The Scribe Of Salem: Ministers Of The Mystery

By Kathie Costos

Reviewed by K.C. Finn for Readers' Favorite

The Scribe of Salem by Kathie Costos is a historical supernatural suspense story, the first edition in the Ministers of the Mystery series, and best suited to an adult audience. In this thrilling work filled with fantasy, magic, secrets, and scripture, we are introduced to the brutal and needless violence of the Salem Witch Trials from an interesting new perspective. Journalist Chris Papadopoulos is our central figure, and he thinks he's already had his fair share of personal and professional horrors in the risky life he's chosen to lead. But no modern-day warzone could compare with what awaits him in Salem and the minister he will have to deal with once there.

Kathie Costos weaves an engrossing and spine-tingling tale that beautifully blends dark fantasy, gothic fiction, and supernatural horror to deliver the best of all these genres combined. This is an area of history that I've read a lot about and enjoyed exploring. I loved the perspective that Costos takes with the idea of secrets, gossip, whispers, and the written word being more dangerous than any otherworldly monster could ever be. The writing style is sharp and focused on the moment at hand, moving quickly through different scenes with swift dialogue that helps keep the pace. Overall, The Scribe of Salem is a work filled right to the brim with intrigue, emotional depth, and historical horror, and I can't wait to see what the rest of the series holds in store.

 

He hated changes since most of the ones that already happened made his life worse. One night, at Bishop Hotel bar in Salem, a series of changes began that terrified him. A Master Minister was waiting for him in New Hampshire. All he had to do was stop fighting against meeting her.

The Vision Awaits Prophecy: "The 13th Minister shall arise from the shadow of Proctor's Ledge and demons will dread the sword of truth in the hands of the powerful scribe."

In modern-day Salem, The Master Ministers were preparing for the most powerful one of all would take his place as the 13th Minister. All they had to do was convince him to do it.

What if there is someone on this earth today sent to help heal the world and prevent suffering but isn't receiving the help he needs to do what he was sent to do? What if everything is in place for it to all happen, but he decides to not do it?
The Scribe of Salem is book one. The Visionary of Salem is book two. 13th Minister of Salem is book three.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kathie Costos
• Release date: Nov 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215191989

Kathie Costos

Kathie Costos survived over ten traumatic events that could have killed her. For four decades she helped other survivors heal using personal experience, research, and thousands of articles, she compiled many true stories in creating The Ministers Of The Mystery Series THE SCRIBE OF SALEM IS BOOK ONE THE VISIONARY OF SALEM IS BOOK TWO 13TH MINISTER OF SALEM IS BOOK THREE Kathie lives in New Hampshire with her second husband of over three decades, and their dog Murray. Other books are For The Love Of Jack, The Warrior SAW, Residual War, Websites; Wounded Times and PTSD Patrol

Book preview

PREFACE

"I n January 1697, the Massachusetts General Court declared a day of fasting for the tragedy of the Salem witch trials; the court later deemed the trials unlawful, and the leading justice Samuel Sewall publicly apologized for his role in the process. The damage to the community lingered, however, even after Massachusetts Colony passed legislation restoring the good names of the condemned and providing financial restitution to their heirs in 1711." history.com

CHRIS GREW UP IN SALEM and thought he knew everything there was to learn about witches. He never expected to meet real ones.

1 THE DEMON

Twelve women in Salem Massachusetts gathered at dawn on the beach at Salem Willows, dressed in full-length purple hooded capes covering their faces. The leader raised her hands as the sun came up, Awake Matthias, and the others repeated it. This night his suffering comes to an end. All is prepared.

THE GATES OF HELL GROANED opening wider waiting for his final, fatal choice. Friday, September 13, 2019, Christopher Papadopoulos had seen a lot in his life. With all his uncertainty the only thing he was sure of, was that he didn’t want to see more of it. He once traveled the world as a newspaper reporter. He covered most of the major events but it was his reporting on the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq that made him famous until his life fell apart. No one knew where to find him or why he left the newspaper.

As usual, on this very unusual night, he wanted to drown his misery at the bar of the hotel near his apartment. It was his custom to celebrate the completion of yet another series of greeting cards to submit. Sympathy cards were usually the first ones he did. After all, he knew what words he’d love to hear during the abysmal time of his life, even though he knew, feeling any level of comfort wouldn’t last long. It was the happy cards that ate away at his soul. He refused to do wedding or anniversary cards. He remembered what it was like to feel all the events he was writing about, but more so, he knew what it was like to have all of them turn into nightmares.

