Witch Child (River Run Book 3) by M. L. Bullock

Author:M. L. Bullock [Bullock, M. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine–David Ray

As I hung up the phone after speaking with Sabrina, a sense of foreboding washed over me, tinged with an undercurrent of excitement. I felt it was important that Sophia and Mike Boyson attend too, as they had been involved in this too.

The River Run case wasn't just another haunting—it was steeped in the lore of the Fairfield Witch Trials, a slice of history that I had studied extensively but never expected to confront so directly.

My heart pounded with the anticipation of facing what might be one of my most challenging encounters.

Knowing the gravity of what lay ahead, I retreated to my meditation room, a space filled with ancient symbols and artifacts that I had collected over the years, each item vibrating with its own history and power. I needed to connect with the spirit world to understand the forces at play at River Run before arriving there.

I was currently single; Katie took off about a week ago. Better for me. She was a drain on my energy.

I lit several white candles and frankincense, the flickering lights casting shadows that danced across the walls, creating an otherworldly ambiance.

As I sank into a deep trance, the air around me grew chilly, and the edges of my consciousness blurred. I invited the spirits to speak, to reveal the truths hidden in the shadows of River Run.

The room filled with the sound of eerie winds, a symbolic manifestation of the spiritual storm that awaited me. Whispers snaked through the air, unintelligible at first, then growing clearer, more urgent.

Then, there he was—the entity at the heart of River Run's haunting. Not just a disgruntled spirit or lost soul, but a devilish presence, his form in my vision was a dark, swirling vortex of malevolence.

Dear God. It’s the devil himself. His eyes, if you could call them that, burned with a hellish glow, piercing through the veil between our worlds. The encounter was so intense, so vivid, that I snapped out of my trance, gasping for breath, a wave of nausea overwhelming me as I wretched, the taste of bile sharp in my throat.

"You dare to trespass, David Ray?" the chilling voice echoed in the corners of my room, long after the vision had faded. "You and the witch, Sabrina, meddle in realms beyond your ken."

As I steadied myself, leaning heavily against the wall, the pieces began to fall into place. His presence was easy to push out, I was surrounded by white light and my meditation room was heavily protected.

The curse at River Run, I realized, was tied to the unjust death of a Witch Child—an innocent who had been wrongfully accused and executed, her spirit bound in turmoil and rage. "She was a witch, yes, but her death... it was unjust. She'd hurt no one. Yet," I whispered to myself, the realization chilling me to the bone.

But I knew this, as well as I knew my name. The child, a girl named Elizabeth, had been innocent when she was murdered but she was marked for evil from birth.

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