Abigail - Prequel- The Priestess Of Artemis

An ebony shroud lay over the earth, specked by glittering diamond dust and far away luminary bodies. There was no wind; a perfect stillness had settled in. A faint light shown through the endless branches, in an open clearing. Flames danced and flickered like demon tongues, while kindling cracked and popped pushing back the heavy silence.

In front of the fire was a gray robed figure with a large hood drawn up around it's head. It stood motionless as it gazed at the waning moon.

It was an older woman. Her reddish hair was starting to frost. Lines were beginning to set in the noble face. They looked as if they spread across the woman's stone like countenance forming a map which traced many painful paths to wisdom. The woman's faded blue eyes were still sharp as they appeared to commune with the lunar body.

The woman reached into a black velvet bag and released a pearl white dove. It took flight, its argent wings a blur against the onyx heavens as it quickly flew towards a stone house in the valley below.

The woman nodded as it faded from view.

The old woman then reached into her white back and took from it a coal black kitten with humorously large, frantic copper penny eyes. It was barely larger than one of the woman's gentle hands.

She held it up against the moon, bathing it in the lunar beams.

"May Artemis be with you, little one..." It faintly answered her in a pathetically meek meow.

No sooner had she set it down than it scurried off towards the house.

#

Little Abigail sat up. A noise came from the window.
A small black shape was peering in at her. It jumped down on her bed with a bird like sound.

Abigail petted it. Abigail tried to talk to her new friend, but since she only knew a few words the two of them exchanged baby like sounds for several minutes.

Then the kitten jumped down and ran out Abigail's door.
She climbed off the bed and followed it, rubbing her tired eyes as she pushed back her crimson locks from her sapphire like eyes.

The kitten always stayed just ahead of her, leading her down the dim hallway. All of the adults were busy talking in the study and took no notice of the child as she passed by. She could hear their harsh tones.

Her new friend stopped in front of a large wooden door and looked at her. "Meeewwwhhh?" it asked her puzzled.

Abigail tried the door. It was locked. A flash of light went by her head. Next to her feet a small dove had landed. It had something shining hanging from it's neck...a small key.

Abigail carefully took it and put it in the door.
The handle turned and Abigail and her two new friends went inside. Some one was sitting up in a chair in front of the window, motionless, staring out at the moon. Abigail could already tell from the long red hair that it was her mother. She had deep black circles under her eyes, and her lips were almost as pale as her fair skin.

"Momma!" she called as she ran over to her. She tugged at her arm, but there was no answer. Her mother was covered in bizarre writing from head to toe. She stared blankly outside, unable to speak or move, like a large doll.

Abigail had not seen her mother for several days, since she had a bad argument with Abigail's father. She tugged at her, again before putting her arms around her. "Momma?" she asked starting to cry.

At the sound of her voice a faint glimmering of cognition began to appear in the woman's eye. As a surge of will awakened in her, one of her arms shot out and grabbed the child.

Abigail jumped back.

"Be really quiet, Aby," her mother's weak and raspy voice told her.
"We are going to play a game, OK? Let's sneak outside?" she told the little girl, forcing a smile on her face.

"Momma!" Abigail giggled as she nodded happily.

Her mother struggled to her feet. She had not eaten or drank for a days and was nearly dead. She quietly led her child passed the study, down the hall and to door that led to freedom.

"Stop her!" Abigail's grandmother called out.
Her mother collapsed with a foot of the door. She was clawing her way to it, dragging her sobbing child as the black robed grown ups came running after them.

As they reached down to grab her mother there was a loud crash...
The door flew open wide. A gray robed figure stood in front of it with a a large upright star on it's chest, attached to two crescent moons. She wielded a large wooden staff which she struck the ground with as she pointed at the attackers.

There was a chorus of screams as each of them began clawing at their faces, ripping the flesh off in bloody handfuls of pulpy gore.

"You weak minded fools!" Abigail's grandmother screamed. "Don't let that witch inside of your heads!" She was a tall, masculine woman, with harsh features, black hair and hateful green eyes.

The pursuers were on the ground screaming in pools of their own blood as they tore their own eyes from their sockets.

"Don't look, Aby!" her mother ordered as she weakly covered the child's eyes.

The gray robed figure bent down and lovingly helped up her daughter and grandchild. Abigail had never met her other grandmother before. She seemed much nicer than the one that was chasing them now yelling "Your tricks won't work on me, witch!"

They mysterious old woman in the gray cloak took out a small handful of purple powder and blew it in the face of the wicked priestess.

She fell to the ground holding her eyes as she joined in the screaming.

"Daddy!" Abigail called out.
Her father, Malachi, also clad in a black cloak was charging down the hallway at them, his face red and twisted in anger.

"I'll kill you both!" he screamed, drawing a large kris knife.

Abigail's new grandmother calmly shut the large door before he reached them. When he threw it open, the light of the moon had become blinding like a sun. He covered his eyes as he threatened "I'll find you, Diana! You and your mother will pay for this! Our brotherhood will find you anywhere you go!"

When his eyes cleared they were gone.


Diana's mother helped her and Abigail into a small boat she had waiting on the banks of the river. As she pushed off, the small kitten jumped on board. Diana lay exhausted with her child in her arms as her mother started up the engine.

By the light of the moon the three of them escaped into the night.