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#and (2) Ambrose just after his husband left
echo-goes-mmm · 8 months
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Ambrose and Elliot #27
Masterpost
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Warnings: oral dub-con, implied non-con, starvation, violence
Master and his friends had passed out, finally. After hours and hours of drinking and sex and entertainment, they had fallen asleep. 
It was late, but he couldn’t bring himself to rest. He lay on the floor, naked and cold, dried cum sticky on his sore thighs.
He stared up at the ceiling. His throat hurt, angry bruises blossoming over his skin. One of Master’s friends, Mr. Horneswood, had slammed his head against the floor, and it was only now that his vision had quit fading in and out and his nosebleed had stopped.
Master had never let them be so violent with him before. Beatings and getting choked was nothing new, and Master had chastised them for going too far several times. But not today.
He really thought they were going to kill him this time. He’d never passed out from being strangled before, and they had never hit his head until now, much less slamming it into the hard marble floor. Twice.
Hunger rumbled in his stomach.
He turned his head to see the table. It was half covered in near empty bottles and glasses, but there was food at the end.
He licked his lips. He hadn’t eaten since yesterday, and if everyone was asleep…
He slowly got up, wincing as he went. Master wouldn’t notice if a few rolls went missing. 
Master had put out so much food, and his friends were more interested in getting drunk, so nearly all of of it was untouched.
He ate cheeses and fruit, pastries and rolls, and even dared to sneak some of the delicious roasted duck.
It wasn’t until he was full, sitting next to the table, that he realized.
Master had forgotten his chains.
Usually Master made sure he was in shackles when his friends came to visit, just to be certain he couldn’t get away from their lust.
Not tonight. Tonight he was unrestrained. He hadn’t even noticed until now.
He looked back at Master and his friends. They were still completely passed out, sprawled out on couches and slumped in armchairs.
He could run. There was nothing stopping him.
Nothing, except… what if Master caught him? He would be so angry. Master would beat him to death if he left.
They’ll kill you if you stay, said a tiny part of him. You know they will. You can’t keep doing this.
He bit his lip. Master was all he knew, his everything. It was the only thing he was good at; serving as his slave was his entire purpose. It was what he was made for.
What else could there possibly be?
You are going to die here.
The tiny part was right.
He grabbed his discarded clothes, tugging on the threadbare shirt, boxers, and pants Master had allowed him. 
He stole a cloak off the coat rack and ran out the front door, pulling the hood over his hair.
He ran, and ran, and ran, and his legs hurt and his head pounded but it was better than death and blood and Master.
___________________
He should have stolen some shoes. He limped along, blood from the pads of his feet staining his trail. 
Dawn had come and gone, but he didn’t stop moving. Couldn’t stop moving.
He avoided the roads, instead sticking to the woods. He couldn’t risk being seen yet. Master had horses, and money, and might pay someone to look for him.
It was a hot day. Sweat dripped down his face and soaked his clothes, the salt stinging the cuts on his legs courtesy of the wilderness.
He tripped over a stone early in the night, and torn a toenail clean off, which hurt like hell.
His legs were sore too, knees on fire and thighs chafing from the dried cum and fabric rubbing the skin. 
Maybe it would be worth it to find some water and rest.
___________________
After hours of trekking through the woods, he heard running water. He picked up the pace, jogging towards the sound.
It was a small creek, secluded and quiet. Good.
He stripped off his clothes and waded in. It was freezing cold, goosebumps forming on his skin. He crouched down and drank some of the water, soothing his dusty throat.
He splashed some of the water on his face, wiping away the sweat. He washed off the best he could, and crawled out of the creek. There was a flat rock nearby, and he laid the cloak down on top of it. 
A few hours of rest couldn’t hurt.
___________________
He followed the creek after his nap. It would get to a river eventually, and maybe lead to a town where he could beg for some scraps.
He should have stolen the rest of the food at Master’s house. Idiot.
The creek did get bigger, but instead of bringing him to a river, it ran by a traveler’s campsite. The road must be close.
The campsite had just been used, fresh but cold ashes in the firepit, and fresh horse manure still buzzing with flies.
There were berry bushes nearby (unfortunately inedible ones), and he was struck with a thought.
His white hair was identifiable. No one had white hair, Master said so. Master said he was so pretty with white hair. It was why he was allowed to exist; it made him good enough to live despite being a stupid slave who couldn’t do things right.
