Part 3: Cleanse Your Soul

The Tor stood tall and intimidating under the setting sun. The shadows it cast throughout the land made its presence all the more dominant. The waning crescent moon hung low in the night sky, appearing to be ten sizes larger than normal. Early stars begin to twinkle in the sky streaked carelessly with orange, pink, and purple. A breeze had picked up since Betsy and Morgana had begun the tiresome hike up to the Tor. Thunder rumbled in the distance again and the smell of rain was pungent in the air.

Cramps clawed at her belly as she and Morgana continued the steep, upward climb towards the Tor. The beauty of the stone step trail and the countryside view had long since diminished as the climb continued endlessly onward. They had only made it about halfway up when the sun sunk even lower, allowing the bright fingernail moon to shine brighter. Morgana, who had the stamina of a mountain goat, turns to Betsy. Her eyes shine in the shadows as a grin plays at her lips.

“I thought you said you were in shape, Impossible Traveler. You boasted about being able to keep up with me.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Betsy finally stops and clutches her stomach. Holding up a finger, she bends over and takes in a few more breaths. Standing back up straight, she gives an apologetic grin to Morgana and takes a sip from the water flask the young priestess offered to her. The water hits her mouth, refreshing and crisp. She takes another sip then hand it back off to her companion.

“I guess I overestimated my abilities in an uphill climb. We won’t stop again, I promise.” A surge of energy flows through her as she and Morgana fall into step and make their way in silence up the rest of the hill.

As they approach the top, a large fire has already been built in the middle of the stone structure. Flames lick the sky as several druids and teenage priestesses dance around the flames, throwing in flowers, herbs, and species. They chant reverently as they move and soon, the smoke begins to emit an overpowering musky odor. The strong, earthy scent invades her nose and she feels an overwhelming sense of calm. Her eyes shut halfway and she begins to sway without realizing it, getting caught up in the chanting.

A pair of strong hands catch her arms and she opens up her eyes to see Ambrosius looking down into her face. Vivienne is beside him, dressed in her finest regalia befitting her station as Lady of the Lake. Now, more than ever before, Vivienne looked the part of the High Priestess of Avalon. The power drawing around her was electric; Betsy reckoned she could see actual sparks flash around the lady. In her hands was a brown mug. Betsy’s eyes land on that, knowing instantly that it was for her. Instinctively, she holds out her hands for it.

Vivienne presses it into her palms. Before Betsy can pull away, Vivienne’s fingers tightly around her own and they hold the mug together. The eyes of the Priestess finally betray her worry.

“Once you drink this, there is no going back. Everything within yourself that you fear will be pulled from you. From there, the choice is yours: Face your fears that feed into the corruption that plagues your soul. Can you defeat the monsters that dwell within to battle the monsters congregate without?” Betsy nods, but Vivienne isn’t finished. “Or will you fall victim to your demons, as so many others have? Cursed to live a half-life with only your empty accomplishments and hallow values. To never again feel the warmth that comes from the light, sparked by strength, love, and sacrifice.” Vivienne’s dark brown eyes almost implore Betsy to change her mind, but the Impossible Traveler only nods and gently pulls the cup away from Vivienne’s grip.

The Priestess nods and takes a step back as Betsy lifts the mug to her lips begins to drink. The substance is thick like sassafras, tasting bitter with the herbs required. Nausea threatens to stop her mid-way through the cup, but she forces the rest of the liquid back. Once she’s finished, one of the young priestesses appears quickly to relieve her of the mug and disappears just as fast. Betsy looks over to Ambrosius and Vivienne, who are watching her with clear concern. She shoots them a comforting smile and throws out her arms casually.

“Why the tense expressions, I don’t eve-”

Before this thought was allowed to finish, Betsy is pulled into another realm. Looking around her, she can still see the shadowy shapes of the dancing druids and priestesses. The fire glowed an unusual shade of red and she could no longer feel its heat. Indeed, the world around her had grown frigidly cold. She could see her breath when she exhaled. As her teeth begin to chatter, she continues to turn in a small, slow circle, attempting to make sense of what was happening.

