"Ugh! Fuck! It's too tight." Irwin groaned as he closed his eyes in anticipation. A pleasurable heat blooming within his psyche.
"Don't move too much, then!" Admonished Ella, wiping the sweat off her forehead. The intensity to which she focused upon her work caused her cheeks to blush and breath to come out as nothing more than hot air. "Don't mind the blood. It's normal for stuff like this."
"I know. It's not the blood I'm worried about," Irwin replied as he gazed into her eyes before lurching backwards as the crimson cotton swab whizz past his head. "It fucking hurts. Are you even sure you're qualified for this?"
The two sat atop the balcony of the Greythorne Manor. An incensed Ella dabbing an antibacterial cloth and cotton swab on the gashes of Irwin's head. Except for a few nicks and bruises, Irwin's torso and legs have miraculously healed within days. Astonishing the nurses sent to accommodate him. His head being the only part that needs further healing.
"How many times did I say it now?" She rebuked once more.
"19." He responded.
"Alright, then. Let's make it an even twenty." She said ominously, replacing the blood-soaked cloth for a cleaner one. Before her patient could extricate himself, she pressed the cloth deeper into the gash on the side of Irwin's ear. "You-"
"Ah!"
"Are-"
"Jesus!"
"A Fucking-"
"No!"
"Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!" She threw him a glare before retrieving the gauze and bandaging the wounds in a calm manner, completely contradicting her devilish and torturing persona not mere moments ago.
"I'm sorry, alright? I thought I could take them on with my cards." Irwin reasoned out, glaring all the while. "We had a Witchcatcher. I knew a potent exorcism chant and, you know, I had like super strength and fucking guns."
"And then what happened?" She asked like a stern teacher waiting for her student to admit his mistake.
A very hot teacher, Irwin thought.
"Well, we our shit got pushed in. Hard." He admitted to Ella's smug smile. "Turns out... you can have super strength but it won't do you any good if you can't hit for shit." He scoffed at himself.
"You were too arrogant, Dick. The Ancestor was a fluke. You had too many advantages in that fight." She said, recounting Irwin's first supernatural kill. "You had him counting your steps. He was playing in your tempo, your battle plan. Even then, you came out barely alive. If it wasn't for your magic, whatever, I wouldn't... I would've lost the two most important people in my life that day. Dick." Her eyes turned moist, anger seething visibly.
Irwin smiled at her words. The sincerity hitting deep within his soul. "I'm sorry, Ella. I promise to be more careful." He vowed solemnly.
Ella scrutinized his face before giving a relieved smile. "Good,", She replied. "Now, tell me you next plans." She demanded in a stern tone.
"Probably a lot of training. As I said, gotta control my powers. I had to fix a dozen broken bones before I could come out of that hospital." He began gently patting the bandage on his head to keep it steady as he stood from his seat.
Ella could not help but smile at her friend. Although barely a month has passed since the incident, she had noticed a remarkably different Richard. She packed up the first-aid kit and said, "I know a guy- back in college- who opened up this dojo/gym in Santa Monica. Real stuff too, like Aikido or something. Do you want me to call him?"
Irwin raised a brow as he heard her words. "You know a guy in college, huh? What- Who's this guy? A friend? Some fling? He handsome? He gay? He single?" He hunched forward, eyes training on hers as he showed an amused grin.
Ella snorted before pushing his head off. "Shut up. We're just friends. We met at a club."
Sensing the teasing expression form in his face, Ella smacked him away before he could speak, "Not club-club. School club. Chess club. Should I call him or not?"
"Alright. Alright. Totally not jealous." He said, putting his hands up in defeat. "But, yeah, call him. I think I need to buckle up and do some real work this week. Couldn't die and leave you alone and a widow, you know?"
"You're a dick." She replied as Irwin made for the door.
"The one and only!" He retorted.
●●●Greythorne Manor, 3rd Floor●●●
The floorboard creaked under the heavy footfalls of Irwin's aching feet as he slowly traversed the third floor of the Greythorne Manor, hands holding a silver tray bedecked with fruits, bread and white meat. The thick metal door that separated him from his captured witch came into view. The way was filled with haunting paintings and eery dioramas contorting into a spectacle of artistic carnage only geniuses would take a shine to.
As he traversed the halls, he chuckled at the memory of his arrival with the witch in tow. He had expected a disagreeable welcome from his family - more so from Archibald given the old man's resistance to the further degradation of his family reputation - but was instead met with relieved sighs and worried expressions from the main family.
After giving a pleasant introduction to the captured witch, Irwin asked for a room to imprison Charlotte until he figures out what to make of her. Much to his surprise, Archibald suggested the only empty room on the third floor of the mansion, next to the family's very own witch.
A sudden thud brought him out of his reverie as Irwin's eyes narrowed. His gaze training on the source of the sound. Another clink echoed across the hall as a ship in a bottle fell down its marble pedestal and crashed against the wooden floorboard, releasing ghastly moans from within the shattered glass.
"What are you doing, Peachy?" He asked, rolling his eyes and lowering his tense guard. "You know you just released a damned spirit into the world, right?"
With a surprised squeak, a figure appeared behind the empty marble pedestal. Dressed in a fine yellow-gold dress and sky-blue ribbon sat lovingly atop her head, Annalise pouted at her brother. "Wasn't my fault," She said indignantly, "I didn't know it would break so easily."
Irwin deigned not to respond to her protest, merely boring his eyes at her figure for further answers.
She held her head down, not daring to look up at him. Her dainty feet swiveling anxiously on the ground as her voice came out in a whisper. "I was... I heard there was someone in the room... I'm sorry."
