I

            Deep between two mountain ranges was a place called the valley of Lyr. In it was a small mining village, old and broken, a ghostly memory of a more prosperous time. A series of harsh winters had cut off the village from its lifeblood, the city of Lyra at the head of the valley. This village had no name other than the Village, and its people were much the same. No one stood out as special, no one did anything spectacular, because there was nothing to do but tend the fields and clean up the wastes of the old mine.

Maybe it was the remoteness of the Village, maybe the deep revenge in It’s heart that drew It in. It skulked like a shadow within the spindly trees of the valley. When the morning fog rolled down the mountains and blanketed itself over the listless forest, It moved just as silent, looking for prey. With winter fast approaching, It did not have much to find, and for a long time, It began to starve. It wouldn’t die, of course. Nothing as evil as the Belldame can die, but it would fall back asleep. It had just awoken from its most recent slumber, a state it had endured for the last fifty years. To go to sleep again, so soon, would make it weaker the next time it rose.

The Belldame did not like the taste of failure.

 

On the first week of winter, a boy named Garret Scout was walking home from a friends house. The sun was setting, though the only markers were the glowing pink clouds that covered the sky in a blanket of warmth. As bright as the sky looked, though, Garret was cold, and he started to hurry home. He knew that if it got dark and he wasn’t inside, his mother would instill the lesson of his timely return with fist and and paddle. Often, she had warned him of the wolves that prowled the forest during the winter, but it had been years since anyone had seen one. The older kids said so, and who was Garret to dispute them. They were right, there were no wolves in the forest.

There was something much, much worse.

When Garret could see his house, a round window lit up from inside by the candle on the dining room table, he breathed a sigh of relief. His parents would be angry, but it was still light, so he hadn’t broken any rules. Behind him, he heard a crackle in the trees, a branch and twigs snapping under a light weight. He spun around to look, but saw only the darkness. The darkness and two, glowing white eyes in the shadows.

“Dear boy, would you like to see something strange?” The voice was beautiful, a woman’s voice that reminded him of his mother on her good days.

He smiled, but took a second to look back towards his house. “I don’t think so. i have to get home before dark.” He turned to look at the glowing eyes, and saw that a face had grown around them.

A woman stood there, beautiful with pale skin and a black dress. She wore a shawl over her shoulders, made of thick wool and a shiny fabric he had never seen before. She smiled at him, her cheeks turning rosy as she coyly looked away. “Are you sure? It is a splendid sight.”

Garret wanted to go with this woman. No travelers came through the Village anymore, not for the last hundred years, at least according to the older kids. The sense of something new was tempting, but he knew his mother too well. He knew what would happen if he wasn’t home by dark.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t. My mother would-” but he stopped talking. The woman’s smile had faded and her color had become even more pale than before, almost see-through. Her skin began to tighten, and her limbs began to grow.

“What?” was all that he could say.

The woman-monster grew monstrously huge, her limbs like the skinny trees around them and her face like a withered apple, wrinkling and curling in on itself. Panic locked him in place, and he felt all thoughts of fleeing leave his mind.

The Belldame reached her hand down and caressed the boys face. “Are you afraid?”

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even blink. A tear raced down his cheek, and for a brief moment, he regained control of his body. He nodded.

She smiled, her teeth showing in the twilight as black fangs, the color of the night sky. Like a purr, she asked, “Do you want to see what I have to show you?”

He collapsed to his knees. “Please don’t hurt me.”

She lifted his chin so that she could look him in the eyes. Her face became human once more, a softness that reminded him of his mother. “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” He felt a brief glimmer of hope, like the fleeting patter of raindrops before the hurricane. Her face turned even more terrible than it had been before. “I am only going to kill you.”

With a single swipe, his head was removed from his body, and the Belldame began to feast.

 

II

            Like any girl of the Village, Veronica was horrified that Garret Scout had been found dead. That was the story that she had heard, anyway, as the body that was found was only a puzzle of bones and flesh. His head, though, had been discovered nearby, untouched but for the absolute terror that was frozen on his face.

A curfew was set over the village, and that made Veronica angry, as scary as it was. She had wanted to go with her friends to the old mine, far beyond the last houses, but her mother forbade her from leaving their home without her permission. This wasn’t as bad, for Veronica lived in the village center where the few stores from the old days still survived. There was a candy shop, the general store, and the tailor’s, all which held unusually interesting items. The tailor’s was Veronica’s favorite, as she had begun learning the trade for herself, but even so, it was not enough.

