Thank you all for believing in me! Ia Ia! - T.Sanderson
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The old Victorian house was not without its flaws. The roof sagged, the old walls let in drafts, and the floor boards were impossibly loud to walk across. On most nights that was all anybody heard. Unfortunately for the Ritter's it would not be the case in more recently nights. It had gotten worse in the fall at the cusp of winter. The leaves had started to fall around the surrounding gardens and the screams started to become more frequent and louder as time passed on.The old home was owned by a small tight family who kept to their own. When they did make an appearance on the street outside it was for a purpose, grocery, chemist, and going to work. They never stood out as being a family of importance though it was clear they were wealthy, and nobody knew anything about them, except the infant they brought home with them one evening was not like them and on this evening the now grown up young woman sounded as if she was bringing their home down around them.
Victoria was having another nightmare, again. Only as time passed it was becoming more real to her as the sweat first became a glaze across her forehead, and evolved into a wet mixture of adrenaline and horror as it drenched her entire body. Her silk nightgown was clinging to her writhing body as she threw her pillow on to the floor and thrashed about in bed. It was always the same dream, always moving to the same unavoidable ending. Over time this drove her to stay awake as long as possible and study until her body could no longer handle the exhaustion and she fell into her dreaded dreams.
In her dreams it was always raining and cold. Through her dreams she could feel her own sweat fall across her face making the downpour in her dreams even more terrifying.
They moved her forward in a terrifying march, from time to time she could make out the clothes they were wearing. Her body felt tightly wrapped in a cloth she had discerned to be made out of deer, her hair felt longer than her own hair and from time to time caught on a tree jerking her head back as it caught and released. Her captors would move towards a circle of rhododendron and purple flowering raspberries surrounding a clearing, their grasp never loosening and as frigid as ice.
Without remorse she found her captors throwing her to the centre of the clearing so she landed on cold sharp stone on her knees. Too terrified to run she felt her arms wrap around herself looking for warmth where none was to be found. There was a sensation of respect for the place they had taken her, something eerily familiar that had once been comforting. Looking up slowly as her eyes adjusted from the darkness of their journey into the blazing light of campfires set afire on all sides of her under tall makeshift canopies to keep them alight in the rain.
This was a place of sacred reflection, a temple in the woods. Around her was seven bonfires each blazing in front of its own stone pillars. The ground had been carved with unfamiliar symbols and a sweet scent of sage filled the air. They began to chant. Her head was in a rush attempting to decipher the words; they sounded nothing like the Cherokee she was accustomed to hearing. The chanting carried with it a heavy weight, as if every syllable spoken was vibrating the clearing around them. The otherworldly voices continued to echo around her. The chanters moved so quickly she could only see the occasional blur of red, blue and white through her smoke clouded eyesight.
It was obvious she was not in her own body and the terrifying scene started to take another horrifying turn as she watched the scene as if she was above who she was in. Despite being able to see everything in clearer detail she knew she was still trapped, the rocks under the girls body could still be felt by her. The pounding of blood through her own heart rushed through the girls head, she wanted to scream to tell her, them, to run. Slowly the girl below her started to look around.
Inches in front of the girl was a perfectly dug hole. The scent of chestnut wood and damp earth filled her senses. A figure in tattered red ritual robes slowly walked up to stand behind her and spoke plainly in Cherokee to her, “Tsu-la-hi-sa-nv-hi, we will meet again.” The edges of the clearing filled with a slowly curling blue fog that drifted through the ritualists until it lapped at the feet of the girls body. The sensation sent a chilled shiver through her, it moved cross her bare feet to her legs, up her thighs and danced around her chest and throat. The fog turned into tendrils throughout the glade that turned into the shapes of men, joining the chant as disembodied voices.
She wanted to scream to the girl, to tell her to run. Her vision once more merged with the body below. The figure behind her placed their cold hands on her back, before the girl could run the figured pushed her, them, into the pitch black hole in front of them. The fall felt as a dream would, a slow sensation of floating except it ended with the sudden and horrendous pain of breaking her leg that she landed on. She wanted to wail in pain and fear, but it was too late. With a sickening around the ground around her moved and forced all of the dirt to force the lid of the coffin below closed on top of her, leaving her in darkness. She felt splinters dig into the girls broken finger nails, and after some time she felt the girls will to fight leave her.
It felt like hours had gone past, the air was almost gone and she was too tired and in too much pain to move. She felt the girls breath become slower and more laboured, it was nearly the end. It wasn't the end just yet and Victoria waited for the ending to come with panic. New pain started to encompass her. The coffin started to glow red and fill with burning cedar smoke. She coughed and let out a final scream as red flooded her vision forcing it to black.