Master could find him if his hair was still white.
He pulled off the berries, crushing them in his hands. He slathered his hair with them, staining the white to brown. Much better. He pulled his hood back up and followed the horse tracks to the road.
___________________
The road led to a city, and he kept his head down passing through the gates. The guards didn’t even look at him.
There was a tavern just next to the gates, and the smell of food made him hesitate. It was a busy place, even had some stables attached.
He bit his lip.
He didn’t have any money. He went around the stables, and there was a dumpster out back. He peered into the trash, but he couldn’t see anything he could eat. Damn.
The back door to the tavern opened, and he backed away. Not fast enough, because the tavern owner spotted him immediately.
He scrambled away, but she grabbed him by the arm.
“What’re you doing?” She growled. “You a nasty little thief?” She shook his arm, and he whimpered, shaking his head.
“I- I was just hungry-”
She let go of him and he stumbled backwards into the ground. “‘M sorry! I just wanted to look in your trash!” He started to cry.
“Hmph.” She crossed her arms, staring him down.
“Please don’t call the guard,” he begged, sobbing. “I’ll go away, I swear.”
“I don’t like beggars,” she said. “So come here.”
She was going to hit him, and he deserved it for bothering her. He shakily got to his feet, and limped forward.
“There’s a pile of dishes in the sink. Scrub ‘em.”
“W-what?”
“You scrub the plates,” she pointed at him, “and you get food. That way you ain’t beggin’.”
“Thank you! Tha-”
“Shut up.” She turned and walked inside, and he followed.
There was in fact a sink piled full of dishes, and he got to work scrubbing them clean. The kitchen was hot, but he didn’t dare take off his cloak. He was so hungry he was lightheaded, and the smell of food was torture to the gnawing ache in his belly.
The dishes kept coming, and he ignored the strange looks from the wait staff.
After a few hours, the tavern owner handed him a package wrapped with paper.
“Get out.”
He left without argument, opening the package and eating as he walked.
The sandwich was the best thing he ever tasted.
___________________
The second town he came across, the innkeeper let him sleep in the stables in exchange for scrubbing stains out of sheets. 
The third city tossed him out before he could offer anything, and he stole some apples from an orchard by the road before getting scared off by barking dogs.
He had a bad feeling about this next town. 
The innkeeper was at the counter, and it was not busy at all. It creeped him out. “How many nights?” asked the keeper, a flat tone to his voice as he scribbled in his ledger.
“I, um. I don’t have any money,” he admitted, “but um, is there anything I can do for you?”
The innkeeper slammed the book shut, and he jumped. The innkeeper looked him up and down, leaning back in his chair.
“I’m just hungry,” he said weakly, “do you have any scraps?”
“Nope. Get out.” 
“Please,” he tried again. “I’ll do anything.”
The innkeeper stood up. “I said leave.” He began to shove him outside, and he stumbled, bare heels digging into the wood.
“I’ll blow you,” he blurted, and the innkeeper paused. He held his breath. Why did he offer that?
The innkeeper grabbed him by the arm, dragging him into the back.
The innkeeper tossed him across the room. He swallowed, his mouth going dry. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
The innkeeper stalked forward, and he dropped to his knees, tongue lolling out. The innkeeper unbuckled his belt and he knew what to do.
The innkeeper was rough and impatient, and he let the innkeeper fuck into his throat. He just wanted it over. The man grunted, finishing into his mouth, and he was hungry enough to swallow the cum without hesitation.
“Good enough,” said the man, tucking himself back into his pants, and relief flooded him. “Wait here.”
He got a hunk of cheese and a loaf of bread for the trouble.
“Next time offer your ass,” said the innkeeper with a nasty grin, “and maybe I’ll let you sleep the night.”
He scrambled for the door, laughter trailing behind him. There wasn’t going to be a next time.
___________________
There was a next time.
There were several next times, all of which he tried to avoid but couldn’t if he wanted to eat.
He didn’t sleep in the cities anymore, too scared after someone forced themselves on him while he slept exposed in the stables.
That time, the innkeeper was even angry to find him still in the hay the next morning, and had used a horsewhip to punish and chase him out.
He trudged along the road.
Gods, he was so hungry. He felt faint, a chill to his bones despite the sun beating down on him.
