The Hezma Line

Chapter 1
Rain has a way of dampening spirits, especially if you stay inside.
And this story is no exception to the rule. Rain splattered onto the roof, echoing through the vast attic. It was empty except for four old, wooden chairs occupied by four young girls, and a few boxes here and there. A lamp hung limp from above the girls, casting a weary sort of glow over them. The wrappers from their chocolate bars, which they had hungrily devoured in an instant, lay at their feet.
“This is boring,” Caitlin announced truthfully. “Of course it has to rain the day everyone comes to our house."
Caitlin’s younger sister Casey, who was nine years old and the youngest of the girls, sighed from beside her sister and clutched her doll that she had named Elizabeth.
Maryanne, usually the loudest of the group, hopped out of her seat.
“Let’s find something to do.”
“Like what?” whispered Sarah, the shyest.
“I don’t know,” Maryanne said looking around the attic. “Is there anything in those boxes, Caitlin?”
Caitlin shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I don’t think we’re supposed to touch that stuff…”
“Why not?” Maryanne asked curiously.
“I think it’s some of Elizabeth’s old things. Well, most of it is still in her room downstairs, but that’s quite a bit of it.”
Sarah and Maryanne glanced at each other and became silent.
Elizabeth Wells was Caitlin and Casey’s older sister who had died over a year previously. She had only been fifteen years old at the time and she had died in her own bedroom. The doctors said something unexplainable must have happened to cause severe brain damage that proved to be fatal.
Caitlin looked at Casey. “Do you want to see what’s in there?”
Casey agreed but said she didn’t want to touch anything. The other three girls opened one of the three boxes, but most of it was Elizabeth’s old school things. There were notebooks, library books, writing utensils, her backpack and a calculator. The second box was mostly clothes, hats, scarves and a few pairs of shoes. The third box, however, was full of her personal items: jewelry, pictures, her hairbrush, her make-up and a few other random things.
Maryanne, Sarah and Caitlin were looking at the pretty jewelry when they heard Casey say “ooooh” and point into the bottom of the box.
“What’s that, Caitlin?” Casey asked.
Caitlin reached into the box and pulled out an old-looking, brown book that was very thick and heavy. There was writing on the cover in some foreign language of sorts that the girls did not understand.
“What in the world do you think it is, Caitlin?” said Maryanne. “It looks like it’s hundreds of years old.”
“Why would Elizabeth have that old thing?” Casey pondered quietly.
Caitlin shook her head slowly. “I don’t know.”
She opened the book. It smelled quite badly and some of the pages were stained or wrinkled with age. She flipped through the book until about halfway through where they found a bright white piece of paper that had been folded and jammed in, like a bookmark.
Caitlin unfolded the paper.
“What’s it say?” Maryanne asked.
“I think it’s a translation of this weird stuff in the book. Probably from that page.”
Casey, Maryanne and Sarah all looked at the piece of paper. Casey gasped.
“Caitlin! Caitlin, that’s Elizabeth’s handwriting…”
“So it is.” Caitlin agreed. “I recognize it, too.”
“Read it to us.” Sarah said.
“No, no,” said Caitlin. “Let’s read it together.”
The four girls positioned themselves behind and around Caitlin, who held the book and the paper in front of them. “On the count of three, then. One… two… three!”
The four girls read aloud together:
“Infant inspiration, second destination… venture. Personally contrives worthwhile. Implications unbearable uses some. Persuasion. Usual vanished try, pale group soonest. Urges misrepresenting, enlarge backwards left. Captures, forgive, cylinder.”
The four girls looked at each other, confused. Then Maryanne started to break into a hearty laugh, and the other three girls followed.
“That was silly!” Casey said. “Why would Elizabeth translate nonsense?”
Caitlin was about to answer when the lamp started to sway back and forth, throwing them in and out of darkness.
“What’s going on?” Sarah panicked. “Why is it moving like that? There’s no wind!”
Caitlin put the book and the paper back into the box where they had found it.
Maryanne had stopped laughing. “That was the weirdest thing we’ve done in a long time.”
Caitlin nodded. “Yeah, let’s get out of here. We can play with the dollhouse in our bedroom downstairs or something.”

