“Oh. My. God.” Dead fish rotting in the hot sun would smell better. She covered her nose.
Determined to find answers, she crept inside. The light switch was mounted next to the door, not that it did much good. The bulb couldn’t have been more than fifteen watts. Eerie, spooky shadows danced on the wall as she stepped inside. Her stomach in knots, her eyes widened at the brownish red streaks covering a cracked wall. It could be blood. That looked like warrant material to her. She whipped out her cell phone and snapped some photos. The flash washed out the markings, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances.
One red image consisted of an arrow through a two-foot diameter circle. A second one resembled a cross that had half fallen over. Could have been an X, but the horizontal bar had fancy pointed ends. A few of the other symbols looked like some kind of Pagan secret code, but none resembled the usual pentagram used in witchcraft. Even though she’d spent much of her recent days studying different Pagan religions, she had no clue what these slash marks symbolized. If she had to guess, she’d say they were closer to the black magic cult associated with Santeria rather than the more benign Wicca.
A whisper sounded behind the side wall, and she stilled. If she believed in ghosts, she would have sworn her mother was trying to tell her something. The reasonable side concluded the noise probably came from a bunch of kids outside. She half jogged over to the far side of the room where the stench grew stronger and images of dead bodies came to mind.
A loud bang behind her made her jump. She whipped around and slammed a hand to her chest. “Stupid thing.” A wooden altar lay on the ground. Her swingy skirt must have knocked it over.
Get out of here. Now.
“One more minute.” Please God, let me find something to help my mom.
Against the opposite wall sat another altar covered in dark stains. More blood, she bet. Her pulse raced. She’d find these thieving kids and take back what belonged to the families if it was the last thing she did. While she didn’t have a CSU kit to test for blood, she could scrape the wall with her fingernails and hope the small flakes would be enough for the test. She stepped closer and reached out a hand.
“What are you doing here?” said a voice behind her. The blood drained to her belly. That voice. Low, dark, evil—and totally unforgettable.
She whipped around and froze.