“No, our painting!” cried Betsy. “You’re a monster!”
“I’m going to have to ask you and your, um, friends to leave now,” John said in a stern voice.
Violet stared at him, smelling the fear that oozed off his body. “I’m going to have to ask you and your, um, friends to leave now!” she mocked him. “I don’t think so. Not so fast, we’ve only just arrived here. We couldn’t leave yet,” Violet said as she stared back at the family photo.
“What a lovely fam you’ve got here! Two good-looking parents, and three beautiful children. It must be nice to have such an attractive looking family!” Violet said rhetorically.
“Can we help you with something?” John asked.
“Well, now that you mention it, you can. Why don’t you sit down a moment so we can chat,” Violet asked.
“No, I don’t think that will be necessary,” John said, looking at Betsy as they both shook their heads in agreement.
“SIT DOWN!” Violet repeated herself, this time much louder.
“Don’t tell us what to do in our own home!” John retorted angrily.
“You will sit down this minute!” Violet laughed and summoned two of her subjects to transport them across the room and sit them on the couch opposite Violet. As she watched this pathetic pair float through the air, towards the chairs, she let out a big laugh.
“Help!” Betsy said, as her body lifted off the ground uncontrollably.
“Betsy, I don’t like this!” John said simultaneously.
“Oh stop worrying,” Violet said, “We’re not going to hurt you. We just have a few things we need to talk to you about.”
Violet sat there, looking at the pair, who looked as if they had just been sentenced to the electric chair. Their mouths hung open, their eyes wide with panic and fear. She reveled in this as she sat back in the soft brown leather chair and put her feet up on the white painted coffee table. She then dug her pointy heels into the fresh white paint and watched as it chipped off the table in big white flakes. She could tell Betsy wanted to scream, but didn’t say a word. She knew from this moment on, she had them wrapped around her bony little finger.
“So, I bet you’re wondering why we’ve asked you here today?” Violet asked, as she glared at the two and waited for them to respond.
She waited a minute and then raised one eyebrow in anticipation.
“Cat’s got your tongues, I see!” Violet sneered.
“Well, then, I will just speak and you can listen. Feel free to chime in if the mood strikes you,” Violet said.
“We’re here because of your lovely daughter Rachel,” she began. “We know she’s back and we must find her. Can you tell us where she is?”
Betsy and John looked at each other. “Um, she’s not, um, home right now,” Betsy, stammered.
“And where might that little gem be?” Violet asked.
“Uh, Uh, she’s at school still,” Betsy, said, checking the time on her watch.
“School, eh?” Violet questioned. “When does she get back?”
Betsy looked back down at her watch and said, “Well, I’m not too sure actually. I don’t know what she had planned after school today.”
“Some mother you are! You don’t even know where your own kid is,” Violet patronized.
“You watch it!” John said, sticking up for his wife.
Violet looked at one of her subjects and shook her head. The subject went over to John and touched his throat, completely disengaging his voice box from making any sounds. He tried to open his mouth to scream, but nothing came out. He grasped his throat and rubbed his neck, but nothing could fix it.
“That’s better!” Violet said. “You know, it upsets me when I get yelled at. I was never into authority figures,” she said, staring at John.
“Well then maybe you can answer me this. Why did she align herself with the Vladiccus Coven?”
“The Vlad what?” Betsy asked.
“The VLADICCUS COVEN,” Violet spoke slowly and clearly.
“What on earth is that?” Betsy asked back, cowardly.
“Ugh!” Violet grunted. “I don’t have time to walk you through this right now and I would appreciate it if you stopped pretending not to know what I am talking about.”
“But, I don’t, I promise you, I don’t know who that is,” Betsy said in a frightened tone.
“Listen, if you’re going to play dumb with us, we’re going to have to find some way to get it out of you,” Violet said.
“What’s the coven’s plan for war then? Why don’t you riddle me that?” Violet laughed.
“War?” Betsy cried. “I don’t know, please, I swear.”
John tried to open his mouth again to talk, but nothing came out.
“Sorry, Sir, can’t hear you, why don’t you speak up!” Violet asked as she commanded her subject to undo the spell she’d put on him.
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about!” John said, his voice suddenly booming with volume.
“That’s better! We can hear you now. I hope that will teach you to watch your tone with me Pops,” Violet insisted.
Violet watched as Betsy took out her cell phone to make a call. She didn’t know whom she was dialing, but didn’t want to wait and find out. She looked at the phone, held out her bony hand and wiggled her fingers toward her as the phone flew out of Betsy’s hand and into hers. She looked at the number on the screen—911—and then broke the phone in half with one hand and laid it down on the coffee table.
“That’s rude!” Violet said. “We were in the middle of a conversation!”
“But, my phone!” Betsy said.
“Now, where were we?” Violet asked. “Oh right, back to your wonderful daughter Rachel.”
“We don’t have any information for you. She just got back last night. We have barely spoken to her about her disappearance. I’m sorry, we truly don’t have any answers for you,” John said, cowardly.
Violet lifted her feet off the white coffee table and stood up, quickly, knocking over the cup of coffee that was sitting on the table next to her feet.
“I think our work is done here then,” Violet said, as she flipped her dark black hair and turned to exit the house. “If I think of anything else, I’ll be back,” Violet said.
“Thanks for the chat,” she said as she patted both Betsy and John on their heads before she walked out of the house with her six subjects following in line behind her.