And just like that I was left alone. Frozen to the spot I refused to look up cuz’ if I did I knew what I would see. I could feel the presence before me. The presence of a Whisenhunt. Every day the members of the Whisenhunt family would go through town. Visiting businesses and homes alike they would report to the sheriff. If a Whisenhunt stopped by you then you had gotten their attention. It didn't matter how old you were, what you did, or even what your gender or romantic preference was. If a Whisenhunt stopped by you then they liked you. Saw something in you. And you got to join their ranks starting as an assistant to rid towns of malcontents and make better use of them. On that night Violet had stopped beside me.
Violet
Staring into the clear water of the lake, I bit my lip admiring myself for the seventh time. Silk grey-blue overalls that tightly grasped the curves of my lithe body, teeth bracelets clacked at my wrists, cool smooth fingerless gloves padded with white leather hugged my hands, a gun holster filled to the brim with black shiny firearms rested on my well-defined hips, high-heeled white lace-up boots increased my height by a few inches, and a set of frilly bows tied my hair into two curly buns. I looked good, if it wasn’t for my newfound status, I would surely be snatched up by town drunk for a nightly romp in the sheets. I sighed; it wasn’t like that was going to happen ever again anyway. Whisenhunts were not allowed to have relationships with Non-Whisenhunts for some reason.
“Jerry!” It was Violet. Raising my head at the woman, I flushed. Right across the lake, she and our respective shadows stood. “Are you coming dear?”
I jumped, rubbing my left arm with my gloved right hand. “Y-Yes, I’m coming!” As I blindly ran across the lake towards the woman, nay the family, who had forever changed me and my life.
******************
I knew of Violet and her family; they assisted in keeping order. Often, I had caught glimpses of them doing their work but had never met any of them. That is until Violet stepped into my life in that alluringly dangerous fashion. It had been a normal day of bartending. The sun had set marking the start of the nightly rush. Herds of entrepreneurs, lawmen, and civilians alike crowded into the saloon and mobbed the service counter barking their orders at me. Without flinching I buckled down and got to work.
I wiped down tables, slugged drinks, and served suppers as fast as I was able. Upon receiving their orders, the patrons shuffled to their tables until every last seat was filled. This unfortunately included the very exclusive and very expensive bar seating my boss and his pals had claimed for themselves. Preferring to not look any of them in the eye; I kept my gaze down on the counter. Dark hazel eyes tracing that olive bear-like hand that grubbily gripped the handle of a Manhattan, the graying whiskers on his hairy knuckles sticking to the sweating glass.
Occasionally that very digit, the one belonging to my former master and current boss, would point at me and laughter would follow. But I had since learned to not mind their words or anything else. After being here a few months, the cacophony of voices, profanity-laced gambling, string-instrumented live music, unwashed bodies, and pungent alcohol all blended. The only thing that stuck out in my disinterested state was the occasional order, spill, or hand that entered my field of vision.
The night dragged on, and my petite sandpaper-like hands suffered the consequences. Both were flushed, aching at the joints, and swelling more than usual from another day of mixing drinks, dealing suppers, and cleaning glasses. I can’t say for sure when she entered but I do know of the effect it had. The saloon had gone quiet. I couldn’t see her at first, a part of me didn’t even want to. But I could tell she was getting closer. My boss and his pals could tell as much too, so with near-practiced precision, they ran from their seats and hid in the back with everyone else. At some point, the patrons had put together a table barricade with only the lawmen being brave enough to stand outside it.
And just like that I was left alone. Frozen to the spot as I refused to look up cuz’ if I did, I knew what I would see. I could feel the presence before me. The presence of a Whisenhunt. Every day the members of the Whisenhunt family would go through town. Visiting businesses and homes alike, then they would report to the sheriff. If a Whisenhunt stopped by you, then you would have gotten their attention. It didn't matter how old you were, what you did, or even what your gender or romantic preference was. If a Whisenhunt stopped by you, then they liked you. Saw something in you. And you got to join their ranks starting as an assistant to rid towns of malcontents and make better use of them. On that night Violet had stopped beside me.
