OPHELIA: Chapter 50
Blurb
Elizabeth Lockwick wants one thing… to ensure Ophelia remains dead.
For years she’s weaved a life seen through rose-coloured glasses in idyllic Vermont with her husband Sebastian Lockwick, an alluring man with a broken moral compass, whose intent lies in protecting his wife. However, apart from her unorthodox understanding of Sebastian’s dark and gritty hidden nature, she finds herself slipping away from her sanity in maintaining this picturesque life.
After receiving a gruesome gift from an unknown sender threatening to expose her, she finds herself haunted and possibly hunted by her buried past.
In order to make things right for herself and ensure that her secret is hidden, she reluctantly travels back to her sleepy small hometown in Wisconsin. A town where young girls seem to be mysteriously disappearing. There, she reunites with the dysfunctional Pierre-Louis’, a French-American family who sheltered her in their manor in her time of need.
With time slipping away, she struggles with her guilt and a dangerous affair and realizes that perhaps Ophelia wasn’t dead after all these years.
Elizabeth suddenly finds herself caught in a game of cat and mouse, unsure of which she really is this time and who she can trust.
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Chapter 50
“They did what to him!” Charlie shouted in annoyance, getting off the bed. “Fucking hell, they’ve all gone to shit, this town.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Vivian muttered to herself as she sat in the armchair at the corner of the room.
“We have to do something, we can’t just sit here,” Ophelia suggested. She looked at the dusty broken clock that hung above the bedframe. 9:37pm. This truly was the longest day she’d ever experienced in her entire life. An abrupt knock echoed at the door. “Ophelia, are you in there?” A voice she knew all too well. A voice she was literally dying to hear. Her feet shot towards the door where she pulled it open to see Stefan standing there. He was bruised but not as bloody as Charlie.
“Was everyone trying to get killed today?” Vivian scowled as she too looked at his image.
“Stefan,” Ophelia breathed.
He sighed as he took a few steps in and exchanged looks with Charlie, “Rough day?” He tried to joke at his bandaged, shirtless friend.
“You have no idea,” Charlie said with a soft bitter laugh and sat back down at the edge of the bed, feeling a shot of pain run through his body.
“So, what now?” Vivian asked as she stood, “Ophelia’s right, we can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
“Well for the basics and to ensure that we’re all on the same page, all those horrible stories we’ve been hearing about this town when we were children were all true,” Charlie began, “I’ve been doing some homework just before they tried to kill me today. Plagetis Patriarch is the name of the cult. Half the men of this town are a part of it. People we know, people we don’t know. There’s no question to it.”
“Why was Sally involved then?”
“The same reason Elaine and my mother must have been, not so?” Vivian implied.
“Yes,” Charlie frowned, “Some for traditional reasons and some for new purposes I suppose. Whether it’s to sacrifice them or impregnate them or- I don’t know- it’s-” he stopped with a sigh, “But I do know someone who may know.”
“Dew?” Stefan asked.
“The librarian?” Both women inquired simultaneously.
Charlie nodded. “I think we should pay her a visit.”
“Well,” Vivian snatched up her last bottle, “Let’s not waste time, they drop dead like flies in this town.”
Just as Vivian said, they wasted no time and headed to each of their cars. “Let me drive your car to Dew’s. You go with Pierre-Louis, it seems like you both have some catching up to do.”
“I should drive Charlie’s, he’s injured.”
“No,” Charlie suddenly answered from behind her, “I feel better, I can drive fine with my right hand anyway. Trust me.”
“Alright, just- be careful.”
Ophelia walked over to Stefan who had just unlocked the door to his father’s car. He watched as Vivian drove off, just behind Charlie.
“I’m sorry, I used your car without asking.”
He smiled. “Not being asked to borrow my car is the last thing on my mind right now, Ophelia. I should have told you about her. I just knew something was off that’s why I stayed with you last night. I kept thinking, what if I was too late?”
“How did you find us here?”
“Your location tracker. You left it on,” he smiled and sat inside the silent car as she also did.
As he drove onto the road, her mind plagued her of multiple thoughts, she stared outside the window as she spoke, “I feel like something’s about to end, Stefan; and I’m not quite sure if it might be a good ending or bad.”