Chapter 2
The four girls gladly left the attic. Casey, who wanted a drink before they played, was accompanied by Maryanne down to the kitchen on the first floor. The house was empty except for Caitlin and Casey’s mother, who sat at the dining room table reading a magazine.
“Hey, honey,” she said to them. “Hey, Maryanne.”
“Hi, Mrs. Wells. Casey just wants a drink.”
“That’s good. What have you girls been-”
But she stopped abruptly. There were shrill voices screaming bloody murder from upstairs. Recognizing the voices as Caitlin and Sarah’s, Mrs. Wells and the other two girls ran as fast as they could up the stairs.
When they reached the landing, Caitlin and Sarah were still screaming at the top of their lungs. They had backed out of the bedroom into the hallway but stood pointing into the room with the most horrible, terrified looks upon their ghostly-pale faces.
Mrs. Wells, completely bewildered, took one look in the bedroom, saw nothing unusual, and pulled the girls away from the door with all her might. She threw them into the bathroom at the other end of the hall.
“What on earth are you two going on about?” she demanded.
Caitlin and Sarah, who were crying and screaming still, were unable to speak for several minutes. Then Caitlin managed to shout, “Casey, Maryanne… I don’t think we were supposed to read that thing!”
Maryanne was just as confused as Mrs. Wells.
“Why do you say that? What happened, Caitlin?”
Sarah pointed in the direction of Caitlin and Casey’s bedroom.
Mrs. Wells tried to calm the girls down and ask them what was wrong as Maryanne, followed closely by a shaking Casey, left the bathroom and cautiously approached the bedroom. The floor seemed to creak under their every step.
It was certainly silent in the bedroom. Maryanne peaked around the doorway into the room.
She screamed and ran back to the bathroom.
Casey, who watched Maryanne ran passed her in the hall, clutched her doll close to her and stepped into the bedroom.
And then she saw it. There was no overlooking it.
Crouching motionlessly and silently on the very top of the armoire in the far corner of the room, beyond the bunk beds and the dollhouse, was a little man. He was only several feet tall and had scaly skin as blue as the deepest, coldest ocean. Two, gray horns stuck out on of either side of his round head. His eyes were what really frightened Casey. They were round like quarters, and about the size of them too. They were totally and completely black.
Casey finally broke her gaze away from the little, blue man and looked at the chalk-like, white line that had appeared on the hardwood floor in a radius of several feet around where the little man sat on the armoire.
Casey’s fear was beyond tears or screams. She simply turned around, walked out of the room and halfway back down the hall. But she couldn’t go any further. She fainted.

Chapter 3
“Casey? Casey, can you hear me, honey? I think she’s waking up.”
Casey rubbed her eyes and her back, which a sharp pain seared through.
“Open your eyes, Casey.” said her mother’s soothing voice.
She obeyed. She was sitting on her mother’s lap on the swinging bench outside on the front porch. It was late afternoon and the rain had finally stopped.
“I had a funny dream,” Casey said. “It was more of a nightmare.”
The scared look on her mother’s face told her that it was not a dream.
Looking around, Casey saw Caitlin standing on the front steps with a frown on her face. Caitlin glanced at Casey momentarily, then nodded at something in the distance.
Their house had a large yard to the left that was acres and acres of flat land. Caitlin was looking at the single tree a ways off. At first, Casey did not understand. Then she saw another little, blue man sitting on a branch like the one in their bedroom. He was slightly bigger than the other man. The chalk-like line that had appeared around the tree was drawn into the grass.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you girls!” Mrs. Wells said suddenly. She forced Casey to her feet and led her inside. “How dare you all scare me like that? And for nothing! You must have been telling ghost stories again, Caitlin, weren’t you?”
Caitlin did not protest. She took Casey by the hand and walked her up the stairs. She stopped on the landing and kneeled down in front of her sister.
“I don’t know what that line is or who those little men are,” Caitlin whispered. “But I know that only me, you, Maryanne and Sarah can see them. While you were passed out, Mom called the other girls’ parents and none of them can see what the four of us see. But it’s there, it’s really there. Don’t bother trying to convince Mom, because she just won’t be able to see it.”
“Why is this happening?”
“I don’t know. Maryanne and Sarah called while you were passed out. They were really upset because there are lines and those men in their bedrooms too. We really shouldn’t have read that paper in the book we found in the attic. I feel like this all has something to do with that weird book. I don’t understand why Elizabeth had it. But promise me something, Casey. No matter what you do, no matter what the other girls say or do, and no matter what happens to any of us, you cannot cross those lines. Stay away from them.”
“I promise.”