He’d been heading north the whole time, and now the cities and towns were few and far between.
The last stop was pleasant, the woman who owned the lodge only asking him to sweep the floor in exchange for a bowl of chicken and rice.
That was a week ago.
The berry bushes along the road were bare now, the birds plucking them empty. He chewed on tree leaves and ate dandelions when he could, but it did little for his stomach.
Please, he prayed to the gods, I know none of you care, but please.
Maybe he should have stayed with Master.
He shook the thought from his head. Anything was better than Master.
Even if it was starving to death in the wilderness.
___________________
The road became thin and rough. It narrowed down to a single cart wide and he wondered if he had walked to the end. But over the horizon was a blurry shape beneath the setting sun, and he dared to hope it was either a village or that he was finally dying and was hallucinating.
He kept walking.
It was a village, with an inn.
He stumbled through the door as nightfall fell.
The tavernkeeper was at the counter, and there was a small crowd in the dining room.
“Please,” he slurred, ready to offer whatever was left of him.
But the tavernkeeper held up a hand to stop him.
“I’ve heard of you,” he said, and his heart sank. Did Master know too? “You’ll do anything for a meal and a bed for the night, right?”
Not necessarily a bed, but he nodded, the effort making his head pound. 
“I want a private conversation with you in the morning,” said the keeper, his expression hard to read. “That’s all. I'll even throw in breakfast afterwards.”
He stared at the tavern keeper.
“Yes, sir,” he rasped. No one had ever offered him breakfast. Was it a trick? Too keep him here longer, so that Master would come and drag him away?
The keeper gestured for him to sit at the bar, and disappeared into the kitchen.
He returned quickly with a bowl of stew and a crust of bread, and, of all things, a mug of warm cider. 
He never had cider before. Master never allowed him to drink.
The tavern keeper told him where his room (a whole room? with a bed? and a lock?) was, and left him alone to eat.
The food was amazing, and he had to stop himself from scarfing it down and making himself sick. He’d made that mistake before, and completely lost his meal. He remembered crying over the vomit.
The bed was just as good as the food, but he couldn’t close his eyes.
What if the innkeeper told Master where he was? How long would it take Master to come for him?
He rolled over in the bed.
Surely the tavernkeeper wanted more than just talking.
If he were smart, he’d sneak out before dawn. But the keeper promised breakfast, and he wasn’t smart.
He couldn’t pass up two meals in a row. It was too tempting.
He thought about the mysterious generosity of the cider, and the sweet taste of the apples used to make it.
This could be his last night alive before he died by his Master’s hands.
He cried himself into a fitful sleep.
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mldnightxxrain · 2 years
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[ annabelle wallis, cis  woman, she/her. ] ✧·゚ is that [ constance hatchaway ] who just stumbled into town? rumour has it that they’re the [ 38 ] year old originally hailing from [ disney’s haunted mansion ]. if they had to choose a side they would consider themself [ evil ]. i’ve also heard that they’re [ clever ] but [ vain ] and have [ 2 ] child(ren). i could almost swear i heard [ maneater by hall and oates ] playing when they appeared. 
* tw: alcoholism, death mention // @scatteredintros​
𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙲𝚂:
Full Name: constance hatchaway Aliases/Nicknames: connie, the black widow bride Age: 38 Birthday: august 9 Zodiac: leo Occupation: housewife
𝙿𝙷𝚈𝚂𝙸𝚀𝚄𝙴:
Height: 5’7 Hair Color: blonde Eye Color: blue Scars: none Tattoos: none FC: annabelle wallis
𝙵𝙰𝙼𝙸𝙻𝚈:
Mother: emma hatchaway Father: john hatchaway Children: 2 Notable Relatives: ambrose harper - ex husband, frank banks - ex husband, marquis de doome - ex husband, reginald caine - ex husband, george hightower - ex husband
𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙸𝚃𝚈:
Sexual orientation: heterosexual Gender: cis gender woman Pronouns: she/her Species:  human, former ghost
𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈:
Traits: vain, clever, witty, ambitious, cruel, determined, greedy, cold, distant, flirty, calculating, greedy, seductive, thorough, organized, unfeeling, psychotic manipulative, Alignment: chaotic evil MBTI: entj Enneagram: type three , the achiever  Archetype: the ruler Hogwarts House: slytherin Element: fire Pop Culture Kins: mrs. white from clue, georgia miller from ginny & georgia, rosalie hale from twilight, 
𝚂𝙺𝙸𝙻𝙻𝚂:
Languages: english, french Weapon(s): hatchet  Strengths: persuasive, good at math, sewing, cooking, Weaknesses: money, looks
𝙿𝙰𝚂𝚃:
Constance grew up in a small and poor town. She was the youngest of four children. Her childhood was anything but easy, even at a young age. Her parents were poor farmers, who lived in a small town. Growing up, Constance was put to work doing chores around the farm. She hated it. She would rather keep busy by keeping the home. Her mother was a kind and lovely lady, but her father was cruel and an alcoholic. He hated Constance and her mother, abusing both of them regularly. She began to hate him, and most men as a byproduct.
