The Awakening Evil Read online

  But she suspected the worst.

  Using Jane’s body, Sarah had killed Thomas.

  What would Sarah make Jane do to Mrs. Teasedale?

  Phillip pulled the carriage up in front of Mrs. Teasedale’s mansion. He jumped down and hurried around to open the carriage door for Jane. He reached out his hand to help her down the short flight of steps to the ground.

  “Mrs. Fear?” Phillip said.

  She turned. Can he feel it? she wondered. Can he sense the change in me?

  “I just wanted to say,” Phillip began shyly, “that I am very happy about your recovery.”

  Jane blinked. “Thank you, Phillip,” she mumbled.

  She wanted to hug him.

  Phillip knew the old Jane. Knew her and cared about her.

  If only she could be the person he thought she was!

  From the outside it looked as if she had made a total recovery.

  No one would hear or see the evil that had awakened deep inside her.

  And that made her dangerous. That made her deadly.

  Jane found Mrs. Teasedale resting in her backyard. She sat beside her bubbling stone fountain with its statue of Cupid. She appeared to be enjoying the sunshine.

  Not far away, a maid hung wash on a clothesline strung between two weeping willows. The white sheets fluttered gaily in the spring breeze. Insects buzzed. Birds chirped.

  It was a beautiful scene. So calm. So peaceful.

  Except for what is inside me, Jane thought.

  Jane quietly made her way over to Mrs. Teasedale’s side. She cast a dark shadow over the woman’s wrinkled face.

  Mrs. Teasedale opened her eyes. She gasped in amazement.

  “Oh, my dear,” Mrs. Teasedale exclaimed. “I must admit I never thought I’d see you out and about. I came to visit you on your sickbed. Your fever was so high. You didn’t even know who I was.”

  She stood. Her arms opened wide and Jane submitted awkwardly to the old woman’s hug.

  “Yes, I was quite ill,” Jane answered. Her voice sounded surprisingly calm.

  “Are you sure it’s all right for you to be outside?” Mrs. Teasedale asked. She gave a worried frown. “You don’t want to rush things, as sick as you’ve been. But what am I saying? Look at you. You’re the picture of health!”

  She rang a bell that sat on the glass-topped table next to her wicker chair. A servant hurried across the lawn. “Bring Mrs. Fear a chair at once,” she instructed. “And a glass of sweet tea.”

  It was warm in the bright sun. Jane removed her heavy red cloak. The servant hurried back across the lawn with a chair. He placed it next to Jane. Another servant set two glasses of tea on the little table.

  Jane sat down across from Mrs. Teasedale. Mrs. Teasedale beamed at her. “I just can’t get over it. You’re like a new person.”

  How true that is, Jane thought. Her stomach twisted itself into knots. What does Sarah have planned for Mrs. Teasedale?

  “I was so sorry about Thomas’s passing,” Mrs. Teasedale told her. “I feel terribly ashamed for everything I said to you that day. I should not have repeated those stories about the Fears.”

  “It is not your fault,” Jane said carefully. “Everyone in town believes those same stories.”

  Liza Teasedale shook her head. “That is no excuse. But my darling, I can’t tell you how marvelous you look! It is simply miraculous.”

  Jane suddenly stiffened.

  She could feel the evil spirit awakening inside her. Stretching. Fitting its shape into her body. Arm into arm and leg into leg. As if Sarah were wearing her, putting on her body like a piece of clothing.

  She must die, Sarah whispered inside Jane’s head.

  Die? Liza Teasedale?

  Jane gasped.

  “Are you all right?” Mrs. Teasedale cried, alarmed.

  “I—I think I am—”

  You heard me, Jane. Now. Kill her, Sarah ordered.

  But why? Jane wondered. What harm did this lady ever do to you?

  Oh, it’s not for me. It’s for you. Because you want her to suffer so, Sarah told her.

  Jane realized she could talk to Sarah without speaking out loud. Sarah could hear her, just as Jane could hear Sarah.

  I don’t want her to suffer, Jane cried.