“Edna, call the Doctor, I think the illness has gone too far this time!” Victoria could hear her mother calling for the maid, it was the loveliest thing Victoria had heard in the last few hours of her life, English, and it was her mother. “How long was I asleep?” She felt soft cool fabric against her face, “Shh now Victoria, I suppose it is needless to ask if you had that dream again, how do you feel?”
“Terrible, I need to get ready for school.” She dreaded the next thing her mother would say, it was always the same and was intended to do more harm than good disguised in a covert act of kindness.
"You are not going today Victoria." Taking a deep breath she readied herself for the potential battle ahead. She was going to go to school, and her mother was not going to stop her. “Professor Ashley arranged a meeting this morning.” It had taken her months to get a private meeting with the Professor of Ancient History. She felt her mother move, it was the authoritative way the sheets felt as they were tightened around her that told her it was the end of that discussion. Too tired from her nightmare she decided to give up on the argument, she couldn't get dressed even if she wanted to.
"Do not worry so much Victoria, I have already called Miskatonic. The doctor believes you have come down with pneumonia. If this is the case you should not even leave your bedroom. I do not know why you insist on going back to that school, why can you not be normal and find a suitable husband?" Feeling even more ill with the nagging she decided the easiest way to get rid of the nagging was to play weak and close her eyes. She knew it would be awhile before she could rest again. Feigning to sleep to appease her mother she rolled over and attempted to remember the dream. All she could ever fully recall was vague memories of figures, being pulled through prickly bushes and waking up suffocating. She felt her mother leave and let out a gasp of air, praying that these ordeals would not last her entire life.
Her charge did not seem to take the hint, "May I have something to drink Mother?." She felt her get up to leave, the creaking door pulled shut behind her and locked. At first she decided to continue school with the hope that their vast libraries would be a way to help her learn to understand her situation. Lately the Professor Ashley had been acting weird and hinted at the possibility that there was work abroad to be done, it was stay in her house and die or go abroad and live. The choice was not a hard one to make.
Victoria Ritter was born in the summer of April 1913. Outwardly she was an ordinary girl of twenty-two who did her best to not draw attention to herself. She lived in an old and still lovely home in a well-known historical neighbourhood within Arkham Massachusetts. For a girl with a lot of bad dreams her bedroom and personal affects reflected none of it. The faded flower wallpaper in her bedroom was original to the house and the room, like her life, was kept plain and tidy. She had precious few possessions despite her wealth and kept only books on the shelves in her room. One would say she slept in one and wouldn't have it any other way. Gently she chose a book from her bedside to read, but the exhaustion was too much even for her to fight, in a fever she laid the book gently on her chest and soon fell into a deep dreamless sleep.A week passed by, the nightmare came and went, muddled through her illness. Easing herself out of bed she lifted her hand to the silk braided cord next to her bed and gently pulled the bell, waiting for the maid to come and assist her to dress. Gratefully it was 1935 and her war on restrictive bodices had been fought and won against her parents. They were set in their ways, but even they had to come to terms that the world would never be the same after the war. Knowing it would fuel the contentious atmosphere of the house further, she carefully hand picked a modern streamlined dress from the wardrobe and carefully pulled it over to a tight fit. It was one of the few ways she had to fight back against her parents disapproval of her education by reminding them by her presence alone that times had moved on.
Quickly she gathered her school books into her school bag and tightened the straps. She knew that Professor Ashley had called upon her while she was sick and her mother had reasonably turned him away. Whatever he had wanted it must have been urgent in nature, she had to find out what it was as soon as possible. Sitting in the parlour at the bottom of the stairs was her mother, her crystal blue eyes piercingly watching her with disapproval and yet she maintained a polite trained smile as she watched her daughter come down the stairs.
Her mother was always ready to lecture her on her place in society. If it was not brought up daily then there was a bigger issue in the house. This morning her mother was sitting quietly, her small fingers wrapped around a tiny china glass of tea which she gingerly sipped. Helen Ritter was a lady of society, more modest than her peers, but a lady nonetheless.
"Are you really going out like that Victoria?" She eyed her daughter then looked back to a newspaper in her other hand, "I don't approve of this new fashion." Setting the cup down she merely shook her head and kept her gaze on the paper.
"I am going back to the school, I know you don't approve. Someone there may know how to stop these dreams, you most appreciate that I am doing this for us all." She watched her mother carefully, slightly alarmed when she didn't respond right away. "Victoria, we all want the best for you. A suitable husband would walk the earth to find you a cure. You are an adult now, it breaks my heart that you wish to live your life as a spinster. I have made an arrangement for you to meet a young man in a fortnight, you will like him darling." Stunned she simply adjusted the books over her shoulder desperately trying to find a rebuttal, when none came she started for the door and attempted to sound grateful for her mothers effort, "Thank you mother." Quickly she closed the door before more could be said she hurried down the stairs on to the path to school.