Then the voice. His voice.

“Raise the Left Hand.”

Balling up her fists, she stuffs them as far as she can into her ears as she spins around. And there he was in his true form dressed all in black, left hand held out to her. An odd warmth flooded through her as she took his hand. It worked its way through her arm, swam through her belly, and rested deliciously in her loins. It was only when his lips crushed hers that the truth of his presence revealed itself: an unending void, burning cold. She stared into it, feeling an overwhelming urge to allow herself to jump in. His hand rested itself into the small of her back, urging her forward. This was what he wanted, but why?

She digs her heels into the ground. From the corner of her eye, she sees Geri Vayden lurking in the shadows, licking her chops. Geri, Scary Geri, she who had remained loyal when other’s had scattered. Weary of her resistance now, The Baphomet releases his grip on the Impossible Traveler. She stumbles forward, arms swinging comically to avoid falling into the massive darkness. Geri grabs her by the hair and pulls her back from the ledge. Before she can defend herself, Geri has her in a vicious chokehold that she continues to tighten.

“You fool. You’ve seen what I’ve become, despite your best efforts. I’ve remained two steps ahead of you and always in here.” Geri taps her head playfully. “Nothing you say, nothing you do, can stop what’s going to happen. You’ve been given an offer of the highest regard, and you would spit in the face of he who would make you a queen?”

Genuine anger seizes Vayden now and she released the hold and slams Betsy into the ground. She climbs on top of her, driving a knee into her back. Betsy screams in pain, but Geri only continues to drive her patella deep into Betsy’s spine.

“You could have everything you ever wanted if you allowed the Left Hand to free you of these needless inhibitions. You could rise to power and glory you couldn’t imagine. All you have to do is Raise the Left Hand.”

Shaking her head, Betsy finally finds her last bit of strength and gives her all to heave Geri off. Startled, Vayden does release her grip, giving Betsy time to crawl away… Right into a pair of male boots. Betsy is given no time to recover as a mangled hand reaches down and grabs her by the throat.

“Eat the Left Hand.”

Spitting in her face, Alias releases Betsy and turns towards The Baphomet and Geri. They retreat, hissing, as Alias lops off after them. A familiar female laugh rings out behind her, full of amusement.

“You certainly do have a way with people.”

Jenny Myst finally shows herself, having followed Alias onto the scene. Her bright blue eyes follow the direction of their retreating numbers, before turning her attention to Betsy. A taunting sneer crosses her lips as she takes in Betsy’s appearance.

“You look stupid.”

“Fuck off,” Betsy grumbles, rising to her feet and smoothing out her dress.

Jenny watches with amused interest. “It’s not me you’re mad at, admit it. I’m just here because I’ve been the pebble in your shoe that you just can’t shake out.”

“Do you really want to know what gets me about you?” Betsy crosses her arms and glares at the former Shooting Star Champion. “You walk around here, grabbing endorsements like crazy, bragging of a title reign that just lasted over a hundred days. You have the entire world at your fingertips, yet you choose the most shallow existence you could possibly have. You could do anything, everything with the influence you built up around yourself and you squander it away on such meaningless shit. I just don’t understand how such a woman that’s been blessed with so many opportunities still continues to live her life like she’s being denied her due. That a former champion and budding business entrepreneur can have so little insight into the bigger picture. You don’t actually care about the title, you only care about the rewards it can bring you. Anyone could throw a piece of tin taped to cardboard at you, and you’d cling to it for everything it’s worth. You have everything you need to be an unstoppable powerhouse in any industry you enter; yet you set your worth on how much you can gain based only on your looks. What a disappointing waste of time. Yeah, you have the kind of looks that make other women sick. You don’t have to brag about it, but you do. Insecurity creates the loudest voices. You represent everything that’s wrong with the women’s division; you are the poster child for why it’s become such a joke. That’s my problem with you, Jenny.”