As Constance grew older, she grew more beautiful - too beautiful as some would say. She cared deeply about her appearance, to the point of vanity. Her cruel father would call her awful names. However, Constance’s mother always told her daughter how proud she was of her. Constance always had higher aspirations for her life, which involved more money and a higher social status. The moment the opportunity came to marry Ambrose Harper, son of a long-standing wealthy farming family, she took it. Anything to get away from her poor, abusive father. However, three years into their marriage, Ambrose met his early demise by a hatchet accident - leaving his money to Constance. This wasn’t enough. She wanted more.
She would go to marry five times in total, all meeting their demise by hatchet accidents and leaving their fortunes to her. She never stayed married for too long, with the exception of her last husband George Hightower. Each of her husbands left her more wealth and status than the last. Marrying George, Constance finally had gathered all the wealth and stature she dreamed of. She was finally satisfied, and didn’t completely hate her fifth husband.
However, something that wasn’t part of the plan was having children.  She was anything but a loving mother. If anything, it threw a wrench in her plans. Her firstborn was young when their father died mysteriously. She would marry again before having her second child. She always thought George was soft-hearted when it came to their daughter, and had no problem telling him such. It was twelve years into their marriage before George ultimately met the same fate as her previous husbands. After his death, Constance and her children remained in their mansion.
It was rumored Constance died of old age, and would haunt the attic where the remnants of her past life were kept. She didn’t have many friends in the mansion, keeping mostly to herself and her children.
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matildaofoz · 4 years
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The Harvest Pt.1 (Warlock!Michael x Reader)
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A/N: Happy Halloween, Witches and Warlocks! Here it is, part 1 of The Harvest, the one night of the year were predator and prey come to revel under the Blue Moon. 
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: Cursing and the promise of more to come in Pt. 2
Tag List: @prophecy-is-inevitable​ @jimmlangdon​ @drasangel​ @leatherduncan​ @sexwon131​ @rocketgirl2410​ @9layerdevilfoodcake​ @vulgarprayer​ @michaellangdonstanaccount​ @michaellandgons-sunshine​ @iwillboilyourteeth​ @michael-langdon-owns-my-soul​ 
I hope I tagged all of you who showed interest, if not - I’M SORRY! Forgive me (and shoot me amessage so I can add you for Pt.2)
Fair Maiden,
you are hereby cordially invited to attend the annual celebration and Warlock tradition that is The Harvest.  
Upon the last night of October, you will partake in the ancient tradition as a guest of honor, taking place at the Langdon Estate.
All further necessary arrangements will be divulged to your person at an appropriate time.
We look forward to welcoming you and remain until such time
Sincerely,
Ambrose Holt,
High Warlock
The hand holding the parchment sank into your lap after you finished reading its contents out loud to your mother and stepfather. Confusion and a hint of fear flitted over your features and you began to worry your lip as your eyes skimmed over the contents again in an effort to make sense of them.
“That damned Son of a Whore, Ambrose Holt!” your stepfather cursed, beginning to pace the length of the drawing room.
“John Henry Moore, hold your tongue!” your mother hissed, taken aback by his foul language. Her eyes followed him around the room as she scooted closer to you on the chaise longue to take a look at the letter herself.
“It's all my fault! I never should have taken the two of you back here with me. I was foolish to think that something like this wouldn't happen,” he seethed, running his hands through his dark hair. He stemmed himself off the fireplace mantel, his mind racing at the significance of the letter.