The walk to school was a blessing. The lanes leading to Miskatonic University were quiet and recently swept clean to a high standard. The school was the only place in town where she felt safe and at home. Living at home was still causing issues for her, the pressures of high society were digging into her nerves like a sharp dagger, the school was a reprieve. The long corridors and marble floors of the school were her Eden. The gardens and elms were her protectors. She spent nearly all of her time away from home in the outside areas of the school, if there was a quiet bench to sit upon or a stone to perch, she was there with a book and an apple.
She was at the school earlier than she had intended to be. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a small RSVP calling card highlighted in gold. On one side was the Miskatonic Logo, the other the name and address of Professor Ashley with a date and time neatly hand printed on the bottom. Of course she was now a week late, but as she was here it would not hurt to stop by the offices to apologise. Tilting the card she noticed a soft reflection of a symbol under the logo of the school, holding it up to the site she could almost swear it was familiar. Lost in contemplation she felt the pillar of the hallway hit her before she could figure out what was different about the card and its symbol, it gave off a light glow as it drifted to the floor of the corridor.
Rubbing her head lightly as she picked the card off the ground she hadn't heard one of the office doors opening across the hall, "Miss Ritter, are you ok? Do you need a nurse?" The concerned voice was that of Professor Ashley, he stood looking concerned at her as she gathered herself together and headed over to see him. "I am sorry Professor, I seem to have missed our appointment." He cleared his voice and smiled as he reached for the card from her, "You were ill, I came to call and ask how you were... your more, she is something special." Victoria couldn't help but smile, he was her favourite teacher in the entire Miskatonic. "Am I too late?" The door opened a bit more and a motion given for her to enter into his office, "Not at all, but it is still quite urgent and I do hope you are ready for some adventure in your life." She nodded and found a seat, "With no doubts. What is it?"
The office was musty and the furniture old. It smelled of cigars which made her scrunch her nose until she became accustomed to it. Books lined the shelves in neat orders, most made out of leather, the rest falling apart and appeared to be covered in linen or silk. The collection was mostly world travels and Anthropogenic in topic. He had a zest for learning about cultures and their effects on the world around them. She noticed he had obtained new books, the pile partially covered by a black cloth that found itself slipping off as the draft from the door followed them in. She leaned in curiously to read it, but as the Professor moved he noticed her curiosity and quickly covered them. "Victoria. I hope you are feeling better, I had wanted to follow up on your recent studies. However due to some recent news, I believe I have something more interesting to share with you.
Curiosity peeked she found herself sitting upright giving him her full attention. "I have something that will help further your career with the university in ways you will have never imagined." For a second she must have let herself appear confused, the professor passed by the window and looked over at her. "How much have you studied about the Tsalagi of North Carolina?" She smiled, her instincts as a student being asked a question kicked in, “Professor, I know they are from the Appalachian Mountains and that President Andrew Jackson forced them on to the trail of tears in 1830, among many other things.”
The Professor walked slowly to his desk, picking up a thin piece of paper, looking it over. Turning he looked her in the eyes before moving on to another chair, sitting down and lightly folding it over in his hands into a curl. “The history of the tribe is deeply rooted with many legends and lore, some of them are simply tales and some of them are hidden truths. Miss Ritter, do you like to travel?” Victoria nodded slowly, “When allowed and able, why?” Professor Ashley looks down at the paper in his hand and hands it over to her, letting it go with a slight pause of hesitation.
“Miss Ritter, you are at the top of your class in Ancient History and Anthropology. If you accept looking into the current situation in Hazel Creek and return to us with answers then I have been granted permission to accept you into a fellowship of the highest esteem that will allow you to follow your natural... talents.” Victoria felt shocked for a moment then held her head up, “Do you mean…?” Professor smiled slightly. “Correct Miss Ritter, The Miskatonic Society. So what do you say, will you go?” Victoria’s eyes looked down at the paper in her hands, the message so simple, so easy it didn’t make sense to be so important, “Yes Professor, I will.” He nodded slowly as he got up and moved over to a bookshelf pulling down a leather bound book, holding it out to her, “God speed Miss Ritter and good luck.”
Grasping the book in her hand she bowed her head slightly, looking over the cover with it’s gilded words ‘Tsalagi’, then sliding the telegraph over the top to contemplate what it meant, and what could possibly be wrong.
- - - - To be Continued - - - -
I hope you enjoyed chapter 1 of The Revelations of Hazel Creek: Victoria Ritter. Please consider becoming a patron to help support my writing and other efforts going on in our lives through our Eldritch Cocktail Lodge Patreon Page! Behind the scenes, any questions answered!
