The Book of Spells (Private 0.50)

“No! It’s not my fault,” Eliza whimpered, her voice but a weak rasp. “I didn’t know, Catherine. I didn’t know.”

“You did this to me. You did this,” the thing repeated mercilessly.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know. I didn’t . . .” Tears streamed from the corners of Eliza’s eyes, across her temples and into her hair. “Stop,” she pleaded, trying in vain to breathe. “Please, stop.”

She did not use Catherine’s name again, for she now realized, far too late, that Helen was right. This thing was not her friend.

Eliza struggled to breathe, but no air would come. The thing that wasn’t Catherine had a grip like a vise, and it seemed to be growing tighter by the second.

“You did this. You. You did this to me.”

I’m going to die, Eliza thought suddenly, an image of Harrison’s smiling face floating through her mind. I’m going to die right here, and he’ll never understand why.

Her vision started to prickle over with colorful dots, and her hands fell away from the thing’s wrists as darkness started to take her. It tightened its grip and shook her, banging her head against the floor again, over and over and over, and slowly Eliza began to let go.

“You did this. You. You did this to me. It was you. You did this to me.” Yes, it was me. I killed Catherine, Eliza thought, her spirit giving in. I brought this thing back in her place. It was me. I did it. I deserve to die.

And then the door to her room opened.

“Eliza!” Theresa screamed.

The thing was not distracted by the visitor. Its grip merely tightened. But Eliza’s eyes popped open in hope. “Theresa,” she croaked. “Help me. Help . . .”

Theresa grabbed the first heavy object she saw, Catherine’s copy of Wuthering Heights, and wielded it over the thing’s head.

Do it, Eliza thought. Please, just do it. Just end this.

But as Theresa brought the book down, Helen ran in and snatched it out of her hands.

Theresa whirled on her. “What are you—”

“That will do nothing,” Helen said, tossing the book aside. She grabbed Theresa’s hand. “Repeat this with me: ‘Creature from beyond the grave, this is not your home. Return to the darkness from whence you came, and leave this soul alone.’”

At the sound of the spell, the thing lifted one hand from Eliza’s neck and pointed at Theresa and Helen. “Curses on you! All of you! Curses on your families and all the fruit you may bear. Curses on you for all eternity!”

Shaking, Theresa and Helen clung to each other and recited the spell.

“Creature from beyond the grave, this is not your home. Return to the darkness from whence you came, and leave this soul alone.”

Eliza was just about to black out again when suddenly the grip on her throat was released. The thing that wasn’t Catherine stood up and stepped toward Theresa and Helen. Eliza curled into a ball on the floor, unable to do anything but fight for air.

“Again!” Helen screamed.

“Creature from beyond the grave, this is not your home. Return to the darkness from whence you came, and leave this soul alone!”

“Curses! Curses on all of you!” the thing wailed.

It took another step, but this time its legs were quaking. Eliza saw this from the corner of her eye. The spell was working, but it was not strong enough. She reached for Helen’s ankle, the only part of her she could hope to touch, and clung to her for dear life.

“Again!” Eliza croaked.

“Creature from beyond the grave, this is not your home!” the three girls shouted together. “Return to the darkness from whence you came, and leave this soul alone!”

The thing made one desperate lunge, reaching for Theresa’s throat. Theresa let out a scream, but before the hands could reach her, the thing that wasn’t Catherine went stiff and fell over onto the floor. Its eyes stared across at Eliza, and as Eliza watched in horror, they slowly glassed over with a gray fog. Whimpering, Eliza sat up, gagging and coughing and sobbing, her hands at her throat. The locket instantly turned cold, but Eliza could feel that it had scorched her skin. Theresa hit her knees and reached for Eliza as she crawled away from the body and toward the door. They clung to each other as Eliza’s body was racked with choking sobs and coughs.

“She attacked me,” Eliza heard herself say. “She attacked me.”

“Why?” Theresa asked. “Why would Catherine do that? After we brought her back. After all we did for her.”