“Whatever ending it may be, Ophelia, it’s what we do after the ending that matters.” As he said those words, he placed his hand over hers. She was soft and cold to the touch. “What happened to Sally?”
How could she have told him? What would he think of her now. She hated the thought of lying to Stefan, she never did it, she couldn’t do it. Her words would feel so heavy if she did. Instead, she took a deep breath and inhaled, she reminded herself of what those persons were, what those people did. “She got what she deserved. And so did Christopher.”
Stefan hadn’t flinched, he hadn’t held any drop of unsettledness within his soul. His eyes remained fixed on the road yet he was certainly there with her. She felt the hold of his hand to hers tighten in a caressing manner. “Good,” he finally said.
“What happened to you in there? You had everyone worried. Florence hasn’t been taking the news well.”
“My father should have given her the news that I’ve been released for now. That should ease her anxiety and concern.”
Ophelia didn’t like the way he said it. Somehow it felt too neutral. She sighed, “Your mother does love you, Stefan. She doesn’t show it. Hell, she’s terrible at it, but you’re still her son. I know you didn’t paint her portrait because you were bored. The Stefan I know paints from his heart, you were hurting being away from her, allowing her to hate you because she thought you abandoned the family. I love Monty, Stef, but coming back here I realize that his decision wasn’t entirely right. It protected us but it didn’t protect anyone else.” She stopped and inhaled tiredly, “You owe her the truth, Stef. Or at least tell her that you didn’t abandoned them.”
He turned to her with a pained expression. He couldn’t understand her. The way she empathized with those who were even cruel to her. “Why are you so good?”
“I’m not good. I don’t think anyone’s ever truly good in this world. Everyone had a little bit of nastiness in them. Life’s about how much of it we suppress and why we do it.”
He said nothing but simply smiled at her, “Alright, let’s go.”
The drive wasn’t that far until they all arrived at Mrs. Dew’s front step before her antique looking door. Charlie knocked on the door twice before the aged woman opened the door with a quite surprised expression. “My,” she said, a little perplexed, “You children are out quite late.” She looked towards Stefan a bit startled at his battered image, “My God, Stefan, what in all of ages happened to you? Is it true? Had they really taken you in for the murder of the Boyle girl?” She slapped her palm gently across her face and moved aside, forgetting about letting them all in, “I’m so sorry, where are my manners, come in.”
It was a quaint little abode. The inside of the house was like a little antique store filled with porcelain figures at the wooden shelves. It was a bit stuffy due to the cluster of furniture which sat heavily upon her Moroccan designed rugs. The ceiling fan above had been broken as the blades above were not spinning yet the light attached was fully functional. Ophelia hadn’t remembered when was the last she saw this woman. It must have been years and yet as she stood before her she felt as if not a day had past. Her faced remained as they were, a few wrinkles which creased at the corners of her eyes and smile. Her thin line of a lip curved upwards and the apples of her cheeks were full and high yet without colour.
“Mrs. Dew,” Charlie began as he sat besides her at her centerpiece table. Vivian sat at the sofa to the side and Stefan stood calmly near, “We’re very sorry for coming to you at this hour.”
“Nonsense boy, you know I always have time for you. Your mother was a wonderful lady to me while she stayed here in this town. How is she now?”
“She’s doing quite well,” he smiled with great sincerity, “Actually, we’ve been rather troubled.”
“I can see that,” she gave a soft sweet laugh. Her attention turned towards Ophelia as she observed the girl standing next to Stefan, “You look quite like your mother, you have her eyes. I remember those anywhere.”
“You knew my mother?”
“Your parents,” she corrected.
Ophelia pondered upon her next few words. She couldn’t help it anymore. She needed to know the truth. She just wanted at least one small ounce of indication that what Florence said wasn’t just an assumption. Perhaps she just needed closure. “Was it true?” Ophelia suddenly asked, “Was their death intentional? Had those people really killed them?”
The question not only took Dew by surprise but also Stefan, Charlie, and Vivian. Stefan placed a hand on her shoulder but she gently shrugged away, “I need to know. If you know…”
Dew looked at the girl intently and furrowed her eyebrows. There was something strong and passionate about the young her before her who asked such an accusive question. There was something dark and tainted and vengeful buried within her soul.
