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Jason's Journal


Jason's Journal

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2 entries this month
 

The Vampire the Witch and the Bonfire...part 3

21:11 Mar 31 2005
Times Read: 819


The Boonies - Virginia



Silence. It seemed as if even the creatures that made the woods their home sensed that something quite dramatic was taking place. The typical woodland audiotrack of insects and scurrying critters ended abruptly with the wet, meaty thunk of sharpened wood penetrating flesh. The fire competed with the sound of the nearby river. Crackling pops were underscored by water passing over stones and between the muddy banks.



“You missed.” I said, drawing the “stake” from my chest. It slid free with a wet, sucking sound. And yes, it hurt. It was certainly not the pain that comes with immolation, but a special kind of pain. There was a very real pain that radiated from the wound throughout my entire being, wrapping itself around the implied pain of a true death. Almost as though the one served as a warning for the other. Warning that Oblivion was watching and he wasn’t happy that only a few inches and the poor aim of a young girl had cheated him.



I glanced at the makeshift weapon in my hand. So crude yet so effective if wielded correctly. The blood from my last feeding dripped from the sharpened end. I flung it into the darkness and absently noticed the dog scamper after it. He seemed to think the game was still on. It was, after a fashion. The rules, however, had suddenly changed considerably.



I looked into the eyes of the child who had just murdered me and thought to myself, “Can you murder one who is already dead?”



For someone who had struck with such conviction, I saw only fear in her eyes, as her hand and arm fell away from my chest, flopping like a dead appendage at her side. Whatever was keeping my mind from hers slowly collapsed as her thoughts turned from protection to terror. She was right to be afraid. As my pain subsided and my wits returned I dove into her thoughts, brutally digging for answers. Why had she attempted to destroy me? What could motivate one so young to do something so rash? Her eyes rolled back into her head and only the whites showed as I peeled away layer after layer of memory and thought. None of the witches around the fire moved as the young girl began to sag forward. She moaned as my hand caught her by the throat just as her legs gave way along with her bladder.



Only my hand around her slight neck kept her from collapsing onto the soft, cold earth. Primal fury drove me to discover why such an affront to my person, my very being has been committed. Suddenly, I found the answer. My thoughts grasped at her reasons and my rage intensified.



“She just wanted to know if it would work!” Cried one of the witches, incredulously, from beyond the fire.



“Apparently,” I forced between grinding teeth. My hand began to tighten around the fragile neck of young Miss Cassie. “And you knew she was going to do this? I can’t read you. Open your thoughts to me or this gets messy.” The witch stopped shielding and I knew that none of the coven was party to Cassie’s little stunt. The woman had read the girl’s mind as I had. Not that they were innocent of foul motives. No, it seems that I was to have been donating my blood willingly or otherwise at some point during the evening. They weren’t even sure they could take it against my will but they definitely seemed willing to try. I wonder if they knew that the blood running through me has been “borrowed” from someone else and wasn’t truly mine at all. Before I could dig any deeper, the wall around her thoughts snapped back into place. I narrowed my eyes and glared at her and the girl in my hand moaned as my fingers tightened.



“No! Don’t!” the witch pleaded. I knew now that this woman was her mother and quite desperate so save her foolish little girl. “Please,” she said, sobbing. “Don’t hurt her. She’s young and rash. You’re going to be fine, it seems.” She was looking at the hole in my chest that was slowly mending before her eyes. I dropped the unconscious child to the earth and began to move toward the mother.



The night sounds were slowly coming back, and with them I heard several of the coven-member begin to chant softly. I moved back to the limp body of the girl fast enough to blow the fire against the wind. It was obvious none of the women around the fire saw the movement. For them it must have seemed that I was one place then instantly back on the other side of the fire. Needless to say, they were surprised, yet they continued chanting.



Kneeling next to the girl, I pulled her hair back, exposing her throat. “I don’t know much about witchcraft, ladies, but I do know that if you don’t all shut the hell up, this little trinket is lunch!” To emphasize my point I bent forward, pressing my teeth into the flesh of her throat. With just the pressure of a breath I could open her skin to the night. All chanting stopped abruptly. I stood slowly, dragging Cassie’s slack form up with me, again, by the throat.