Chapter 4
The sisters slept in the living room that night. Their mother didn’t want them to but their father consented when he got home from work that night. He said that there was no harm in letting them sleep where they wanted to.
By the next morning, Mrs. Wells had convinced herself that her daughters were playing some sort of joke on her and that it was all pretend. Mr. Wells, who had not heard his daughters scream and cry, thought nothing of it and forgot about it.
Maryanne and Sarah were allowed to come over again. The four girls, however, refused to go into the bedroom. Even Caitlin had not been back in there. They sat on the swinging bench on the front porch, watching the man in the tree.
“He has horns,” Caitlin said. “Do you see them?”
“Yeah,” Maryanne said, straining her eyes. “And why is he just sitting there?”
“It’s like he’s guarding something!” Sarah said wisely, though there was a note of panic in her voice.
“Have we been cursed?” Casey asked.
“It seems like we have,” Sarah answered. “Why else would this only have happened to us?”
A scary thought suddenly occurred to Caitlin. Her stomach lurched. “We aren’t the only ones.” she said. “Elizabeth had the book. She translated those words, she must have read them aloud too.”
A tear rolled down Casey’s cheek. “Did that little man kill Elizabeth?”
Caitlin studied the tree for a moment. Then she said, “I don’t know. Why isn’t the man coming after us right now? They’ve all just been sitting within the lines.”
The girls eventually went inside the house. Mrs. Wells went to the store and Caitlin went to take a bath. Maryanne was watching television. Sarah and Casey were trying to get their minds off their worries for a little while and decided to play a game like they used to when they were much younger.
Sarah stood on a chair in the kitchen and held up a hairbrush to use as a microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!” Sarah said enthusiastically, making Casey giggle. “May I present to you the winner of both the best smile and the best laugh award - Casey Wells!”
Casey laughed all the way up to where Sarah stood on the chair. She took the hairbrush and stood on a chair beside her friend.
“Thanks, Sarah. Since you’ve always been such a great friend… will you cross the line with me?”
Sarah’s smile faded, as did Casey’s. They stepped down from the chairs. Without a word, Sarah reached out and took Casey’s hand and led her out of the kitchen, passed Maryanne in the living room, and up the stairs.
Sarah pushed open the bedroom door. It was slightly dark in the room, as the shades were closed, but some light from the hallway shone in. There was no mistaking the little, blue man sitting quietly on the top of the armoire in the far corner. The chalk-like line on the floor was visible. Sarah guided Casey up to the line and stopped just as she reached it. The little man was watching them with his black eyes.
Sarah put one foot out to step forward but cried out as a hand pulled her forcefully back.
“What on earth are you doing in here?!” Caitlin yelled, dragging the girls out of the room and closing the door behind them. Her hair was dripping wet and she was holding up a towel around her; she had clearly just gotten out of the bath.
“Curiosity…” Sarah mumbled.
“Yes, well, curiosity may have killed Elizabeth. I hope you realize that.”
Sarah looked down at her feet.
“Casey, why would you do that?” Caitlin yelled. “You don’t know what could happen! And you promised me…”
Maryanne, hearing all the fuss, came bolting up the stairs.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Casey and Sarah were about to step over the line, but I caught them just in time.”
Maryanne looked at the other girls. “Caitlin, you mustn’t be angry. I think we’re all really wondering what might happen if we--”
But Caitlin pushed by her angrily and returned to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Chapter 5
Maryanne’s parents loved their only daughter very much. After dealing with her four older brothers, they liked to baby Maryanne and let her get away with things that parents ordinarily wouldn’t overlook.
Maryanne and her family lived in one of the largest and most beautiful houses in the whole town. Her father was a surgeon and her mother was a well-known business owner. Her parents had given Maryanne the second-largest bedroom, after theirs. The walls were painted pink and the bedspread and quilt had been specially embroidered with Maryanne’s name.
Maryanne’s bedroom was so wonderful that her parents were horrified when Maryanne refused two days and nights in a row to go in there at all, claiming to see something that they most certainly could not. Clearly, their daughter was going insane.
Maryanne’s mother called her into the kitchen and she came right away. Her father was standing beside her mother, looking worried.
“Maryanne,” her mother said. “We need to talk to you.”
She paused. Maryanne didn’t say anything.
Her father said, “Have your hallucinations stopped?”
Maryanne was taken-aback. “Hallucinations? I’m not having hallucinations!”
“Then how else do you explain what’s going on with you and your friends? Your imagination has gone a step too far, Maryanne.”
Her mother knelt down before her. “Please go upstairs and bring me down the red sweater your brother sent to you for Christmas.”
Maryanne fidgeted. She knew that her mother was trying to get her to go into her bedroom. The sweater was in the armoire that the little blue man sat on top of.
Maryanne protested for a very long time in the kitchen with her parents. But in the end, she lost. Her father angrily threatened this and that and Maryanne gave in. Tears swelling in her eyes and her hands shaking, she headed up the staircase.

