The Hoods

I received an anonymous package today.

Inside was a letter.

It was from a witches counsel, telling me that my works of fictions have been all wrong. That all my careless and so called "research" on Covens couldn't be further from the truth and if I wanted the full experience, that I would meet at the disclosed location tonight at midnight.

I was to tell no one of my research, or wear abouts.  I couldn't record, document or video any of its results, and above all things, I was to come alone.

In bold beneath this description were the words DO NOT FORGET TO WEAR THE ROBE.

Inside the package was a musty old black robe, with strange etchings woven into the fabric. It smelled of sandalwood and licorice roots.

The letter wasn't signed, but their had been a wax notary seal on the envelope before I opened it. The indentation was the same as the etchings on the robe.

I tried the robe on and stared at myself in the mirror for a couple of seconds.  It was your traditional long black garment made with a thick black velvet material. The fabric felt harsh against my skin, and a tad warm.  It had a hood attached, that when worn stood up in a sharp point.

I called around to see if anyone had seen the deliverer, but all leads ran cold.

The post office didn't seem to have any packages documented for delivery for me, so I had to assume it was delivered by hand.

For all I knew it could have been the workings of a delirious fan.

Was this a cruel prank, or some sick way of luring me out of my home?

As promised, I hadn't discussed the contents with anyone, other than the mention of a surprise package.

I didn't have enough time to scout out the venue, because it was on the other side of town.

If I truly intended on going, I would have to take two trains and walk a few miles through town.

This wasn't a good week for my car to be in the shop.

I secured the robe in a back pack and decided to catch some dinner in town.

If I had a late dinner and met some friends for drinks, I could decide then and there whether it was worth the lead.

I would be halfway there and at that time of night, the second half of my journey would fly by.

I met Alexia and Lidia at our favorite Italian restaurant.

Like most nights, we shared many courses of fresh pastas, a cigarette or two and many bottles of wine.

The wine appeared to give me some liquid courage and diarrhea of the mouth.

Most people would fear the unusual, but these two reveled in it.

I shared all my theories and we toiled with the ridiculous notion of it being a real modern day Coven.

Alexia pleaded to come with me, but I showed them the letter insisting that I come alone.

Being the good friends they are, they respected my wishes and stayed mute.

Time had gotten away from me as I stumbled to my feet.

I knew I could get to the location on time, but it would be close.

We air kissed before saying "buona notte" and parted ways.

On the second train, I gripped my pack, wondering if I was crazy.

No one in their right mind would follow such a mystery, without taking precaution.

The train became emptier and emptier, before I arrived at the last station.

The platform was riddled with fog.

The street lamps eerily shined a path exiting the station toward the brick road.

I listened as the heel of my shoe clicked and clacked along the road.

No time like the present, I removed the thick robe and dressed myself, nearing my destination.

I put the hood up, in order to hide my face and stopped outside a large rusty gate.

The entrance was ajar, so I slipped inside.

I followed a long gravel driveway, toward a blaring bonfire.

Dance music and laughter filled the air.

As I drew nearer, I saw other hooded figures, mingling about a crowd.

A mix of tourists, locals and farm handlers were partaking in drunken debauchery.

Some were entangled in an open orgy, while others drank and swayed to the music.

None of the hooded figures faces were visible.

I looked at my watch and noticed that it was two minutes to midnight.

I wasn't quite sure what I was witnessing, but thought it best to stay quiet and in the shadows, a ways away from the party.

The hooded figures began assembling around the party scene as the clock struck midnight.

One of them tolled a bell, while the party goers screamed in ecstasy.

I crack of lighting danced across the sky, before clouds started to roll in.

They covered up the bright orange moon, something I hadn't noticed upon arriving.

The music started to skip, ending the dancing.

The volume rose to uncomfortable level, before it started playing backwards.

The vocals had now sounded demonic as my cloaked friends reached their hands toward the sky.

I decided to distance myself even more, but couldn't turn away.

Violence and blood shed had rained down on these poor people.

Screams were muffled by the musical chanting.

People were fleeing for their lives, but none escaped.

I hoped to cover my eyes, but couldn't help but watch.

I felt a pull toward them.

My body was pulsing and burning up.

I wanted to rid myself of this feverish cloth, but hadn't dared.

The robes were beckoning me.

I had tried staying hidden, but they knew I was there all along.

My feet hadn't moved, but suddenly I drew closer to them.

A naked man screamed for his life, but they pinned him down.

I don't remember arming myself, but suddenly a knife was in my hand.

His throat was slashed and I reveled at the blood that dripped from my weapon.

A devious smile formed on the others faces as the fire burned higher.



I awoke dressed in sweat.

It felt like I had gone swimming.

I discarded my bed sheets and stumbled toward the bathroom.

I ran a little water and let it wash down my throat.

I tried catching my breath and slowed my heart beat.

It was only a dream.

It was only a dream.

Behind me the black hood  rest on a hook.

I rubbed my eyes and exited the bathroom.

I returned to get a closer look at my cuticles.

Blood.

It was blood.