Mary, Veronica’s best friend, had told her of the amazing things that she and some of the boys she spent time with had discovered in the mines, not to mention some of the things that they had done in their hormone fueled, adolescent stupidity. She was envious of Mary, who was two years older than her, but wouldn’t let a simple murder get in the way of her evening the playing field.

It had become a game between them, a vying of power to see who would have a higher standing by the end of the day, week, month. It had begun when Veronica received her first kiss before Mary. Then Mary had stolen a bottle of alcohol from Old Woman Thompson, who rarely left her house anymore.

Mary taunted Veronica with these adventures and temptations, and finally, she gave in. Only a week after Garret’s untimely and gruesome death, Veronica and Mary decided that they would sneak out at night to go to the mines with a few of the boys from Dirt Street near the edge of the village.

It had been a simple escape. Veronica’s parents trusted her to not do something so obviously stupid, but a fifteen year old’s mind is made up as soon as the thought comes forward.

Under the cloak of darkness and the lightly falling snow, the two teens made their way through the forest to Dirt Street. The boys were waiting there, wrapped in leather and fur.

They greeted one another, and Mary introduced her to them. The tall one was Jason, a blacksmith who often worked on the small train that came through the valley to deliver supplies to the village. The other was Manuel, a toughly built boy just a little bit taller than Veronica. Both looked to be at least nineteen or twenty, but Veronica didn’t care. The excitement and adventure eradicated any of her concerns.

They made their way to the old mine following a path that had been carved out by miners long ago when the mine still operated. It was rough and uneven, but the concrete step stones were still sturdy enough to guide them through the tricky terrain of the forest.

Like a lumbering beast rising from the earth, the most notorious mountain in the valley rose before them. Crow’s Peak, standing at exactly two miles tall, was the only notable thing near the Village. It was shaped like a beak, gently curving to a wicked point in the sky. At its base, the old mines burrowed into its belly to extract the rich iron ore beneath it. At least, they used to.

They finally reached the concrete platform of the mining base. It wasn’t very big, about the size of a tennis court, but it was sturdy and had seen many decades of use. The wheels of old minecarts had dug thin grooves into the stone, and now a pattern of a hundred curved lines wove across the surface of the platform like the weaving of some great fabric. All of them led to a single point, the mine vault door.

After it had been decommissioned, the mine had many accident as kids and teens went in to explore. After the first death, the mine was sealed with a big, iron door, often just called the vault, to stop others from entering. The only thing that held it closed, though, was a single chain, and it didn’t take long for teens to come back and break back in.

Jason went forward and grabbed a pickaxe, breaking the chain again like he had the last time he had been there with Mary. One, two, three strikes, and the lock that held it closed burst into a cloud of metal and pins. Without any prompting, the door silently opened outward, showing them the shadows within. He threw the pick away and took Mary’s hand, motioning for them to enter. Though hesitant, Veronica wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, and all four of them walked freely into the bowels of Crows Peak.

They had no idea that not all of them would return.

 

III

            They had traveled through the winding paths of the mine for what seemed like hours, though one had not even passed. Jason used a small lantern he had found at the entrance, and lead the way with Mary in tow.

Manuel was quiet, but he held Veronica’s hand. To the inexperienced girl, she liked the feeling, though she had nothing to compare it to. Her hesitation was nonexistent, and further melted away every time a noise echoed in the stone halls and she jumped into him. He would hold her to protect her from the noises, but would let go whenever she pulled away. She was becoming more and more comfortable with him by the time they entered the main chamber.

Jason led them to the center of the stone room, lighting a few lanterns as he did. As they got comfortable on the wooden benches left behind by the miners, he hung the lanterns around the three passages that led from the chamber, placing two by the entrance they had come from. Taking some of the abandoned wood from the old rails that used to litter the chamber, he built a fire and moved the benches closer together.

Mary was the first to speak. “So, what do you think?” She looked at Veronica expectantly, waiting for her to admit how impressed she was.

“It’s okay. Kind of creepy in my opinion.” She smiled to show that she was joking, and all of them laughed. She looked around at the ruined remains that the old miners had left behind. There was some machinery, though she knew not what any of it did. What took up most of the room around the edges of the chamber, though, were the torn up rails of the minecarts they had used. “What do you do down here?”