  Of course you do. I am only doing your bidding, Sarah insisted. I have only been doing your bidding all along. You hated Thomas from the beginning. You wanted him dead and out of your life so you could enjoy his wealth without him. So I killed him.

  That is a sick and desperate lie! Jane protested.

  Oh, now don’t pretend. You hated Thomas and you hate Mrs. Teasedale, Sarah said.

  I don’t. Please don’t hurt her, Sarah. Please, Jane begged.

  Of course you do, Sarah said. Jane could hear the smile in her voice. You hate the way she tried to frighten you about Thomas and his family. And now she must pay—with her life!

  “No!” Jane cried.

  “No what, dearest?” Mrs. Teasedale said, looking confused.

  Jane realized she had spoken aloud. “You must forgive me,” she said. “This is my first day up and about. I get confused rather easily.”

  “Of course, child. That is why I wondered if you should have visited so soon,” Mrs. Teasedale told her.

  “If it is all right with you, I will come back another time,” she said. She rose from her chair.

  I will get away, Jane thought. Fast. Before I can harm the poor old lady, I will get away.

  Where? Where can you go? Sarah asked.

  Far away. Far away from anyone I know or care about. Anyone I might hurt, Jane answered.

  She heard a distant roaring in her head. The roar grew louder.

  Mrs. Teasedale did treat me badly, Jane thought suddenly. That day. That tea party. When Mrs. Teasedale accused the Fears of being evil. Didn’t she know how much that would frighten me? It was cruel of her.

  Laughter mixed with the roaring sound in Jane’s head.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Mrs. Teasedale asked.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine. I just wanted to say thank you again for all your good wishes when I was sick. I will come back soon,” Jane promised.

  I’ve got to get away. Now. Before it’s too late, Jane thought.

  “Perhaps you should rest a moment,” Mrs. Teasedale said. She sounded worried.

  “No, no, Mrs. Teasedale. I assure you, I am fine,” Jane said.

  It was hard to see. There were bright spots in front of her eyes. And the roaring was so loud. It blocked out all other sound.

  She was vaguely aware that she was kissing the old woman on the cheek. Murmuring her good-byes. What was she saying?

  Jane picked up her cloak. She hurriedly crossed the lawn. She felt unsteady on her feet.

  Saying the Fears were cursed. Saying evil followed them.

  Those foul rumors.

  Rumors that had made Jane mistrust Thomas. That made her think the worst of him.

  If it wasn’t for old gossips like Liza Teasedale, Jane would have been closer to Thomas all along.

  None of this would have happened.

  But that made no sense. What was she thinking?

  And where was she going?

  Jane wanted to return to the front of the house, to Phillip and her carriage.

  But she seemed to have circled back across the lawn.

  She snuck into the house.

  No one saw her.

  So simple.

  The roaring suddenly stopped.

  She was thinking clearly now.

  Moving carefully, quickly. Her footsteps felt light and soundless.

  She darted into the kitchen.

  She pulled a long, silver knife from the kitchen drawer.

  Dark red blood gushed inside her head, falling down before her eyes in a slow-motion waterfall.

  The sight of the blood had jarred her back to her senses, as if she were awakening from a long, deep sleep.

  “No!” she said aloud.
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  “Is that you, Isabelle?” a woman called from the pantry.

  Jane didn’t answer.

  The roaring began again.

  The blood rushed past her eyes, making it hard for her to see.

  She blinked. But the blood kept coming.

  Because it’s on the inside of my head, Jane thought.

  Jane hurried out of the kitchen. Where was she going now? What was she going to do with the knife?

  Inside her brain, Sarah laughed. Don’t worry, Jane. We won’t stab her. You have my word.

  Jane slipped back outside into the glare of the bright spring sun.

  The maid who had been hanging out the laundry had gone inside. The large, billowing white sheets hid Jane as she hacked down the clothesline with her knife.

  Her arms felt so strong and powerful. It was a wonderful feeling. She felt strong enough to lift the entire planet Earth and spin it on her finger.

  She quickly cut off a piece of the rope. A piece about two feet long.

  She slipped the knife into her pocket. Coiled the rope around her left hand with a few quick snaps of her wrists.

