2024


"Thank you again, Louanne. I know this has been hard, but I am just so happy that Sarah has been returned to you, even after all this time." Jenny Smith-Owens extended her hand to Louanne after filming had wrapped.


"Thank you, Jenny. It was my pleasure." Louanne smiled warmly.


"Jenny! Oh Louanne, I'm glad I caught you! You're not going to believe this!" Assistant director Tanya Marshall rushed toward the two women, holding a piece of paper.


"What is it, Tanya?" Jenny asked.


"The whole forest where Ms. Reed found Sarah is on fire. Evidently there was an explosion too. The authorities are already on it. They think it's related to Sarah's case." Tanya handed the paper to Jenny.


"It's December!" Louanne was shocked. "Not exactly wildfire season."


"But it has been unseasonably warm," Jenny shrugged, reading the paper. "And dry."


"That's true, Jenny, but isn't it odd that there's never been one wildfire on that side of the mountain in all the time Sarah was missing and now that she's been found, the whole area is up in smoke?" Tanya pressed.


"Tanya, if you want a promotion, all you have to do is ask, I'll put in a good word," Jenny smiled at Tanya. "You have many more talents than just those of an assistant director. Let's get the detectives on the phone."


"On it!" Tanya disappeared as quickly as she had appeared.


"Jenny, do you think--" Louanne finally spoke. "Do you think that this has something to do with Sarah?"


"I try not to get too wrapped up in conspiracies, Louanne. But this just strikes me as odd."


For years, it was almost as if the possibility of Sarah being on the mountain had all been forgotten.


The Christiansons had learned to move forward with their lives, believing that they would never see their precious Sarah again.


Although it was never the same, life went on.


But there had never been any nudge to look further on the mountain.


And now it was on fire. And what was this about an explosion?


--


"I did it, Sarah...you're finally free..." Jarrell slid down the wall, to sit on the dirty floor. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his flask.


He took a long swig and smiled.


"This mess is finally over...you hear that Tzarinah? I mean, TYANNA! That's your real name! I ain't your papa!" He yelled toward the diminutive, black pile in the corner.


"Hell, I'm finally free too!" He chuckled to himself and drank again.


"God damn, you're really starting to stink this place up!" He stood and walked to the pile before giving it a nice, hard kick.


It was Tzarinah who lay under the pile of blankets.


She would no longer be a threat to anyone because the Dark Lord had finally taken her. Or maybe it was just old age.


Tzarinah was 86 years old and how she had managed to live that long was beyond Jarrel. She should've had cancer, or something, with all those cigarettes! Or maybe she did. She did decline in just a matter of days.


He was certainly not in good health either. He couldn't be sure how, but he knew he was dying...


Just a few mornings ago, he awoke before Tzarinah. Normally, she was always up first. But the last few weeks, she was more tired than usual. She was, however, just as evil as before.


He went to Sarah's room to check on her. She had just given birth again only a few weeks before and wasn't healing as quickly. This was what, ten? Eleven live births now? He had lost track.


"Hey! How are you feeling today?" He said quietly as he walked over and sat on her bunk.


Sarah rolled over and smiled briefly before placing her hand on her abdomen and shaking her head.


"Maybe you need a doctor," Jarrel frowned.


Sarah's eyes widened and she shook her head emphatically. She grabbed Jarrel's hands.


"Sarah, I think this is it," he clasped her hands in his.


Sarah continued shaking her head before laying her head in Jarrel's lap.


He began stroking her hair, and she immediately grew calm.


"I gotta do something or she's gonna hurt you!" Jarrel's eyes were wide with fear. He was referring to the plan to kill Sarah once she was no longer useful to them and their cause.


She was the only one left who could still produce children for them to sell or...sacrifice. The others who had been brought in over the years somehow just disappeared. Miraculously, Tzarinah would then look younger and would be in excellent health again for a while.


Jarrel never really liked the others as much either, so births with them were few and far between.


Sarah was a different story though.


Even though Tzarinah, tired of Sarah's Christmas songs, had angrily cursed Sarah, causing her to not be able to speak, Jarrel knew Sarah liked him back.