“We'll tell them she won't attend, it's simple,” your mother retorted, placing one hand atop your own still clutching the piece of paper. The look on her face told you that she wanted to believe her own words more than anything.
“Darling, that won't be an option. Once you are invited you have to attend, you do not decline a High Warlock's Summon. This is a direct attack on me in the most barbaric way and I’ve dragged you both into my mess.” A humourless chuckle rumbled from his chest at the admission. Your mother’s hand squeezed yours tightly, lips drawn thin as she watched her husband. This was beyond a nightmare. He needed to come up with a plan, a way to halt the events that had been set in motion but begun a long time before he met you and your mother.
“I need to pay a visit to an old friend,” he muttered under his breath suddenly as he pushed himself off the mantelpiece and rushed for the door.
“Where are you going?” your mother threw after him but he was already out in the hallway.
“I’m going to see Behold Chablis. Don’t wait up for me!” he shouted before the front door slammed shut and the two of you were left in silence.
“It will be alright, Angel. Don’t you worry,” your mother said. She forced a smile and you weren’t sure if her words were meant solely for your own reassurance.
You remained silent, looking down at the letter, an uneasiness settling in the pit of your stomach. If your stepfather sought the council of another warlock when he had sworn of his brotherhood for over a decade, it was a bad omen of things to come. Your eyes traced the elegant penmanship on the page. The Harvest. Whatever it was, it made the skin on the back of your neck prickle.
The letter had arrived that afternoon while you were busy tending to the garden with your mother. John Henry had taken custody of the letter, delivered by a private courier and paled as he saw the High Warlock Council's sigil etched on the envelope beneath your name.
Before your mother's marriage to the Warlock, you had believed the supernatural to be but flights of fancy, parables adorning the pages of children's fairy tales as a way to keep them from misbehaving, whispered his hushed voices over a candle under the guise of a full moon to scare each other. All that changed with John Henry's entry into your life at the age of 12. While he was himself a Warlock, a fact he kept hidden from everyone around him except for you and your mother, he had come to condemn his kind several years before. He felt his brethren had strayed from the righteous path of magick, meant to guide, heal and better the lives of those through who's veins it flowed in favour of a darker, more sinister purpose. At the centre of it, he believed the Langdon's were to blame. They had corrupted those around them, slithering their way even into the High Council itself and changing the fabric of the ancient brotherhood.
He told you what he thought you would need to know when you were old enough to at least partially understand, for your own protection should such a time arise. You were not of his blood but you were his daughter and he had sworn that he would protect both your mother and you. The arrival of the letter had made it clear that the time had come and he wasn't sure he would be able to make good on his promise to you after all.
He did not come back that night and after you mother had retreated to their bedroom, you too went up to your room to ready yourself for bed. However much you willed it, sleep did not come easy. In the darkness of your room, dimly illuminated by the moonlight pouring in from the windows, your eyes were drawn to your writing desk were you had placed the letter. The words kept running throughout your head and the more you thought about them, the less you felt you understood them. With a huff you turned onto your side, squeezing your eyes shut tightly in an effort to stop the thoughts running a mile a minute. It must be past midnight by now and you were no closer to falling asleep. The last day of October was just over a week away and even though you couldn't possibly know what the night held in store for you, you'd be damned if you showed up unprepared. You may not be magically-inclined but you were well-versed in the art of reading. John Henry's library was just down the hall, the myriad of manuscripts and tomes softly calling your name in the dead of night.
“Oh, curse all this!” you muttered under your breath, throwing the blankets off your body and tiptoeing across the room to the door, evading the creaking floorboards that would alert your mother. She was a terribly light sleeper. The air around you was frigid, your nightgown doing nothing to keep out the chill that crept up your legs and over your bare arms. You edged along the wall to your desk, placing the knitted shawl hung over the chair around your shoulders.
Quietly, you inched across the hallway, stopping for a moment to look at your parents closed bedroom door. Silence. Taking it as your cue, you flitted to the door on the far end of the corridor, hoping to God that he hadn't locked it. Gingerly, you pushed down on the handle so it wouldn't squeak. The door swung ajar. Unlocked. With a small satisfied grin, you pushed through the opening and closed it behind you silently. A relived sigh escaped your lips as your eyes struggled to adjust to the dark room, any moonlight blocked out by thick curtains. You had only been in John Henry's study a couple of times, to stand at the threshold as you told him that dinner was ready or to venture in to bring him a cup of tea while he poured over manuscripts behind the large mahogany desk. While he did believe wholeheartedly that a lady should be educated beyond learning to play the piano and housekeeping, he had made it clear that the books in his study were off limits.