I backed toward my car, keeping my eyes on the witches of this misguided coven. Only my original companion and Cassie’s mother followed me to the front of the house and into the driveway. My former companion drew a breath, and opened her mouth as if to speak. “Save it.” I said before she could even get the first word out. “I’m leaving. Period. All I want to do is put as much distance as possible between me and you bunch of crazies.” As I opened the driverside door to my car felt Cassie begin to stir and held her out to her mother. The girl moaned again, as she began to recover from the combination of shock and mental assault. “You should keep your brat on a leash until she’s house trained, witch.”



Leaving the girl with her mother I moved to the pickup in the driveway. “Just in case you get any ideas about following me out of here.” I raised a fist and drove it into the hood of the truck with all of my strength. The vehicle rocked violently as the force of my blow impacted the metal. I bent down to check under the truck and saw with satisfaction that the front axle was sufficiently warped, meaning the engine probably wasn’t in any condition to start. The two witches just stared at me, wide-eyed.



Dusting my hands together as if they were soiled, I went back to my car and eased into the driver seat. To my surprise, in the seat next to me was the dog I’d been playing fetch with earlier. In his mouth was the “stake” that has nearly ended me. The animal made a kind of “woof” noise, began to wag his tail and dropped the bloody stick in my lap. Wimpering a a bit, the dog licked blood from the “stick” from his muzzle. I thought to myself that this could have some interesting ramifications, as I patted the dog on his head. “Ok, you can come, too. For all I know, you were going to be desert after the roasted marshmallows.” The animal seemed to take this in stride and curled up in the passenger seat like he’d been doing it all of his life.



The woman I had started the evening with stepped up to the window of the car and knocked on the glass. I started the car and thumbed the button, lowering the window. “What?” I growled.



“Hey! How are we supposed to get out of here?” she exclaimed. “That truck was our only ride!”



I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at that. “You’re a witch, right?” I picked up the bloody broomhandle and tossed it out the window to land by her feet.



The dog barked as if he got the joke. I patted his head again, “Good dog.” I turned and drove down the driveway. Before I turned onto the main road, I looked in the rearview and saw my former companion glancing incredulously between stick at her feet and my car as I pulled away.



As I drove down the dark roads of B.F. Virginia, I wondered aloud “Think we can find our way out of here before the sun comes up, Dog?” He just wagged his tail and put his head in my lap. “Yeah, me too.”

COMMENTS

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Practical Magick Part 2

20:04 Mar 01 2005
Times Read: 855


Virginia, USA



I should have known something was amiss when the drive out to the bonfire took over an hour. By the time we found the place, after too many U-turns, we were out in The Boonies. Not your usual run of the mill boonies. Oh no. I mean The, capital T, Boonies, capital B. The woods were thicker than cooling blood and the roads were more like tire ruts. There were fields on either side of the “road” with barbwire fences seemingly protecting some sort of head-high weed. Maybe it was wheat, or barley. I really don’t know. The bottom line is that it was dark, and I was driving in the middle of nowhere with no way to turn around unless I plowed over fence and some poor farmer’s crops. Don’t think for a second that wasn’t prepared to do just that. Here I am, a creature of the night, and I’m getting twitchy about riding in a car with two witches. In the middle of nowhere after getting lost half a dozen times. On a dirt road. And I’m heading God knows where.



“Turn here!” said my newest friend, pointing up a long driveway. If I couldn’t see perfectly in this moonlit darkness, I might have told her where she could stick her “turn here!” But, I could see just fine. Down the drive, in the distance, stood a house. It looked as though there might be a fire burning beyond said domicile. So, up the drive we went, gravel crunching under the tires. There was a late model pickup parked on the gravel close to the house. The license read “XXMAJIK.” Cute.



I parked the car on the crass next to the truck and looked at the house that stood on the hill about 50 yards from the fire. I know next to nothing about architecture, but the place looked normal, if not a bit old. It was probably built in the 70s, I guessed. The 1970s. Let me clear that up. The house was a three-story affair, but I think the third floor was more of an attic. It had windows, though. Sort of like the Amityville house. Sort of. I opened the car door and was greeted by the growling of a medium sized boxer mix. He just stood there, hackles raised, growling deeply in his throat and bearing a wicked set of teeth. I hissed and flashed him mine. The animal yelped and scampered off toward the fire and the people surrounding it.



