31st October
Samhain. Day of the Dead.
Yet she still lives.
Another picture drawn. Will she heed this one?
- Vera
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I set out the carved pumpkin and lit the candle inside.
'Twas all hollows eve. Samhain. The day of the dead. Halloween.
Trick-or-treaters would soon come knocking.
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I sighed, returning inside, feeling nostalgic. It was a day the veil was at its thinnest. I wondered who, if anyone, would come to visit us this year.
The table in the kitchen was set. Pictures of family members, food and drink and four empty placemats sat nicely.
It was customary to offer food and set a place for loved ones that had passed.
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With the flick of my hand, "Incendia." All the candles around the house set ablaze, and the lights turned off.
I joined my mother and brother in the living room, huddled around a table. My mum shuffled tarot cards whilst talking to my brother animatedly.
We would leave later in the night after the tricker-treaters left.
The ghouls came to play at night, and witches party with them.
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Our large group met at the brow of Pendle Hill.
Tragedy. Innocents condemned to death. Every year, we say a small prayer and leave a ribbon on a branch as a remembrance before walking down into the deep forest.
And today was no exception.
However, I was shocked to see Nixon. He kept quiet; his aura shrunk. Winnie held his arm, and they walked on. Quinn's slight smile and kind eyes told me everything.
Seri's magic sprung around her. A sky-blue glowing against the dark contrast of the night. This year was her turn to put the ribbon around a branch. Her strawberry blonde illuminated, matching her sky-blue magic, and her eyes looked as deadly as ice as her magic grew.
I could hear squeaking; it sounded more like ropes tightening as Seri's hands danced around. Her palms faced downwards, and green vines wrapped around her legs, hoisting her up. The vines grew tall enough for her to comfortably reach the lowest branch on the old tree.
With the black ribbon secured, we left water and fruits at the tree trunk while Seri's vines shrunk back into the ground, gently placing her down.
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Orange and red leaves crunched as we all walked, talking, gathering sticks as we came across them and sharing stories. Particularly ghost stories.
I couldn't help but laugh lightly as Freya and Luna's eyes widened at Devan's chilling story. The wind picked up, whistling through the trees. Chilling the two girls more, but I could see the little glow from Devan's hand. He made the leaves dance in front of the girls, making them scream.
The adults turned to see the commotion but only saw the grinning and laughing from the children.
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"Here we go," Travis announced.
We came across a vast clearing. Multiple backpacks were placed on the ground. Each contained something different. Drinks, food, blankets, candles and incense.
The sticks and wood gathered from our walk were placed onto a pile, and with a slight flick, it roared to life. The circle commenced.
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We welcome all spirits and deities,
Those who have left us recently,
And our ancestors that visit us today.
Welcome.
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We began to move as one, and breathing deeply, I relaxed. My magic untangled, quickly rising with the others, blurring into the tornado of energy being created.
Freedom.
This is how it is meant to be. I rejoiced in the feeling of wholeness. Being one with myself and with my coven.
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The bonfire continued to crackle and provide warmth from the cold night. I sat between Leo's legs with a blanket around us. Food and drinks and stories of good memories from those who had departed were shared around.
The wind whistled through the trees, and the leaves picked up, moving like spirits walking and dancing around.
Quinn and Deven sat next to us, copying our embrace, but Quinn had a sketch pad and pencils with her.
She had developed her channelling to the point where she did not need to be asleep. With the veil thinned, her natural ability flourished even further as the pencil mark accumulated over the page.
Whenever she finished, Quinn simply flipped to a new page.
"Um, Lexi?" Deven's voice reached my ears.
Finishing the swig of mulled wine, I turned to the pair. His eyes moved from mine to Quinn's page, causing me to look.
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I was too far away to see details. It was mostly in shades of red and green. Quinn concentrated. She was in the zone, concentrating on a figure standing amongst flames of red. Shuffling closer, I looked over her sketch.
It was evidently a female with long hair. Facing the viewer, her eyes are red, and her hair matches. Quinn focused on the nose, but the eyes and round cheeks were a dead giveaway.
It was, once again, a drawing of me.
Dread and fear grew in my stomach as I took in the scene.
It was these very woods. Flames engulfed trees. Some fell as the trees took them.
"You look so angry," Devan whispered.
I felt Leo shift behind me, "Let's wait until she's finished," he murmured.
