The Red Lady

The silver glow of the moon bathed the night sky sprinkling itself between treetops. Casting a dim silver glow onto a leaf covered path. Even in the dim milky light Opal could see the splashes of red, orange and yellow. Signs of an all too real reality that tonight was in fact the night she had been dreading. A cool fall breeze blew in from the north, plucking one of her black curls from beneath the hood of her cowl.

As Opal continued to walk down the path speckles of moonlight gently caressed her face in such a way that her umber skin shown brighter than the leaves beneath. Up ahead she could see the warm flicker of floating candlelight. Among the dancing lights, which were held aloft by an unknown source, Opal began to see human like figures. Her eyes widened and she started to tremble. Her heart pounded and he breathing became shallow as she thought about what tonight was about to become. For tonight was the one night of the year that it had the power to escape. 

The Red Lady had been held captive here for as long as she could remember. The spirit that had tortured souls, both Wiccan and non-Wiccan. However, it was the duty of Opal and her coven to keep the Red Lady captive. Once every year on Halloween night the spirit gained the power to break its earthly tether and without the coven‘s protection the Red Lady would plague every earthly soul. 

Opal approached her fellow cover members her eyes darting from face to face, her body still trembling. They varied in age but most were older than her, there were ten women including herself. That was everyone. Between the flickers of candlelight Opal found Cleodora. The one person who she felt at home with, even on a night like tonight. 

Cleodora greeted Opal with a gentle embrace and an unsettling smile. Her caramel skin shone golden in the dancing light. Her raven braids, that Opal had always admired, fell past her shoulders and her chocolate eyes sent waves of security and warmth into Opal’s chest. The two shared a gaze for only a moment but it felt like an eternity. Not a word was spoken but yet so many things had been said. 

The high priestess, Constance, strode to the front of the dead tree in the middle of the circle of candles. Her hoary hair bounced with every stride. The candlelight danced across her olive skin. Despondency and under circles sat upon her deep set brown eyes. She strained a smile at her fellow coven members, eyes flitting from one member to the next. “My fellow witches.” Her voice cracked. “It has been an honor serving as your high priestess.” She nodded slowly and raised her arms towards the coven. 

Opal proceeded back to the candles, shoulders hunched, eyes down. Iron shackles lay between each candle. The shackles were bolted deep beneath the ground. Everything was the same as last year. She had to tether herself to the earth to ensure earthly protection. She grabbed the chain; it felt like ice touching her skin. The gentle rustle of chain links hitting one another filled the air. It sent a rush of metallic scent into her nose. As she placed the shackles around her wrist, she turned to see her sisters had already done so. She straightened her back and steadied herself for what was to come. 

One of the other members began the chant of old. Soon others joined in, including Opal. Through their chanting Opal could feel herself growing stronger. She could feel the power beneath her skin boiling, burning. She could feel it clawing at her insides. Wanting to escape the prison that was her body. Almost as if she was being ripped open from the inside. Her body seethed with pain then finally the tree started to crack. Slowly the tree began to open and suddenly it burst agape revealing an almost translucent woman with amber hair slumped over. Sweat dripped from her face, she took shaky ragged breaths. As she lifted her head strands of hair fell over her once beautiful face, which was now sunken. Opal knew this girl from the year before, though she wasn’t quite as feeble back then. Her name was Mariana. A single tear rolled down Mariana’s cheek as it gleamed in the moonlight she took one last heavy breath through her cracked lips and let out a gut-wrenching scream as the Red Lady escaped its earthly prison.

The spirit poured from Mariana’s body until it floated above the tree that had held it prisoner for so many years. Its scarlet color engulfed the moonlight. The spirit resembled a lady in figure for it had what, appeared to be locks of hair that seemed to blow in a breeze that wasn’t there. The figure’s shape seemed to resemble that of a woman wearing a simple gown. Yet as demonic as it was, there was something Opal caught herself admiring about it. It was powerful and alluring, standing there Opal could feel it’s power radiating on her skin. Bathing her like the first warm sunlight of spring time. Opal’s eyes widened and her skin turned ashen as a wave of nausea washed over her body. 

Beneath the spirit Opal could see Mariana’s body seeping into the dirt beneath. The earth was absorbing her body. As if it was replenishing itself for the battle it must soon endure. Mariana was free of her torment. She could finally rest.

Quickly Opal switched to a new chant, the binding verse as the elders called it. The spirit began to wrench back-and-forth screaming from within its body. The sound pierced both of Opal’s ears like needles. Opal grimaced as she watched the spirit begin to fly around frantically. It’s body tearing through the night sky. It swirled in anger, surrounded by the coven, unable to escape. The Red Lady turned and barreled towards Opal. It screeched so loud Opal felt as if her head would explode. She felt her knees buckle and streams of liquid silver began to flow down Opal’s cheeks as she prepared for impact, but at the last second the spirit turned and slammed into Cleodora; her body absorbing the spirit. Opal let out a hysterical shrill scream as her sisters continued to chant. Opal pulled at the chains with all of her strength, but their hold on her was too strong. Flailing her body in every way imaginable in an attempt she knew was futile. She watched Cleodora’s body twist and turn in unnatural positions. Crimson rivers began to flow from Cleodora’s eyes as her body went still.

Opal continued to wail in anguish for Cleodora as the chanting grew louder. She watched as Cleodora’s body hovered over to the tree, where just moments ago Mariana’s body had laid. Shackles bound them self around Cleodora’s body and locked theirselves deep within the earth. The tree began to creak shut but just before the tree closed Opal saw Cleodora’s body rise. The raven braids she had admired earlier that same night swayed in the cool autumn air as an evil smile split open her now cold lips.

As the tree closed Opal’s vision went blurry. Her legs collapsed beneath her, giving way to gravity’s relentless pull. The shackles released their deathly grip on her wrists and freed her from her earthly tether. She laid on the ground quivering, unable to comprehend what had just happened. The other members of the coven looked at her with pity and solace in their eyes. Yet no one spoke a word for they knew it was part of the ritual. Shaking, Opal pulled herself off the ground as gut-wrenching sobs tore through her chest. She quietly covered her black curls with the hood of her cowl and turned down the moonlit path. For this was a yearly tradition, and she would be back next Halloween.