My thoughts and the heavy silence were broken by the TAP, TAP, TAP of nails rhythmically hitting the service counter. Instantly I was greeted by a pair of Caucasian hands dotted with light brown freckles. The skin was smooth, shimmering in the light, and the nails were delicately groomed and pointed at the tips. If it weren’t for the odd accessories she wore, I wouldn’t have batted an eye but that wasn’t the case. On one of her stick-like fingers wore a ring with a green eye adorning it and at her wrists were a pair of matching teeth bracelets. Suddenly Violet took hold of my chin. Her deceptively sharp claws dug into my peach skin and drew blood while she pulled me closer to her and tilted my head up.
The hand that clutched my face was just as silky as its appearance suggested. But they lacked any warmth. Her hands were so cool and clammy that they almost distracted me from the Violet beauty. The silk gray-blue dress she wore matched her eyes with gold lace adding to its luxurious flair. Gray-blue eyes bore into me, her ochre brown hair was done up in a chignon bun, makeup was lacking from her features revealing them to match the completion of her hands, and the heavy scent of iron-tinted-lavender wafted from her.
“Hmm, you’re new, I wondered who would replace that old man; his eyes were so perfect,” Violet stated, her monotone voice nearly void of all emotion, but there was something else behind it that suggested she wasn’t as frigid as I initially thought. “Can you fix me a martini?” Once the pressure left my chin, I nodded, as I forced my creaking hands to move. The memories of the previous bartender played in the back of my head. I could still hear his screams. Violet had dragged him away into a stagecoach never to be seen again. A few days later his jewelry went up for sale.
After a few stiff motions, I tried to give her the drink before a gasp escaped me. The glass clinked and its alcoholic contents splashed on the counter. Like a predator pouncing for their prey, Violet quickly snatched my hands in her grasp. Her coolness contrasted with the throbbing heat of mine. Temporarily soothing the ache that had plagued me. “What is your name, dear?” Violet asked, admiring my appendages, as she rubbed her well-cared-for fingers against the neglected ones I bore. I could feel my face flush. “Come on, now, no need to be shy. What is your name?”
After a moment, I swallowed, unintentionally relaxing in the firm yet soft grip before I broke the silence. “J-Jerry. My name is Jerry Crosson, miss. May I ask yours for the sake of courtesy?” Out of admiration, I could barely speak above a whisper. Those cutting gray-blue eyes darted over my gaunt frame considering my worth for what she had planned. Nodding, Violet dropped my hands and stood whipping something out of her purse. The very same leather handbag embroidered with several sets of lips ranging from thin to plump in shape.
I tried to lean in for a closer look. But Violet was quick to stop that with a loud click shutting her purse tight. Those eyes darkened ever so slightly, and I stepped back muttering apology after apology. That satisfied Violet. “Hmm….quite the cheeky little thing…aren’t you?” I said nothing. But that didn’t deter her as she laid the unknown items in front of me. “I will come back at closing time. If you know what is good for you then you'll be here. I love what I see, Jerry. It would be a pleasure to have you as my assistant.” Keeping her tone low, Violet would only tell me that much. To this day I am not sure if it was out of fear of giving too much away or if it was to draw me in further but either way, it worked.
Violet left after that; head held high, layered dress swishing with the rocking movements of her hips. Her exit was made known by the piercing TAP, TAP, TAP her heels made against the wooden floors. By the time the door closed, the patrons began to put the tables back into their proper places. With the Whisenhunt gone, they felt free to talk, guzzle their poisons, and gamble to their heart's content. It all blended in my distracted state though. Through the window, I could see her. Violet was walking home. Caucasian skin glowing phantom in the moonlight as she sucked the vibrant viscera I had left on her thumb. Inches away from my trembling sandpaper-like hands were a matching set of tooth bracelets and a business card. I stayed after closing up the saloon that night.
I knew better than to disappoint a lady like Violet.
***************
The rest of the night had been fairly uneventful, and, with great difficulty, I was able to fall back into rhythm. But my boss and his pals never returned to their seats. It was brief but I met the gaze of his bloodshot eyes just as he and his pals fled the saloon. Eventually, closing time fell and everyone mozzied back home. It had taken a while but in no time at all, I had managed to dust and clean everything up.
