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The Sacrifice of Ava Black: The Witches of Thyana
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The Sacrifice Of Ava Black
The Witches of Thyana
A.G. Porter
The Sacrifice of Ava Black
The Witches of Thyana
Book 1
By A.G. Porter
The Sacrifice of Ava Black
Published by Nightshade Publishing, LLC.
Copyright © 2021 by A.G. Porter
Edited by Samantha Talarico
Cover Art © Open World Cover Design
All rights reserved
Trigger Warnings: bullying, violence, depictions of death, parental loss, attempted assault
Acknowledgments
Robert Johnson of the Turtle Mountain Band of the Chippewa People. Your guidance has been paramount in telling Ava’s story. Thank you for being so open about your culture. For your kindness and support I am eternally grateful.
Author Justina Luther thank you for being my accountability partner and pushing more toward my goals. More than that, thank you for being a friend.
Samantha Talarico, you have taught me so much about editing. It may stick one day.
To my loving family.
Contents
Foreword
1. Ava
2. Ava
3. Gabriel
4. Ava
5. Ava
6. Ava
7. Ava
8. Gabriel
9. Ava
10. Ava
11. Gabriel
12. Ava
13. Ava
14. Ava
15. Ava
16. Ava
17. Gabriel
18. Keira
19. Ava
20. Ava
21. Gabriel
Epilogue
Dear Reader,
Also by A.G. Porter
The Witch of the Woods
In the deep dark forest,
she does reside.
Where things do creep,
and things do hide.
In the deep dark forest,
she does reign.
Where things grow wicked,
in her domain.
In the deep dark forest,
should you find yourself,
surrounded by shadows,
it's too late to call for help.
For in the deep dark forest,
you are in her embrace.
A worthy sacrifice,
you will make.
A.G. Porter
Ava
It had rained in my small town of Guntersville, Alabama for two weeks straight. The local meteorologists were calling it record breaking flooding all across the state, but most of the deluge was concentrated right here. The amount of rain was stunning in of itself, but for me, it was more for the mere fact of what weather like this did to my body.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d woken up without my head feeling like someone was stabbing it with an ice pick. Having unending rain clouds hovering nearby only increased the pressure in my head. It didn’t help that I’d had another episode last night; sleep paralysis. Since the migraines, they had been intense and more frequent. They were always bad and frightening, but after last night, it felt different.
I had felt the pressure start within a very intense dream. I couldn’t remember exactly what happened, but pieces seemed to stay with me. There was a figure standing in a field, purple lightning all around her. She held a blade; a dagger. I could tell it was handmade, but skillfully so. Lightning flashed off its dark blade, revealing its sharpness. The image was terrifying, but it wasn’t her that scared me. It was what she said.
“They are coming,” her words merely a whisper, but the weight of them rang as loud as a raging river.
That’s when I felt the pressure hit me and I couldn’t move. I saw something out of the corner of my eye, something formed out of the darkness and emerged from the woods. Before I could react, it was on me, holding me to the ground. I could smell the dirt, feel the dampness of the soil seep into my clothes. Then it laughed. The most ear shattering sound I had ever experienced.
Sleep paralysis makes you hallucinate, my doctor had said. Some people hear things, some people see things, and sometimes it’s just an intense fear upon waking. For me, it was a mixture of all of it. Whatever happened to a person’s body during an episode was hard to figure out, but it was always scary.
I could still hear that laugh echoing in my ears. Rolling over, I stared up at the ceiling, willing myself to move, trying my best to drown out the sound of the ringing in my ears.
It was useless. The buzzing was insidious, coming from some dark place I couldn’t reach, driving that horrendous pain deeper into my mind. If it were possible, I’d pull it out and stomp on whatever caused it, crushing it under my foot until there was nothing left.
“Ava…” My mother opened my bedroom door.
Like a vampire, I flinched as the bright light from the hall came pouring into my room. I quickly pulled my soft, purple sheets over my head and curled up into a ball. She hurriedly shut the door. She was all too familiar with my bad days.
From my cocoon of sheets and blankets, I listened to her make her way across my dark room and take a seat on the edge of my bed. She pulled the sheet from my head, revealing a mess of rich black hair and brown skin.
“Bad morning?” she asked me unnecessarily.
“It’ll pass,” I reassured her.
“Are you lying?” She moved a few strands of curly hair from my face so she could see my eyes.
“No, but give me five more minutes,” I begged.
“You don’t have five more minutes,” she sighed. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay home?”
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“You’ve got a doctor’s appointment after school.” She kissed my forehead. “I’ve already talked to Dr. Abbott, and he’s going to call you in a different medication.”