The innocence that had pervaded Veronica’s life was entirely absent in Mary. Mary laughed and turned to Jason. “Isn’t it obvious?” She leaned forward and kissed him, and he kissed her back. Soon, they were tangled up in each other, arms tight and hands exploring.

Manuel leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, but Veronica was distracted by something. Down one of the halls, there was something shining. She stood to get a better look.

Manuel was confused. “What is it?”

She took a step away from the bench and around the fire, and Mary and Jason broke their passion to look at her. “What are you doing?” asked Mary.

Veronica kept looking at the shining object as she spoke. “I see something down that hallway. Something shiny.”

Jason disentangled himself from Mary and stood to look down the hall. “I’ve never seen that before.” Mary joined him and so did Manuel. They all stood in silence, looking at the shiny object, trying to decipher what it is. Jason turned away to look at them. “I’ve never really been down that tunnel to be honest. There were warnings all over the entrance about possible collapses and other dangers. I didn’t want to risk it.”

Mary slapped his arm lightly. “Coward.” She turned to Veronica with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Want to go see it?”

The shining object wasn’t particularly enticing to Veronica, it acutely made her stomach uneasy, but the challenge was undeniable. If she backed down now, Veronica would never be able to get a leg up on Mary again. She nodded and walked over to the entrance of the hall, pulling the lantern from the wall.

All four of them walked down the hall, this time with Veronica and Mary in the lead. The closer they got to the shining object, the more they realized that it was not one thing, but many things. When finally they were close enough to touch it, they realized what it was.

“It looks like a wall,” said Manuel.

Veronica placed her hand on it. “I think that it is made of those rails in the chamber back there.” She looked at it, tracing the paths of the metal as they were embedded in the wall. “But why is it here?”

“It’s a cage.”

The voice came from behind them, and they all whirled around to see its source. Maybe ten yards from them, a woman stood there. She wore all black, a ragged dress and a stained shawl of wool and silk. She was beautiful, but none of them knew her, and with how small the village was, that concerned them.

Jason took a step in front of the group. “Who are you?”

The woman smiled and took a step forward, though she didn’t seem to move at all. “No one you would know, dear boy.”

“You said a cage?” Veronica asked, a moment of curiosity getting the better of her.

The woman nodded. “Yes, I did.”

“For what?” she asked.

Mary turned around on her, face flushed in anger. “Shut up, will you.” She turned back to the woman. “What do you want?”

Her smile widened, and she continued to look at Veronica. “The cage was for me.” Like that, the lantern went out, and they were plunged into darkness. Jason reached over to Veronica for it, but froze as the woman started laughing.

Mary screamed her question again. “What do you want with us you bitch?”

The laughter continued, the tone echoing against the stone like the tappings of ghosts.”You silly child.” Though it was pitch black, the white eyes of the Belldame were still visible, two glowing orbs of pearlescent light.

Jason tried to be rational. “Just let us go so that we can go home. I know we aren’t supposed to be here.”

The laughter continued, growing louder and higher in pitch. The sound made shivers run through the whole group, and they started feeling the first inkling of fear.

“What do you mean the cage is for you?” Veronica asked.

The laughter cut off, and they could hear almost a low purring. The Belldame giggled like a little girl. “For the things that I have done.”

“What things?” Veronica asked.

Again, the Belldame giggled. “The same things I am going to do to you right now.”

Marry screamed then, and so did Jason. Veronica ducked down to the ground and grabbed the lantern. She felt warm liquid splash over her arm, but she didn’t stop. She held the switch on the side and turned the nozzle, and the hall lit up. She didn’t even hesitate to start running, Manuel’s hand in hers, until she realized that Mary and Jason weren’t following.

She turned around and saw something that would haunt her until the day that she died.

The Belldame was standing over Mary, who was lying on the ground, headless. Repeatedly, the woman would dip her hands into the abdomen of Veronica’s friend and pull out the bloody guts and bring it to her mouth. Her jaw opened far further than it should have, the bones popping apart and widening, becoming a gaping maw of darkness. The Belldame gulped down the gore with delight. Behind her, Jason was just standing there, staring at the horror, unmoving.

“Jason! Come on!” screamed Manuel, but Jason didn’t move.

The Belldame looked up from her small meal at the two standing down the hall from her. Her form had changed, her face had grown gaunt and the skin tight while her limbs had grown like twisting tendrils of shadow at dusk. She stared at them and Veronica could feel Manuel’s hand freeze around her own.

