Jack Coffin wept when I returned his son to him.
I was surprised to discover that, according to the flow of time outside Gods’ Hollow, I had been away for less than a day.
The other boys I had left at the farm, guarded by the ravens and the Gallows god. I was not worried for their safety. I had seen them fight, and I knew what the ravens and the god were capable of.
I went and stood outside the stonewall which surrounds Gods’ Hollow. There was no sign of the fire that I had lit. No hint of the church, which had been the source of all the trouble.
From my pocket, I retrieved a small journal I had stolen from my mother’s chamber. Opening it, I began to read.
‘Duncan, I trust you have taken this. It is with some regret that I am writing this. I am dead, of course, and I doubt you have taken much comfort in it. So, allow me to strip away what little comfort you have managed to obtain from my demise and, undoubtedly, the destruction of my home. In the following pages, you will find dates and times. Each of these represents another version of myself I have met. Should you find a star next to the date, it means she succeeded in killing you. Enjoy your reading, Duncan, and the knowledge that there are so many more of me to meet.
My hands trembled with rage as I turned the page and saw the list of dates. Page after page, almost until the end of the journal, was filled with dates. Some had stars. Others did not.
The stars didn’t matter, though.
Whatever version of my mother I met, I’d kill her.
I closed the book and smiled. Here I thought I’d only the one opportunity to kill her, and it had gone by so quickly.
That, I realized, was not the case.
I took my pipe from my pocket, lit the tobacco, and walked home. It was time to take the boys into Boston and get them fitted for some proper clothes.
They would, I hoped, have long lives ahead of them.
Perhaps some of them might even help me hunt my mothers down.
#horror #monsters #supernatural #death