Sacrificial Sister

“Watch your step.” Tucker or Tuck, breaths right into my ear as I hold on tight to his uncomfortably sweaty hands over my eyes. This isn’t what I signed up for nor what I was expecting when my sister said she found a great guy for me with connections in the art industry. I wouldn’t exactly call nighttime security at the Metropolitan connections. 

“And you're sure this is legal?” I laugh nervously as he tries to guide me to this secret spot he has our date planned. 

“I get paid to hold the keys to this place. If I wanna take a hot date for a tour of her I can do so if I please.” His tone is cocky and mixed with a heavy southern drawl, oh so irritable. I’m already writing the aggressive text message I have for Amy in my head as we walk. 

“Can I have my sight back now?” I try to ask it playfully but the restlessness in my voice is clear. He’s been leading me across the empty museum now for a good ten minutes and I can feel my eye makeup rubbing off with every step he takes causing his palm to slide on my eyelids. 

Tucker takes a dramatic breath in to express his annoyance at my badgering. 

“Can’t you city girls ever just enjoy the moment?” He stops and I jerk back at the sudden halt in movement. 

I’m not sure what he’s expecting me to enjoy about being lugged around blindly but I’ve also never found trucks and killing harmless animals that fun either. Finally, he moves his hands away from over my eyes and when I open them it takes multiple blinks to get rid of the blurriness. 

“What the-.” When I can see clearly again I realize im standing straight in front of a dark wood door. “Is there some sort of hidden meaning behind this or..” He laughs behind me and the sound echos off the high ceilings. 

“Hey boss!” Tucker knocks on the door, reaching his arm over my shoulder. 

I only have a moment to even be confused or concerned before it creaks open, pitch black on the other side except for a faint red glow. 

“Well.” He sighs behind me. “I told you to enjoy the moment.” Then he gives me a quick shove in the center of my back and I tumble into the dark room. I turn to run back out but the door is slammed behind me. 

Holy fuck. When I told my mom at the ripe age of thirteen that I wanted to be in a movie I was thinking more along the lines of Love Actually or Harry Potter not the fucking Conjuring. Surrounding me are candles, and lit placed on sconces against the wall. Red candles, black candles basically the way Draculas castle looks in the Keanu Reeves version. In the center of the room, drawn with red paint, at this point in time I refuse to say blood, is a, yup you guessed it, friendly pentagram surrounded by six figures in black cloaks, faces hidden in the darkness. 

“Hello Madeline.” A deep voice from somewhere amongst the cult members calls out to me and it feels slimy coming through their lips. 

“Um..hello?” Part of me feels like an absolute idiot just standing there with my hands by my sides but then how the hell am I supposed to react in this situation. I’m not entirely sure what this situation even is yet. 

“I’m sorry am I supposed to know what’s going on right now cause I don’t think I got the email or..” I’m cut off by another member, this one almost bursting out of their cloak, which would be amusing at another time just not now. 

“One does not need to know how they serve her to be of use.” I swallow a lump in my throat. 

“Okay..” I reach behind me for the door handle and fumble around a little before I feel the cool metal. But it’s locked. Of course it’s locked. 

“See that sounds great and all but im not sure I really understand who her is?” I press my back against the door.

“Amy.” The one who said my name earlier speaks again. Amy? I shrug it off as a coincidence. It’s not like Amy is a rare name. 

They lean over and whisper something in the billowy figure to their right ear. This one pulls their hood off and I audibly let out a sigh of relief. 

“Oh thank God, Amy.” I hold a hand to my heart and I can feel it pumping unhealthily fast. “This is just one of your little theater things. You know I was a little confused when you thought Tucker back there was a good fit for me but then again you were always the less shallow one.” As I’m talking she’s trailing towards me, the ends of her cape-like robe making it seem as if she’s floating across the crushed velvet floors. 

I laugh nervously and she comes to a stop right before me. 

“Madeline!” Amy’s face turns instantly into her usual joyous grin but something about the red light and black crucifix on her forehead makes it all that much more terrifying and not comforting at all. She pulls me in for a hug against my will and as I hesitantly go to return it, spins me around and shoves me into the circle of wannabe dementors. 

