The Middlewych Experiment Read online

  “You can sleep any time,” she says with a sigh, before rolling her eyes. “Listen, I promise you're going to love what I have to show you, but we need to hear off right now. It's about an hour's walk away and I'm assuming you'd like to be back before midnight. So grab some clothes and some comfortable shoes, and let's get going. Would I lie to you?”

  “I don't even know you,” I point out.

  “Exactly. So I have no reason to lie.”

  “I'm not sure that makes a lot of -”

  “Come on! Don't be a loser! You've always been scared, all your life!”

  “No, I -”

  “This is the time to take a stand and to actually do something that's worth doing! Have you ever crept out of your bedroom in the middle of the day before?”

  “No.”

  “Then do it now! With me! I'm going to show you something that'll blow your mind, but I need you to take the first step! Please!”

  I hesitate, before realizing that maybe the best thing is just to do what she wants. Sure, she's intense and a little weird, but I'm pretty sure that she's harmless.

  “Wait out the front,” I say, even though I think I might end up regretting this course of action. “I'll be two minutes.”

  “You won't regret this!” she replies, turning and hurrying away through the bushes.

  I'm tempted to just lock the window again, put in some earplugs, and go back to sleep, but I don't want to be mean. I start getting dressed, and I tell myself that I might as well humor this girl. Once I'm ready, I grab my keys and my phone and then I head out into the corridor. Mom's out at work, so at least I won't be peppered with questions about where I'm going. My head feels a little fuzzy, and I swear my bed is calling me, but Larisa seemed so insistent. By the time I get down to the hallway and start slipping my feet into my shoes, I've at least managed to wake up a little more, so I finally reach out to open the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  Startled, I turn and see Stevie standing in the doorway that leads to the kitchen, holding a glass of juice.

  “What are you doing down here?” I ask. “Shouldn't you be vegetating in your room?”

  “None of your business. Where are you going?”

  “Nowhere!”

  “You're blatantly sneaking out.”

  “I'm not. Just go back to your room.”

  “I can call Mom,” he adds. “If you're not doing anything wrong, you won't mind me doing that.”

  “Don't disturb Mom,” I say with a sigh.

  “Are you going to do something illegal?”

  “No!”

  “Then where are you going?”

  “I'm just going out with a friend for a couple of hours.”

  “You don't have any friends.”

  Sighing, I pull the door open, revealing Larisa standing on the step.

  “Okay,” Stevie mutters, “so you have one friend. Congratulations. Where are you going with her?”

  “Is this your brother?” Larisa asks.

  “Unfortunately,” I reply.

  “He can come with us,” she adds brightly. “The more the merrier!”

  I turn and scowl at her, but then I hear Stevie coming over and starting to put his shoes on.

  “I'm not sure that this is a very good idea,” I say cautiously.

  “Sorry,” Larisa says, clearly aware that I'm not happy, “I didn't mean to cause any trouble. I just thought it might be cool, that's all.”

  “I'll keep you ladies safe,” Stevie says, grabbing his coat and then slipping past Larisa. “The last thing we need is for you to get into trouble.”

  “Sorry again,” Larisa says. “He doesn't seem that bad, though.”

  “You have no idea,” I reply, before stepping outside and carefully shutting the door. “Whatever you've got planned, I can pretty much guarantee that my brother's going to ruin it big-time.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “This is so boring,” Stevie says an hour later, as the three of us trudge through the forest. “Are we actually gonna do something fun, or what?”

  “We're nearly there,” Larisa replies, with a grin on her face. Wherever she's taking us, she seems filled with anticipation. “Prepare your minds, 'cause they're about to get blown.”

  “I feel like I've had my mind blown enough already,” I tell her.

  “In what way?”

  I open my mouth to tell her about all the crazy things that have been happening lately, including the creepy disembodied voice that keeps turning up every so often, but then I manage to hold back. She'd only think that I'm a complete lunatic.

  “It's okay,” she says, lowering her voice a little so that Stevie – who's stomping ahead of us – can't hear, “I get it. Sometimes the world doesn't make much sense, and it's hard to know whether to share your feelings. I guess I just want you to know that I've been there.”

  We walk along for a moment, and I'm really not sure how to respond. I desperately want to talk to someone about what's been happening, but I still can't quite bring myself to say the words.

  “It could be anything,” she continues, still digging a little, as if she's trying to get me to open up. “Something you see, or maybe something you hear. Like voices. Do you ever hear voices?”

  “What kind of voices?” I ask cautiously.

  “Something persistent,” she suggests. “Something bad, that tries to get you to do things you shouldn't.”

  “I'm really not sure,” I tell her, and then I realize that maybe I should just trust someone. “Actually, for the past day or two, I've been hearing -”

  Suddenly something slams hard into my back, causing me to stumble. I almost fall, and then Larisa reaches out to steady me. I turn and look back, but there's no sign of anyone or anything. Still, I know that I was just shoved hard, and I'm pretty sure that the invisible guy was attempting to stop me mentioning the fact that he's around. For some reason, he really seems to not like Larisa.

  “Are you okay?” she asks.