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Nothing much was left to add. It was unmistakable. It was me. Setting fire to trees. As Devan said, I looked angry. Quinn even made my eyes look glassy, and tears threatened to spill over. I had become the flame.
Another prediction. I just hoped this one would not end in death this time.
The sun was rising as we made our way back home. Leo took the drawing out of my hand.
"Hey!" I said, reaching for it.
He only lifted it higher, making me jump for it, smirking as he did so. I raised to my tiptoes.
He kept his smirk as he raised it impossibly higher. He took my waist as I leaned in closer, nearly tripping over.
"I need your attention more than this piece of paper," he pouted.
Realising what he was up to, I couldn't help but smile.
"You always have my attention." I tried to step back only to be trapped, caged in by his arms.
"I don't think I do…"
He leaned over me and captured my lips.
"Now, you do." I matched his smirk.
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Later that morning, I awoke in a sweat. Once again, I was plagued by that night at Whitby Abbey.
Groaning, I threw an arm over my eyes as the light blinded them. The songs of the birds reached my ears.
Blinking, I woke up more and rolled over to look at the clock.
Only to find I was not a bed. A plant hit my face.
Caw! Caw!
'Maybe… I am actually dreaming, and maybe… I am not-'
"Lexi?" Echoed Leo's voice.
"God damn it," I uttered.
The Astral.
"There you are." Leo emerged from the trees to the left of me.
A tight smile came over my face. "Hello again."
He sat beside me, and I heard an unfamiliar sound as I sat up.
Gronk, Gronk!
I watched a slightly larger bird shoo off the three crows watching. Leo groaned.
"I know that call," he uttered, "Though… It has been a while since we were last here…"
"True. Do you think she will show?"
"Hm. Probably."
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The raven landed in front of us. Wings folded, and it just stared.
"Yes?" I ask, feeling funny.
"He likes you." A woman's voice echoed before revealing herself.
"Shame I don't like its owner," Leo deadpanned.
"Now, now," Morgan said.
Leo was right. She looked just like Derek, only female and older.
Long black hair and charcoal eyes to match. Her aura was not as sinister as I had imagined. Something didn't sit right.
"You're Morgan?" I piped up, eyes narrowing.
She nodded once with a small smile, "Pleasure."
I shook my head, thinking back to the curse.
"Your aura is different…"
"Aura?" She looked just as confused as I did.
"What are you talking about, Lex?" Leo whispered.
"The Curse." Leo's eyes widened.
"What Curse?" Morgan coaxed.
After a short moment, I looked back at Morgan, "The one you put on Cynthia."
"That I put…?" Morgan was taken aback.
"Cut the shit. Da saw you plain as the moon with an Athame casting a curse." Leo piped up in anger. Morgan's eyebrows scrunched together as she pinched them.
"Leo," I put my hand on his shoulder.
"It's probably different cause she had help." Leo accused.
"I have no idea what you are on about." Morgan defended.
"Bullshit. If it wasn't you, then who could it have been?" Leo's voice echoed around as I awoke to my alarm.
'If it wasn't her… Who else could it have been?'
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Blackspit
Caw! Caw!
The crow hopped about on the floorboards.
Blackspit sat amongst the destruction. She was still angry. That was the second time she tried to get rid of that thing. No matter what she threw, burned, smashed, or hit, her anger didn't subside.
The first plan was nearly perfect. The thing would die while removing the curse and a genius move parading as Morgan and making sure to be caught. The screamer came back tired and depleted. The thing managed to overcome her beautiful curse. Nixon should have kept that bastard lock on.
Then, she practically gave the thing to Cornelius to use and play with. The job was simple.
Kill her.
She stayed in an iron cage and watched to ensure the job was done. She was grinning like a madwoman at the pain that was inflicted.
He had to torment and play with his food. No matter.
Vitamortum was quickly placed into its brain. She made sure of that.
She knew to get out of there when she noticed the two Fae watching. She could not let Morgan find out her proper side.
Yet. Blackspit should have made sure the thing was as good as dead.
But no, she foolishly left before the job was complete. Now more potent than ever, the thing was back and stuck to him like glue. It made her blood boil and her teeth grind.
He would be hers. This she vowed years ago.
She threw a broken piece of wood at the wall. It shattered further, splintering. It causes the Murder to scatter.
Caw, caw, caw!
She huffed, angry and short. The building was abandoned. No one would disturb her for miles. She must come up with another plan. Something had to split them apart. Death would come to it eventually, and Blackspit could not make the same mistake twice.