A weight lifts from her shoulders as she begins to giggle at the expression on Jenny’s face. Reaching out, she flicks Jenny in between the eyes, but she turns to smoke as the apparition disappears. Stiffening her shoulders, she hurries in the direction that Alias has chased The Left Hand in. It isn’t long before she comes finds the three, engaging in a heated battle. Alias is looking for every shot he can get on Baph while Geri laughs and showers him with blows. Snarling, Betsy rushes forward and takes a running start towards Geri.

Geri barely has time to turn and process when she’s flat on her back. Betsy hops on top of her and begins to smash her fist into Geri’s face. There is a satisfying sound of bone splitting as blood gushes from Geri’s nose onto her fist. Her next fist dislocates Geri’s jaw. Now her eyebrow splits open, and still, Betsy doesn’t stop. Unaware that Geri had fallen unconscious, Betsy screams animal-like as she continues her attack. The Baphomet watches, held down by Alias, an almost orgasmic grin on his face as he watches Betsy destroy his follower.

"Yes… Allow the darkness to guide you. Let it feed your power and make you so much more than you are now. Finish her… Take her out for good, at last, and take her place in my flock.”

Her fist stops in midair as his deep voice cuts through her red haze. Her yes clear and she gasps at the carnage she created. Geri remains motionless underneath her, her face a crimson mask with her blood. A strangled sob escapes Betsy as she scoots backward away from the damage she’d inflicted. The Baphomet cackles as Alias watches her with wide, distrusting eyes.

“Witch! Devil Woman! Evil!”

“No…” Betsy shakes her head and gets to her knees. She holds out her hands in supplication and sobs again at seeing the crimson gloves. “I’m not… I’m not evil, I’m just scared.”

“If you embrace the darkness, you’ll have nothing left to fear.” Moving with insane speed, The Baphomet manages to break free of Alias.

Alias disappears into smoke. Betsy rises to her feet at the same time as the Baphomet and they slowly walk towards each other. Their eyes break away from one another, even as they stand over a whimpering Geri. The Corrupted One looks up pleadingly at the Baphomet, but he kicks her hard in the ribs. Unexplainable rage flows through Betsy and she pushes Baph away from Geri’s body. He looks at her in surprise as she takes a step protectively in front of Geri. A smirk crosses his face as his tone becomes condescending.

“Why stop now? The journey is nearly complete. Destroy Geri Vayden and take your place as at my side.”

“I will not.” Betsy says, her voice clear and confident now. “I see you now; who you are and how you operate. It’s as slick as it is disgusting: You would have your own wolves turn on one another if it meant serving YOUR greater purpose. You have no care for the well-being or the souls of people like Geri Vayden. All you see are easy marks for your twisted brand of manipulation and call in the weak. The lost. The desperate.”

Betsy drives the Baphomet away with yet another step forward. Geri becomes a wisp of smoke, but Betsy doesn’t even notice she’s gone. As her resolve begins to grow, so does her strength. Overhead, the sky begins to fill with shooting stars, creating blinding white streaks across the velvety black sky.

“Geri may not have been the greatest when she came to you, but your influence has made her so much worse. I knew I had it on the mark when I accused you of collecting pawns; you’ll move your sacrificial lambs across the board until they meet someone much more powerful. That’s when you strike, is it not? Look at me: How quickly did you take an interest when you saw how easily I dominated Geri Vayden and Ash Quinn? Two pawns for a queen, isn’t that right?’

Betsy seems to grow into a giant as electricity gathers around her. His expression remains blank, but she doesn’t miss the flash of fear in his eyes.

“You’ll never have me. Nothing of mine is yours to take. You’ll never break my mind enough to turn me into one of your hell hounds. My soul will never be within your grasp. This ends tonight, Baph. Hear me, now, and know without a doubt: Betsy Granger will always be the light that casts away the shadows.”

Reaching forward, she uses the unseen forces of energy to push the Baphomet away. His enraged screams are cut off as he disappears into smoke. All of her energy leaves her body and she drops to her knees as the world falls back into reality. Ambrosius and Morgana are already helping her towards the fire as Vivienne regards her with pride in her eyes. As the two back away, Vivienne kneels towards her and wraps a thick, wool blanket around her, and presses a cup of warm spiced ale into her hands.

“Well done, child… Well done.”

FORMER