The bartender, Ed Hamilton, was on duty. Chris stood near the doorway at The Bishop Hotel bar, watching and remembering all the times they talked and teased each other. It was built in the 1700s had 20 guest rooms, a restaurant, and his favorite room of all, the bar. When he walked in wet from the rain Ed laughed. Chris was relieved to see him because he almost didn’t say goodbye to him. It was his place to find comfort since moving back to Salem. So many times he looked into Ed’s soulful brown eyes while Chris poured his heart out to him, almost as often as Ed poured his drinks. All the times Chris teased him about his goatee turning gray faster than his hair did, and then teasing him about how much he needed a haircut. It was all fine with Ed because he had plenty to tease Chris about, especially after he had to start wearing glasses and bought a pair that looked like Benjamin Franklin wore.

Chris loved to use nicknames. In the beginning, he called Ed Mads because he looked like Mads Mikkelsen from the movie Casino Royale. Ed turned it around and called Chris Keanu because he looked like an aged Keanu Reeves. Those nicknames stopped when they got closer and Ed started to watch over him. Chris called Ed Dad whenever he tried to get some sense into him, like reminding him to eat.

Ed had been listening to Chris for three years. Chris was only 44 but he looked ten years older with his black hair turning gray, the half-dead appearance of a man who had seen too much. Deep lines on his face and his 6’2 body had been wearing down. He looked in the mirror behind the bar, next to the giant painting of the Salem Witchcraft Trials, and saw a stranger. He wondered if he’d ever see himself again, instead of the man he became. Ed took away his empty glass and poured him another drink of CC and Sprite. So, where have you been? I haven’t seen you in a couple of days?"

Chris took his regular seat, and smirked, Just finishing up another round of writing cards.

Ed rolled his eyes, When are you gonna stop waiting for the last few days before doing them? You had a whole month!

Give me a break! Chris had the same conversation with him every month. It’s two days early this time, besides ‘It is easier to resist at the beginning than at the end.’ Feeling so proud of his answer, Chris picked up his glass and finished it off.

Are you quoting DaVinci again? Well at least you made procrastination an occupation you mastered and no, I’m not impressed since the 15th is a Sunday and you’d be late. I hope you got it in before 5:00 at least. Ed poured him another drink.

Yes. At 4:45. You’re such a wise guy. I’m used to meeting deadlines and somehow, I do my best writing when I’m in a rush. Chris was a man of his word. Even with what he was planning on doing, he had to keep his promise to finish the assignment. Ed shook his head and went to wait on another customer. Just as Chris picked up his drink, a group of men walked in. As they passed, one of them suddenly stopped. The biggest smile came over his face when he saw Chris. He sensed he was being watched, turned to look at the man, and jumped off the barstool, dropping it to the floor, shouting, Wild Bill, lunging to hug him.

Chris hadn’t seen Bill Gibson in exactly seven years from that day. They spent most of their lives in constant contact since seventh grade. Describing Bill is almost impossible because his gene pool was full of different races. His dark, curly hair and darker complexion could have appeared to be Italian to some, to others Hispanic, and to others light skin Black American. His hazel eyes made his race even harder to guess. Bill was not only Chris’s best friend and best man at his wedding, but he was also his ex-brother-in-law. He had no idea what happened to him, and Bill didn’t know what Chris had been through. All he knew was they got divorced.

All the years of war in Iraq and Afghanistan didn’t seem to age Bill. His eyes were still full of life. While Chris thought fate must have treated Bill right, Bill knew life must have been sucking out Chris’s soul. Chris, dreading having to talk to him about the marriage falling apart decided to put it off as long as he could. He wasn’t sure what Bill had heard about it from his ex-wife. He could only imagine all the horrible things she told him, blaming it all on him.

So Bill, what are you doing back in Salem? The last time I saw you, you said you were going to stay in the Army for the rest of your life. And then I got blown up.

I was but I got out over five years ago. We’re here for a reunion. One of our buddies died five years ago.

Oh sorry. Was he killed in action?

No, but he’s dead because of it.

Chris felt the tension building inside of his body. His mind was consumed with building anger. He didn’t care who died or how. All he could think about was what happened to him since the last time he saw the man across from him. Seeing Bill reminded him of what life was like when he wasn’t hurting.

Ed came back, refilled Chris’s drink, and got Bill’s drink order. Chris introduced him to Bill. Ed, this is my old buddy, Bill. I used to tell him everything. Now I will tell you everything. Ed shook his head again and shook Bill’s hand. Bill snickered, He really is a handful. I’ll have a Coors. Nice to meet you. Ed walked away, shaking his disapproving head, saying, You too.

The two of them ran out of small talk. Then the hard questions started after Bill ordered another round of drinks before heading over to the others he came with. He held up his glass, and so did Chris. A toast to defeating the demons. Bill took a gulp but Chris put his glass down.