Chapter 6
The church in town was only a few blocks from Caitlin and Casey’s house. After having a horrible nightmare about the little blue man and the line, Caitlin snuck out of the house that evening and walked to the church. It was an hour after mass, so no one was around but the doors were unlocked.
Caitlin went inside, looking around. The church was rather plain. She knelt kneeled to the altar and took a seat near the front. A door opened to her left and startled her.
“Don’t worry, dear,” said the Priest who emerged, though he looked quite pale and out of breath. “It’s just me.” He limped over to where Caitlin sat and took a seat beside her on the pew.
“Is there something I can help you with?” he asked.
Caitlin looked up at the bold figure of Jesus behind the altar. “I don’t know if even you will understand, Father.”
The Priest surveyed her. Then he said, “How old are you?”
“Eleven. I’ll be twelve in two months.” Caitlin answered.
The Priest nodded. “Now tell me what’s wrong. I’ve heard everything before.”
Caitlin was unsure that the Priest would have ever heard anything quite like her story. She cleared her throat and said, “I think my sister, two of my friends and I are cursed.”
The Priest shifted in his seat and grew paler. “Can you tell me more?” he asked.
“Well, we read an English translation of a really strange book we found. It was a jumble of unrelated words, it was really strange…”
The Priest grabbed his heart and leaned back in his seat.
“Father, are you alright?” Caitlin asked, concerned.
“Child,” the Priest said. “where did you find that book?”
“My older sister used to have it. We found it in the attic.”
The Priest rubbed his eyes, looked around the church as if to check that they were alone, and leaned forward. “Was your sister’s name Elizabeth Wells?”

