The Black Stone

By T.S. Thomas

In a dark cabin, young Neilla lie moments from death after being brutally attacked. With an agenda of her own an elder appears, granting Neillas grief-stricken mother a special gift to bring her back by casting her spirit from her body and into another. Casting the spirit was successful but what happens afterward is unimaginable, and in a fitful rage the spirit attempts to return to Neilla, but accidentally ravages her body to ashes. Infuriated, the spirit must be trapped, and so the elder transforms Neillas ashes to a single black stone and traps the spirit inside. More than a century passes and the stone is safe, but believing the stone is a priceless gem, Megan, a malicious teen, steals it, unknowingly releasing the spirit which sends her through time and into Neillas body to relive the events leading to her death. Besieged with anger, the spirits power is ignited and wreaks havoc on all who have hurt Megan, but her rage has no end nor does she accept responsibility for her own wrongdoings. Realizing the chaos brought by her hands, the elder decides to undo the spell but must also erase Megans existence for there are destructive secrets binding the girls. Can Megan control the fire within or suffer Neillas fate and can the elder undo her gift so that Neilla and her spirit can finally rest?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514493434

T.S. Thomas

Tamika S. Thomas currently resides in Brooklyn, NY, where she was born and raised. She has written fiction as a student at The Institute for Children’s Literature and was a contributor for FlawlessMagazine. Her work as a poet, freelancer, and blogger has led her toward mystery and fiction writing, targeting anyone from young adult to adults—or as she puts it, “anyone who can learn a lesson”, for each story brings about lessons of gaining from pain, finding lost strength, humility, confidence and courage, but most of all…self. When asked what inspires her, she confesses, “I’m just the puppet; I mostly write what my nightmares tell me to write. She also notes that she brings her characters to life by using not only her nightmares, but her “weird and unbelievable” life experiences. She has published her first book, The Black Stone, last year and is currently working on her next one, “The four elders” to be released soon this year!

Book preview

Prologue

The Four Sisters

What should we do with this… Mr. Berman? Demira asked in her raspy voice. Surely, he must pay for what he’s done. She adjusted her crossed legs.

Yes, my sister, Shalandria responded coldheartedly. His actions should cost him his life.

Kriel exclaimed, No! He must live so that he suffers!

Then we sever his arms so he can never take another child, Shalandria responded.

But, my sister, Demira asked, what about the weapon between his legs?

We shall sever that too, Shalandria answered heatedly.

The eldest sister asked unconfidently, And if the spell is not strong enough, what then shall we do?

That all depends on the faith you have in yourself, Shalandria responded. As the days go, so does your faith.

I have faith! Swani said defensively. But it is the faith from all of you that I do not have!

Faith in you we have, Shalandria replied. But time after time, we have watched your weakness cause spells to be as weak as you have become! They have caused the sufferings of others, and time after time, we have had to reverse those spells or leave the victims to their doom! Your lack of faith is so powerful that sometimes not even the three of us can restore the victims!

Shalandria, enough! Demira scolded. This is not necessary!

It is as necessary as the air we breathe, Demira! And you know that what I speak is only the truth! Shalandria then returned her attention to Swani. We have spent decades dealing with your lack of confidence, and if you are not careful, one day it will cost us our lives!

Kriel added softly, This is true, Swani. You have the powers beyond us all. You can speak to the universe and call onto the energies which it holds. You’ve succeeded in many spells, saved lives, and given such hope to the hopeless, yet you believe in all but one.

Swani paused for a moment, scanning the darkness of the woods and massaging her aging bones. She turned toward the faintly crackling flames, revealing her slowly forming tears. There are moments when my fear of failure is stronger than my faith in success. She confessed as she turned back toward Kriel. It is true that I possess these powers which you speak. When I am in fear, I invoke the strength of the universe to heal that fear, but sometimes, darkness enters, and it consumes me. It is hard to stay strong when darkness holds on.

It is you that holds on, Demira added compassionately. It is for this reason that you will never be as strong as your fullest potential. Swani, you must let go of what holds you back. You mustn’t let this darkness control you.

Kriel asked, Sister, you are the strongest with the brightest light of all. Can you not see your light?

I am old now, Swani answered gloomily. It is too late for my light to shine brighter than it already has. So much time has passed for me—for all of us.

There is still much light in us all, Demira consoled her dismayed sister, and we will make this one count.

You are too sensitive, Swani! Shalandria snapped. You cannot control your emotions so you cannot control your powers!

Emotions! Swani retorted. You once possessed the powers of compassion and sympathy, but now you are as cold as winter! You have lost your heart!