She felt the fear race its way through her as she stared at the terrible face of the Belldame, and for a moment, she could see that it had two, one of a monster and one of a woman. They were not the same, but they occupied her face simultaneously.

Veronica ripped her hand from Manuel’s, who was still frozen in place, and she fled. She ran and ran, up the stone corridors, until she finally came to the vault. She slammed the door behind her and grabbed an old rail from outside, slipping it into the handle to lock the door. She fled through the night, down the step stones and into the village, screaming like some demons was  growing within her lungs. By the time she collapsed in the village center, she could scream no more. Her mother found her first, and brought her inside. She was covered in blood.

 

Back down in the mines, the Belldame finished her feast, but she was angry. She was more than angry, she was furious. On top of her rage, though, she felt something she hadn’t felt in fifty years. Fear.

Fear of the girl who wasn’t afraid.

 

IV

            It took three days for Veronica to wake. She had been changed and washed and fed milk, drizzled by cloth into her mouth. As much care as her parents provided, she still slept, locked in horrible nightmares, memories of the Belldame’s carnage. She relived those moments, over and over, finding no escape from the terror.

On the third night, she awoke screaming Mary’s name, but as soon as her eyes opened, she knew that Mary was dead, as well as the two boys she had barely met. Her parents questioned her, asked her what had happened though the bodies had already been recovered. She wouldn’t speak, she was too afraid to make true the horrors that she had seen.

That night, she was brought in secret to the village’s oldest resident, Marlin Cane.

Cane’s house was musty and unkempt, with a layer of dust thick enough to leave footmarks in. Marlin was much the same as his house at the age of one-hundred and seven, though he had a vitality in his eyes, the only remnant of his younger years. When Veronica first arrived, they left her alone with him. He didn’t ask her any questions about what had happened. He didn’t ask her how she was feeling. All he did was ask, “Do you want some tea?”

She didn’t answer, but he poured her a cup anyway. It was minty and sweet as honey, and warm enough to fight off the winter cold. For hours, they sat in silence, and eventually she started to drink the tea.

“I don’t know what I saw.” Those were the only words she had spoken, and after such a long silence with Cane, she felt comfortable to say them.

“I know,” Cane replied.

For another long while, they sat in silence drinking their tea. Veronica had began to look about the room instead of at her hands. The walls were decorated with many paintings and shelves of books, each as dusty as the rest of his house. Finally, again Veronica broke the silence.

“I don’t even know if I saw what I saw.”

Cane took a long sip of his tea. “You did.”

She sipped her tea as well, and without her notice, tears started to fall from her eyes. “How do you know?”

“I’ve seen it too,” he said.

She stood, knocking her cup to the ground. “You’ve seen it?”

He nodded and pointed behind her. She turned and looked to see a picture there. It was black and white and showed a large group. She turned back to him. “That isn’t what I saw.”

He nodded and took another sip of his tea. “I know its not, I have seen what you have seen. All those people in that picture have as well.”

She turned to look again. She went over and touched the glass of the frame. It was a group portrait, some fifty people dressed in old-fashioned clothing. “How old is this?” she asked without looking at him. Her fingers had left trails in the dust.

“It’s about sixty years old,” he said, setting his cup down. “I’m on the far left, with the rifle.”

She looked and saw him. He looked to be about forty then, but already balding. He was strong though, at least he used to be.

She turned around and sat back down in her chair. She stared at him intently. “What was it that I saw?”

The fear had left her and her tears had dried up. She had found a hidden strength as she looked at the people in the picture. “What did I see?”

“The Belldame.”

“What is it?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “We never really knew, we just knew its name and what it does.”

“What does it do?” she asked.

“It kills and then it eats. And when it is done with those two things, it sleeps.”

She leaned back in her chair. She was staring at him intently. “Why couldn’t my…,” she started to say, but her words caught in her throat. She felt the fear from the previous night fill her and she almost started to sob again.

“Why couldn’t your friends run away?” he asked, catching her off guard. She nodded, a little stunned at how he knew. “They were under her spell.” He reached under his chair and pulled out an old book, bound in leather and embossed with spider webs.

“What is that?” she asked, looking at the archaic tome.

“Have a look.” He handed the book to her. It was heavier than she had imagined. Carved on the front cover, she read the world aloud. “The Book of Bedlam.”

