In The Dark Of The Night

When Anastacia moves to the city of London to rid herself of adult responsibilities and experience the nightlife, she meets Louis, a dark handsome man that owns the night club down the road. But when she's eerily drawn to him and starts to lose valuable memories she questions who he really is...


12. The Past

Anastacia didn't remember getting up but suddenly she found herself in a field, a circle of fire surrounding her.  She looked around confused, her head pounding as she fell to the ground, the fire extinguishing.  "Ana..? love?" called a familiar voice appearing from the darkness of the woods.  Anastacia turned around, tears falling from her eyes as she tried to figure out how she had gotten there, "Louis?  Louis, where am I?" she cried.  Louis walked to her cautiously, wrapping his arms around her, holding her gently as she sobbed in his arms.  "I followed you.  You woke up and no matter how many times I called you back to bed, you kept walking.  You came here and started chanting....Ana....shhh Ana.  Come on, let's go home," he hushed, picking her up bridal style and walking home through the night, the moon casting a pale shadow on the both of them.  Ana wracked her brain, trying her hardest to remember what had happened.  She wasn't the kind to sleep walk, or even talk in her sleep.  All she could remember was her intense dream she had.  Louis brought her back into bed and went downstairs and grabbed her a mug of coffee and an ice cold wet cloth.  He placed it on the back of her neck and sat at the end of the bed, examining her from afar.  "You're dreams are getting worse..." he began, rubbing her feet gently through the blankets.  Ana shrugged and took a sip of her coffee, "I'm fine," she lied, looking into her mug.  Louis' muscles tensed as he spoke again, "Anastacia I know you're lying.  You're not fine.  Tell me what's going on," he hissed.  Ana shrugged again, "It's not the victims anymore, this time it was a red.  Bright curly red hair and big green eyes.   She was chanting....words I couldn't understand and suddenly you were were.." she mumbled, not wanting to finish the sentence.  "I was what Ana?" he asked gently, moving closer to her and pushing back a lock of her hair.  "You were dying..." she cried, "I tried to stop her but she kept chanting, getting louder until she turned to me and told me it was my fault.  I should have listened," she sobbed, gripping onto Louis tightly.  "But I'm here Ana...Darling, I'm right here," he cooed, pulling her onto his lap and rubbing her back gently.  "I don't know what I would do without you.  I'm afraid she'll take you away," Ana cried.  Louis shook his head, slowly rocking her back to sleep and lying next to her, holding her tight.  

The next morning Louis got up, making sure he didn't wake up Ana doing so, and went down to his office.  He knew when he went to school they dabbled in a bit of America and England's history by talking of the Salem Witch Trials, but never took much interest until his demise.  He took the thick, old leathered book from the shelf and looked through the pages, trying his hardest to find a drawing of the woman that fit Anastacia's description.  He stopped, his skin becoming cold as she looked at the pages of the book stopping at a drawing of a young child, her hair curly as Ana described, and there written at the bottom was "Violet with mother, Tituba".  After hours of phone calls and research Louis returned to the bedroom, paperwork and books in his arms as he plopped them down on the desk.  Ana jumped, "What's all this?" she asked, grabbing some paper and looking through them cautiously.  "These are you family records dating back to the Salem Witch trials.  Did you know that you're a descendent of Tituba?" he asked, sitting at the end of the bed, grinning.  "Wait...the witch?  The one that began the whole witch trials?" she asked, grabbing another book and opening it to a picture of the woman he spoke of.  "Yes!  There are theories that she wasn't killed!  She had a relationship with a man named John and had a child who was named Violet.  Violet married years later and had your great great great great great great great grandmother Ana!" he explained.  "And...? What does this have to do with my dream?" she asked, turning away and sitting back on the bed.  Louis fumbled through the papers on his desk before turning back around and showing her a drawing of Violet.  Ana's mouth dropped as she grabbed the slip of paper from his hands and examined the photo.  She was much older and looked a lot like her, except for the thick red, curly hair that sat messily on her head.  "She must have had gotten some lessons in witchcraft before her mother died," Louis spoke softly, sitting down next to her.  "But what does she want from me?" Ana asked, falling into the bed and onto her belly, "I mean, there's my mom, she's more superstitious than I am," she groaned.   

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