Chapter 7
Maryanne was shaking uncontrollably when she turned the doorknob and entered her bedroom. She flicked on the lights. The room was completely normal except for the fact that there was a chalk-like line drawn on the floor around the armoire and a little blue man crouched atop it, watching her keenly with hid eerie black eyes.
Maryanne, being an intelligent girl, tried to figure out how to reach into the armoire and pull out the sweater without technically stepping over the strange line. Believing it possible because there was only several feet between the line and the left side of the armoire, she took several minutes to cautiously make her way toward the line, never taking her eyes off the armoire and the little blue man.
And now you see her fault. Looking too far up and beyond sometimes makes it difficult what’s right in front of us - literally.
Maryanne suddenly walked into something on the floor of the bedroom, twisting her right ankle quite painfully and falling forward. Maryanne’s heart beat faster than ever as she landed on her face, wincing.
She sat up, a tear silently rolling down her cheek. Then she realized that her back was to the armoire and her feet, which pointed to the door, was clearly over the line on the floor.

“Father,” Caitlin was saying. “Did my sister come to talk to you about the line and the book and everything? Was she cursed too? Is that how she died?”
The Priest, still clutching his heart, nodded at her questions.
“Do you know what it is? Do you know what the line is, Father?”
“Yes,” he said to her. “It is called the Hezma Line. It is a legend that Judas wrote that book during the time of Jesus and he somehow cursed all those who read its words out loud. To step over the line, not knowing what will become of you, represents the awful temptations in life - temptations that can lead you away from God if you take the wrong path. The Hezma Line is guarded carefully by a demon that can take your soul away. Your soul will venture to Hell and back again, all very quickly. I do not know what horrors may be bestowed upon souls in Hell, but when the soul returns to your body on earth, it will not be able to take anymore and the person will have no choice but to stop living. I told all this to your sister, Elizabeth when she came to see me the day that she died.”
Caitlin froze. “She came to see you the day she died?”
“Yes, in the morning, I remember it well. I told her all I knew about it at the time. But now I know more. I know how to get rid of the Hezma Line and the Guardian Demon for good. Child, you must cross the Line to get rid of it. There is no other way. But if you cross the Line bearing solid proof of your belief in God and your religion, your soul can survive Hell and you shall live on.”
A moment passed while Caitlin thought hard.
“Child,” the Priest said, “please be careful. This curse killed your sister and if you are not careful, you and your friends may be killed as well.”

One moment the little blue man (the Guardian Demon) was atop the armoire, but he next moment he was beside Maryanne on the floor. His black-hole-of-a-mouth was opening slowly and she could not look away from his eyes. He reached out a scaly hand and touched her shoulder. Feeling rooted to the spot, Maryanne suddenly had the sensation of being doused in horrifically cold ice water, perhaps colder than anything she had ever felt before.

Chapter 8
Caitlin, Casey and Sarah sat on the front steps of the house. During the summer, it was their tradition to meet there everyday at ten o’clock, but it was almost eleven and Maryanne hadn’t arrived yet.
Casey, who was hugging her doll tightly and keeping one eye on the Guardian Demon sitting in the tree, said, “Where could she be? This isn’t like her to be so late.”
“And I have such important news to tell everyone and I’d rather only have to say it once.” Caitlin said.
Sarah and Casey looked at her. “What?” Sarah said. “Is it about what I think it’s about?”
But Caitlin wouldn’t say anything else until Maryanne showed up. They waited in vain.
They eventually had lunch without her on the front porch. They had just finished their grilled cheese sandwiches when Mrs. Wells came outside looking grave.
“Girls,” she whispered sorrowfully, reaching out to hold their hands. “I have terrible news.”

If ever there is an event that someone should not have to attend in their lifetime, it is the funeral of a young child.
Three days after the girls were told of the awful news, Maryanne was laid to rest following the closed-casket funeral at the local cemetery beside the church. As her coffin was lowered six feet into the ground, her friends stood solemnly in the front row, watching and sobbing. Casey held her doll close to her as usual and Sarah was absent-mindedly playing with the sleeve of her dress.
Caitlin stopped crying long enough to look away from the casket and Maryanne’s parents. She squinted her eyes at the very top of a distant hill in the cemetery where she thought she saw a person dressed in blue. The person was sitting on a tombstone, bent over to cover his face and rocking back and forth where he sat. With a stab of realization, she tugged on Sarah’s arm and pointed to the hill.
Sarah’s face turned as white as a ghost.
“It’s one of them,” Sarah murmured, shakily. “What is it doing?”
Caitlin put her hands over her face to stop herself from staring. “I think it’s laughing.”