  Holding the rope behind her back, she marched across the lawn toward Mrs. Teasedale.

  She had never felt so wonderful in her entire life. Never felt such a strong sense of purpose.

  Mrs. Teasedale opened her eyes and sat up straight as she approached.

  “Did you forget something, child?” she asked with a surprised look on her face.

  Jane didn’t answer. She darted behind Mrs. Teasedale.

  Then she wrapped the clothesline around Mrs. Teasedale’s neck. And began to pull.

  Chapter

  16

  Mrs. Teasedale’s hands flew to her neck. She clawed at the clothesline.

  A thin line of bright red blood appeared on Mrs. Teasedale’s neck.

  Jane yanked on the ends of the clothesline.

  The rope disappeared underneath Mrs. Teasedale’s skin.

  Jane watched as the blood flowed out in a perfect ring.

  Snap!

  Mrs. Teasedale’s neck broke.

  Plop!

  Mrs. Teasedale’s head landed on the back lawn.

  Jane stumbled to her feet. She felt something drain away inside her, as if all her own blood had just flooded out onto the green grass.

  She was Jane again. Jane Hardy. Herself.

  Those thoughts. Those horrible thoughts she had been thinking. They belonged to Sarah, not her.

  Jane stared down. At her feet lay a harmless old woman.

  Dead. Dead by Jane’s own hands.

  Jane bowed her head. Oh, no.

  Oh, yes, Sarah answered.

  Jane began to weep.

  Stop blubbering and get to work, Sarah demanded.

  What now? Jane thought.

  Sarah did not answer.

  Jane’s body jerked. Sarah has control again, she realized.

  Sarah forced Jane to drag the old woman’s body behind a tall hedge.

  Apparently, Sarah wanted to delay the discovery of Mrs. Teasedale’s murder.

  But why?

  Because we’re not finished yet, Sarah told her merrily.

  Jane began to retch.

  It had to stop. There had to be a way to make this horror end.

  No! Jane pleaded. She wrapped her arms around herself.

  But it was no use. Sarah shoved her across the lawn.

  Jane picked up her cloak, which she had dropped by the clothesline.

  Good thing you didn’t wear it. Sarah chuckled.

  Jane looked down. She understood what Sarah meant. Mrs. Teasedale’s blood had splattered the front of her dress. The cloak would hide all that.

  Where are we going now? Jane wondered.

  She got her answer only after she had climbed back into her carriage.

  “Leaving so soon?” Phillip asked.

  Jane only nodded.

  Phillip looked at her strangely. “Everything all right, ma’am?”

  She nodded again. She was afraid to open her mouth. Who knew what she would say?

  “Where to?” Phillip asked at last.

  “Take me to my husband’s mill,” she told Phillip in a hoarse voice.

  A voice she now knew was not her own.

  Sarah’s voice.

  The mill?

  Why were they going to the mill?

  Phillip hesitated.

  “You heard me,” she said crossly. “Take me there at once!”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I hurt his feelings, Jane thought. But I can’t help that, I have more important things to worry about.

  Phillip is lucky. I only insulted him.

  She shuddered when she thought of Mrs. Teasedale’s head rolling away from her body.

  At least I didn’t kill Phillip, Jane thought.

  Yet, Sarah replied.

  Jane shut her eyes.

  Sarah laughed. Don’t worry, I don’t intend to kill Phillip. Why should I?

  Why should you kill anyone? Jane asked.

  Oh, don’t sound so glum. You enjoyed that last kill more than I did, Sarah told her.

  Jane didn’t have the strength to argue. And what was the point?

  Sarah was only toying with her.

  No, Jane thought. It isn’t Sarah inside me. Whatever is there isn’t even human. It is pure evil.

  Jane stuck her tongue out as far as she could.

  She began to gag.

  I don’t like being called names, the evil spirit told her.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  There was no one outside the mill today. The door stood ajar.

  But there must be someone inside. Someone that Sarah wanted to—

  Let’s go, the evil spirit ordered.

  Jane tried to drag her footsteps. But the evil spirit pushed her forward.

  She entered the mill. Closed the door behind her.

