We Don't Talk to Edith Thompson Part 5

Ch 5: All Hallow's Eve

October 31st, 2025- 9:33 AM

It was my eighteenth birthday. It should've been the best day of my life, but it wasn't. I was terrified. After what happened to Sabrina yesterday, how could I not be? Just by thinking a negative thought, Edith took action and decided it was justifiable to maim her. I understood that her family suffered because of the Endecotts, but that didn't give her the right to play God!

Since the incident, Sabrina won’t talk to me. She acted as though I did something to her on purpose. Oh, maybe it was because I spoke to Edith? Surely, it goes beyond that dumb rule, though, right? I didn't know, but hopefully, all of us can move on and enjoy our Halloween festivities in peace and harmony.

Whatever the town council might’ve come up with that is.

Mom and I dressed and walked to the town square, where the complete redecoration of Danvers, Massachusetts, surprised us. Everything appeared as if it came from the 17th century, right before the infamous Witch Trials. As Mrs. Smith said, Danvers was once part of Salem, which was a sizeable village.

The council built additional structures of wood, straw, and assorted linens around the preexisting ones. There was also a stone water well (obvious stage prop), a stage with metal shackles, hanging gallows, and a guillotine. They even erected a small, shabby-looking barn to house goats.

How charming!

What caught my attention the most was the stone circle with an enormous wheat stalk held together with wires and a metal pipe. A sign placed in front of it read:

Death Place of the Wicked

1692-1693,

May God have mercy on their souls!

A chill ran up my spine as I walked by. Why would they keep something like that? Didn't they care about those who suffered because of those trials? All those innocent women?

"Oh, honey, let's get a picture with the goats!" Mom gasped excitedly, dragging me over to the barn.

A bored-looking teen boy in a cringe, cheaply made Pilgrim outfit, perched a cellphone on a tripod.

He said, voice lacking any enthusiasm, "Come hither, fair Maiden and Missus. The milking beasts await."

Geez, "milking beasts"? Pretty sure they were called goats back then, fella.

Mom and I hugged a light brown baby goat, looking adorably historic in our outfits. Without my knowing, Mom had gone to the mall with Sabrina's mother, Ellen, two weeks ago. They bought matching, historically accurate, Puritan-inspired women's outfits. It sounded boring, right?

Not really, now that I had seen it up close.

It was a plain brown linen dress with a white apron that served as a corset, a modest collar, and a cap/shawl thing to cover her hair. Mostly, it worked, except for several wild strands hanging down.

If I had known she wanted to match, I would've gotten something similar to hers. But no, I ended up going with Sabrina, and then rats tried to eat her. Then I ended up with a Medicinal Wench costume. To be honest, I wasn't sure what it was until I did some research.

Evidently, even though the colony was primarily Christian, a small portion of its citizens practiced Paganism or the Wiccan arts.

A Medicinal Wench was a woman who used herbs and natural remedies for ailments. Sometimes resorting to bizarre rituals for something specific, such as fertility, luck, prosperity, longevity, etc. Based on the memories Edith showed me, her ancestors practiced this.

Which, unfortunately, was their undoing.

The outfit was similar in design to Mom's, except it incorporated different shades of greens and browns instead of white, and there were several small pouches of "herbs" sewn into the waist of the dress. It was unique, colorful, and fun to wear.

Definitely something I would recycle another year.

Bored Pilgrim snapped the picture and gave Mom a piece of paper with a QR code on it. Saying she can download it later this evening. Yes, nothing said "authenticity" like downloading a picture taken with a cellphone from an app.

I wanted to argue with him about the absurdity of it all, but seeing the happiness on Mom's face stopped me. We gave the goat a goodbye pat before moving on to other festivities. My stomach grumbled, signaling the need for food. We skipped breakfast so that we could enjoy the spread at the various food stalls.

Guess it was time for a spooky Halloween brunch.

Amara manned a roasted chicken and lamb stall with an older woman, whom I believed to be her mother. They are both dressed like New Orleans voodoo ladies. Laughing and joking with each other in between customers about how ironic it was that they had to make chicken for a 'bunch of entitled white pricks'.

"Hey, Amara!" I called to her as we approached. Her smile turned to a scowl immediately. Great, Sabrina got there already.

"Um, what's good here?" I asked, trying to be casual.

"We got chicken or lamb." She remarked dismissively. "Unless you'd rather we go out and fry up a rat?"

Her mother thwacked her hand with a wooden stirring spoon. "None of that, you hear? Give them some food; they'll move on, and we'll have a wonderful celebration. Got that?" Her tone was stern, yet affectionate. Just as a mother should be.

Amara nodded with a pout, stroking her hand. She gave us a serving of each, some napkins and utensils, then muttered, "Happy Halloween."

Mom and I hit up a roasted potato stall, a "spiced ale" stall (it was an orange fruit drink), and then we found a fairly secluded area near the town square to eat.

A pleasant vantage point, so to speak.

We were far enough away that I could hear the music played on hidden wireless speakers, smell the different meats being cooked, the random incense of pumpkin spice burned around town, and I could see the variety of costumes, modern and historically accurate.

Danvers really loved Halloween. Now, if only all this festive pride didn't come with snide comments or weird superstitions, all would be well.

"Honey, did something happen to you and your friends?" Mom inquired, chewing on her lamb. "They haven't been coming around at all, and Amara was so rude to you."

I couldn't explain everything to her. For one, it was surrounding this weird superstition that may or may not be an issue, and two, what happened to Sabrina wasn't specifically my fault. It was Edith's.

With a shrug, I replied, "Maybe I'm not one of them after all. Just because Sabrina said I would fit in doesn't make it true."