Ok, what’s going on? Are you all right? Bill waited for an answer but Chris picked up his glass and drank, taking a hard swallow while he choked on the words.

Well, you're here for a reunion because someone died. I’m here because my marriage died, my career died and I didn’t yet.

Look, I get it but I told you not to marry her. She was my sister and right up until she was walking down the aisle, I told you it wasn’t too late to change your mind.

Chris could feel the anger building inside, You never told me she was bat-crap crazy!

How could I? Would you have believed me? I knew the only reason she was marrying you was that you’d be away most of the time on assignments and she could do what she wanted, but there wasn’t a damn thing I could say to change your mind. I’m sorry it ended the way it did.

Chris slammed his drink down on the bar, "She tried to kill me and then stalked me for a year while you were in Afghanistan! Did she tell you any of that?

Bill’s eyes opened wide, No, I had no clue. My family wouldn’t talk about any of it. I’m guessing you haven’t talked to my parents either.

Chris sneered, Oh no, but I bet your sister did, pushing his glasses on top of his head feeling the anger building inside him.

Do you live in Salem?

Yes, but don’t change the subject.

Then why haven’t you talked to them? They still live in the same house.

What can I say to them? I bet your sister told them a boatload of lies.

Anger was replaced by sadness in Bill, If you haven’t talked to them, then you don’t know. Wow, taking a deep breath, Brenda died about six months ago.

Shock took over, What? How?

She was drunk driving again.

He huffed, Did she kill anyone?

Nope. Just the tree she smashed into. Bill finished his drink and put the glass down hard.

Chris could see the pain in his eyes. Bill, I’m sorry. struggling to get the words out. You lost your sister and for a while there, I forgot that. He picked up his drink and put it back down. They sat in silence for a few minutes until one of the men Bill came in with signaled for him to join the group.

Chris, look, why don’t you come over with the guys? You know most of them and I’m sure they’ll get a kick out of seeing you again. Bill got up. Chris followed. So who are you doing the reunion for?

Walter, but you called him Weeble. He came to our unit a few months before you got blown up.

Oh wait. Do you mean the little guy who was a klutz? I remember him. He kept tripping on air but never fell.

Ya, that’s him. You used to keep saying Weebles wobble but they don’t fall down. He liked that stupid nickname.

Oh wow.

He was a sweet kid but he got PTSD bad and they sent him home. The bastards gave him a personality disorder discharge and cut him off everything. He left a note saying he ran out of hope, but not rope. In two years he went from doing what he always wanted to do into someone with no hope at all.

Shit! That happened way too much. Chris patted Bill’s shoulder.

They reached the table and the others were looking at Chris. Bill put his arm on his shoulder, You remember Nanos? They all smiled and then broke out laughing at Chris’s reaction to the name. Did y'all just call me dwarf?

Bill laughed louder. What did you expect us to call you since you’re taller than all of us?

Chris smiled, It ain’t my fault you’re only a five-foot-ten Oompa-Loompa. At least when I picked a nickname it fit. He called the waitress over to order another round of drinks while the rest were laughing, remembering how the two of them always did lighten the mood.

Bill laughed, Ya well, we’re more sarcastic than you were.

They told stories about what they did on some of the missions most of them did together. When the drinks came, Bill stood up, and the others did too. Raising their glasses. To Weeble, and they drank. One of the others remained standing, and raised his glass again, And to Mandy for all of us not following him. The others got to their feet, raised their glasses, and said, God blessed Mandy.

The reporter inside Chris woke up and he asked, Who’s Mandy? Smiles came over the group and Bill nodded his head looking at the others, waiting for approval. They nodded in return.

Mandy saved us from giving up like Weeble did. You’re looking at 100% disabled vets with PTSD and the only reason we’re alive is because of her.

Is she a VA doc?

Hell no. Don’t get me wrong because most of us go to VA shrinks, but she helped us heal more.

How?

Nucking Futs David. He should be here soon. He found her first and can tell you more about her.

David Mac Donald strolled into the bar. He was tall, and muscular, with fiery red flowing hair with a scraggly beard. He looked more like an ancient Scottish warrior than he did when he was in the Army with cropped hair. David’s family moved from Scotland when he was starting high school and he joined the Army as soon as he graduated. When he walked over to the group, they all got up out of their chairs and hugged, then he saw Chris. Oh, my God! Nanos! He walked over to him. As soon as he got a closer look at his eyes, he could see an all too familiar pain the fake smile couldn’t cover up. He gave him a bear hug and whispered in his Scottish accent, Your demon is in control for now. Time to take back your life as we did.

