“Where on
earth have you been? I have been worried sick!” Mrs Di Laurentis looked worried as Wren walked in with a brown paper bag
overflowing with groceries. “Mum, I’m almost 18! I can handle myself!” and
started stocking up the fridge.
That
afternoon, Wren left a note on the kitchen counter that he was stepping out
about some college application and headed out to meet Toby Cavanough. They took
the bus number 27B to Riverdale College. As the driver turned into Walner
Street and drove past the houses, the boys couldn’t help noticing Mrs Marin
sitting by the porch, sipping her iced tea. She had snow-white hair and the
iciest blue eyes with which she cast them a spine-chilling glare. Her gaze was
fixed on them, even if the bus faded into the distance. They looked away.
“Hi,
I’m Spencer Hastings, a senior here. I’ll be helpin-” the skinny girl in a blue
sweatshirt paused a moment without finishing her sentence. Wren observed her
lower lip quivering and immediately pointed to a different senior in a
different table.
“Hi,
I’m Emily Fields and I will be helping you with your college application,” said
the girl at the table. She looked a little frightened but still advised him
anyway. Wren wondered why they were all so afraid of him. As he was leaving,
Wren heard Emily talking to Spencer about some kind of sign and what had
happened 18 years ago.
What
happened 18 years ago was history in the small town of Riverdale. It was never
really clear, but Wren had enough. He wanted to know what happened 18 years ago
that made the whole town shut up. He and Toby tried to figure it out and even
asked their own parents but no to avail. They just changed the topic.
On
the way to Toby’s house the next morning, Wren saw police outside of Mrs
Marin’s house. Her corpse, which had a stab in the stomach, was being carried
out into a minivan for investigation. Wren tried to ask Officer Holbrook to let
them see the house but he wouldn’t let them. “It’s not important,” he shrugged.
Wren managed to sneak in the house and saw that there were signs drawn on the
walls messily in blood. “She must have done this when she was murdered! This
was the sign Spencer and Emily were talking about yesterday,” Wren thought to
himself.
§
Two
days later, Wren woke up to a birthday banner and breakfast in bed from his
mum. “Happy 18th Birthday!” she said as she kissed him on the
forehead. He thanked her and had some quality time with her till the evening.
Mrs Di Laurentis said that she had to go for a work dinner with her boss and
staff.
Wren
was really bored that night so he decided to clean up the house. He took all
the boxes filled with books and placed them in the attic. Once the attic was
filled up, there was no more space to keep things so he went down to the
basement, which he had not been to for years. As he carried the heavy boxes
into the crammed, damp basement, he heard loud chants. He tried to hear where
they were coming from. He stumbled upon a lid of a trapdoor. “I didn’t know we
had a trapdoor,” he thought to himself. He opened the lid and walked down the
old, creaky wooden steps.
The
moment he stepped in, he saw that it had been transformed into a dimly lit
chamber. He saw his mum, Officer Holbrook and nearly quarter the small town
sitting in a big circle with the sign Mrs Marin drew on the walls of her home
the night she was murdered. There was also a big fire at the edge of the
chamber. The moment they acknowledged Wren’s presence, silence fell across the
room. “You have finally come,” Mrs Di Laurentis boomed. “We have been waiting
for you for 18 years. Now is finally the time!”
Wren
was confused. “18 years ago, we created a monster from this symbol, you, and you
terrified all the people in this town. This whole town agreed to never tell
anybody about this, and if they did, they would be settled, like Mrs Marin,”
she snorted. Wren was shocked. He now understood why Mrs Marin would always
stare at him, why Spencer and Emily was so scared of him and even why Officer
Holbrook didn’t allow him to go in the house.
“To
keep you under control, every week we had to chant together to this powerful
symbol. After 18 years, exactly on your birthday, we will have to sacrifice you
to the God of the Symbol. Come, my child, come to me,” she bellowed as
everybody got up to grab him. Someone managed to get hold of him and nearly
pushed him into the fire…
Wren
woke up with sweat dripping down his neck, his head drenched with sweat and
throbbing, his heart pumping so fast. “Thank God that was just a dream,” Wren thought.
He felt thankful and relieved… until he heard chanting coming from below.
No comments:
Post a Comment