"That's just Stockholm Syndrome!" Tzarinah yelled when he had first told her that Sarah had become completely devoted to him and they needn't worry about her trying to leave. "Don't you remember Patty Hearst?" She became a terrorist right with those people! You're not special" She whacked his head again.


"Why are you mad, Rinah? You got your way! She will do anything I ask her to, isn't that what you wanted?" Jarrel rubbed his head.


"Actually, no. I like it when she's scared!" She held her hand up abruptly in front of her."Cadite in terram!" She called out causing Jarrel to fall to the ground.


"But the Dark Lord has not told me to dispose of her yet, so your little plaything gets to live!" She brushed past Jarrel toward the door.


"Where are you going?" Jarrel called out.


"I need some air!" Tzarinah yelled over her shoulder. "And I need to talk to my man!"


--


Jarrel sat back down, next the the pile that once was his wife and former step-mother.


"You were the singlemost evil bitch that I ever knew," he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a revolver. He clicked it open and reached back into his pocket and took out six bullets.


"I wasn't no choirboy, don't get me wrong," he placed the bullets into the gun. "I went along with your plan. And that stupid cult we tried to get together back in the 8os," he laughed. "You know, TYANNA, in order to be a cult leader, you have to make people like you. AND NOBODY LIKED YOU!" He kicked out at the body again. An alarming squishing noise accompanied the kick causing Jarrel to wince.


"Disgusting," he muttered. "You have always been a disgusting BITCH!" He got on his hands and knees, in order to try and slowly stand up.


"I'm an old man now," he groaned. "I wasted my LIFE on you!"


He stood and pointed the gun at the pile that once was Tzarinah.


"I know you're already dead, but..." he fired off a round. The pile started oozing.


"I have one more thing I have to take care of, and then I'll be back," he put the gun back into his pocket as he walked toward a gas can and a large jar full of black gun powder.


He picked up both items and walked out the door.


"Hey! Motherfucker!" He hollered. "I know you're out there! Why can't you come to me like you did her? I don't know, just to tell me what the fuck is going on!" Jarrel had put the can and the jar on the ground and was now waving his arms around like a madman.


"ANSWER ME, OH DARK LORD!" He yelled sarcastically. "Are you fucking real or not? Or are you scared of, I don't know, Jesus Christ?" Jarrel laughed.


The wind picked up. A sulpheric odor began to fill the air.


"Ha! Yes! Finally! I need one thing from you and then you can have my soul too!" He yelled over the now-howling wind.


The howling ceased.


"Break the spell!" Jarrel yelled.


Silence.


"Break the spell! I don't know how to do any of that shit! That was your precious Tyanna's thing!" Jarrel's voice echoed in the silence.


"Break the spell! You can speak again now, Sarah! You can talk!" He fell to his knees, clutching his side in pain.


"See, oh, Obscura domini! You can have me too! Just break the goddamned spell!"


A gentle breeze picked back up and a low noise accompanied it.


"What was that? Who's there?" The noise sounded like a voice...a soft, feminine voice.


"...Frange incantatores..." the voice whispered.


"What? Frange incantatores? Is that it?" Jarrel raised his arms.


"Frange incantatores!" He yelled as the wind picked back up. The trees were practically bending in half and what little snow was on them scattered to the wind.


Jarrel smiled and began to laugh. "Yes! Frange incantatores! Frange incantatores!"


He finally stood, which was even more difficult in the gale force winds, and grabbed the gas can and gun powder. He opened the jar and began walking the perimeter of the property, emptying the contents along the way, which wasn't easy. The powder was blowing everywhere.


Then he turned to walk back toward the cabin, pouring the gas with each step. It splattered all over him.


When he reached the cabin door, he poured the rest of the gasoline as he walked toward Tzarinah's body.


He sat down again.


"You finally get your hellfire, Priestess!" He said sarcastically.


He pulled out the gun.


"I guess this is it," he pointed it at the line of liquid leading to the pile. "Enjoy Gehenna," he said before firing it off, causing a trail of flames to travel out the door and all around the property.


"And now," he placed the barrel between his lips. "This is for you, Sarah. I'm...sorry."


He pulled the trigger and fell over as hellfire and gunpowder overtook the two bodies and the rest of the mountainside.