Cane shifted in his chair at the words. “That is correct. The Book of Slaughter. It is the entire recorded history of the Belldame of Lyr Valley.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, confusion flooding her face. As far as she knew, the village was only as old as the mine, which was relatively young compared to other mines.

He sat forward in his chair. “This village is much older than you know. It used to be a town, and before that, a city. The lands of Lyr were filled with farms and industry, from Crow’s Peak to the head of the valley.”

She leaned forward. “What happened?” He didn’t speak but to point to the book in her hands. She looked down to it, now trembling as she realized. She looked at him. “The Belldame.”

He nodded. “There is nothing I can tell you that the book won’t except that I am sorry. I am sorry you had to face her. Even worse, I am sorry you had to see what she truly was.” He rubbed his scratchy chin. “If I may ask, how did you escape?”

She looked down to the book again, hiding her face with her dark hair. “I just ran away.”

“Just ran away?” he asked, incredulous.

“Yeah. I looked at its faces and then I ran away.”

“Faces?”

“It has two… doesn’t it?” She asked, looking to him. Tears had started to fall again as she remembered the beautiful mask and the horrifying true face of the Belldame.

Cane only stared for a moment before standing, though it looked like he had some difficulty. He offered his hand to her and she stood as well. He pointed to the book. “You must never show this to anyone, not even your parents, under my orders. And whatever you do, never speak about the Belldame to anyone but me. There are others who know of it, primarily the older residents, but you mustn’t speak to them. We have our defenses up, and that will buy time.”

“Time until what?” she asked, shivering.

“Before she comes.”

With that, Cane ushered her from the room. Veronica was escorted by her parents to their house and never asked a question. They left Veronica by herself, allowing her space.

The next day, Veronica read the book cover to cover, learning as much as she could. Cane had been right.

Lyr was much older than she had known.

 

V

            The Valley of Lyr used to be a great province, filled with multiple mining operations and a vast swathe of farmland that brought in such bountiful harvests that everyone in the valley ate like royalty. They had been mining gold and silver, iron and copper, gemstones and crystals. The people there were equally as impressive, having culture and science that far surpassed any that were near them, outshining even the brightest inventors from far away.

This industriousness was amazing to others, but it was all that they could do to hide the horrors of their reality, for most of its existence was plagued by the dark shadow of the Belldame.

There were not many eye witness accounts recorded in the Book of Bedlam, so most of the information inside was an aggregation of many generations of stories. In total, there were three journal entries from those who had seen the Belldame first hand.

The first was Salvi Morano. She was a midwife from the city of Lyra who lived almost five hundred years before Veronica’s time.

 

It came in the night. With willowy limbs made of darkness, she devoured the children first. They tried to run, but it caught them. Her eyes were white, like some unnatural demon was staring from behind them. She reaved and cut those who couldn’t flee, and whenever someone looked directly into her eyes, they froze in fear.

            I lost my Mally last night to the monster. He was only eleven, and she cut his head off and devoured his body. I could only watch from the window, hoping that his death had been quick.

            I think I am going to die. I think my children are going to die.

           

Oh, god almighty, please help us.

 

In the time of Salvi, more than six thousand people died over a time of four years. The Belldame was not so widely known then, and she reaped the benefits that came with anonymity. Salvi and her family, along with hundred of other families, all perished as the Belldame swept through Lyra like a plauge.

The next account came from Father Halloway Martin.

 

The monster, what we have found to be called a Belldame, has claimed over a hundred lives in this past week. I have read the accounts and stories from before my time, and I think there is a pattern. The Belldame does not take anything other than what she eats, so I think she comes in cycles. What those cycles are based off of, I do not know, but all she does is feed and sleep.

            My congregation has deserted the village, and I do not blame them. I just hope that they are safe wherever they are.

            I wonder if God is punishing us, or if the Devil has gained free reign over us. I only hope that some angel can strike this Belldame down and deliver us from its torture.

 

In all the accounts collected, no one could really agree on how old it was, but most would concede that it was over a thousand years in age. From the earliest recordings of the valley, the Belldame had been present. Sometimes, a generation would face her twice, some generations never even heard her name, but one constant was that when she did arrive, many would die.

One theorist had stated that the Belldame became stronger the more prosperous Lyr became. Another said that she only showed more of her strength as the valley began to fight more effectively.

The Belldame was indeed powerful, though, as she had brought on the year of blood.