“Jesus!” I fall into a tangle of arms, fingers and palms pulling at every part of my body. “Amy what the fuck is going on!” 

Amy stands before me, the sharp light making her features menacing, and pulls out a vial of red liquid, blood, let’s just assume everything that resembles blood is blood now. 

“Maddie, don't be scared!” She's using the same tone of voice she used when I saw a spider in the ceiling corner of my room. Like my fear is silly and nothing bad would happen. I didn’t believe her then either. “She chose you. All of us..we were called but Maddie, Maddie you were chosen.” There’s a horrifying glint in her eyes as she unscrews the cork from the vial and tips its contents out and over my face. 

I squirm under the grip of a dozen arms and gag as I feel thick, warm blood slowly glide down my eyelids, reaching tentatively towards my tightly closed mouth. I feel it start to slip between my lips and my body convulses at the taste penetrating through my teeth. 

“She looks just like her.” A voice from somewhere behind me whispers in awe and a few sounds of agreement follow soon after.

“Of course she does. She was chosen.” The first man to speak retorts back. “Did none of you read last week's email?” He snaps and I picture them shrinking back timidly. 

“Let’s focus on the ritual please. I will not have another demon incident.” Amy chides them. 

All their bickering sends my head into more of a spiral but when I feel a sharp sting on my left wrist I snap back into focus. 

“Ah!” I lull my head to the side as much as I can to see a small golden dagger tip being pushed haphazardly into the skin above my palm. A small bead of red pours down to my fingertips leaving a soft trail behind. 

“Hey don’t do that! Amy! He’s fucking slitting my wrist!” I look at her desperately, writhing against my attackers.

“In a few minutes you won’t even feel it.” She smiles gently and makes a motion with her hand as if to say “it’s no big deal” and my sanity breaks. My sisters’ insane. And also apparently a part of some weird satanic art cult?!

Shit! Another cut, this time on my right and I yank my now open wounded wrist away from the hold of some spindly fingers. It breaks free easily and I almost pause to congratulate myself but then remember I’m currently being sacrificed. I wrench the dagger from the hand that holds it, that also comes free with less fight then I thought, blame it on the adrenaline maybe, and blindly shove it behind my shoulder. Something wet splatters on my face along with the smudged blood as it makes contact with a fleshy mass. 

“Fuck me!” The yelp comes from extremely close to my ear and I fall to the pentagram covered floor, my tailbone bruising on the way down. 

“Jerry!” A couple more screams accompany the man I stabbed but I’m still being held onto by the elbow and shoulder, unable to get free. 

“Maddie, seriously!?” Amy whines and leaps into the pentagram with me grabbing a fistful of my hair. 

I bite my lip hard as she yanks my head back and the skin tears. More blood is now painting my face. 

“You should be grateful you whiny bitch!” Her anger is now very present and almost guttural as she drags me across the carpet to the center of the symbol. Behind us Jerry still cries in pain and I’m pretty sure someone else has fainted at the sight of his face mutilated with a knife. You’d think a cult member would be more assimilated with violence? Next thing I know there’s a bone crunching noise and yet another cry of pain from Jerry. 

“Oh be quiet you pussy!” Amy yanked the dagger out from his skin and now holds it at my neck. 

I grab her wrist using all my strength to pull the blade away from the thin skin between it and my jugular but Amy’s rage was always a force to be reckoned with. 

“Amy let me go!” I tussle against her and the carpet, receiving a few small cat scratches on my neck as I writhe beneath the sharp edge but it’s better than having it slit. 

“Maddie, she chose you!” She yells at me again pressing her weight against my back. 

“Amy, should I get the things in order-.” The same guy, I’m assuming now maybe Amy’s right hand, leans over the both of us as if I’m not fighting for my life. 

“YES RICHARD!” Amy whips her head to snap at him and he jumps back, scurrying away. 

I take this opportunity to lean forward, against the dagger so it pierces skin, and launch her over my head like I did when we wrestled as kids. 