Chris was struggling with being insulted or going with feeling strangely accepted, Good to see you. I’ll be right back. He walked away, and went to the men’s room, shaking his head and wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean. While he was away from the group, Bill told David what was going on with Chris. They agreed he should meet Mandy. If anyone needed her help, it was Chris.

Chris came back to the table, losing no time, So who the hell is Mandy? David smiled, More like who’s the angel, Mandy? After Weeble’s funeral, I was heading for the same ending. I was a mess. I thought my family didn’t want me around anymore, so I decided to take my VA Comp and pension, and head north to find someplace where I could be by myself or end it. I was headed to Conway, New Hampshire when my truck broke down in Gabriel. That was where I met Mandy.

Did you fall in love with her?

In a way but not the way you’re thinking. She saved my life. One by one, five others said, And mine.

Chris became fascinated, How?

David smirked, She saved it by the Grace of God. When she prays, she knows exactly what people need to hear, even though they may not know it at the time. Almost as if she is talking for God. She told me things no one else knew and said things no one else ever told me. I looked at God in a new way and saw myself through different eyes.

Bill agreed. She saved us the same way even though we never met her. We only talked to her on the phone or by email. No one meets her unless they are supposed to.

I don’t understand. Is she protected or something? He asked with sarcasm.

Ya, she is. It’s a tiny town. Everyone makes sure no one finds her unless they’re supposed to. They don’t even call her by her name in public. The only reason I found her was because she found me. David had a tear in his eye, And then saved this bunch afterward.

What is she? A witch or something?

In a way, ya, but she’ll have to explain it to you.

Sitting in between Bill and David, Chris was looking at all their tattoos. The others had them too but just under David’s right T-shirt sleeve were the words blessed are the peacemakers and under the left, For those I love, I will sacrifice. Bill had John 3:16 without the words, which was one of the few Bible passages Chris knew by heart. They spent almost two hours, laughing, teasing each other, and remembering some of the strange things they saw. None of them wanted to talk about all the bad times they had. It was almost as if he wished he was back with them because wars were a lot easier to understand than everything else he had been through.

Bill looked at his watch, Brothers we should get to our rooms so we’re not late for sunrise. As he was getting up to leave, he turned to Chris, Chris, why don’t you meet us at Puritan Lawn Cemetery and we can talk more tomorrow.

Thanks but I didn’t really know him. I don’t want to intrude.

David said, You need to be there to prolong meeting him again. Chris understood his point but couldn't understand how David knew what was going on in his mind.

THE RAIN STOPPED AS he walked through the fog creating a glow from the street light above his head. Dampness and doubt got into his bones. His hand shook unlocking the door to his apartment. He put his keys on his desk and tore up the note he left for Ed. He knew Ed would be the only one who would care if he died. He planned on leaving Ed what little he had because there was no one else. He went over to his bed, picked up his gun, and put it in the nightstand drawer, terrified by his thoughts. It started to feel as if his life was a horror novel the ghost of Thomas Aquinas would have started and Edgar Allan Poe was put in charge of the ending.

2 THE VALLEY

The next morning while it was still dark, the men waited in their cars for the Puritan Lawn caretaker to open the gates. David was friends with him and they had special permission to be there. He came, unlocked the gate and David followed him to Weeble’s grave, with the other cars following close behind. The caretaker stood off to the side while they walked to the grave. Bill was late. David took off his backpack and pulled out a bottle of wine and plastic cups. Just then Bill finally arrived running over to them. David shook his disapproving head, Did you remember the ice?

Bill laughed, Of course I did. He broke open the bag, popped some cubes in the cups and David started to unwrap the top. Bill was searching his pockets. Shit! I forgot the corkscrew! David laughed as he twisted off the top and poured.

Bill stared at his cup being filled and said, How the hell could he drink this stuff? Chris looked at the bottle of Cana Merlo while David reminded Bill that was the only thing Weeble wanted to drink.

They formed a circle, waited for the sun to come up, and raised their glasses, To Weeble! They finished off the wine, crushed the cups, then stood around his headstone, silently leaning on one another. They hugged. Some wiped their eyes looked down at the headstone and slowly walked away.

The other men started heading to their cars, but Bill and David weren’t ready to walk away. Chris felt out of place and started to walk away when David asked him to wait. Bill nodded and told Chris that David wanted to talk to him.

CHRIS AND DAVID WALKED to the pond. Isn’t it beautiful here?

Ya it is, I guess for a cemetery, shoving his hands in his pockets.

What did you think about Weebles’s headstone?

That he was too damn young to be here.

