The Furies

Christina looked through her book a final time. The words were blurry and she choked on the dust that still covered it. It had only recently been pulled from her attic along with a few dozen others, she’d kept from her Wiccan days of college, eleven years ago. Jonathon had made fun of her sometimes, keeping the old useless spell books around. She’d laughed with him, but kept them nonetheless. They were expensive, and they had important sentimental value.

She wasn’t looking at them now to reminisce, she wanted vengeance. Her children dead in a car crash. Because Jonathon had wanted a few beers before leaving work to get them from school, Bobby and Mandy were dead. Jonathon had a few extra scars, some divorce papers, and walked free because of a lack of evidence. She couldn’t let that happen.

The few spells Christina tried in College had all failed. That hadn’t really mattered, she’d preferred the company to the beliefs. But this was her only hope of getting justice. She believed this time, she fuelled her fury with pictures of her smiling children covering the walls. Samantha had always said you needed belief and emotions to fuel the spells properly. If that was true her spell would be well fed.

Bobby and Mandy. Ten and eight years old. Trapped in the overturned car for five hours. Bleeding to death. As Jonathon had a concussion in the front seat. His blood alcohol level just .1 too low to charge him with drunk driving. She repeated the words in her head, letting the feelings of grief, rage and hatred fill her.

She began reciting the ancient Greek words. As she recited the first line her voice became deeper.

She spoke the second lines, the rage she had felt paled in comparison to the white heat that surged through her.

The third line rose from her throat, an animalistic growl replaced her voice.

The room shook when the fourth line tore through her.

Pictures flew from the wall, landing on the candles that lit the room. They erupted in flame. The ashes flew around the room, forming indistinct shapes on the walls. The ashes landing on her skin burned her flesh, she did not feel them.

The fifth line burned in the air, blistering her lips. She was beyond caring.

The sixth line was mimicked a dozen times, by a hundred voices.

The final line left her gasping on the floor, crying in pain and anguish. All the hate she had held inside vanished leaving her empty and cold.

Christina, shivering on the floor, gradually became aware of noises. A harsh rasping sound of metal scraping against metal came randomly to her ears. Slow and steady dripping sounds surrounded her. Clothes rustled. She smelled something like wet dogs, and a sharp smell of iron.

Every instinct in her screamed to keep her eyes closed. The cold, emptiness within her beckoned. Telling her to that if she just relaxed and allowed herself to drift away, she would never feel pain, humiliation, or fear ever again. Peace awaited her. Just keep the eyes closed.

Yet a small part of her mind, the part that had screamed for vengeance told her to open them. It no longer had the hate, and fury that had fuelled it only minutes before. But it showed her the face of her children. The path of peace would not lead her to them. They were gone, and to sink into the void would mean losing them forever. The insanity that had kept her going for so long dreaming of revenge, used her children against her once more.

She opened her eyes.

The room was dark. The candles had been extinguished, leaving only harsh acrid smoke. The window that should have let in the warm light of the sun seemed to have vanished. Faint hazy balls of light, floating randomly around the room, were the only illumination.

Three dark figures stood around her. They towered over her. Long, thick clumps of hair rose, swayed and fell from their heads. The clumps would collide, and hissing sounds filled the room, drops of liquid would fall and land on the floor. More liquid fell from their faces. It was too dark to see what was hitting the floor, or to make out any details. They wore long shapeless robes that covered their bodies, they were dark except around the hem and sleeves where bright silver bands stood out vividly in the darkness.

“We are Alecto,” one said.
“We are Megaera,” said another.
“We are Tisiphone,”said the third.

“Y-y-you’re the Furies?” Christina stammered.

“Furies,” one said.
“We do not approve,” said another.
“We do not like that name,” said the third.

“Call us by our other names.”
“The Erinyes.”
“The Kindly Ones.”

Christina couldn’t tell who was talking. The three spoke so exactly it was impossible to find any real difference between them. If it wasn’t for the slightest pause when the speakers switched she would have sworn there was only a single speaking person.

“She does not speak."
“She summoned us.”
“She fed use her hatred.”

“She does not believe.”
“She does not understand.”
“Yet she spoke the words.”

“Have we slept so long?”
“How could they have forgotten.”
"Who allowed them to forget?”

The three spoke as one, “Tell us, which God rules here?”

“No, no God rules here,” Christina answered.

The three moved forward. The repugnant smell of iron and dog flooded Christina’s nose. She tried not to gag.

“No Gods!”
“Who rules you?”
“Who speaks to you?”

