want. This is your responsibility as an Ashcroft. Now come here."
Adrian didn't move. His eyes were fixed on Ember's face, peaceful in unconsciousness, unaware of what was about to happen to her.
Margaret felt a flicker of irritation but pushed it aside. Adrian would understand eventually. They all did, once the immediate horror faded and they saw the bigger picture.
"Beatrice," Margaret said. "Prepare the host."
Beatrice moved forward with practiced efficiency, producing a pair of scissors from her black robes. She began cutting away Ember's clothes the blue sweater first, then her shirt, then her jeans.
"What are you doing?" Adrian's voice cracked. "Why are you"
"The ritual requires direct contact with the host's skin," Margaret explained calmly. "The marks we place must be precise. Clothing interferes with the process."
"You didn't tell me you were going to" Adrian looked away as Beatrice continued her work, stripping Ember down to her underwear. "This is wrong. This is"
"This is necessary." Margaret's voice hardened. "Now be quiet and let us work."
Beatrice finished and stepped back. Ember lay on the cold stone altar in nothing but her bra and underwear, goosebumps rising on her exposed skin. She looked so small. So vulnerable. So innocent.
Perfect.
Margaret moved to the brazier in the corner where an iron rod had been heating for the last twenty minutes. The end glowed orange-red, the metal shaped into the symbol they needed a circle with a rose in the center, thorns extending outward.
The mark of the Scarlet Woman.
"Helena, hold her right arm steady," Margaret instructed. "Ruth, the left. Millicent, prepare to contain the spirit when it emerges."
The women moved into position. Helena and Ruth each grabbed one of Ember's arms, holding them firmly against the altar despite the leather straps already in place. Extra precaution. The spirit would fight.
Margaret lifted the glowing iron, bringing it close to Ember's bare shoulder.
"Wait" Adrian started forward, but Beatrice blocked his path.
"Stay back, boy. Don't interfere."
Margaret pressed the iron against Ember's skin.
The reaction was immediate.
EMBER/ROSANNA
Pain.
Searing, burning, unbearable pain that ripped through every nerve in Ember's body.
Her eyes snapped open not Ember's gentle brown eyes, but something else. Something ancient and furious.
Inside Ember's consciousness, Rosanna Vale surged forward with a rage that had been building for over a century. Rosanna now had a better control over Embers mind.
They're trying to kill us, Rosanna's voice echoed through Ember's mind. They're trying to destroy us like they destroyed me before.
Stop them, Ember's consciousness whispered back, too weak to fight, too terrified to care about consequences. Please, make them stop
Rosanna took control.
The transformation was instantaneous. Ember's body went rigid, every muscle tensing. Her eyes turned completely black not just the pupils, but the entire eye, like staring into empty voids. Black veins began spreading from her temples, creeping down her face like cracks in porcelain.
And then she moved.
MARGARET
Margaret barely had time to register the change before Ember's no, Rosanna's hand shot out and grabbed Helena's wrist.
The strength was impossible. Helena was a large woman, solid and strong from years of farm work. But Rosanna twisted her arm with such force that bone cracked audibly.
Helena screamed.
"Hold her!" Margaret shouted, trying to press the iron against Rosanna's skin again. But the possessed girl was moving now, thrashing with inhuman strength. The leather straps groaned under the pressure.
Ruth tried to help Helena, grabbing Rosanna's other arm. Rosanna's head whipped around, those black eyes fixing on Ruth with predatory focus.
And then Rosanna bit her.
Not a gentle bite. Not a warning. She lunged forward like an animal and sank her teeth into Ruth's hand, tearing through flesh and muscle.
Ruth's shriek was primal, animalistic. She jerked back, but Rosanna's teeth were locked in. Blood poured from the wound, hot and red, splattering across the altar.
"Get her off!" Ruth screamed. "Get her off me!"
Millicent grabbed the ceremonial knife and tried to cut at Rosanna's arm, but before the blade could make contact, Rosanna released Ruth and grabbed Millicent's wrist instead.
The possessed girl's grip was like iron. Millicent gasped as bones ground together.
"Impossible," Margaret breathed. "She shouldn't be this strong. The sedative should have"
Rosanna turned those black, empty eyes on Margaret. And smiled.
It was the most terrifying thing Margaret had ever seen. Because it wasn't a human smile. It was something older, something that had spent a century learning to hate.
"Hello, Margaret," Rosanna said, her voice layered Ember's soft tone underneath something deeper, darker, filled with malice. "Did you really think your little ritual would work?"
The leather straps snapped.
First the left wrist, then the right. The leather split like paper, and Rosanna sat up on the altar, black veins pulsing across her bare skin.
"No," Margaret whispered, backing away. "No, this isn't possible"
"You cursed me once," Rosanna said, standing now, towering over them despite Ember's small frame. "You made me a monster. Well, congratulations." She spread her arms wide. "You created exactly what you feared."
Ruth was sobbing, clutching her mangled hand. Helena had collapsed against the wall, her broken arm hanging at an unnatural angle. Beatrice had already fled up the stairs.
Only Margaret and Millicent remained, and Adrian, frozen in horror against the far wall.
"We can still stop this," Margaret said, trying to sound authoritative despite the fear creeping into her voice. "We can still"
"You can't stop anything." Rosanna's eyes found Millicent, who was edging toward the brazier where the branding iron still glowed. "Don't even think about it."
But Millicent was already moving, grabbing the iron, raising it like a weapon.
"You evil thing!" Millicent shouted. "You destroyed my family! You killed innocent men! You deserve to burn!"
She lunged forward with the iron, aiming for Rosanna's face.
Rosanna moved faster.
She caught Millicent's wrist mid-swing, stopping the iron inches from her cheek. For a moment, they were locked in a struggle the elderly witch and the possessed girl.
Then Rosanna twisted.
The iron changed direction, the glowing end pressing against Millicent's own face.
Millicent's scream was unholy. The smell of burning flesh filled the basement as the iron seared through her cheek, the rose pattern branding itself into her skin.
Rosanna held it there for three seconds. Four. Five.
Finally, she released Millicent, who collapsed to the ground, writhing and sobbing, her face ruined.
"Run," Rosanna said softly, looking at Margaret. And said with a big smile"Run, she kept on saying run and laughing wildly.
Margaret didn't need to be told twice. She grabbed Millicent and Ruth, dragging them toward the stairs. Helena stumbled after them, cradling her broken arm.
Within seconds, the basement was empty except for Rosanna and Adrian.