“Alright,” I sat up slowly, but the room still spun, “Sounds great.”
It really didn’t. The last thing I wanted was more pills.
“Please, honey,” she took my hands, “if you don’t want to go to school, you don’t have to.”
“Mom, I’m a senior,” I told her. “I can’t afford to get behind. Whatever is going on with me is going to sort itself out and in the meantime, I’m going to live my life as normally as I can. If I get to a point where I can’t, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Promise?” She narrowed her sharp brown eyes at me.
“Promise.” I smiled at her, but I wasn’t sure how convincing I was.
Mom left me to get ready for school, which was a job when your every move felt like the entire room was spinning like a top. I managed though because the more I moved, the better I felt, especially after my shower. Too bad it didn’t make me look better. Standing in front of the mirror, I could see the toll this illness had taken on my body.
My brown eyes had lost that youthful shine nearly six months ago. Right now, dark circles haunted my face, which only looked darker when accented by my black lashes. My normally sun-kissed skin was pale from lack of exposure to the outside world. I was of Mexican descent on mom’s side and Mexican and Native American on Dad’s so my version of pale wasn’t exactly pasty, but to me, there was a difference.
The only time I was outside of the house was for school, the occasional trip to the doctor, and to go the library. It had become a sort of refuge. My head hurt too bad to read sometimes, but when I was able, I would tear through the books. Before all of this, I was busy with cheer practice and football games. My best friend Frankie and I went shopping, to parties that we really shouldn’t have been at, and hung out at ea
ch other’s houses.
Now, Frankie Johnston made my life a living hell. We had been friends our entire lives until this point. We were just alike in so many ways. I hated to admit it, but it was true. I’d made the losers lick my high dollar heels and laughed while they did it. Now, I was on my knees along with them.
There wasn’t any one moment that made me open my eyes to the terrible shell of a person I had become. I think it was a slow burn. When my health declined, right before cheer camp began this past summer, I slowly distanced myself from Frankie and the other girls on the cheerleading squad. Eventually, Frankie called me out for bailing on them. When she wouldn’t take my excuse of not feeling well anymore, she ostracized me. I could tell she had been waiting for the chance to kick me to the curb.
Soon, I was a fake who had a pill addiction and should be avoided at all costs. If someone was even seen giving me a piece of gum, they were forever banned from the cool kids’ table. I was like the plague and funnily enough, I didn’t care. My head killed me most of the time, so trivial things like popularity meant nothing to me.
That seemed like forever ago. Now, not having friends was lonely, I had to admit. Going from being one of the most popular girls in school to one of the most ignored had its drawbacks. On days like today, when my head felt as if World War III were taking place between my ears, it was bliss. It meant I could go to school, take notes, and come back home without worrying about mundane teenage drama.
Mom dropped me off in front of the school and reminded me, for what felt like the millionth time, that I had a doctor’s appointment. Waving her off, I climbed the steps of Guntersville High School.
The brick building still had the same 1970s style from when it was first built on a grassy hill overlooking the lake. It was a patchwork of hexagonal buildings with tall glass windows. It was a decently sized school, but with over 500 students, and more every year, the city was considering an expansion or a completely new building. It all depended on money.
Some of my classmates were sitting haphazardly on the steps, under the awning, sharing stories of who got sent home from their favorite reality show, while others were cramming for a test. A group of girls a few grades below me were busying gossiping about some “skank hoe” that was going to get her “face messed up” for stealing someone’s boyfriend.
I shoved my earbuds in, drowning out the chatter as much as possible. I didn’t want to melt my brain this early in the morning. Nothing played through the headphones, but it relieved some of the noise. If I was listening to something, then it would probably be music my dad wouldn’t approve of one bit. He loved classic rock, and I was more of an R&B person.
Lately, I was more into instrumental, mainly violin. The vocals of my regular music just grated my nerves. Dad loved playing Led Zeppelin while he was working on cars. I’d watch him from my bedroom window, wishing I felt well enough to join him.
Getting to my first class was always a hassle. My locker was located past the Jock hang out and each time I had to walk by, Rob Hastings had to say something dirty. It didn’t matter how much I tried to ignore or avoid him. He was always there. It was like he had an Ava sensor because like clockwork, there he’d be.
“Ava! There you are,” his thick country accent assaulted my ears, even through the earbuds. “What? No hello for your old pal? Come on! We have a lot of steamy history, you and me.”
It was true, unfortunately. Rob and I had dated for a while last year, back when I was cheerleader captain and he was star of the football team. Going out together just made sense back then. Besides, he was smoking hot with beach boy blond hair and green eyes that always made me think of spring. Right now, they made me think of gangrene.
