Season 3 Prologue

Episode was written by Ashley McAnelly

Featuring the voice talents of Ashley McAnelly

Theme music was produced by ThaArsonist

Episode was produced by Scott Thomas

Jade: I’m awake. I know I’m awake because I was just dreaming. It was a terrible dream about that night at the Arlington. I could hear Sam screaming, begging for me to come rescue her. I know that part didn’t happen, at least not where I could hear it, but it didn’t matter. She could have told me to get out, that she hated me and would never forgive me, I still would have saved her.

But the cost, that’s what the dreams like to remind me of. The number of lives I snuffed out that night as I moved down the hallway to get to her. I thought it was important to my sanity to remember those people, because they were people, good or not. It was a life taken that otherwise could have been prevented had Richard Cook not been a fool blinded by his hubris. Twenty-three. Twenty-three hearts were in my grasp and I slammed my fist shut on them, ending their lives like flicking off a switch. They didn’t have a chance to make a sound that night, but I hear their screams all the same.

But I startled awake just a moment ago, out of the dream. I sit up in my bed, drenched with sweat and out of breath from the adrenaline and guilt from the dream. I know I’m awake. I know it. I also know that with all the protection spells and wards around my room, that no outside force short of God can mess with me, asleep or awake. I’m not letting Marbas screw with me anymore.

I know I’m awake. I know I’m protected. So why the hell is Damien, the man I killed almost two years ago, standing at the foot of my bed?

[Intro Roll in]

Damien: “Sweet dreams, Jade?”

Jade: I stare at him as I consider what his presence means. Marbas hasn’t tried to screw with me since that night at the Arlington, and even if he did, he couldn’t. Not here. I don’t care how strong he is. The Devil himself would have to pause and take a considerable amount of time to get through the wards around my home, but I know he’s leaving me alone since I led him to the demon trying to stage a coup. So then how the hell is Damien here?

“You’re dead. You need to stay dead and stay the fuck away from me.”

Damien: “How can I do that Jade, when you’ve kept me so close for so long?”

Jade: He stalks around the foot of the bed and comes up to my left side. Between me and the door. Great. As if leaving the room could really save me. But if he is a physical manifestation rather than the ghostly one I dealt with that Marbas produced, I may be in some trouble here.

“What do you want?”

Damien: “Me? Nothing now. I already have what I want, and that’s why I came to say…not goodbye per se, goodbye is too permanent sounding, more like see you later. When you give yourself a reason to bring me back.”

Jade: Bring him back? Damn it, I was afraid of that.

“My guilt is giving you energy to manifest, isn’t it? If that’s the case, I don’t feel any guilt for killing you. You were a serial killer forever trying to enact the murder you so desperately wanted but the chance was taken from you – if you would move on, I’m sure you could join your mother in hell and torture her like you want.”

Damien: “But I can’t move on, now can I? Not since you fed me to your pet.”

Jade: Ah, and there it is. The truth. My own damn hubris cemented Damien’s presence to me as long as Mr. Giggles is around. I not only fed Mr. Giggles Damien’s body, but a piece of his soul as well. But I’ve fed others to Giggles before – why is Damien special? Out of all the people I’ve killed, he is the one that absolutely doesn’t deserve my guilt.

Damien: “Really, Jade? I came to you for help, using you as a means to finally be caught, so I wouldn’t be able to kill anymore, and this is what I got?”

Jade: “Twelve. You killed twelve women because they looked like your mother.”

Damien: “Twenty-three. You killed twenty-three people in mere minutes because they were there. Because they stood in your way. That’s not even counting me or the others before me. So how can you throw stones? Who’s next for you to slaughter and feed to your pet?”

Jade: My eyes burn but I refuse to let him make me cry. Even as I feel the catch in my throat with his words, I don’t have a reply. He’s right. I’m a murderer with a bigger kill count than his.

He smiles.

Damien: “Yes, this level of suffering will do. I came to say see you later, because you don’t need me right now. You have those twenty-three souls to torture you instead. Do have fun with them, Jade. [SFX: this last line echoes as he disappears] Until next time.”

Jade: I blink and he disappears, the echo of his words are his kiss goodbye. And now all I have is the silence, this great big emptiness. I curl up into a ball as the guilt and shame and fear overtake me. The dream I just had slowly becomes a memory almost stronger than the actual memory of that night. Some of their faces are burned into my brain, and some I never bothered to focus on. I remember their bodies, their stance, whether they were already standing in the hallway, or coming around the corner in pursuit of me, but I didn’t take in their face. I remember them but not their face. Remembering them as a number on my kill list will have to be enough to help fulfill my penance. But what the hell will my penance even look like?

Guess only God and Goddess know that one.

I pull myself together and prepare for the day. I still have a bookstore to run, after all. Today I’m looking forward to the sound of my regular patrons filing in, getting their coffee and watching the morning news. Their commentary is always a fun mix of my conservative patrons respectfully talking with my liberal ones. Well, respectful most of the time. Anytime a random customer not part of the regular morning crew tries to butt in completely tone deaf to the situation, it can get dramatic. Which is of course fun for me. But today none of that happens. It’s the normal noise. Honestly that might be exactly what I need now. Less fun times, more calm times.

But when you’re a nominee for high priestess of the local coven, calm times are sure not to last.

The decision is still up in the air, but either way, my how times have changed. I remember not too long ago wanting to burn this coven to the ground, leaving nothing left but scorch marks at their sacred circle. But their circle was my mother’s circle. I would now rather try to save it than raze it.

[SFX: doorbells jingle as front door opens]

Oh, not a customer this time. A FedEx driver instead. He hands me a cardboard envelope and is on his merry way before I can make a remark on his shorts. I think about nothing, go back to listening to my morning crowd as I rip open the package.

[SFX: envelope tearing, soft barely audible thud on the table]

I freeze when a picture of me and my mother drops onto the counter.

It’s not just me and my mother. Roz is there too. It’s a picture I don’t even remember being taken, an old Polaroid of us sitting at the coven circle deep in the Boston Mountains. Roz and I are staring wide-eyed at my mother as she’s talking, very animated with her hands in the air, tracing out whatever story or lesson she was telling us. God, we must have been pre-teens in this picture. The wonder in our eyes is palpable.

I shake the envelope, letting the rest of its contents fall on the counter. Only a letter accompanies the picture, handwritten on notebook paper. I unfold and start reading.

Dear Jade,

There are no words to convey the feelings I feel after that night at the Arlington. What you did for me, I will never forget, never be able to repay you for your selfless act. I don’t know how I could even begin to repay you for what you did for me – I’m sure the cost is much higher than even I can imagine, and I’ve worked with you for years now. I know how you handle situations where people you care about are in danger, and I know you would go to the ends of the earth for them. For me.

I know I’ve not come around as much this summer, partly at Aunt Roz’s request but also partly because I’m exploring more paths, but please don’t take that personally. I fully plan to be back to work once school starts, and I hope you will continue showing me how to harness my power. I still need you to teach me what you know.

Why am I writing this instead of telling you or texting you? Because of the picture. I found it while going through some old photo books of Grandma’s. I hope you keep this letter with it. Both are a reminder that you are not alone. You have people here who love you, even when you’re both too stubborn to say it.

See you soon,

Sam

For the second time today my eyes are burning. Sam never ceases to surprise me with her awareness and kindness. This kid has so much faith in me I’m afraid I’ll fail her. I almost did.

But I can’t fail her. I can never fail her. The night at the Arlington proved that. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her. To protect all the young initiates in the coven. I wipe the tears away as my resolve strengthens me. I will protect them from any threats.

Guess we will see who will be next.