Mom nodded. "Well, that's true. You've always been special, Suzy." She finished the rest of her food and drained her cup. "Oh! I almost forgot!"

She jumped up and rummaged through her pockets until she found a small wooden box. "Happy birthday!"

I put my half-eaten plate down, eyeing the box suspiciously as I accepted it. "What's this?"

"It's a family heirloom from your dad's side," Mom explained cheerfully. "He tried to sell it off after the divorce, but I saved it. Figured it would make a great eighteenth birthday gift."

Carefully, I opened it. My eyes widened when I saw what was inside. A gorgeous necklace made of leather or thick string, entwined with small, colorful flowers, and a blue crystal pendant in the center. I inspected it and noticed that it was adorned with a symbol that I had never seen before. A circle with three intersecting crescent moons in the middle.

Actually, it vaguely resembled the one on Edith's black book.

As if on cue, Edith showed up. Standing near a tree. She looked... different from normal. Her skin was glowing and healthy; hair was glossy and confined into a long braid going down the side of her neck, and she wasn't in baggy, ugly clothes anymore. That was the biggest shocker. Edith was in a short, elegant black dress with red runic symbols all over it and silk ankle booties with red ribbons on them.

Mom noticed her. "Oh, hi Edith! Good to see you again!"

Edith walked closer to Mom with a huge smile. "You too." Her voice wasn't raspy anymore, either.

What the hell was going on?

She glanced at me; her eyeballs grew wide at the sight of my necklace. "Where'd you get that, Suzy?"

"Um, b-birthday gift." I stammered, showing the necklace to her. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Then, the unexpected happened. Tears welled up in Edith's eyes. Her eyes filled with a softness that one experiences when reuniting with someone after years of separation. As if a friend she had waited for finally came back.

She sniffled, then whispered, "Yes, it's beautiful. Happy birthday, Suzy."

She rushed away, holding herself in a tight hug as she sprinted through the town square.

Huh. That was weird.

"There she is! Get her!" A man screamed.

Oh no, what now?

Everyone gathered at the source of the noise. At the "burning memorial" stood the current mayor and descendant of the Endecott founder, Joel Endecott, his wife Ellen, their daughter Sabrina, and her boyfriend, Eric. Karina and Trent were nowhere to be found.

Joel was manhandling Edith as if were a feral puppy with Eric's assistance. Sabrina was pounding her fists on Joel's back, shouting, "I'm the Town Whore! You're supposed to make me the witch this year! You promised me yesterday!"

What in the ever-loving hell?

I saw a younger woman with short, flaming red hair, dressed like a Puritan man, watching with intensity. I questioned her, "Hey, what's going on?"

"Oh, you must be new! Joel picks a woman to be the "witch" by pretending to burn them alive each year. It's all good fun!" She offered her hand. "I'm Rachel, the town historian. Good to meet you finally."

Shaking her hand, I responded, "Likewise, so is Edith, whom he picked? I thought nobody was supposed to talk to or interact with her or something like that?"

Rachel's face paled. "Um, well..."

"This little bitch tried to kill you, Sabrina! Don't you care about that!?" Joel snarled, dragging the thrashing Edith to the shackles. "Eric, secure her feet. I'll get her hands. Make sure she can't escape!"

Before Eric could attempt to restrain her, an invisible force flung him across the square, easily fifty-sixty feet, and then he landed in a pile of hay and goat poop. Edith bit Joel's hand, making him release her.

She tried to get away, but Ellen grabbed a fistful of her dress and dragged her back. Edith growled like an animal; her eyes flickered a darker shade of black.

"It's about time the last bit of Thompson burns in hell!" Ellen screeched, forcing Edith to her feet. "Say hi to your mommy for me!"

"You first!" Edith roared in a sinister voice I've never heard her utter. It sounded almost demonic.

A spark appeared on Ellen's skirt, quickly spreading into an inferno. She tossed Edith to the side and started shrieking. Panicking, she ran back and forth, throwing dirt, hay, linen, anything she could grab to smother the flames.

Nothing worked.

She screamed over and over, "Help me!"

Every citizen ran around in a panic. Like complete idiots.

Joel darted to the drink stand, grabbed several pitchers of water, and threw them at his wife, yelling, "I'm trying!!!" Suddenly, he tripped over the metal shackles, knocking himself and Ellen onto the burning circle, causing the fire to spread faster.

The couple howled in agony as the flames fully engulfed them. Edith, visibly pleased by their misery, snapped her fingers with a wicked grin.

As if in slow motion, Joel and Ellen Endecott's heads vibrated slowly. Cracking at the base of their foreheads, ears, and necks, until eventually, and brilliantly, exploding. Like a messed-up human firework. It coated the surrounding area in viscera and organ chunks.

Sabrina fell to her knees, wailing like a baby. "Mommy, Daddy, no!"

The few citizens who weren't panicking readied their weapons, intending to avenge their fallen leaders.

Rachel grabbed my and Mom's arms, shouting, "We're not safe here! Let's hole up in the school and regroup!"

We willingly followed her, desperate to stay alive.

Risking a look back, I saw the gruesome aftermath of their insurrection. Men torn in half; thrown all over the place, entrails saturating the dirt and hay, heads on pitchforks, teenage girls were tossed on the ever-growing fire, where Joel and Ellen are currently melting into a puddle. Every structure built for the festival, and otherwise, was being destroyed by the same invisible force causing the rest of the chaos.

The goats escaped along with Sabrina.

For now.

Edith stood in the center of the carnage and declared, "Happy Halloween!"

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, and incidents are fictitious and the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, organizations, or events are entirely coincidental.

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