“N-no. We follow the bible a little, but no God speaks to us.”

“Who gives you Laws?”
“Who watches the Dead?”
“Who keeps Order?”

“We make our own laws. The dead just die.” Christina wanted to run from the room screaming. The spell had said it would punish the person who spilled blood of their family. It hadn’t told her this would happen. “You aren’t suppose to exist.”

She felt the rage of the creatures around her. It hit her like a hundred hard fists, it enveloped her like water, choking her. She screamed in pain.

“WE EXIST! YOU SUMMONED US! YOU BELIEVED!” they screamed as one. “How long since the God’s walked the Earth?”

“I don’t know,” she whimpered. “God’s weren’t supposed to be real. You’re myths. Magic doesn’t exist. It was all games and trickery.”

“The Gods slept long.”
“All the Gods?”
“This world smells dead.”

“No true Laws.”
“No true Order.”
“No true Respect.”

“We are wrong.”
“You are right.”
“What do you mean?”

“The Gods awaken again.”
“Their Order exists again.”
“Their Laws exist again.”

“We must follow the Laws.”
“Follow the Orders.”
“Listen to our supplicant.”

The three knelt beside Christina. She squirmed away from the dog like muzzles that formed their mouths and noses. She screamed as dripping blood landed on her arms. Snakes rose from the creatures heads and snapped at her face and arms. Never quite touching her, but threatening.

“You must tell us of the crimes.”
“We must hear them from your mouth.”
“That will seal our agreement.”

“I-I thought you would know already,” Christina protested.

“We know.”
“We have seen.”
“We will agree.”

“But we must hear your words.”
“It is the Law.”
“It is our Order.”

Christina swallowed. It wasn’t suppose to be like this. Why did she have to tell them what Jonathon did if they already knew? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.

The three snarled. A snake lunged for her eye.

“What do you know of Law?”
“What do you know of Order?”
“What do you know of Right?”

“The Gods have slept too long.”
“Humans believe they make rules.”
“They do not understand.”

“I’m sorry!” Christina screamed. “I’ll tell you the crimes Jonathon committed. I’m sorry.”

“Speak.”
“Leave nothing out.”
“We will listen.”

Christina began telling them of her husband. She told them how he drank too much. How he knew that he couldn’t drive after drinking. Crying she said how he had promised not to drink seven months ago when he had to pick the kids up from school. But he had lied. Barely able to walk he had picked the kids up from school, and driven them down the back roads to their house well outside the city. He took the wrong road, and didn’t realize a sharp turn was coming up.

Shaking and sobbing she related how they had gone over the embankment. The car had flipped. By some malicious miracle the back end landed on rocks caving the roof in. Crushing her babies. They had lived for an hour or so crushed and bleeding to death upside down. Jonathon was luckier. He had suffered a concussion, and lived.

By the time rescuers arrived most of the alcohol had left his system. His lawyer had the case thrown out. He lived, her children died. He had killed them unintentionally, but he had killed them. He had the blood of his children on his hands. He was a kin slayer.

“You have told us the crime.”
“We agree to the punishment.”
“He will die.”

They vanished and light flooded the room. Dried blood lay on the floor and the pictures of her children were scorched on the wall. She felt dirty. Worse she felt devoid of all emotion. The driving force that had let her survive was gone, taken by the Furies. Even the coldness that had offered her peace was gone.

She lay on the floor, wondering quite calmly if she should even bother getting up again. Her children were dead. Their murderer would die soon. Why should she keep going? Knives were downstairs in the kitchen. Or there were the pain pills in the medicine cabinet. If she crawled to the window there was the cement patio three floors down. She tried to decide which would be the easiest way.

A small voice kept trying to intrude. She ignored it for a while. She crawled to the window, letting the dying light shine on her for a while longer. But it became too insistent. It was easier just to let it speak, and then open the window one last time.

It was the voice of Mandy. Christina knew it wasn’t really Mandy. She had had many conversations with the voice after the accident. It had been the voice that finally convinced her to summon the Furies. The voice had always offered good advice in the past. She listened as it spoke to her.

It spoke of watching the destruction of Jonathon. Laughing at his downfall and dancing on his grave. It warned her that the spell was old and the Furies had been confused. They might not get the job done. Christina shook her head at that thought. Christina had to live; to finish it if the Furies failed. Then she could rest. But she had to make sure justice had been truly served.

Finally the voice fell silent. Christina smiled and nodded her head in agreement. The Furies had said humans knew nothing of laws and order. They may have been right. But Christina knew the rights of blood. And she would make sure Jonathon paid.