  “Fine,” I reply. “Just clumsy, I guess.”

  “Hey!” Stevie hisses from a little way ahead. “There's a load of morons down by the lake!”

  I turn to Larisa, and it's immediately clear from her expression that this is exactly what she was expecting. Unable to stifle a grin, she reaches out and takes my hand, and then she starts leading me over to the spot where Stevie is standing. Stopping at the edge of a ridge, I look down through the forest and see that my brother was right: there must be at least a couple of dozen people over on the shore on the far side of the lake.

  “What the...” My voice trails off as I squint and try to see exactly what they're doing.

  “This town has secrets,” Larisa says, sounding almost proud as she stops next to me. “Big secrets. You must have sensed that, Larisa. Some people around here know all about what really goes on, while others just turn away and pretend they don't have suspicions. Some people latch onto conspiracy theories about weird military bases on the edge of town, and I've got to admit that there have been times when I've gone down that particular rabbit-hole. The truth, though, is much darker. The evil in Middlewych isn't some external thing that lurks out there beyond the suburbs. It's something that lives and thrives right here in the heart of town. I think you've been sensing it for a while, Annie. I figured maybe you'd like to see the root cause.”

  “What are they doing?” I ask, unable to stop watching as the figures mill about.

  “You ever believed in witches?”

  I turn to her.

  “They do,” she continues. “Middlewych has a long, and not particularly proud, history of dealing with witches in their midst. Sure, Salem was bad back in the seventeenth century, but the real nightmares were the ones that got covered up. Middlewych was right up there, burning and drowning anyone who raised suspicions, and they're not done yet. Some superstitions just don't fade.”

  “You've got to be kidding,” I reply. “No-one actually thinks witches are real.”

/>   “You're a witch,” Stevie says.

  I turn and scowl at him.

  “No, wait,” he adds with a dumb grin, “it's a word that rhymes with witch.”

  “Are you telling me that there's a bunch of witch-hunters right here in Middlewych?” I ask as I look past Stevie and once again watch the people down by the lake. “Are you seriously suggesting that the people of this town are stuck in some kind of re-enactment society?”

  “For them, the battle against witchcraft never ended.”

  “I can believe a lot of things,” I tell her, “but not this. I'm going home.”

  “I thought you'd be more interested,” she replies, as I turn and start walking away. “I thought you'd want to dig into it and learn the truth.”

  “I want to get some sleep,” I say firmly. “I want to not have to think about stuff like this.”

  “What about your brother?” she calls after me. “Don't you want to wait for him?”

  I stop and look over my shoulder, and then I feel a flicker of concern as I realize that Stevie's nowhere to be seen.

  “He went that way,” Larisa adds, pointing down toward the lake. “Somehow I get the feeling that he's determined to get some answers.”

  ***

  “No no no no no!” I hiss under my breath as I crouch down behind another bush and watch Stevie marching confidently toward the group that's gathered on the other side of the lake. “Are you completely insane?”

  “I'm sure it'll be fine,” Larisa replies. “I'm sure he'll just go and ask a few questions, and then he'll come back and report.” She pauses. “Then again, these people don't really like to be bothered too much. I'm not sure whether I emphasized this enough earlier, Annie, but they're pretty dangerous.”

  “I can't believe he's doing this,” I say, as I watch Stevie getting closer and closer to the group, who have clearly already spotted him. “Actually, I can believe it. I should go after him.”

  I start to stand, only for Larisa to grab my arm and force me to stay down.

  “Let's just wait and see what happens first,” she tells me. “There might be no need to go and rescue him.”

  “But they wouldn't hurt him, would they?” I ask. When she doesn't reply, I turn to her again, and I can see the worry in her eyes. “What's going on here?” I continue. “What's really happening?”

  “These people usually have their meetings in private,” she explains. “The fact that they've come out here, to one of the traditional sites that were used for the old trials, shows that they think something's afoot. From what I've read, they only gather like this once in a decade, maybe even less.”

  I watch as Stevie reaches some of the figures, and now he seems to be talking to them. So far, so good, and I can only pray that soon he'll simply turn around and come back this way. Larisa has been hyping things up, but I tell myself that nothing actually bad is going to happen in Middlewych and that this whole thing is just getting massively blown out of proportion. If Stevie would just get a grip and come back to join us, we could head home.

  “They say this lake used to run red with the blood of all the supposed witches who died here,” Larisa says after a moment. “Whether or not you believe in witches, the trials and executions were real. According to one source, a witch named Hannah Stewart was once -”

  “I don't need to hear this,” I say firmly.

  “Apparently she was gutted right down there by the water.”

  “I don't care!” I snap. “I mean, I care, but right now I just want to get home. I should never have let you talk me into coming out here.”

  “Then you wouldn't be having all this fun.”

  I turn to tell her that I don't need any more of her smart comments, but then I hear footsteps nearby. Looking over my shoulder, I'm startled by the sight of several people coming up behind us, and I quickly realize that we must have been spotted.