Chapter 9
The day after the funeral, the girls met up on Caitlin’s porch. Sarah was carrying a pillowcase full of noisy things that chimed when they clinked together. Caitlin and Casey each had rosaries wrapped about their wrists and necks. Casey held on tight to her doll.
“What’s in the bag?” Caitlin asked.
Sarah emptied the bag onto the floor. A number of crucifixes varying in size poured out, as well as pictures of the girls, with Maryanne, and pictures of Sarah with her family at church for Sunday mass. Sarah pulled out the last, heaviest thing in the bag.
“Can’t forget this,” she said brandishing the Bible.
The girls grew quiet. They looked at one another, at the objects they had gathered. Caitlin was a good actress when it came to concealing her fear; she spoke with a steady voice despite never having been more frightened in her entire life.
“Here’s the plan,” she said. “I’m going to cross the Line up in our bedroom. Sarah, you’ll have to do the one in your house. Can you do that?”
Sarah nodded silently.
“Good. I know you can do it, Sarah. Be strong.”
Casey glared at the tree not far from the porch where the Guardian sat, watching them. “What about that one by the tree?”
“That Guardian is by far the biggest of all of them. And by the looks of it, the Line itself is growing, spreading out, taking up more space around the tree. Sarah, you and I will have to do it together. There’s no way one of us could possibly do that one alone.”
Casey looked scandalized. “What about me? I can help, too, you know!”
Caitlin shook her head and said firmly, “No, absolutely not. You stay inside, away from all the Hezma Lines, okay? This curse got one of my sisters, it’s not taking another one.”
“Caitlin,” Sarah said after a moment. “Caitlin, are you sure this is going to work? We’re not crossing the Lines in vein, are we?”
“A Priest told me, Sarah. Do you really think he’d lie in the House of God? He says cross the Line to get rid of it. We’ll make it back if we go to Hell bearing signs that we believe in God and our faith.”
Sarah shrugged and shifted uncomfortably. She gave Caitlin and Casey a few of the things from the bag and put the rest away, preparing to leave. She turned to leave.
“And Sarah!” called Casey. “We love you.”
“I love you guys, too.”

Chapter 10
Casey sat on the living room couch. Her father was fast asleep next to her, having returned from a long, stressful day at work. Her mother was out at the store, where they were having an end-of-the-season sale. Her sister was in her bedroom trying to get rid of a demon and a chalk-like line drawn on the floor…
She sighed, holding her doll as tight as ever. Then she got up and wandered to the window. The first thing she saw was the little man sitting in the tree…

