And Now?

David sniffed. "You might be right. It's not much further, though. Let's take a really quick look."

I took a deep breath, trying to settle my stomach. Smells really bug me sometimes. "OK. But let's make it quick." We hurried toward the smell. I tried to breath in short, quick breaths, and held my breath for as long as I could.

When we reached the clearing, I fell to my knees, gasping and retching. Bones of all kinds of animals lay scattered about, some white with age, some still covered with bits of flesh. A cracked human skull sat atop a rock, a gruesome testimony that not all of the bones were animals. Flies buzzed in the sticky air. Frayed bits of rope and broken chains lay scattered among the wreckage of life. Ashes and bits of charred wood covered the ground, scattered as if flung about. Some of the bones were shattered, barely recognizable shards. Others were mostly whole, marred only by small cracks. A black club studded with heavy iron spikes rested against one of the tree trunks as if waiting for its owner to return.

I looked up at David. His face was white, his fists clenched. Fear and anger darted across his face. He reached down and pulled me to my feet.

"We've got to get out of here."

We ran, ran until we thought our lungs would burst, rested, and then ran some more. When night fell, we were still running. Our footsteps were heavy and jarring, but the horror of the place ran behind us, pushing us onward. At last, we could go no further. We collapsed against a tree trunk. I gasped for breath, still trying to stifle the sobbing fear of the place. The images ran through my mind like an endless parade. I saw the studded club swinging down, shattering bones and mangling flesh. I saw bodies painted in blood, dancing by the light of a bonfire that seemed to stretch into the heavens. Red flames leaped in my mind, I felt their heat against my face. I felt the ground shake with explosions of thunder, and saw lightning ripping through tightly bound bodies, and hurling them about like playthings. I saw a hand reaching for me, its nails rimed in blood, filth clinging to the lines across its palms, a knife clutched in the other hand.

I must have screamed, because I felt David's hand clamp over my mouth. "SSHH."

I laid back against the tree, panting, counting to calm myself. At two hundred, I whispered. "What was that place?"

"Witches," he said. "They were witches."