He was young, but between the time he was born and the time he died, he lived a life. That’s what’s important. The lives he touched while he was here, are the reason most of us are still here. So what happened to you? The last time I saw you, you got blown up in Afghanistan. I was so glad when Bill told me you survived.

Just barely. My body recovered but I’m covered with scars. I couldn’t travel anymore to the war zones. Brenda wasn’t happy about me being stateside and home in LA every night. Last night Bill told me his sister only married me because I’d be away most of the time and she could do whatever she wanted.

Wow, that sucks!

Anyway, I got more and more miserable to be around. She blamed me and started to, Chris was having a hard time saying it. David waited patiently. She started to verbally abuse me. That turned into physical abuse and I ended up getting fired from the paper because I was missing assignments and, taking a deep breath, drinking most of the time. That night, she came home from work, and as soon as she walked in the door, she punched me in the face. When I blocked the next one, she hurt her wrist. She grabbed a knife with her left but missed my heart and only cut the side of my chest. She took off and I went to the hospital. I told them I did it to myself. That was when I packed my stuff into suitcases and walked out the door.

Hell of a way to end a marriage.

I thought it was the end but it wasn’t. The witch stalked me after that. I wanted to get a restraining order but couldn’t find the balls to say my wife beat me. Anyway, she called me over and over again, showed up when I least expected it, and made my life hell.

Is that why you fell apart?

Yep. I was doomed because somehow she always found out where I was and who I was with. I couldn’t go anywhere.

What did all that do to you?

You know, with the wars I covered and getting blown up didn’t do as much damage to me as she did. I had nightmares and flashbacks, mood swings off the charts and so filled with anger, I had to go to the gym just to beat up a bag.

How did you manage to get the divorce if she didn’t want it to end?

I told her I kept the knife with her fingerprints and my blood on it and I’d turn her in for attempted murder if she didn’t agree to it. Then the day of the divorce, she told me I’d never be done with her and I’d always be looking over my shoulder. The thing is, she was right. I left her in LA and came back here, and was still looking over my shoulder, having a panic attack whenever I saw a red Mustang.

How long did that last?

Strange thing is, until last night when I found out she died. It was the first good night of sleep I’d had. On the way here, there was a red Mustang on the road and it didn’t bother me at all, other than the fact I was shocked I didn’t care.

I think you may want to take a trip to Gabriel and see if you can talk to Mandy.

No, I’m not a veteran.

She helps anyone God sends her. Trauma doesn’t just hit veterans.

I don’t have any extra money and besides, I wouldn’t know how to find her.

If you’re supposed to find her, trust that and you will.

Chris shook his head. You have no idea how strange that sounds to me right now. Up until you guys walked into the bar at 7:00, I would have told you what I thought about God, he looked down, that He’s a vindictive son of a bitch playing around with people’s lives and making us suffer for fun. Now I don’t know what to think.

You suffered for seven years, so ya, I get how you would feel that way. I did too for a while. The thing is, the explosion happened at 7:00 too, so maybe this time, He’s moving things around so you open your eyes to how wrong you were. Come on Bill is still waiting for us.

WHEN THEY GOT TO THE car, Bill was standing waiting for them leaning against it with his arms folded. David hugged Chris, hugged Bill, and headed to his car. As he drove off, Bill and Chris leaned against his car.

So did David help at all?

He suggested I go up to Gabriel and try to find Mandy.

Maybe you should.

That isn’t gonna happen. First I don’t have extra money and I’m not interested in going to a tiny town where I may or may not meet someone who may or may not help me when I don’t need any.

Oh, you don’t need help? Look at you! You’ve been beaten down so low you have one foot in the grave.

Anger filled his eyes, One foot! What the hell are you talking about? What do you know about what I went through or how I regretted coming home alive to the lie of my marriage? What do you know about what your sister did to me or how she destroyed my life? I’ve been reduced to writing greeting cards because no newspaper will even talk to me now.

Bill knew it was the emotional pain speaking and not the Chris he always knew. I’m gonna let all that go for now, but I can get rid of one of your excuses for not going. If you didn’t know Brenda died then you don’t know about how she still had you as the beneficiary of her life insurance and bank accounts and the Condo.

What?

She had investments, a hefty bank account, and a life insurance policy of $100,000. You know how lazy she was and she never changed them. It’s all yours.

Are you serious?

Yep, just waiting for you to cash it all in. Her lawyer tried to find you. My parents didn’t know where you were because you never contacted them. I can get you his number because my Mom still has it. As for why you should go, if you don’t want to go as someone needing help, then go as a journalist researching a good story.

If she’s such a miracle worker, why doesn’t anyone know about her?

"She explained that to David. He wondered