The year of blood was the fall of the great Lyr valley. The rulers of Lyra had agreed to trap the Belldame in the valley and hunt her down, having discovered a story about Belldames that said they could be killed. Great walls were built inside of the mountains, blocking off all traffic, and finally the head of the valley was sealed off.

Humanity has always though itself capable, and indeed thought itself more than enough to trap the Belldame with them.

They didn’t know then that it was them that were trapped.

The audacity of their attempt angered the Belldame when she awoke, and for a years time, she rampaged through the valley, killing and devouring everyone she encountered. It soon became apparent that she could not be fled from, as those she faced were filled with such fear that they could no longer move.

By the end of the year, almost fifteen-thousand people had died, most torn apart and devoured by the monstrous Belldame. The cobbled streets were no longer the ashen color of stone, but tainted with the iron red of blood.

She fell into a slumber, having filled her hunger, and disappeared for a hundred more years.

The valley of Lyr did not forget her, but did not know what to do when she returned. That was until Madame Gelly was born. By the time that the monster had awoken, Madame Gelly had prepared the village she lived in to defend itself. She had told them that the Belldame would come for them, and she was right.

The Belldame was audacious enough to walk the streets of the village with open arms, calling to the people living there to come meet her, a visitor. The only person she faced was Madame Gelly, now a fifty-year-old woman.

The Belldame had tried to devour Gelly, but her fear tricks didn’t work, and Gelly remained unperturbed by the Belldame’s powers. This angered the Belldame, as Gelly knew it would, and she led it in a grand chase through the forest, all the way to the mines at Crow’s Peak. She ran down the dark, twisting corridors, the Belldame only just behind her. But Gelly was unafraid, for she knew about the trap.

When they had entered the first landing, Gelly had taken the left passage, which was littered with warnings about possible collapse. Down and down they went, until finally Gelly turned to face the Belldame.

The monster had all but thought itself the victor in this encounter until the trap was sprung and the metal rails that used to be in the mine formed a wall behind her. The Belldame taunted Gelly, saying that she was trapped in there with her, but Gelly was, again, unafraid. It is assumed that Gelly was killed by the Belldame and consumed, but she had been okay with that plan. The Belldame would be trapped in there forever, locked in by the metal bars and a spell that Gelly had created before he death.

The mine was condemned and a magical lock had been placed on the vault door, one of the only entrances to the prison of the Belldame.

The prison that Jason and Mary had opened on their first foray into the abandoned place.

The third and final account was written by Marlin Cane himself.

 

            Today, we have lost the most courageous person in the valley of Lyr. Madame Gelly of Lyra was able to lead the Belldame into a trap at the cost of her own life, so it is assumed. The old mine was the perfect place, and whatever Gelly did to keep the monster there seems to be working.

            Some men went to Crows Peak Mine to insure that the trap had worked, and boy did they come back frightened. According to them, when they came to the vault, all they heard was a high keening, almost a screaming, deep from within the mines. One of the men, Ricky, said that he thought he heard it in his head.

            Tomorrow we are holding a vigil for the Belldame’s victims, all those that have lost their lives to her since the beginning of time. It is hard to find the right number, but some estimate that she has claimed over a hundred-thousand lives. That is far too many, and I hope that Gelly was able to stop it forever.

            I have been entrusted as keeper of the Book of Slaughter, and I hope that when I die, no one else has to read it.

            But most of all, I hope that the Belldame is the only one of her kind. The darkness is scary enough, it is so much worse when the darkness can devour you.

 

By the time Veronica had finished the book, one sentence stood out from all the rest. It was not history or an explanation, it was the final hope of the great leaders of Lyra a century ago.

Her fingers ran over the letters as she read it. “The Belldame can only be killed how it would kill that which it eats.”

Veronica laid the book down and went downstairs to her parents’ tool room. She searched for a moment before finding the red handle of what she was looking for. She pulled it out of its sheath, a machete half as tall as Veronica was, and slid it into her belt.

She would cut the Belldame’s head off.
She would do it for Mary. For Jason. For Manuel. For Garret.

Most of all, she would do it for Gelly, her grandmother.

 

VI

            Veronica’s parents didn’t see her leave and received no goodbye from their daughter. She slipped out of her window down onto the snowy street. Up above, the clouds had broken to show a half-moon. Veronica reveled in its sight, knowing that it could be the last time she sees it.