The saloon was silent and as tidy as I was going to get it. Lanterns were blown out, tables were put in storage, chairs were stacked against the walls, liquor was locked in the cabinets, and every surface shined with the scrubbing I had given them. Until the belltower tolled at 3 o’clock the salon would stay this way. Completely and utterly silent. But just because it was quiet didn’t mean it was peaceful. I had felt Violet before I saw her.
Just like before that same presence washed over me but somehow it was stronger. Before it felt as if I was being watched. Now it is painful. As if the sets of palms had dug their talons into my flesh tearing through muscle and tendons as they skinned me alive. It wasn’t even the sensation itself that was utter agony. It was the cold that seeped into my bones, pooled wetness into my eyes, and made me tremble in my boots. For once I appreciated the blazing warmth that radiated from my hands.
Instantly I hugged myself and pressed them hard against my sides. Unfortunately, the heat did nothing against the presence I was feeling. The TAP, TAP, TAP of her heels pierced my eardrums as Violet stopped at the threshold of the swinging doors. A puffy-sleeved limb creeped out from the darkness and a long stick-like finger slowly beckoned for me to follow. The presence of knife-like digits began to painfully tug and pull at my skin. It was trying to yank me over to Violet and I obeyed their call. “Good, I was worried you wouldn’t heed my warning.” Violet praised, which nearly stopped me in my tracks, her voice didn’t sound empty.
It was sincere as if she was pleased with my obedience. And it was laced with the crossed accent of Brit and something else I didn’t recognize. Something deep yet feminine in its own right. My heart fluttered and without thinking I spoke. “Ah, your inflections, they sound lovely. I didn’t take the Whisenhunts as a bunch of immigrants.” I hadn’t meant for it to come out that way. I find foreign girls and guys quite attractive. I had intended to simply compliment Violet and her family. But of course, I buggered it up.
I slapped both of my hands over my mouth. So forcefully that they made their displeasure known through cramping joint pains and further bloating at my lumpy knuckles. But I didn’t mind them. Not when I could’ve made the last mistake of my life. I came to a full halt inches away from the fragile barrier that was those swinging doors. The presence had stopped its clawing almost as if it was shocked at my loose lips. Violet stared at me with her gray-blue eyes darker than the deepest depths of the gold mines. I couldn’t see her face though. The dark void of nightfall had completely enveloped her.
Making it impossible for me to know when I should start running. Turns out I didn’t need to. Violet, after a beat, started laughing. It was bouncy, bright, and melodious like those country tunes performers would play during open hours. A firm squeezing pressure surrounded me as the presence started hugging me. I couldn’t tell if it was because I had gotten used to it or if it had shifted with her mood. But the cold coming from them felt somewhat comforting now. “Oh, such a cheeky little thing, it is going to be a treat training you up. But we really should get going. You have a long night ahead of you.”
Violet had us travel to the Whisenhunt manor by stagecoach. It was different from the one the old bartender had been dragged into. Malcontents were always put in wooden cramped black stagecoaches that were more like traveling prisons than anything else. No seats, no windows, and six-foot-long walls suspected to be made of mahogany. Whisenhunts and their apprentices rode prodigious gray-blue ones with gold accents that would make any employee at the Abbot Downing Company green with envy.
Big windows with gold lace curtains, plush seats made of black velvet, multiple compartments under the seat for bags, and a long table sitting in the center of everything. The table itself appeared to be half icebox and half cabinet. The left side was reserved for cold while the right was reserved for hot refreshments. Both were separated by a wall to prevent the opposing temperatures from intermingling. And on the flat surface of the table rested four bowls of snacks and two bottles of what I believe to be sparkling cider.
“You know, this is quite a relief for me, I have wanted to do this for a long time,” Violet and I had sat across from each other her ethereal eyes combed over every inch of me. A golden lace ribbon, the same one she had once used to keep her hair tied up, had been placed in her purse. Allowing her straight ochre brown hair to messily cascade down her shoulders, back, and face. “Ever since I first saw you. But I couldn’t act at the time, I had to wait for your contract with Mr. Dye to expire. And even then I had to hope you would make it out alive.”
