Monday, August 21, 2017

Snippet Time. Check out an upcoming Federal Witch Tale. #01


The last thing I remember was a fireball coming straight for me. Set saved me, I think. Rubbing my head I jerked my hand away in shock! “Where is my hair?”

Hair, hair, hair. The sound of my voice echoed all around me. Sitting up I could see I was in barely lit room, rock walls with just a cot to sleep upon. Gone was my dress and every expensive Loubetin shoes. I was in a rough wool robe barefoot. Rubbing my arms I could feel numerous cuts and barely healed scratches. What happened to me?

Concentrating I tried one of the very few charms I remembered from my childhood. Like a whirlwind much of the past few days came back to me. Agatha Blackmore! Her return to Briarwood is what started it all! In my mind I could see my spell of desperation and the way she blocked it. It was her! She is who did this to me!

 “Arrrgh!” I screamed to the heavens and blasted the door with the strongest fireball I could summon. The wood was already blackened from flame and took the hit without a shudder. Already breathing heavy I blasted it again. And again.

“Why!” Disregarding the hot surface I pounded on the door continuing to scream.

Collapsing to the floor in despair I gazed at my bruised and battered hands. Blood dripped onto the floor leaving little smears every time I shifted my body.

The redness of the blood drew my eye. In the dim light it was a deep red that sucked you down into what felt like the depths of hell. In that hell I remembered more of the past. Horrible and horrendous things. Peter. He needed to learn his place. He was a puppet. Someone to see to my wishes and be there as support. He wasn’t allowed to think or reason. That is what memory charms and spells were for. To bend and twist those who disagreed with you. Even your children.

Children. I wondered how my two girls are. Winter is most likely sucking up to that bitch of a niece at this very moment I bet! Fire appeared at my fingertips as I threw another fireball. This one hit the cot, destroying it.

Why is the whole world against me! The memories continued to lash my brain. 

I saw myself destroying the house one chunk of furniture at a time. Piece by piece by piece I smashed and tore at the things that filled the house I no longer wanted and the town I could no longer control. Peter was just another one of those things. Only Henry mattered and he was long gone.

Another memory clawed it’s way to the surface at the mention of Henry. “No! I buried you! I will not remember that! NO!”

Grabbing my head I moaned as the long hidden memory broke through.

“I’m sorry Mrs Fredricks but he didn’t survive. The crash was too sudden. Henry was thrown from the boat into the lake. He wasn’t wearing a life preserver and due to his inebriated state was either unaware or unable to swim to shore.” Captain Jenkins, the State patrol representative bowed his head.

“No. He can’t be dead! The promises he made to me and to our children.”

“I am sorry, Ma’am.” The State patrolman stepped back a pace.

Shaking my head no I grabbed the policeman’s arm. “I need to see his body! Where is he?”

“The morgue I believe.”

“Take me there! Right now.” My only thought was my husband.

Dropping the girls with a neighbor I followed the police to the county morgue. The building was a dark imposing concrete structure I didn’t know existed in our part of the State. Ignorance can be bliss. Captain Jenkins passed me off to one of the administrators at the main desk.

“Name?” The bored civil servant barely looked up at me.

“Camilla Fredricks. My husband is supposed to be here.” I looked around the room in desperation. He just couldn’t be dead!

“Sign here please.” The man laid a sheet of paper in front of me.

“What’s this?”

“A receipt for your husbands personal effects.”

“No! He can’t be dead! Show me his body. Right now.” I threw the paper back at the man.

“Mrs Fredricks the coroner isn’t finished with him yet. I can schedule a time…” He never finished his statement for he stood frozen staring at me in surprise. I barely remember casting the spell.

My fingers still tingling I walked through the door that read law enforcement only. Henry made promises to me. It had to be a mistake.

The morgue contained only two operating rooms and a very large cooler. A lone white clad man stood over a still form on a table. Medical instruments lay on the table next to him. “The subject is approximately six feet in height with black hair. Slight contusions can be seen along the skull as well as upper body. Incident reports indicate trauma occurred when the subject was throw clear of the vehicle he was…”

“Is that him? Is that my husband?” I pointed to the still form.

“Ma’am you can’t be in here! You need to leave.” The doctor, if that is what he was turned toward me and pointed at the door.

Waving my hand and muttering the spell I froze him to the floor. My only thought was on Henry.

“What have they done to you sweetheart?” His body was cut open from chest to navel. Henry’s once strong face was crushed and misshapen. A faint odor of alcohol hung over him.

I slapped what was once my husband across the face. “Bastard! You promised me. No more drinking you said. Lies! Was it all lies? Damn you to hell!”

Shaking my head I cried out in pain. “NO! I will not remember this part. It’s forbidden.” The memories paid me no heed and continued to batter my soul.

As if watching a television program I could see myself place both hands on my dearly departed Henry and make a plea to my patron God.

“Mighty Set! You promised me I would have companionship I can’t live without him. It isn’t possible that he’s dead.” In my mind’s eye I watched as I laid both hands upon my husbands broken body and willed life back into him.

Marcella, my mother, taught me very little Magick before I shunned her ways. But she did instill in me some of the most important rules. Never change the unwilling. Never tamper with nature. And never ever tamper with the dead. Necromancers and those that follow the so-called left-hand path were considered outlaws by the Witches Council. That name carried with it a death sentence. So the shocked look upon my past self’s face was real. My dead husband was no longer bound to the Earth!

“No, no, no!” I pushed the body on the table back down as it tried to sit up. Henry’s bruised and battered face stared at me as a faint moan escaped his lips. I thought for a moment that he was asking why.

My past self shook her head and looked around. The only two witnesses were frozen in place and unmoving or seeing. Henry struggled to stand up. His body wobbled here and there as his animated corpse tried to gain traction on the floor. Unlike the zombie movies that mundanes were so obsessed with he didn’t desire brains or human flesh. It would be almost comical if he didn’t represent my death. He couldn’t stay here and our house would be the first place law enforcement looked. I remember seeing a sign that read cremation room.

Dragging a two-hundred pound man even twenty feet would have been a chore. Having him walk under his own power was almost worse. Zombies don’t navigate all that well.

“Left!” I shouted yet again. Not wanting to touch Henry’s cold body I was pushing him along with a couple of tools that might have come out of my kitchen. The spatula looking thing was useless as a prod but seemed to work to wave him in like I was landing something. The ladle worked to prod him. I didn’t want to even imagine what it was used for here. Fortunately for me, it was dark outside. Only the coroner and the State Police Captain were in the building. The crematorium looked a bit like an industrial smoker. Put the body in on one end and pull out the ashes at the other.

“Get in the hole. Henry! Get. In. The. Hole.” I pushed and prodded my dead husband to the entrance. He moaned and waved his arms at me. Henry’s motor functions were getting better as he gained more strength. It had to be the Magick’s fault I had to get rid of him soon or he would be far too strong to do this too.

There was a flat sliding tray that extended out of the hole. Giving the switch a push it slid out on it’s own. One hard push and Henry was sprawled out upon it. “Sorry Henry. I hate you for leaving me and the girls but you can’t be seen. Who would take care of the Winter and Autumn when the Council kills me?”

One push of the button and it was all over. I ignored the muffled moans as the purifying flames destroyed everything. The County had yet to install cameras in here so I was safe. Memory charms were some of the very first spells I learned how to do from my teachers and the two frozen officials never knew what hit them.

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