Halloween Arrangements Ⅶ

The stars twinkled overhead in the pitch-black darkness of a moonless night. As time passed, Madam O'Germanova slowly began to relax and slowed the horse's pace. The horses had just begun to slow to a steady walk when she heard the bay horse let out a perturbed neigh.

Peering fiercely through the darkness Madam O'Germanova's yellow-tinted eyes furtively peer about, before narrowing to worried slits. Her gnarled hands tighten around the horse's reins as hooded figures emerge from the shrubbery. From beneath their cowls, eerie orange Greek masks are seen with their arms all raised in unison and their wands warningly pointed at her.

Madam O'Germanova's yellow-tinged eyes will with disdain and curls her lips into a sneer as she removes the pipe from her teeth and sets it leisurely at her side. Baring her teeth, she reveals a yellow-teethed smile dyed from tobacco and filled with gaps of missing teeth. Spitting a wad of muck onto the ground, she returns her attention to her horses. She croons to them and hushes the frightened beasts. The horses let out soft whickers and shift on their hooves uneasily, but they quiet down at their master's voice.

Placing the tobacco pipe between her lips, Madam O'Germanova lets out several pensive puffs. The tobacco pipe held in her hand is pulled back as she releases one last final puff with a disgruntled sniff. "Well, what do you lot want with this old bag of bones? I will have ye that if this is regarding about the telling of yer fortune, then you should've read the sign, "NO REFUNDS! NO EXCEPTIONS!"

The hooded figures move together to form a circle around her causing the horses to uneasily move with their ears flickering back and forth. The newly formed circle parts to allow a hooded figure to enter the circle. An arrogant, powerful voice emerges from the hooded figure before her, who wore a white, stone mask of the mightiest of Greek Gods, Zeus. "We seek your services, Soothsayer," the stone masked Zeus matter-of-factly demanded.

"My tent is closed for the season," Madam O'Germanova hmphed. "It is late, and I have many roads which to travel, stranger. Come again next year to have your fortune read. But if your urgency is such there are others that I can recommend."

"You will be rewarded handsomely for your time and efforts," the stone masked Zeus persuasively said ignoring her previous words. "I can assure you that no harm will befall you nor your family afterward, you have my utmost word."

Madam O'Germanova slips the tobacco pipe between her lips again and lets out another puff of smoke. She knew that her words would fail to dissuade the group and their leader before her. And running wasn't an option, she was surrounded nor was she young anymore. There was no guarantee she'd survive battling her way out of the ambushed trap.

Letting out a tired sigh, Madam O'Germanova again sets her tobacco pipe down at her side. "Suppose I believe you, stranger," she finally said. "What exactly would I be doing?"

"Anthropomancy," the stone masked Zeus answered.

Madam O'Germanova choked loudly as her eyes widened in shock and horror. "That is forbidden, and most foul of magics," she spat out utterly horrified at the request. "What madness has corrupted your mind to dare request such foul things!"

"And yet you know it, Gypsy," the stone masked Zeus coldly stated. "Do not attempt to lie to me, Madam O'Germanova nor attempt to play innocent now. In your quest for power did you not tangle with all manner of things. It is a little too late to seek the moral high ground especially one as morally corrupted as yourself!"

Madam O'Germanova's lips curl into a bitter sneer. "That may have been true once long ago," she snarled, "but I am old now, and that woman is long-buried in ages past as I no longer thirst nor seek such things."

The stone masked Zeus appeared to be stunned for a moment, before confidently retorting, "And what of your family?"

"What of them?" Madam O'Germanova warily snapped as she gazed through narrowed eyes at the figure with the Zeus stone mask. "Is that a threat, stranger?"

"Can you say with absolute certainty that they will not be tempted by such an offer?" The stone masked Zeus threatened.

Madam O'Germanova lets out a pained sigh as she knew that some of her children were prone to greed. She could not deny the truth of that statement, and nor would she permit her children to commit such a foul act. Her bluff had been called and now she had to reveal her hand.

"Very well, stranger, I will abide by your request," Madam O'Germanova coldly said. "However, remember that a Roma's wrath is a terrible, awful thing to behold."

"You are not the first nor the last to curse me," the stone masked Zeus plainly stated, "nor will you be the last. But a word of caution, Gypsy, I dislike being threatened, and I do not give a forewarning."

Madam O'Germanova spits a wad of dark-tinged spit onto the ground with scorn. "Then you should know to remember who and what I am, stranger, I am not some mere charlatan or as kind-hearted as the deceased Priest of the Spirits. Aye, I am weaker than he was, but I more than make up for it with sheer spite and viciousness."

"Mm," the stone masked figure of Zeus said as if paying no attention to her words. "So, shall we commence the ceremony here and now, Soothsayer?"

"Payment first," Madam O'Germanova grumbled. "And will ye swear on your magic that no harm will come to me and my family from you, your associates, and through other means?"

"I vow by my magic that nor any of my associates and through other means to not bring harm to Madam O'Germanova and all her existing family members" the stone masked Zeus vowed as he held out his hand and a blinding light appeared confirming the vow, before fading away.

Madam O'Germanova did not trust the stranger, who vowed so easily, but she could not find any fault with the stranger's words. Nodding her head, she descended from the wagon and led the wagon horses to the side of the road. The horses neigh uneasily and rub their noses against her forearms seeking comfort. She gently pats the pair, before firmly tying the wagon to the side of the road.

Reaching into the wagon, Madam O'Germanova pulled out a carpet bag at the back of the wagon. Dusting the dust from the old thing, she emerges with a grunt and makes her way onto the middle of the dirt path. "Where be the payment and sacrifice?' Madam O'Germanova grumbled.

One of the hooded figures wearing an orange Greek mask tosses a pouch at Madam O'Germanova. Chanting an old Roma, she senses that the wealth and materials contained within the enchanted purse are curse-free and hold no foul tricks. Tucking the pouch securely into the crevices between the folds of her chest, she sniffs loudly.

Glancing up at the sky, Madam O'Germanova reveals a gap-toothed, vile sneer. "The New Moon nearly reaches the highest point in the sky, the time for the ceremony will soon pass."

"Patience, Soothsayer," the stone masked Zeus chided before a loud popping sound is heard.

Madam O'Germanova feels a sickly twist in her stomach at seeing a youth roughly in his sixth year at school. The boy was blond, pasty white, but large, and muscled. There was a dull expression on his face as he appeared to be under the force of some enchantment.

"Begin," the stone masked Zeus ordered without any pause.

Madam O'Germanova clenched her carpetbag tightly in her gnarled, spotted hand, before recalling her own family. Numbing herself, she pries open the carpet bag which she swore never to open again. Within the depths of the carpetbag lie sharpened knives that hold traces of old rust stains and shriek of their usage. There are shrunken vials that hold the remains of exotic animals, and others that still somehow against all odds preserve still-beating organs. Those are the most benign of the vials for there are fetuses and the corpses of newborns contain therein for the use of sacrificial magic.

It was a terrible past that she had promised herself to never recall, and yet here she was once again about to repeat the same sin which she swore to never commit again. The road to Hell is paved by the best of intentions, and there are those that can never outrun their past. For the past is a terrible, hungry thing that never allows one to escape its daggerlike clutches. Always hungry, always digging, always wanting more and more, an insatiable creature that can never be fed.