I still own it! Shalandria snapped. The difference is I know when to use it and when to store it!

My sisters. Demira calmly interrupted. The time is not our own. There is something of grave importance we must tend to, and this is not it. We must be wise and stand strong or we will fall. All of us. Our constant bickering only divides us. This is not the way.

You are right, Demira. Shalandria responded, sharp-eying her sister. We must tend to the task at hand. Without saying another word, she walked ahead as she normally did when her way was not met and as usual the others followed.

§§§

The sisters parted to their respective cottages, working meticulously to create the perfect spell that would bring the children to justice.

Infliction—it was Shalandria’s greatest power. She was the most uncompromising and most stubborn of the four. Even as she began her spell she worked angrily yet cautiously so not to allow any negative energies to enter her brew. As she worked, a smile was brought upon her face, and she worked tirelessly, mixing in crushed coyote bones, enchanted water, and red ginger root which created a most intoxicating paste. After it was completed, she spoke the children’s names into her paste and chanted words only her sisters would understand. Lastly, she turned up her nose to the pungent odor and proudly listened to the ingredients crackle.

My sister is wrong, she said to herself. I do possess the power of compassion. I do have sympathy. Even as my brew simmers chills invade my body. She grabbed her bottle of hot spices and began shaking the contents into the pot. I am constantly haunted by the children’s cries and could feel their fears! I can see them begging for their lives as that monster dragged them through the bog to torture and murder them! I have compassion! The fire rose almost to a dangerous high, and Shalandria knew she let her emotions get the better of her.

She calmed herself down, but her heart still ached terribly. She nearly began to weep but couldn’t. She wouldn’t. What would it mean? That she lost her touch? That she was… weak? That she was like her sister who was too sensitive to complete a simple task? No! She shouted at herself. Don’t you dare let one tear pass your cheek!

After scolding herself she disregarded her brief moment of weakness, for she could not let it interfere with her spells. Her anxiousness was fueled, and her angry heart hungered for nothing more than to inflict the children’s pain upon Mr. Berman, for it was her most precious gift to give.

§§§

Nature—It was the presence of the trees and soothing sounds that gave Demira life when she needed it most. A heavy breeze surrounded her, and she knew something was calling out to her. Perhaps it was the rocks that scattered the ground near her cottage or the fireflies that flickered through the night. Either way, nature spoke to her ritually, guiding her through her daily paths. But this breeze was particularly strong, chilling her bones and whitening several strands of her hair as it so often did when something of great importance was being advised to her.

Demira knew from whom this presence was sent. It was her precious Mother Willow, the tree she named nearly a century prior. This tree was the essence of her strength, and she relied heavily on it to guide and protect her, often referring to it as Millow when Mother Willow proved to be as boring as any day she was not conjuring.

As Demira walked toward the tree, she smiled. Leaning into it, she listened carefully to what ingredients were being advised of her. Nodding, she patted Millow. Thank you, she said, watching maple-colored sap drip slowly down Millow’s bark. The sap was cool to the touch and hardened just before it reached the ground.

After plucking the calcified sap, Demira placed it in her mouth. She swooshed the candy-like sap around her cheeks as it created a thick sweet and sour saliva. She reached down and grabbed the largest, most sturdy leaf and spit the sap into it. Within seconds, the leaf began shaking rapidly.

Demira quickly walked into her cottage and placed the leaf inside a small bowl just in time for the leaf to transform into a large poisonous snake, which devoured all the contents in the bowl. Perfect, she whispered, taking a rock and smashing the snake to death. Afterwards, she extracted into the glass the most important part of the snake—its venom.

§§§

Regeneration—it was one of Kriel’s most powerful gifts, and although she could restore flesh with the will of her mind, she mostly prided herself with the power to resurrect the dead. But he is not dead, she said glumly. My powers work best when he takes his last breath. So how shall he pay when he still breathes? She paused for a moment, scouting the area for her favorite ingredients. Ah, yes! She exclaimed loudly, scraping off the guts of the slimy slug squished between her toes. This will do just fine! She wrapped the scrapings in a cloth, which held the guts of a wasp, the wings of a mosquito, and a large Madagascar she traveled far and wide to capture. Gathering her batch, she headed toward her cottage. Yes, she said walking toward her table of goodies, these will do just fine.

§§§

Swani, still frightened of what was to come, stood outside and called onto her spirit guide. She felt a faint amount of energy as she extended her arms widely, allowing it to enter her body. It was revitalizing and nourishing to her soul. Just what I need, she thought. But then, she started feeling dizzy and nearly fell. Too much, she thought, growing furious.