  Everything reminded her of Thomas’s accident. The smell of new-mown hay. The grainy dust filling the air. The large stone wheels grinding against each other, slowly turning.

  Jane pictured the water in the well bubbling and churning.

  Heard poor Thomas’s helpless cries.

  So horrible.

  Yes. Wasn’t it beautiful? the evil spirit asked.

  I hate you, Jane told her.

  Do I need to remind you how uncomfortable I can make it inside your own skin? Sarah asked.

  You can torture me all you like. I am dead anyway, Jane said.

  Oh, now, don’t say that, Jane. Because I am really and truly dead, you see, Sarah answered. You don’t know what it’s like. Don’t make me teach you a very nasty lesson.

  Inside Jane’s mouth a tooth began to wiggle back and forth, pulled by invisible fingers.

  Jane twisted her head to the left and right. But she couldn’t get away, couldn’t shake the fingers’ viselike grip.

  Back and forth, back and forth.

  The tooth was growing looser and looser.

  With a terrible sucking sound, the tooth popped free.

  Jane let out a yelp of pain. She spat the tooth on the dusty ground. She tasted the blood that flowed freely in her mouth.

  She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Then she gazed around the mill.

  Maybe no one is here, Jane thought. Thomas had once told her that they left the mill open and running so that farmers could bring grain and grind it themselves when the foreman wasn’t here.

  Oh, please be deserted, she prayed.

  If there was no one around, then there was no one she could harm.

  Take off your cloak, Sarah ordered.

  Jane did as she was told. She shivered. Perhaps the evil spirit had chosen this place for her death.

  She felt a terrible stab of fear.

  And yet death would be a relief, as well.

  When she was dead, she would no longer be a threat to others.

  No one else would be harmed at her hands.

  Yes! Let her kill me then! Jane thoug
ht.

  I told you, that isn’t going to happen. I have plans for you, Sarah said.

  A hand touched Jane on the shoulder. She spun around. And saw the foreman standing there. A short, squat man with bright red hair and muscular arms.

  He looked surprised to see her. And worried.

  “Mrs. Fear?” he asked. His gaze was locked on her bloodstained dress. “Are you all right, Mrs. Fear?”

  “I had a little accident,” Jane said. She cackled.

  No, Jane yelled at herself. She had to maintain control. She couldn’t let Sarah take over.

  “Do you need a doctor?” the foreman asked. He sounded alarmed.

  Jane wanted to warn him. She wanted to scream at him to get away from her as fast as he could.

  But she couldn’t force her lips to form the words.

  Her mouth twisted in a horrible grin. “I am fine!” She shrieked with laughter.

  The foreman gulped. “Mrs. Fear? I am sorry, ma’am. Terribly sorry. About your husband’s death. I heard how sick you were from it. I was sick afterward, myself. I only came back here today for the first time. I—I wanted to make sure things were running smoothly. If you want me to resign, I will. If you want me to stay on, I will do that as well. It’s entirely up to you, ma’am. I couldn’t feel worse about what happened—”

  “You are sorry?” Jane cried, her voice hoarse. “You were the one who caused him to die, Mr. Taft!”

  Mr. Taft’s eyes opened wide. She could tell he was frightened.

  Such a weasel.

  Such a snivelling fool.

  Afraid of a woman. Him with those strong arms.

  He pushed Thomas into the well. Pushed him on his way to the grave.

  But now he’s up against true strength.

  “It was an accident, Mrs. Fear. You saw what happened. We were arguing, yes. But I never meant to lay a finger on Mr. Fear. I always thought the world of your husband, ma’am. He treated me and the other workers fine. Keeping this mill open even though it was losing money and—”

  The foreman was talking faster and faster. Practically blubbering.

  “You pushed my husband into the boiling water, Mr. Taft! If it were not for you, Thomas would still be alive! True or false?” Jane demanded.

  The foreman opened his mouth, then shut it. He didn’t answer.

  “True or false?” Jane shrieked. “You caused his death!”

  The foreman had turned white as flour. “But now, Mrs. Fear, you saw how I tried to pull him out. You were there. You saw that I—”