option for me.
“I’m not marrying you,” I tell him point-blank in refusal.
“You are.” My father’s stern voice comes from behind me, and I turn to face him with a pleading look.
I can’t believe I’m hearing these words coming from his mouth. The man I’m being forced to marry is a similar age to my father. He’s also evil looking and scary. Worst of all, it seems he can do strange magical things, which until a few minutes ago, I didn’t think were possible.
“Why are you making me do this, Father?”
“It’s your duty, Nyah,” my father replies. He’s towering over me now with his brows furrowed together in annoyance.
“Duty? I don’t want to do this. Why are you forcing me?”
“Let me explain better.” Malachi sighs in frustration. “You mentioned the Salem witch trials. Well, I was a part of them.”
“You were a part of them? You can’t have been…that would make you…”
“Well, I was fifty when I was hung, so that would make me three hundred and seventy-six years old now. I don’t think I look bad for it.” Malachi interrupts my quick mental calculation with a laugh. My parents nervously join him.
“I still don’t understand.”
“I was one of those hung as a witch. But unlike all the other innocent souls that were killed, I am magical, and far from killing me, they unwittingly helped to unleash amazing powers within me. I’m eternally grateful to the idiocy of their puritan pride.”
“So you’re dead…but not dead.” I manage to get the words out of my increasingly dry mouth.
I wish I’d taken another couple of painkillers earlier because my migraine has returned with a vengeance.
“That’s one way of putting it, I suppose. Anyway, your ancestors helped restore me with the gift of their virgin daughter, and ever since, subsequent generations have provided me with an innocent female when I’ve used up the remnants of the last one.
“Remnants?” I question.
His words don’t sound particularly pleasant—in fact, they sound particularly like a nightmare.
“Yes, my powers come from fucking virgins like you. The first time, when I take your virginity, the energy released is particularly powerful. It will leave me young and virile again. Unfortunately, the effect dwindles the more times I take you until you eventually die, and I move onto the next innocent girl.”
I gape at my parents, “And you’re going to let this happen?”
“Yes,” they both reply, nonchalantly. “It’s tradition.”
“You’re going to allow this man to slowly murder your daughter.” I can’t believe they’re letting this happen—do I mean nothing to them?
“It’s not murder, Nyah. It’s a sacrifice for the greater good.” My father tries to excuse his actions.
I don’t know who these two people are in front of me. Has my whole life been a lie? Don’t they care about me? They certainly aren’t behaving like the loving parents I’ve believed them to be my entire life.
“I beg to differ,” I spit out at them.
It appears I don’t have any more time to argue when the man in the black cloak points at the clock.
“It’s nearly time, sir. You don’t want to have to wait another year for her to be ripe again.”
“No, I certainly don’t.”
Malachi pushes me toward the man I now realize is a priest. He takes a piece of old cloth and wraps it around my hands and Malachi’s, binding us together.
“Mr. Hayes, do you take Miss Stratton as your concubine in marriage? And do you promise to look after her until all her powers have been spent?”
“I do.” Malachi replies happily.
I shake my head in refusal as my parents appear at my side. My father holds me still while my mother places her hand over my mouth.
“Miss Stratton, do you allow Mr. Hayes to feed off your virginity and your body for the purpose of giving him life?” the priest asks.
I try to scream ‘no’, but the word can’t be distinguished due to the pressure exerted by my mother’s hand slammed over my mouth.
“She does,” my father answers for me. I stand there shaking my head furiously, trying to escape my parents’ hold.
“No, she doesn’t.” The stained glass window next to us shatters as my brother bursts through it.
“Connor, don’t do this.” My father lets go of me and runs toward my brother to stop him.
“No, Father. It’s you who shouldn’t be doing this,” Connor responds.
Then my brother raises the gun he’s holding, and without another word, he shoots my father in the head. My father’s brain splatters out behind him, and he falls down in a pool