11pm 1st November 1899

It had taken Alistair far longer to return with Father Brannan than she had liked and even longer to convince him that doing this was a good idea. It was the same conversation they had every time and although it was usually needed, today it was just tedious. His warnings about things going wrong and messing about with the spirits of the dead being dangerous fell on deaf ears, so eager was she to get going. Besides, she had heard it all before and nothing had gone awry in the past. After he had rolled his eyes, they had gathered the things they needed and made their way to the place where the young man had been laid to rest.

By the time they reached the graveyard, it was eleven o clock at night and a waxing gibbous moon illuminated the stones. There was no other light, other than the small oil lamp they had brought with them. It took less than five minutes to locate the grave, which had a garland of fresh flowers laid on it. “Almost a shame to move them,” she said to her two companions as they looked over the grave.

“Let’s get this over with,” Brannan said with a small shake of his head.

“No matter how much you protest, you still come along,” she said. Alistair stood at her side, his expression masked by the gloom. His wand raised and the earth that covered their target was swiftly removed.

“The sooner this is done, the sooner we can go home,” Alistair said. She nodded, aware that he found this a little disconcerting too. The coffin was raised up and the lid removed swiftly

Vanessa let out a breath, cleared her mind and looked down at the corpse. Pulling out her gloves, she put them on and took another glance at the body. He was still pretty fresh, so this was going to take a bit more than a casual yank. Leaning down, she opened the mouth of Nathaniel and gripped the lower jaw tightly. “Look away,” she said, warning her other two companions. With a great heavy, she pulled down and out. She felt it give but this one was being stubborn. Another yank and the lower jaw flew free, sending some bits of decaying flesh into the air. The stink of death followed and she heard Alistair gag.

He spat and straightened up again, “Never get used to that sound,” he said, shuddering as he spoke. Her blue eyes met his much darker ones and he nodded, “Let’s get this done,” he said before pulling out his wand. He wasn’t her apprentice, she had not agreed to train him and he’d not have taken her up on the offer is she did. What he was, was her friend. They’d known one another for a long time now and although he didn’t want training, he was always interested in tagging along. So much so that he now called on her daily and accompanied her on all her jobs. She was thinking about making him a partner in the business, he helped out often enough!

Dismissing the thought for the time being, she flicked the excess matter from the jaw and placed it on the ground. This was the worst part, the part where she had to ensure her defences were in place and that she was ready for whatever came with the voice. She was. She always was. She just hoped that it was enough. Aiming her wand at the bone, she took a glance at her two companions before beginning the spell that would solve the mystery of Nathaniel’s death once and for all.

It started immediately.

The screaming was like nothing she had ever heard before. It was as though the noise was coming from inside her mind. The drop in temperature hardly seemed present at all and the darkness seemed to thicken. Shadows cast by the headstones lengthened and began to twist. There was a sharp pain, intense but over as soon as it appeared, in the back of her neck; that was when it all went a bit wrong.

Her mouth opened, not at her bidding. The noise she heard herself making was like none she had ever heard before. Turning, she watched as she saw herself scanning the ground. Alistair was saying something, talking as though he never did. She couldn’t hear a word. This wasn’t right. No. The jerky movements of her body were not her own. She hadn’t told her hand to rise like that. Next thing she saw was running. The bounding, jerking movements were unnatural and she hated the way it made her stomach lurch.

She was launching at Alistair. His hands were down. It must have been a mere second or two after the summoning; he’d not had a chance to realise… She screamed, the noise echoing inside her head. Despite her willing herself not to, she watched as her nails dug into the side of his cheek. The feeling of being trapped, unable to prevent what happened flooded her; she screamed. No one heard. The look of fear on her friend’s face was something she would never forget. Nothing would ever be the same again, this was too much. Her other hand joined her first and they tumbled. The ground met them both and she watched, utterly helpless, powerless to stop herself as she clawed and scratched at him. Red began to cover her hands, his face and although she battered her will against a hate filled invader, she was powerless.

Whatever had gotten into her had not noticed there was a third party with them. It was only when a sharp blow to the back of her head caused it to look up that it realised its folly. Vanessa saw herself try to turn around, her movements sluggish. Another blow and she was staggering forward, lying over her blood soaked friend. Another one and she saw nothing but darkness.