  “You're Annie Mackenzie, I believe,” one of the men, Maurice Wilkinson from the library, says with a faint smile. “What a stroke of luck. We were just about to send someone to find you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Let go of me!” I hiss, struggling to get free as I'm forced along the shore of the lake and over to the gathered figures. “You've got no right to do this!”

  “And you've got no right to resist,” Maurice says calmly. “This entire gathering is in your honor. It's only right that you should attend.”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask, before turning to Larisa, who's also being forced to walk this way. “What's he talking about?”

  She doesn't reply, but I can see the fear in her eyes. It's as if she knows what's coming, and after a moment she looks ahead. Following her gaze, I see that the others are all gathered next to the water, waiting for us to arrive. Stevie's with them, and he seems utterly stunned by everything that's happening.

  “No!” I yell, suddenly turning and trying to run.

  I manage to break away from the guy who's holding me, but almost instantly another set of hands grabs me and pulls me down, slamming me against the muddy ground. I let out a pained cry as I land, and then – as I stumble to my feet – I feel someone taking hold of the back of my collar and hauling me around.

  “You're not getting away, witch,” the man sneers, leaning close to my ear before shoving me forward so hard that I almost fall again.

  “Hold your tongue,” Maurice says, turning to the man. “I won't have any conclusions being drawn before the test has been carried out. You'll remember that we always treat suspects with great care and courtesy.”

  “Sure we do,” the man mutters darkly, with his eyes still fixed on me. “Until the charges are shown to be true. That's when we start having fun.”

  “Stop here,” Maurice says calmly, stopping ahead of me. “My fellow believers, fate has conspired to bring our suspect to us tonight, and it is now down to all of us to make sure that there is no evil in our midst. Some of you have been part of such a ceremony before, but for most of you the process will be entirely new. This is not a moment for weak stomachs, nor should any of you underestimate the nature of what you will see. The discovery of a new witch is always a profound moment, but it is our duty to clean the land of any such abominations.”

  He turns to me.

  “Miss Mackenzie,” he continues, “you have the mark of witchcraft on your person, do you not?”

  “I don't know what you're talking about,” I tell him.

  “Behind your right ear.”

  “I don't have any kind of mark!” I yell.

  “You do,” a voice says, and I turn to see that Stevie's staring at me.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask.

  “You've got that thing behind your ear,” he says, and now he looks down at his feet as if he can't quite bring himself to look at me properly. “You've always had it.”

  “I haven't got anything behind my ear!” I reply, struggling to keep calm. “Why are you staying that? It's not true!”

  “Let's have a look, shall we?” Maurice says, stepping closer to me.

  “Just let them do it,” Stevie says sheepishly. “They've been telling me some things about you, Annie. They've had their eye on you for a while. They think you've been acting strangely and that there's something different about you, and... Well, what they're saying kinda makes sense.”

  I feel a hand on my shoulder, but I resist the pressure that's trying to force me down onto my knees.

  “This is bullshit!” I say firmly.

  “There's something there,” Maurice says behind me. “I can see it already.”

  “I don't have any mark behind my ear!” I yell, turning to him.

  “It's the mark of Satan,” he replies. “It's raised slightly, you can feel it for yourself.”

  “There's nothing there,” I stammer, reaching up to check, and then I freeze as I realize I can feel a small ridge-like shape running up behind my right ear. I swear, there was nothing there before. “That's just a spot,” I continue,
trying not to panic, “or an inflammation, or a bite. It doesn't mean anything.”

  “It means that all the claims are true,” Maurice replies, “and that we can now confirm the verdict. Annie Mackenzie, it's clear to everyone gathered here that you are, indeed, a witch.”

  All around us, the other people start murmuring their approval, almost as if they're excited by this latest development. I turn and look at them, and I realize that I can feel the nervous anticipation in the air. At the same time, I still find it hard to believe that these people are serious. They have to be cosplayers or historical re-enactment weirdos, or something along those lines. This is the twenty-first century, these people simply cannot be gathered here to accuse people of being witches.

  “We shall test the shorter one first,” Maurice says, turning to Larisa. “You,” he continues, “shall be subjected to the age-old trial for witches.”

  “Come on, seriously?” Larisa replies, sounding more annoyed than scared. “Shouldn't Annie go first?”

  “You will go first,” he says firmly.

  “We'll talk about this later,” Larisa mutters, as two figures take her by the arms and lead her to the short wooden jetty that pokes out across the surface of the lake.

  “What are you going to do to her?” I ask.

  “That is none of your concern,” Maurice replies.

  As soon as she reaches the end of the jetty, Larisa rolls her eyes as a woman starts putting something into her pockets. It takes a moment before I realize that they're weighing her down with rocks.

  “You can't do that,” I say, stepping toward the jetty. “This is dangerous.”

  Before I can take another step, I'm grabbed from behind. I try to twist free, but then I freeze as I see that Stevie is one of the people who's been sent to hold me.

  “What are you doing, you idiot?” I snap. “Hey, this is dangerous!”

  Ignoring me, the men push Larisa toward the end of the jetty. She hesitates as she looks down into the water, and then – to my horror – a man steps up behind her and shoves her forward, sending her crashing down.