The Burning Tree

By Brandi Sparkman

The Devil's Coven, as they called themselves, took the blood of their kills and poured the remains, bones, innards and all, over the roots of a tree deep in the heart of the forest.
Rumor had it, the tree grew so poisoned with evil, it took on a demonic personality of its own and lured unsuspecting victims who ventured into the forest to their doom.
Before she died, Agatha cursed the line of Solomon Kayne, swearing she would drive them all into such deep madness, they would either take their own life or die from the strain.
As time went on, the people of New Castle forgot about the macabre findings. The town built up; its modernization burying the evil beneath the tides of history...
Ridiculous superstition. Megan thought to herself. Nothing but myth.
She would soon find out, however, that nothing could be more true.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trellis Publishing
• Release date: Jul 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201908232

Book preview

THE BLEEDING TREE

BRANDI SPARKMAN

TABLE OF CONTENTS

THE BLEEDING TREE

BROKEN GLASS

SCALPED

FRANKIE

THE LAST VICTIM

COMPULSION

The Bleeding Tree

It's easy for humans to accept the lies that their family is clear of dark and bloody secrets. Every day, we get flooded with news of brutal murders committed by heartless killers with no regard to the effects their actions had on the survivors.

During the mid-1600s, about the same time as the Salem Witch Trials, the small town of New Castle, New Hampshire came under terror when paranoias surrounding witches began to haunt the nation. One, Agatha Steins, held the title of Arch-Witch in the local coven responsible for sacrificing to the pagan gods. Children disappeared by the hundreds during this time of sorrow and horror.

For the longest time, it was believed the witches used the children as means to remain immortal. Their insides, they used for divination and spells. The townsfolk fell deep in grief until the arrival of Solomon Kayne, a well-known hunter of the children of black magic.

Solomon hunted the coven and destroyed many of them but not before he learned of a dark secret hidden deep within the forest just beyond the town.

The Devil's Coven, as they called themselves, took the blood of their kills and poured the remains, bones, innards and all, over the roots of a tree deep in the heart of the forest.

Rumor had it, the tree grew so poisoned with evil, it took on a demonic personality of its own and lured unsuspecting victims who ventured into the forest to their doom.

Before she died, Agatha cursed the line of Solomon Kayne, swearing she would drive them all into such deep madness, they would either take their own life or die from the strain.

As time went on, the people of New Castle forgot about the macabre findings. The town built up; its modernization burying the evil beneath the tides of history.

****

Megan! Be Wilcox screamed across the large Victorian home to her granddaughter. It's time for my breakfast! Where are you girl?!

The bitter old bat made life wretched ever since getting kicked out of yet another senior care center for acting unsuitably towards the orderlies.

Despite all of her best efforts, Megan found herself unable to find someone up to the task of taking the elder woman off of her hands. Her grandma either complained about the layouts of the rooms, the attitudes of the orderlies or how the surroundings bored her. She whined about how the place smelled, her neighbors and how she couldn't have her cat. 

Megan didn't care. She lived alone for most of the time and only saw the woman when she finished work and her other activities. She instructed yoga, served as an important member of her book club and spent the remainder of her time helping her daughter college work via Facetime.

Every day passed by the same as the one before it. Nothing too eventful went on in the small town.

Early autumn began to set in forcing the trees to begin shedding their summer coats for beautiful reds, oranges, yellows and purples. The breeze became crisp enough to pull the sweaters out of their hiding places in closets long forgotten for the summer months.

Megan got up from her favorite meditation spot in her upstairs gym. The windows formed a semi-circle. White curtains thin enough to let in light, blew with the slight breeze of the open middle window.

She sighed calling back to let her grandmother know she'd be downstairs soon, leaving the room to the country kitchen.

It's about time, child! Where have you been? Doing that crazy Eastern humming again?

It's called meditation, Megan bit back. You might try some to keep from being such a bitch.

The old woman said nothing, only scoffed and returned to watch one of her multiple daily shows.

Inside, Megan wondered if life would offer something new to her. She felt like a modern day Belle from Beauty and the Beast in her desires to see something different.

She prepared breakfast for both before getting a fresh cup of coffee and a protein smoothie to take with her to work.

After breakfast, she gathered her things and went to work.

****

The town began to put on its Halloween decorations. Pumpkins joined scarecrows and fake leaves in window displays. A banner with the letters: Annual Fall Festival hung between two of the buildings downtown.

Megan sipped her coffee. The radio played her favorite 80s music. The morning hosts then took back over to ramble about some anniversary of some insane killer's mysterious murder. The woman made ghost noises earning a laugh from her male counterpart and a few others in the station.

Ridiculous superstition. Megan thought to herself. Nothing but myth.  She pulled up to her studio to find Hailey Kemmler sitting on the cast iron bench chatting with Marcy Dixon. The hosts were still rambling until she cut them off with the turn of a key.

Ladies, Megan began. I'm very sorry for being late. My grandmother needed her medication and to complain about how bad breakfast.

Again? Marcy replied.

Jesus, doesn't that woman ever find something positive to talk about? Hailey added.

Maybe you should bring her to your class sometime, Meg. Marcy laughed.

Megan rolled her eyes. If only she could get her grandmother to calm down and look at the flowers without complaining about the weather.

For as long as Megan knew the old woman, she never once saw her do anything but complain, grimace and scowl. The whole scene reminded her of a scene from Grumpy Old Men.

At least, that's how Be was on every other day of the year. Something Meg never shared with her closest friends out of fear it would make her look sound crazy. For you see, every year around Halloween, Be Wilcox grew incredibly quiet and spent most of her time staring out of the window at the old woods behind the house.

When Meg dared to ask her one year, she never got an answer, only mumbling. The only thing her grandmother ever asked her to bring her was the rosary she received from her mother before she died.