Many attempts failed. She did not realize her constant self-belittlement only weakened her, making her deaf to her guide’s direction. Still, she could not give up. What would they think of me? She asked herself as she walked further into the woods searching for the perfect spot. Looking up to the sky, she shouted, Give me you! Responding to her call, a burst of lightning shot from the sky and into her body. If eyes were watching, it would appear she was being electrocuted as more bolts of radiant light traveled through her, but she felt liberated and the greatest feeling besieged her. It will work! She exclaimed confidently, kneeling to the floor and giving grace to her spirit. I will not fail—not this time.

§§§

The moment arrived, and the sisters met in the darkest part of the bayou in the deepest part of the woods. It was frigid and damp, but they trampled through unafraid by the chirring insects, hooting owls, or the hungry cries of the creatures wandering the night. Grit cut through their wooden sandals and into their skin, but they pressed on with the lights of their gems.

The rotting corpse of creatures once alive filled the air and whimpering animals lay lifelessly only inches away from their predators. All was bearable to the sisters, but within moments they would discover a most gruesome sight.

The children they were expecting to find were dead, lying face-down, limbless, naked, and frozen. Next to them, a large tree leaned, and the body of Mr. Berman dangled lazily from a one-inch-thick rope. Beneath him was a fallen stool, indicating he had taken his own life.

Rumors were that Mr. Berman had grown tired of his ways and promised it would be the last time. Once he heard of the sisters he knew it would be but a matter of time before they caught up to him, so instead of giving them the satisfaction of ending him, he hung himself just before they arrived.

Disheartened by the scene before her, Swani wept. How could there be justice now?

He still pays! The merciless Shalandria exclaimed. We will make sure of this!

He is dead, my sister. Kriel cried with much pain in her heart. It is over. We are too late.

We are not too late! Shalandria snapped. If his body cannot pay then his spirit will!

No, Shalandria! Demira cried. The spell which you speak is dangerous. You are aware of the consequences it may impose. Every attempt has failed us!

Then we dare not fail! Shalandria shouted, peering into Swani’s eyes. We cannot fail! Not this time!

No one expected him to take his own life! Swani responded. We did not prepare for—

We must always prepare for the worst!

And did you prepare? Swani sneered.

I am ALWAYS prepared! Shalandria answered cockily. Especially, for the worst!

It was true that Shalandria was always prudent, and attempting to contradict her was barely ever wise. Although there was no time to gain the courage required, Swani knew she had to make a decision as to whether or not she would allow herself to be defeated by her lack of confidence.

Taking it all in, Swani sighed. The time is now, she said. Let us begin.

The sisters smiled proudly. Shalandria was proud but refused to show it. This was one of those emotions she felt the need to store and the sisters were used to it. disregarding Shalandria’s stubbornness they returned their attention to the boys, staring at their blood as it seeped through the earth. It was everywhere trailing from their dismembered body parts, which were scattered throughout the woods, and although there were three bodies, not all parts were recovered. Fortunately, their heads were still intact.

Animal. Demira sneered. This monster—this thing! He… must… suffer!

No tears, my sisters! Shalandria demanded, fighting against her own. Nothing, not even our salty tears will bring them back!

But they are so broken. Kriel cried. What shall we do now?

We must make them whole again, Shalandria responded.We will bury their bodies. We will forever watch over their souls, and no one will alert anyone of this discovery.

Yes, my sister. Kriel agreed. And any memory the parents have of them shall cease to exist.

But sisters! Swani opposed. It is their children! A parent shall never forget their child!

No one should ever witness such pain, and no one should ever be left with such memories! Kriel exclaimed.

Better than none at all!

If they do not exist, then they have nothing to remember!

But they do exist, Kriel! Swani proclaimed. They exist even in their deaths. Do not rob their parents of that!

It is to protect them, Swani!

From what, Kriel? Their murderer is dead now! We must alert their parents at once!

You are the eldest— Shalandria said, But you are, in no position, to make demands! You have lost that privilege long ago!

I have every right to—

Swani! Can’t you see the suffering this will bring to them? This will cause more pain than even I can bear!

Then this is to protect you, not them!

I merely use my own level of tolerance in comparison to what you are incapable of withstanding. Swani, you must understand how important it is that we do what we must do, and you must understand we must do it now while there is still time!

She is right, my sister. Demira chimed in.

Swani backed away from her sisters, half disgusted, but also knowing their words were of truth and maybe even wisdom. Shalandria, especially, knew Swani best and knew her empathetic struggles. She knew it would kill Swani to live with knowing the pain the parents would endure if