“Show off,” said my former companion. “Be nice to the doggy, he’s a sweetie.” She smiled, sweetly.



“Remember, love,” I replied, “I haven’t fed, tonight. Annoying dog works for me, unless you want to volunteer.” Her smile slowly faded as the look in my eyes left no doubt that I wasn’t joking.



There were several women gathered around the bonfire. They were laughing and seemed to be having a good time. A very festive atmosphere, I suppose. I wasn’t feeling very festive. It was that I-can’t-sense-the-witches thing, again. If it wasn’t bad enough that I had traveled here with two of them, now I was in the middle of a veritable gaggle. Well, I guess the correct term would be “coven.” What the hell do I know about such things? I’m still getting the hang of the fact that I have to drink blood and sunlight immolates me. I’m certainly not studying the Idiot’s Guide to Witches and Witchcraft on a daily basis.



I could hear the water flowing between the rock and mud banks as soon as I had opened the car door. There must have been a rain shower upstream, as the current seemed rather fast.

Between the river and the house, about fifty feet from the fire, there was a telescope on the lawn. A portly woman was peering into the side of the scope and loudly urging us to “Come see the comet!” I was keeping my eye on the dog by the fire as we three walked toward the scope. My former companion leaned over to look into the sightglass.



“Is that it right there?” She asked.



“Yes! Yes!” the portly woman, exclaimed. Right next to the last star in Orion’s belt!”



“Yep, I see it.” Stated my once-and-never snack. She was lying. Witch or no witch, I didn’t need a 6th sense to tell me that. I looked up, being somewhat familiar with the night sky. The “comet” she was referring to was actually a dimmer star that is within the constellation. It’s been there for as long as I’d been going to sea. Most likely, it has been there much, much longer.



After placating the stargazing woman, we moved to the fire. By and large, being what I am, I am not a big fan of fires. Any who knows of my awakening to the dark life will certainly understand why. The blaze cracked and streams of small orange embers leaped into the air. They swirled into the night sky on the updraft created by the heat of the flames. Occasionally, larger bits of charred wood; leaves or bark would emerge with a sharp crack and arc away from the central pyre. These flaming bits would start off brilliantly, trailing smoke and light. Their glow would die slowly as they arced to the grass around the bonfire. Sometimes, one of these embers would land between or near one of the sets of gathered feet circling the firebreak that had been created for the blaze. One in a while, the feet would be mine.



Apparently, my discomfort did not go unnoticed by the assembled gaggle. Excuse me…coven. Does 5 witches equal a coven? I’d have to check my Idiots guide. Someone elbowed me and I came out of my reverie. “Don’t let the fire bother you, hon. we won’t let you burn.” The someone was my former companion. “Why don’t you go look at the comet?” I replied with a sneer. She took a half step away from me. Sneering with fangs has that effect, I guess. I chuckled.



I was introduced to two other women who were warming their corpulent forms by the blaze. They were settled comfortable into lawn chairs and smiling. Smiling like cats looking into a fish tank. They seemed pleasant and we talked for quite a while. The highlight came when they began trading religious jokes and anecdotes. I’ll say this; pagans have some great Catholic jokes. They were all roasting marshmallows and I was beginning to settle into the festivities. They were quite pleasant and even the dog was allowing me to throw a stick for him. He was only growling once in a while, and usually when I would fake the throw.



I had just launched the stick into the darkness for the hundredth time when I sensed something behind me. Not everyone here had the metaphysical shielding that the witches shared. The intent of the new arrival washed over me with the forces of a cold, hard wind. I realized that my reaction was too late as I noticed a thin, pale arm snake quickly across my chest from behind.



Pain exploded through the center of my being. All conversation stopped and someone yelled “Cassie, no!” I looked down, and as the bolts of agony that had coursed through my body began to subside, I saw a young girl move around me and into view. She was maybe fourteen. She has blond hair, braided to hand down over each shoulder. My eyes moved from her hair, down her arm and to ended at her delicate hand. Her fingers were still wrapped firmly around the broomhandle that protruded from the bleeding hole in my chest.


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