She lands with a thud against the floor and the dagger slips from her tangled wrist. I grab it and use my other hand to balance myself as I stand up. Amy grunts angrily from the floor and I smash a display case containing a heavy stone statue, pulling out, cutting my arm on the broken glass as I do. I run over to the door and begin smashing it against the wood. Behind me I can hear her get up and I use my whole body as leverage. The wood starts to splinter so I gain momentum until there’s a hole large enough for me to fit my hand through. I go to shove it through when once again I’m thrown to the floor. 

Amy keeps me down, her hands on my shoulders, straddled on my chest and I’m wheezing from getting the wind knocked out of me. Her knee pins my wrist to the ground making my grip on the daggers hilt weak and with no ability to use it. 

“Why are you doing this!?” I plead with her. 

“I told you, you were chosen, Maddie!” She lifts my shoulders and then smacks them back into the floor, causing my head to smack against the wood underneath. For a moment my whole world goes blurry. Tears form in my eyes and a sob escapes from somewhere deep inside my chest. 

“When cleaning the scalpel for an incision should I use the rubbing alcohol or is just some Clorox wipes okay?” Richard reappears next to Amy in the shadows and this time she practically growls at him. 

“MUST I REALLY WALK YOU THROUGH EVERYTHING?!” 

I heave myself up and forward until my head smacks against her own and take the momentary freedom to roll out from under her ignoring the throbbing in my head. 

I crawl across the room not sure which direction the door is even in at this point and only stop when I can feel a wall in front of me. I use it to slowly regain my balance and lean most of my weight against it when I’m finally back on my feet. I see her and now the cult member previously patching up Jerry’s face staggering towards me. I don’t know how much energy I have left. Definitely not enough to keep this up but I’m honestly not sure what else I can do. I’m not a quitter. Thatchers don’t quit. Which is also why my battered and bleeding sister is still up and fighting too. I try to think of something quick. I have no more weapon. I left the dagger on the floor in haste to get away. I have no more strength. I feel across the floor and wall for something and stop when my fingers brush against a wooden frame. I push up against it until I feel it tipping forward off its hook. It’s big and sturdy enough to do some damage. 

I hold it out in front of me waiting to swing when Amy and cult member x freeze. 

“Maddie put her down.” Amy holds out a hand as if dealing with a toddler holding a loaded pistol. She seems genuinely terrified. The woman behind her whispers something frantically and Amy shakes it off. 

“Maddie, listen. I won’t try and hurt you anymore, just put her down gently.” She inches forward and I raise it higher. 

I have no idea what she’s talking about but I see I’ve gained some leverage. 

“Go to the other side of the room and put your hands behind your heads.” I say, my voice surprisingly steady. I’ve gained some power too. I’m too afraid to make a sudden movement or even glance down to see what’s so important about the painting I’m holding but I do believe I’m now in the position to make demands. 

The woman behind Amy whispers again and Amy nods. They both start to back away slowly towards the back wall. I take their retreat as an opportunity to make my way towards the door again, never turning my back to them. 

“Maddie just leave her here okay!” Amy calls, her voice traveling across the empty room. 

I run for the final steps towards the door and shove my arm through the crack I made earlier frantically playing with the lock until I hear a click and the door creaks open. 

“Maddie put her down!” She calls again this time louder and with the faint stream of light pouring through the crack in the door I finally take a moment to look at the painting. 

It’s a portrait of a woman. Pale, red hair, brown eyes, big nose. It’s truly the most basic, copy and paste white ginger girl and I can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of this whole thing. I don’t even have brown eyes. I hold the painting up high above my head, my arm almost giving out and shout as loud as I can. 

“THIS BITCH LOOKS NOTHING LIKE ME!” With that I smash it against a bent knee and the canvas tears a hole in the middle. 

The three cult members still conscious and my sister bursts into a fit of wails and screams but they quickly fade away as I bolt through the museum, my arms pumping, fire coursing through my veins. When I reach the exit doors I almost break my nose with how hard I fall against them. I’m smiling, relief flooding throughout my body. I reach for the handle, my fingers trembling as I curl them around the cool metal. I twist it down, eyes closed and push out. Nothing. Okay well that’s embarrassing. I chuckle at myself and pull in this time. Nothing. The doors won’t fucking open. The doors are still fucking locked. The screams come back into earshot. Now they're all full of rage. Shit.