I was once again taken aback. While it was hardly a secret it wasn’t something I liked talking about. Nor was it something I thought Violet would bring up. The Whisenhunts hated indentured servitude and slavery. So much so that they managed to eradicate slavery when it first started to show. And they likely would have gotten rid of indentured servitude as well if it weren’t for the very real threat that it would undo the previous progress they had made.
I couldn’t fault their logic indentured servitude, while horrific, was a lesser evil than the former could ever be. But knowing that didn’t cure the damage that had been done to my rough knobby-knuckled hands. Years of popping, farming, and carpentry had taken their toll.
“With all due respect Violet, I don’t want to talk about it, it’s too shameful.” I whimpered, my voice quivering pathetically, I could still feel the nauseating crack of the rod against my hands. The hands were always his favorite place to punish.
Granted he would whip me and beat me like other masters, but I think he knew how fragile I was. How easy it would be to kill or cripple me and my boss couldn’t do that. Not when he depended on my services. Usually, he would only beat or whip me when I messed up. During such an occasion the Whisenhunts had chosen to make their patrols just as my boss had strung up my sniffling and wailing self by the rafters. My boss had never moved so fast to get me down.
“Are you sure? I could–” I shook my head, actually managing to cut Violet off. I couldn’t continue with this conversation especially if she was going to keep referring to him as Mr. Dye. “Alright, I understand, you’re not ready yet. But just for the record, there is nothing shameful about facing hardship. Not everyone can be lucky. I certainly wasn’t before I first joined the family. Do you think a barren woman in this day and age had it easy?” I shook my head with my body rigid at the idea that Violet had gone through hardship or pain.
I wanted to apologize for what I didn’t know. But I never got the chance to. The presence of thin hands had started to get more affectionate. Dancing on my body with the seductive grace of a soiled dove. I squeaked. My body steadily started to war with the fire that burned in my face and the ice that coiled up my whip-cracked back. “Though, Jerry, when you feel the need to talk you can come to me alright?” I nodded. “Good, I needed you to know that.”
Violet, satisfied with my response, finally dropped the topic and moved on to something else. This time I was ready for any surprises. “So, tell me, what do you know of the Whisenhunt apprenticeship?” That was a trick question Violet knew as much as I did. While it was public knowledge as to who was an apprentice it was not known what happened during the process. One day the apprentice was normal; the next they were a Whisenhunt. To be fair there have been rare occasions where an apprentice would try to sell information about the family.
I was there when one of them tried. The dark puddle of blood that followed was all that remained of her. “Well, to be honest, I don’t know much besides the tooth brac–” Breath catching in my throat, my dark hazel brown traced on each of my scarred arms. I had left the tooth bracelets and the business card at the saloon. Violet snorted, she knew what I had forgotten, well at least she was amused. I discreetly looked up at her. Those small yet plump pink lips were pulled into a lopsided smile filled with perfectly pointed canines and perfectly straight teeth.
Squealing like a pig I jumped as the hair tie that held up my hair came undone. My curly coal black hair waterfalled over my face blocking my vision just as a crushing grip encased my wrists. I could feel the hold cut off blood flow from my hands as I managed to look down. Squirting through the sea of darkness and greasy follicles impaired my sight. My eyes adjusted just in time to catch a pair of bony hands slink into the darkness of the stagecoach.
In place of where they had been just a moment ago the tooth bracelets neatly rested around my wrists. I was speechless. “Don’t fret dear, I didn’t expect you to know much about the process, it is quite the closely guarded secret for us Whisenhunts.” Violet simply continued with the topic as if nothing had happened. I followed her lead. Pulling myself together as I slowly opened and closed my numb hands to bring back feeling in them. “Second only to one other but that will have to wait till later.”
“The apprenticeship is indefinite. You are free to do whatever you wish. You are free to leave the manor at any given time, but it is recommended you tell someone of your departure, where you intend to go, and how long you will be. Apprentices are quite valuable targets,” The stagecoach came to a stop. TAP, TAP, TAP. The coachman and woman rapped their nails against the ceiling to announce our arrival. “It could take days, weeks, months, or even years to complete the process. It all depends on the person but one day you will be a Whisenhunt.” Violet slowly rose from her seat, reaching out a hand towards me as her head barely avoided hitting the ceiling of the large stagecoach.