She followed the stone path into the forest, each step muted by the cushion of soft snow, powdery from the night’s earlier flurries. She tried not to let her fear stop her from what she was going to do, for if she did not do this, then more people would die. She had to be like Gelly.

When she reached the vault, she gently pulled the door open, its hinges silent in the quiet night. She grabbed a lantern off the wall and lit it, closing the heavy door behind her. She followed the passage down, seeing each item anew for the first time in a week.

How things had changed.

She made her descent in silence, thinking only of how to get close enough to the Belldame to cut off her head. She imagined rushing towards it and getting her head sliced off by the monster’s wicked hands. She imagined sneaking up on it only to get her guts ripped out of her stomach.

Finally, she decided on a plan of action, hoping to whatever gods existed that it would work.

She entered the chamber that Jason had shown her and stopped to look at how it was still the same as when she had been sitting there before, ready to kiss and maybe even sleep with Manuel. Now she returned as a frightened lamb, shaking with every noise that echoed in the empty stone mine.

A frightened lamb with a machete.

The Belldame came sooner than she had thought she would. Down from the tunnel where the massacre had occurred. She was smiling, more at ease than she had ever been.

“You’re a brave one, aren’t you?” she said warmly.

Veronica put down the lantern on one of the wooden benches and drew her machete. “I know what you are, Belldame.”

A shiver of ecstasy ran through the Belldame as she heard her name. “It has been so long since I have heard that word. I do so enjoy it when I hear it.”

She was smiling, and in that moment, Veronica could not deny that the Belldame was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Her skin was aglow in the lantern-light, flushed pink in joy. Her hair was black as night, but shown in the orange glow with a vibrancy she had never seen. What caught Veronica most was the eyes, two green orbs like her own that gleamed like polished emerald.

Veronica squeezed the handle of the machete. “I’ll say a name that you will like. Madame Gelly Arduino.” The Belldame’s smile disappeared and the beauty she had possessed slowly faded. Again, Veronica could see the double face of the Belldame, the human and the monster.

The Belldame took a step forward, but Veronica raised the machete in front of her, though the impact was lessened by the quacking in the blade. The Belldame laughed. “Afraid, are we?” There was no amusement in her words, but an anger.

“Of course I am. That is what you do, isn’t it? Monster.” Veronica spat her words in frightened fury.

The beauty started to return to the Belldame as she calmed. She looked at Veronica with an intense stare. “Apparently not to everyone.” The Belldame’s face shifted then, losing the human portion. All that was left behind was a monstrous face beyond description, a face so terrible that Veronica only wanted to look away and flee.

The moment that she had been waiting for had arrived.

She let the terror show on her face and she locked her body. She willed herself to not move, to not even breathe. She let herself freeze in fear, just as Mary and Jason, Manuel and Garret had.

The Belldame smiled as she realized Veronica’s fear. She advanced slowly, allowing more of her human visage to shed away. Her arms began to grow, same as her legs. They had been full and shapely before, but now they became grotesque and twisted. The color leached away from its skin until it was left lifeless and grey. Her face grew longer and more gaunt, the skin tightening painfully over the bone. Her fingers became claws and her teeth became fangs. She kept advancing, slowly, relishing the moment before killing.

Veronica waited, willing herself to be completely still with horror on her face, for the moment that she had come down there for. When the Belldame was only a few feet away, Veronica acted.

The machete lashed out and connected with the Belldame’s neck. The metal sunk in, slicing apart whatever substance the monster was composed of. The flesh rent where the blade struck, and the Belldame collapsed to the floor. She was violently twitching, but her head was still connected.

Veronica stood over her, looking down on the dying creature, and raised her machete.

A voice like smoke entered her mind. If you kill me, you will die too.

Veronica paused, waiting for more words, but none came. She stared down at the Belldame, their eyes meeting. The monster looked truly afraid, and Veronica, so courageous in that moment, hesitated.

She had been prepared for death when she came down there alone. She didn’t say goodbye to her parents, because she knew that it would break her. She didn’t say goodbye to Cane or the other elders, because she knew they would stop her. She didn’t even say goodbye to her cat, because the thought of death scared Veronica so bad that it shook her to the core.

Did she really want to die to kill this monster?

But her hesitation vanished when the Belldame again smiled. Veronica brought down the machete with as much force as she could, separating the rest of the flesh.

She felt the slice, but felt no pain, and was enveloped by blackness before her heart had even stopped.