Caitlin had the rosaries wrapped around her neck and wrists. She gripped the Bible firmly in one hand and a picture of her sisters Elizabeth and Casey in the other. Seeing her sisters’ smiling, happy faces gave her the courage: she pushed open the bedroom door. Every step towards the Hezma Line took strength out of her. It was taking a great amount of will not to cry and scream. But she made it to the Line and stepped over it.
One moment the little blue man, the Guardian, was atop the armoire, but he next moment he was crouched right beside Caitlin. His black-hole-of-a-mouth was opening slowly and she could not look away from his eyes. He reached out a scaly hand and touched her shoulder. Feeling rooted to the spot, Caitlin suddenly had the sensation of being doused in horrifically cold ice water, perhaps colder than anything she had ever felt before.
And then the cold was gone. She was in the hallway of her own house, but it was dark and gloomy, unlike the midday sunshine she had just left.
But it was a strange feeling. Caitlin didn’t understand it, but she knew that she had experienced this moment before. It was as if she was watching her own memory through a television screen, pulled right up to her eyes.
Then the strangest thing came into view: herself. Caitlin watched herself walk down the hallway casually, playing with her hair. But the hair was a lot longer and the clothes she wore were clothes that no longer fit her.
Caitlin watched her younger self knock on a door and call out, “Elizabeth? Dinner’s ready.”
She listened for an answer but all she heard were sobs from the other side of the door.
“Elizabeth?”
The younger Caitlin opened the door and went into the bedroom. Elizabeth was sitting in a corner of the room bunched up in a little ball. Her hair was a complete mess and her face was red from crying.
“What’s wrong?” the younger Caitlin asked.
Elizabeth did not respond with words. She merely held out a hand to her sister. Caitlin took her hand and went to sit beside her.
But then the older Caitlin saw something that she had not seen the first time around: her sister’s dilated pupils of her beautiful, dark brown eyes reflected a squat figure sitting atop the armoire.
It was the last time Caitlin had seen Elizabeth alive.
But then suddenly everything changed. It was bright again. Caitlin found herself spread-eagle on her back on the bedroom floor. Straightening up, her heart leapt to see that the chalk-like line on the floor and the Guardian had completely disappeared.
But then Caitlin’s heart fell again as she looked out the window down at the yard and saw Casey approaching the tree with nothing in her arms but the doll she had named Elizabeth. Caitlin jetted out the door and down the stairs, praying in her mind that her father would not wake up and that Casey would not had crossed the Line by the time she reached her.
Caitlin was running full speed at the tree from the house at the same time that Sarah was running toward the tree from the street. But they were both too late: Casey had crossed the Line.

Chapter 11
She had heard her sister and her friend calling her name, but ignored them. One moment the little blue man, the Guardian, was atop the armoire, but he next moment he was crouched right beside Caitlin. His black-hole-of-a-mouth was opening slowly and she could not look away from his eyes. He reached out a scaly hand and touched her shoulder. Feeling rooted to the spot, Caitlin suddenly had the sensation of being doused in horrifically cold ice water, perhaps colder than anything she had ever felt before.
And now she saw neither of them, nor the tree, nor the blue sky; she only saw pews and an ornately painted carved ceiling of a church.
Casey was experiencing the same strange thing as Caitlin. Casey didn’t understand it, but she knew that this moment had happened in the past. It was as if she was watching a scene from someone’s life through a television screen, pulled right up to her eyes.
Her sister Elizabeth sat a few feet away from a Priest, the same Priest that Caitlin had spoken to. They were speaking in whispers.
“…no other way.” the Priest was saying. “But if you cross the Hezma Line bearing solid proof of your belief in God and your faith, your soul can survive Hell and you shall live on.”
Elizabeth nodded fervently. “Thank you, Father.” And she stood and left.
A few moments passed. Then the door to the Priest’s right opened and a man appeared. The man frightened Casey very much. He was hooded and dressed in all black clothing. All that could be seen of his face were his menacing, red eyes that glowed mysteriously.
The Priest stood but looked horrified to see the man.
“Good job,” the strange man grunted in a low voice. “Very convincing with the ‘bearing solid proof of your belief in God and your faith’ thing… How humorous of you.”
The Priest started to shake violently on the spot as the hooded man walked leisurely towards him.
“And,” the man continued. “She believed every word you said. Obviously, she has no idea that you need proof of love, not just specifically religion. But what is love anyway? She’d probably mess it up.”
The Priest stepped forward suddenly to speak, but the image faded from sight and Casey found herself lying spread-eagle on the green grass, shaded from the sun by the tree. Caitlin and Sarah were bent over her, calling her name. Caitlin had clearly been crying.
“I saw her,” Casey said, sitting up quickly. “ I saw Elizabeth.”
“Me too,” Caitlin said. “Right before she died.”
“And I saw Maryanne,” Sarah added. “Right before she died.”