Irwin groaned, placing her tray atop the empty pedestal before kneeling down and lifting her chin up to him. "Peachy. You know the rules. You can't go up in here because it's dangerous. We're all so busy nowadays and we can't take care of you right now, so, please, don't go in here again. Alright?"
"But-"
"No." He said with finality. Irwin sighed once more, seeing her quivering eyes, and acquiesced a little. "Go down, Peachy... And. And if you're good for a week. I'll let you see her."
A broad smile suddenly etched upon Annalise's face, partly for succeeding in her demands and, less importantly, knowing that her charm also works for her newly personified brother. With a skip and a hop, the little girl went down to the stairs, leaving Irwin to his lonesome.
"Your daughter is a menace, Lady Anna." He murmured, picking up the tray and continuing on his trip.
Not a moment later, he arrived upon the metal door, now shining with the unmistaken glow of runic inscription. Apparently, one of Anastasia's bailiwick was Pagan Magic. Specifically, of the containment and illusion variety of the Faes.
"Fáilte"
The inscription seems to lower in intensity until the door creaked open. The room was laid bare before Irwin. Sleek monotone walls cover the chamber. The only furniture within said room is a king-sized bed inside of a circular metal ring humming with the same magic that enchanted the door.
A figure rested atop the large mattress. Her fair skin and fiery red hair contrasted with the dark clothes that covered the bed. A metal collar- the Witchcatcher- still clasped tightly around her neck.
"I know you're awake." He said, walking into the room. He placed the tray at the edge of the circle, enough for her to grab it without activating the effects of the runes. "Feeding time!"
Awoken from her fake slumber, Charlotte rose from her bed and glared at her captor. With aching ease, she stood and daintily picked up the tray. Her form and body emitting a fragility previously unseen when she was freely attacking him.
"You may speak freely. No spells." He ordered, activating a mechanism within the Witchcatcher. "After you eat, state the names of all the spells your mother has taught you."
Without so much as a meek, Charlotte nearly dove head-first into the tray of food. All of which were made by Ella, the only remaining adequate cook in the manor. Not that he would say it to her face lest her head get too big.
For a while, only the silent munching and intermittent groans of Charlotte's mouth filled the bare room. Licking the last of the cream and crab soup, Charlotte placed the tray back down. Her demeanor nary shown a sign of her previous devilish persona.
Charlotte met Irwin's blue eyes with a steely gaze. The latter returning with a dispassionate one. "My mother taught me six spells and a couple of rituals. Although I could teach the spells, the rituals are more complex. They need different catalysts and chants which I don't fully remember."
"That's fine. Expound on the Spells you learned."
She continued, listing the spells and their basic uses. Irwin followed along, taking out a notepad from his pockets and writing the words flowing out of her mouth. Within minutes, six spells were recorded in his notepad.
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• Krousurgy - Allows its caster to control and manipulate all glass surfaces within thirty feet.
• Corpse Puppetry - Once casted upon a living corpse embedded with the Mark Of Subservience, the caster can telepathically order the living corpse.
• Haesod's Skull - A necromantic spell conducted unto a 100-year-old Skull to summon the will of a dead Prophet, Haesod the Guileless. Need to deceive Haesod to conduct and state his prophecy.
• Sleepless Curse - Gives the target creature vicious nightmares whenever they sleep. Also drains a bit of their vitality whenever the nightmares end. Needs the target creature's tears to activate.
• Bloodline Compass - The spell will unleash a wave in the direction of the nearest creature with the same bloodline as the blood catalyst. The waves appear every ten minutes until the caster enters within one hundred meters of the target creature, the caster loses concentration on the spell, or the target creature dies.
• Avian Fever - The target creature fears birds of any kind. ANY KIND!
■■
Finishing the chicken scribble, or as Irwin likes to call it, his penmanship, on his notepad, Irwin let out a satisfied nod. Though the witch focused more utilitarian and curse spells, Charlotte has given him quite the gift with her divulging the spell she used to kill her mother. He already plans to prioritize the spell as well as buy broken bullet proof glass. If he mastered Krousurgy, then he would have two offensive spells in his bag-of-tricks.
Irwin paused for a second and checked his system if the spells were recorded in his skill set, but, alas, any hopes of cheating popped like a bubble.
"I'll come back for dinner," He reminded as the subtle whispers of magic begin to engulf the circle that surrounds Charlotte.
Seeing the magic circle activate, Charlotte hurriedly opened her mouth. "Please! Just let me go and I'll forget everything that's ever happened. I won't come back for you. I'll leave the country, even the continent," She pleaded, tears welling in her sunken eyes. "I-I just want to be free. Please, I'll do anything!"
A smile graced Irwin's face. Multiple thoughts racing through his mind as he faced the captured witch. If he was to be candid, her delicate skin and frail appearance would engender arousal even to the mightiest of men but, alas, Irwin is no mere man. He's a hunter.
"Come, now, witch. It's best if you succumb to your position as soon as possible. No one will save you, no one will free you. In fact, the only thing keeping you alive is your untapped potential." His smile slowly turned into a menacing grin. "Untapped, being the operative word. Just give me a few weeks and I'll see to it that your magic be of use to me. If you survive the ordeal, then, hey, you're good to go. If you don't, then think of it as... karma. The consequence to your murder spree. So, be a good girl and shut the fuck up!"
As if God herself gave a mandate, Charlotte felt his words clamping upon her dignity and collar. The Witchcatcher reactivated within seconds, preventing her from speaking further. Her silence only exacerbated his solemn footsteps as Irwin closed the door behind him, leaving her alone once again.