Legend of Witchtrot Road - By E.J. Stevens

Chapter 1

I heard the harsh, grinding creak of a ship’s hul straining against stormy seas just as I felt the vertiginous tilt and rol of the waves beneath me. I considered letting the motion lul me back to sleep, but one thought kept creeping in to ruin my slumber. I wasn’t on a boat.

With a jolt I tried to leap upright, but up was down and down was up, causing a searing pain to shoot through my shoulder as I dangled from the car safety belt. I needed to get a look around, but turning my head didn’t seem like an easy option. My neck was stiff, like the time I fel asleep with wet hair, and my head was pounding a rhythm that matched the vampire bats gnawing in my stomach. Come on Yuki, you can do this.

Reaching up to grab the safety belt, I steadied myself and drew in a deep shuddering breath. It did nothing to calm my racing heartbeat, but the pain in my head momentarily lessened. Forcing my eyes to stay open, I turned them to my right and flinched. A ghostly pale face stared back at me and it took a moment for my sluggish brain to realize that the spectral form was only my reflection. I examined the sickly face suspended in the darkness and knew one thing for sure. I looked like hel .

For a moment I closed my eyes and gathered another steadying breath, remembering to breathe in the way I’d been taught during the numerous yoga classes that Cal had dragged me to over the years. Determined to get to the bottom of the mystery of why I was hanging upside down from a car safety belt, I pul ed my eyes to the left. A golden amorphous shape hung glowing beside me and I jumped when it moaned.

“Emma?” I asked. My voice was dry and raspy and started a series of painful coughs that nearly made me pass out again.

Emma didn’t answer me, but with a rush of memory I knew that it was my friend beside me. Emma’s blond hair cascaded past her face to dangle above the glowing instrument panel. Pale skin, golden hair, and white blouse sleeve were marred only by a dark stream that trickled from her scalp along her arm to drip slowly, tap tap tap, off her fingers onto the windshield.

How did this happen? It had to be the curse. I clenched my fist in frustration as my eyes fil ed with tears.

We had known better. Emma with her research and me with my psychic gift to sense the dead; we knew the risks of messing with the curse, but that hadn’t stopped us. Our curiosity had won out over common sense and now we were paying the price. Son of a dung beetle. I just hoped we survived long enough to benefit from the lesson learned. Never mess with a curse and never, ever travel on Witchtrot Road after dark.


We never would have ventured onto Witchtrot Road if it hadn’t been for Dylan Jacobs. Dylan was a sophomore at Wakefield High, and though I didn’t know him very wel , I felt sad at the loss of someone so young. I also found his ghost difficult to ignore.

The announcement came a week earlier in homeroom.

The screeching of desks on linoleum tile and the buzz of giggling and whispers stil ed as the principal stated that a Wakefield High student had died in a tragic motorcycle accident. For a moment I wondered at the grisly details.

Maine winters were real y not conducive to motorcycling.

Had he slid on icy roads? Did he drive his bike off a bridge, plummeting into the frigid waters below?

With a shudder, I tried to shake off my morbid thoughts. I may have a major bridge phobia, but it didn’t mean every traffic accident had to include one.

“…counselors available…,” the school principal’s voice droned on over the intercom.

“Too bad they don’t offer counseling for smel ing the dead,” I muttered.

Students were already getting restless, shuffling feet and papers, as the announcement ended. I didn’t think anyone heard me, but a hand settled on my shoulder as Cal leaned in close.

“Do you smel him already?” Cal asked. “Is Dylan here?”

Of course Cal would hear my muttering with his super sensitive wolf hearing. It was easy to forget he was more than just my gorgeous boyfriend. Cal had recently discovered that he was descended from the Old Blood. He carried the spirit of