Free Divine Vices by Melissa Parkin Page A

without waking her up. At last, she pulled them out
with one hand and grasped them firmly with the other to prevent them from jingling.
Gwen removed a large satchel she had tucked away in her duffle and gave Stacy a
thumbs up.
    Tiptoeing
over to the gym doors, we all filed out into the hallway. Gwen unlatched the
satchel and distributed several flashlights, along with a couple of electric
lanterns, despite the fact that there were still a few lights on overhead in
the corridors.
    We
slinked passed the main office and headed for the central staircase, taking us
to the second floor. Since no one intended on having us up there, and we didn’t
want to make our presence known, all the lights in the higher floors were
switched off. Everyone equipped turned on their light sources and we continued our
trek to the third story.
    “God,
this place is creepy,” muttered one girl.
    I
peered inside the classrooms as we passed, seeing an eerie glimmer from the
streetlights cast through the slatted blinds that highlighted all the empty
desks.
    “You
gonna clue me in yet?” I asked Gwen.
    “In
about sixty seconds, you’ll see for yourself,” she said merrily.
    On
the third floor of the west wing, we reached the library and Stacy instructed
us through the back door.
    “Dun,
dun, dun...” Trish echoed sinisterly, her flashlight beaming up from beneath
her chin to cascade the light forebodingly over her features. “Still scared?”
    “With
that face, it’s hard not to be,” I chuckled before she gave me a friendly
shove.
    Stacy
wedged a wooden block in between the door and the frame to prevent us from
getting locked inside. Everyone assisted in moving the couches and tables out
of the reading circle stationed at the front of the library, and we all took a
seat on the perimeter of the spherical rug.
    “We
are here tonight to pay tribute to the anniversary of our town. Most of you
have heard the tale, but for those of you who have not, allow me to educate
you,” said Trish, clearing her throat.
    “When
European settlers first arrived on the coast of Maine, they came to find that
the lands were already occupied by several Native American tribes, none of
which greeted them with open arms. As the Indian Wars ravaged the whole of the
country, this particular area was met with a massacre that wiped out both the
indigenous population and its foreign colonizers. The lands laid barren of all
inhabitation, until years later when an English group of settlers tried to
build township just south of here, a providence called Haven. These travelers
were prepared to fight for their newly obtained land, arriving with every last
piece of modern weaponry known to man.
    “Not
a single aboriginal came to claim the territory, but as soon as these eastern
travelers landed, devastating storms continually tore through the area. All
their attempts at architecture and agricultural harvest failed them, and they
soon found themselves in famine. To make matters worse, stories began to pass
around about a skeletal being lurking in the shadows of the woodlands just off
the coast. As more and more stories of this ghostly individual circulated, more
and more of the townspeople began to vanish, with their dismembered bodies
being discovered at the grave sites of the War’s casualties nearby the
following mornings.  Everyone was certain that the natives had to be behind the
acts, so they confronted the nearest tribe.
    “The
local chief told the settlers that they were not the ones responsible, and he
relayed a grisly tale, warning them that something far more blood lustful was
to blame. The reason why the natives never returned to these lands following
the massacre was because a creature, called the Baykok, had settled here. The
Baykok was said to be a demon, spawned from the blood of warriors, spilt during
battle. The Indian Wars had literally created what was said to be Death itself.
Armed with razor claws, glowing red eyes, and an appetite for destruction,