“My dear, and you are certainly as blunt and straightforward as your father. He was a no-nonsense man, you know. He did what was right and called out those he felt like were becoming a threat to the ones he loved. Perhaps that’s why they went after them? I heard it was due to a fire?” She asked while shaking her head with a scoff, “But you’re a smart girl, darling.”
Ophelia felt a knot in her stomach. Florence was right. Her parents didn’t just die due to any unforeseen circumstances. It was intentional.
“What are you saying?” Vivian asked in an unbelieving manner.
“Shouldn’t you know?” Dew retorted, clearly not in a favorable tone towards her.
Charlie attempted to speak in Vivian’s defense, “She isn’t against us. She’s on our side.”
“Mrs. Dew,” Vivian stood a bit annoyed, “If there is a problem with my being here, then I will happily stand outside. You associate me too much with my mother. For a matter of fact, you associate everyone here too much with their mothers, and I do admit mine had done a terrible job and I don’t necessarily agree to her mannerisms and decisions but she did what she had to do to survive. And you damn well know what would have happened to her if she hadn’t. You damn well know what they do to the helpless women in this town.”
Ophelia held Vivian back as she was about to walk out the door. Her eyes stapled on Mrs. Dew’s own, “Vivian stays, we all stay together.”
“What do you want to know?” Dew said in a solemn tone.
“The Plagetis Patriarch,” Stefan answered, “Who are they, what do they want, and why are they so hell-bent on coming after certain individuals.”
She smiled. She smiled as if she knew. It was the type of expression that left a chill through Ophelia’s body. Vivian scowled deeply besides her.
“They come after who they believe has done great wrong to them to do an even greater wrong towards the person. It is as you might have already guessed. An entity. A cult. A belief. They want what all men want, power but something a little more than just the human power and wealth. They want to create a chaos. They want to be feared and untouched.”
“And how exactly do they gain that? Through sacrificing these women? These young girls? Why?”
“It was said that a woman was a blessed sacrifice. The virgins were the one they wanted the most. It was considered the highest of the sacrifices. The elders, years ago, wrote the concept.”
“Why are women now a part of this?” Charlie asked with a frown, thinking of Sally.
Dew shrugged, “I’m not familiar with their new concepts and why they need the women now or if these women willingly join but as far as I remember women were more brainwashed into it back in my time.” She gave a small little laugh and looked at Ophelia and Stefan, “But some were smarter and found a way to get themselves out.”
“How do we stop them then?” Ophelia questioned, she wanted nothing more than an answer to that very question as she knew running away was not an option to her anymore.
Dew shook her head. “There isn’t a way. Authorities here won’t help you. They’re all protected here. Besides, no one from the outside truly knows what’s going on in this town.”
“Markle George knew,” Stefan interjected as he remembered the way the lawyer had been speaking to the sheriff.
“The lawyer?” Dew knitted her eyebrows together in an attempt to remember the background of this man. Her eyes suddenly lit up in acknowledgment, “Oh yes! I remember him. Oh, the poor thing! He grew up here, you know, but studied and stayed in England. Then, he came back to Rose Gap with his newly wedded wife, to settle papers in regard to his inheritance which his late father signed. It was a terrible time for him because his wife had went missing. She was such a beauty, you should have seen that girl, such innocence and mannerisms. He was so grief-stricken he never left.”
Vivian looked at Stefan, “Do you think he can help us? He’s your family lawyer, not so?”
“I can talk to him.”
“Are you children mad? Do you know what you are even talking about?” Dew raised her voice, “This isn’t just any situation.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Dew,” Charlie stood suddenly and stretched his arm out for a polite handshake, “You’ve been so much help to us.”
She frowned as he spoke to her a bit while the others left the room.
“Ophelia,” Stefan said looking at her, “Stay with Vivian tonight while I speak to Markle. It’s better if you stay with someone. Or you both can stay at the manor.”
“I agree,” Vivian said before leaving the room with them behind, “It’s better if we stick together. They want us all apart anyway.”
Ophelia watched as Vivian walked towards the car and entered the driver’s seat calmly waiting. “Stef, I don’t feel good about this. About leaving you behind.”
He smiled at her in a very reassuring and gentle manner, “We stayed away from each other for years, we can do one more day.”
She didn’t like the sound of any of this. Something within her didn’t settle well. It was as if he was telling her goodbye, it was as if it was the beginning of a new nightmare.
**
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