***************
The Whisenhunt manor was an eight-story mammoth of a mansion with walls painted the same color scheme their clothing came in. From a trap door hidden within the manor, there was a set of wooden stairs leading down to what I could only call a cave basement. It was endless. The maze of halls and dens seemed to go on forever. If I hadn’t been led by Violet then I certainly would have gotten lost. “You don’t need to worry about anything you’re going to do great.”
“But wh-what do you want me to do?” I was sobbing by this point. Stripped naked of any clothing I had. The presence of thousands of hands, ones that didn’t belong to Violet, prodded and poked at me. It was overwhelming, to say the least. The nippy and dark initiation room had candles hanging from the walls but they were snuffed out. Leaving its only light source to be the gray-blue eyes that glowered at my small form. All around me, I was surrounded by members of the Whisenhunt family. Rows upon rows of black velvet seats circled the oval-shaped bathing pool.
Inches in front of my very feet was a shallow lake of water leading towards a deep cavernous hole at its center. At the other end of the bathing pool were the elders of the influential group. From the frothy water, I could see my reflection. My peach pink body was flushed varying shades of red and was covered in both old and new deep lashes that hotly throbbed in defiance of the cold. The wavy locks of my coal-black hair flowed down my back and my dark hazel-brown eyes leaked saline from the ice that threatened to freeze them in their sockets.
I couldn’t stop shivering. Every hyperventilating breath I took chilled my lungs and funneled white whips of smoke into the air. The reality of the situation had crashed down on me, and my mind had gone blank. I was left with nothing but the urge to flee from an inescapable fate. But Violet had kept me steady. My flayed back pressed against her stomach as she attempted to soothe me. The thin long arms of Violet wrapped around me, settling the sharp-nailed hands against my chest.
“Nothing too complicated, Jerry, all you have to do is walk when I tell you to. Trust me I was very scared as well, but you’ll feel much better when it’s done,” Violet either couldn’t or didn’t give me time to retort. “Lora! Roger! We are ready!” I was not ready far from it but this was going to happen. TAP, TAP, TAP. The sound of doom echoed from the heeled shoes of the elders. The presence and coldness that had embedded the room had completely dissipated.
The candles immediately lit up with bright orange flames as if something had been purposely blowing them out before. I could see the faces of every Whisenhunt in the room. They all had glowing skin and their eyes, albeit much paler than they had been moments ago, matching the very ones Violet housed in her skull. But that is where their similarities ended. Each one seemed to be of different blood. All of their hair and skin were different colors and tones. I had almost forgotten the ceremony I was taking part in.
Seeing them like this, seemingly normal, was enough to settle my frayed nerves. I can’t say for sure why that sight calmed me. Maybe it was the knowledge that I wouldn’t lose my identity. I wouldn’t become some Whisenhunt clone. That everyone in this room had been where I was at some point in their lives. “You see, Jerry, it will be okay. You’re not alone.” Violet whispered, her sharp nails digging into my skin just as the room descended into darkness again. The air bit my exposed skin. I could see my breath.
The thick presence had returned but this time it was different. It wasn’t surrounding or picking at me. Instead, it was waiting right in front of me. I whipped my head back to the bathing pool and stifled a scream. A giant mass of flailing black hands had erupted from its center with a gray-blue light shining around them. The clawed appendages themselves oozed viscous fluid from their smooth fingertips that splashed into the steadily mucking water. Violet removed her grip and gave me a gentle shove.
“Go on dear, you can do this.” Her voice was shaking and cracking. Violet was so happy she was starting to cry. I couldn’t disappoint her now, not when she was shedding tears for me. I’d look and feel awful if I did. So, with that, I closed my eyes and stepped into the pool. The presence grew closer as the hands reached out. TAP, TAP, CRACK. I blacked out the moment those hands contacted me.
Since that night my life has changed forever Jerry Whisenhunt was born.
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