If Meg didn't know better, she swore her grandmother held onto a secret. Something she felt needed to be guarded no matter what it took her. This year, Meg promised herself she'd find out what the old woman hid even if she had to bribe her with extra pudding for dessert.

The yoga class went by faster than usual so Meg decided to go to the nearest coffee shop to get a hot tea and a bottled water. She invited Marcy and Hailey to join her to enjoy some girl time.

The three women sat in the cafe exchanging Halloween plans, what their kids wanted to be and some local folklore.

Meg saw this as an opportunity to mention her grandmother's bizarre behavior starting with the window.

Weird, Hailey said. You say she just sits there staring out into the trees?

Meg nodded. It's the strangest thing. All she asks for is her rosary and the occasional meal. Otherwise, it's just mumbling. If I had to place a guess, I'd think she was praying.

Yeah, but over what and why? What is it about the forest? Marcy questioned.

Meg shrugged. I'm not sure. I've gone hiking in those woods many times before.

Hailey and Marcy shrugged.

As many of them do with a group of women, the subject dropped to complaints about how lazy guys can be and if Meg finally decided to ask the local hot cowboys out. Of course, Meg shoved her friend's off by rolling her eyes and making excuses as to why she hadn't found Mr. Right yet.

Well, girls, it's been great but I better get home. Still have to go for a run, do the dishes, laundry and feed the old bat before she calls the police again to see where I am. Meg said.

She gave Hailey and Marcy both hugs and they went their separate ways.

Meg sat in her car for a moment to think about what her friends told her. Lately, she'd fallen into a slump, feeling like she no longer had any say in how her life went.

For most of the day, if she didn't work, her grandmother demanded things constantly.

Oh well, nothing left to do until I can find someone to take her off my hands. Meg told herself, turned on her car and listened to the radio on her drive home.

****

As she approached her house, the radio became nothing but static until she got to the treeline. Then things got strange. Amongst the static, she swore she heard the whispering of voices. They called her to go into the forest to find a tree.

Okay, that's weird. Meg said out loud and turned off the radio. Her hair on the back of her neck stood at attention.

Something about the whispers made her gut churn and twist in on itself. She'd lived in New Castle for most of her life and never heard anything like it.

When Meg arrived at her house, she opened the door to find her grandmother no longer in front of the blaring television. The house appeared quiet.

Gram, Meg called out. Gram where are you?

Worried, Meg scaled the stairs to find her grandma's chair lift at the very top. She ran to the window to find the old woman sitting in the exact spot Meg told her friend's about.

The sight always appeared so eerie.

Agitated, Meg walked over to her grandma. You do this every year! What is it about that damn forest that makes you think you have to sit here all season and pray over it?

Be said nothing. She held her rosary in her trembling hand while murmuring a Catholic prayer.

That's it. I'm going to find out what the hell is up with that place. Meg said and turned to leave only to find her wrist grabbed.

Don't you be doing anything foolish, girl. That place isn't for visiting, not for the likes of our family. Be replied. Her voice more gruff than usual.

What do you mean for our family?

The old woman sighed. Forget about it. Don't go into that forest. Not on All Hallow's Eve.

Forget about it? How could Meg forget about what she'd been told? If anything her curiosity spiked.

Instead of going for her nightly run, Meg elected to sit down in front of her laptop and do some research surrounding New Castle and her family tree. Her brother, a computer genius, set up a digital copy of the family tree dating all the way back to the 1800s.

Okay, let's see what secrets you've been keeping, grandmother. Meg went through pages about New Castle, keeping focus on which events crossed with her family tree.

After hours of searching, she came up empty.

Sighing, Meg leaned back in her chair. None of this made sense. Why would her grandmother be so shady about her family tree?

Meg looked at the clock to find she'd stayed up later than she intended. She rose from her chair, shut her laptop and made her way to the bathroom to get a quick shower.

Once she finished, Meg wiped the steam from the mirror, looked at herself, back down at the sink and then back up in the mirror. A face more terrifying than anything she'd seen stared back at her from over her shoulder.

Gasping, she turned to see if someone was there. Her hand rested on her chest in an attempt to help her calm down.

Thankfully, she found herself still alone.

Okay, get a grip, Meg. There's no such thing as ghosts or ghost voices, evil spirits, or anything like that, She told herself. Your mind is just playing tricks because of the season and the weirdness of your gram.

Sure of herself, Meg turned off the lights and got in bed.

The beginning of the night seemed quiet until a pounding began resounding throughout the house. Muffled voices joined scratches across the roof, pulling Megan out of a deep sleep with a jerk.

Heart pounding, Megan got out of her bed. Keeping close to the wall, she crept down the hallway. The pounding continued until she reached the room where her grandmother sat.

Be's chair no longer faced the window. Instead, she faced the fireplace, her head lulled to the side like she was sleeping.

Gram? Were you pounding on something just now? Megan asked.

No answer came so Meg crept up behind her and gently turned the chair to face her only to jump back in utter terror.

Her grandmother's eyes, frozen open in an empty gaze, stared back at her. The rosary hung loose in her shriveled hand.

Terrified, Meg ran from the room back to her bedroom to sit on the sheets. This isn't real. Please God, this isn't real. It's just a nightmare.

The pounding stopped as suddenly as it started. Whispering voices echoed in the room. They grew so numerous, Meg thought she might go insane.

She covered her ears, her teeth clenched together. For the first time in years, she began uttering a silent prayer until she fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion.

****

The following morning, Meg startled awake. She made her way to Be's room to find the old woman staring out of the window just as she did the day before.

It's only just started, Be said in a monotone voice. You best be ready.

I don't understand. Why is this happening? What's going on? Meg began to cry. Her heart raced in