Trying my best to ignore him, I headed for my locker. My head was pounding and as I turned the knob on the lock, I was becoming more irritated; the combination wasn’t coming to me. By the time Rob leaned against the locker beside me, I had messed up twice.
“Ava, I know you can hear me,” he leaned over and talked into my ear, “There isn’t ever any music coming out of those stupid earbuds.”
I wanted to punch him. I wanted to punch him so badly that I could imagine his nose crumbling under my fist and blood running down that maroon Wildcats jersey he was wearing.
“How about you and I go out tomorrow?” he was saying as I finally got my locker to open. I wanted to shove it in his face, but he moved. “We can recreate some of our…more intimate moments, huh? What do you say?”
I was shoving books in my backpack, not answering, and when I tried to shut my locker, Rob held it open. Finally, I looked up at him. He was smiling at me, those green eyes I had once found appealing, looked menacing.
“Let go of my locker, Rob,” I said, taking the earbuds out.
“She speaks,” he said as his friends joined him, all laughing. “So, what do you say? Do you want to go to the Lookout?”
“In your dreams. Now let go of my locker,” I repeated, my head feeling like it was going to blow at any minute, showering my classmates with brain matter.
“What? It’s not like we haven’t been there before, baby.” He ran his eyes up and down my body. “I already know what I’m in for.” He winked.
“Is that what you’ve been telling everybody?” I laughed, but inside I was dying. “I’m glad all of you losers like going around talking about all the girls you’ve nailed out at the Lookout, but I’m not one of them. I doubt you’ve taken anyone out there, Rob. And if you’ve done anything at all, it’s probably been with Mr. Hand. Now get your girlfriend off of my locker or I’m going to break her.”
“You, bi—” he was about to say, but was interrupted by someone who walked up behind me.
“I think she means it, man,” the rough voice said. “Move it.”
Rob looked over my shoulder, and I watched his face pale in an instant. He looked at his buddies, but could tell he would get no help from any of them.
“Whatever.” Rob shook his head and left, followed by his football brothers.
I turned to see who had backed me up and found Gabriel Matthews standing there in all his black leather glory. No wonder Rob took off like a dog with its tail between its legs.
Gabriel’s movie star black hair was down to his shoulders and his cool grey eyes looked down at me with a certain amount of interest. He really looked down at me because Gabriel had to be the tallest person in our school. He even towered over the teachers.
He scratched the stubble on his chin and I couldn’t help but stare at the tattoo that peeked out from the top of his black t-shirt. It had to cover his entire chest.
People could almost swear he had failed 12th grade three times, but he was one of the smartest kids in our school. He was a shoo-in for Valedictorian, but that didn’t mean he had a ton of friends. There was just something off about him that made the rest of us steer clear.
“Um, thanks,” I told him, shutting my locker door, which at the moment sounded like a cannon going off.
“How long have you had them?” he asked me as I started walking toward my class.
“What?” I asked, noticing people staring at us as we walked together.
“The migraines,” he said it in a way as if that should have been obvious.
“It’s been almost six months,” I cut my eyes at him, “How did you know I had them?”
“I could tell,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I know what it’s like.”
“You have them, too?” I stopped at the door in front of my class.
“I’m glad you finally stood up to Rob. The guy’s a jerk.” He didn’t answer me. “Looks like you’ve got a new student.”
With that he walked away, leaving me reeling with all the things he said and just talking to him in general. I walked into my class, taking my seat and not really paying attention to anything my teacher was saying.
Gabriel had never spoken to me the entire time we had been going to school together. Granted, I had never spoken to him either. He was just one of
those people that wasn’t on my radar. Sure, I’d noticed him, Frankie had tried dating him for years, but it was clear that he wasn’t interested in anyone here.
Pulling out my books and paper, I didn’t notice the girl sitting next to me until she tapped me on the shoulder. I jumped so hard that I knocked the desk in front of me with my knee, which hurt like I had shattered my knee cap, and made Holley Adams, another one of my former friends, glare at me with hatred.
“What is your problem, Black?” she snapped.
“Nothing, what’s yours, Adams?” I glared back, surprising myself with how snarky I’d become today. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, so turn around and mind your own business.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve talking to me like that.” She pushed back her braided hair.
“And who are you? Queen of the World?” I laughed. “I’m not in the mood for you to go on a tirade about how much better you think you are and how terrible and low I am. So shut that gaping hole in your face and turn around.”
“I hope there isn’t a problem back there, girls,” Mrs. Swanson piped up.
“No, ma’am,” the girl next to me answered. Her British accent caught everyone’s attention. “They were telling me how to get to the gym. Seeing as how I am new to your lovely school, I’m afraid I am terribly lost.”