“There is nothing in my study that a young lady such as yourself need concern yourself with. The less you know, the better,” his words rang in your ears. You wagered he would be eating his own words right about now, considering the events of the afternoon. You scoffed, as you inched your way across the plush carpet under your bare feet, to where you believed his desk was. Your eyes were beginning to make out the silhouettes of the furniture and soon enough your hip bumped into hard wood. You winched at the the small pain and your hands began to feel out for the box of matches you knew he kept on the desk somewhere. He could easily light the candles or the fireplace in his room with a snap of his fingers because he had shown you. However, he preferred not to, saying it made him feel more like any other man who was not gifted with his supernatural inclination.
“Ha!” you exclaimed as your right hand came upon the match box, your left coming up over your mouth to stifle the sound. Several seconds went by with you as still as a statue as you waited to hear your parents bedroom door creak open. When no sound bar the pounding of your heart reached your ears, you let out a breath, cursing yourself. You couldn't risk being found out when you hadn't even begun to gather any information. Without wasting any more precious time, you swiftly took out a match and light it on the rough side of the box. The flame came to life before your eyes and all you could see was the bright light for several blinding seconds. Your eyes roamed over the desk now bathed in the small flame and you found the candle holder. You took off the glass cover and held the match to the wick, lighting the candle and placed the cover back over the now burning candle to keep it from being blown out. Hooking your finger into the holder, you ventured over to the wall of books, suddenly discouraged from your task at the sheer volume of knowledge stacked into the ceiling-heigh bookcases tat adorned the wall. This was going to be much more tedious than you had anticipated. Your eyes began skimming over the spines, half of what was on them not making any sense to you.
The Seven Wonders, The Musings of one Augustus Bromhold, Lupercalia throughout the Ages, The Warlock's Pocket Guide to Necromancy. You continued along the shelves, some of the books so old that in the dim light you couldn't make out the writing and some didn't seem to have any on the spines at all.
A Complete History of Warlock Traditions
At the title, your mind went back to the letter. The Harvest had been described as an annual tradition so surely, in a book entitled 'A Complete History of Warlock Traditions' it must be mentioned. You peeled the tome from the confines of the shelf and went to sit in the armchair stood next to the cold fireplace in the corner. You placed the candle on the small side table and and opened the book at the back, hoping to reveal the glossary. Having found what you were looking for, you flipped back to the page and began to read, teeth softly gnawing at your lower lip.
The Blood Harvest, an archaic ritual celebration held on the 31st of October was outlawed by the High Warlock Council on 4th April, 1763. Still referred to by outliers of the Warlock Brotherhood simply as The Harvest, in an effort to conceal the brutal nature of the dark rite of passage ritual, it is rarely observed to this day. The High Council has prosecuted the outlawed celebration and of those who oppose the rule of law and remain faithful to the ritual to this day. 
Celebrated annually before its outlaw, the ritual invoked the divine duality. Warlocks and human women, dressed to represent The Horned God and Triple Goddess respectively, partook in the ritual sacrifice on All Hallow's Eve to appease the supernatural beings that stalk the living on the night of the undead. Often cited to bestow great powers on the Warlocks who successfully complete the ritual rite of passage with one of the women selected, it is now widely regarded as nothing more than bloodshed, sacrificing those unfortunate and unknowing females to a slow and painful death at either the hands of the Warlocks if they so choose or the creatures invoked as formidable foes to the young men as a way to prove their supremacy over the dark forces and step into adulthood.
A cold shudder ran down your spine as your eyes read over the passage, letting the book sink into your lap. How was it possible that a High Warlock invited to you to an outlawed tradition by the High Council itself 100 years ago no less? Unless, it was no longer outlawed...John Henry's knee-jerk reaction to the letter no longer seemed so cloak-and-dagger.
A sudden creaking of floorboards on the other side of the door made your pulse thrum in your neck. Had your stepfather returned or perhaps you had been too loud and your mother had heard? You would've heard either the front door or the bedroom door open but then your mind was still swooning from your discovery. Gingerly, you placed the book on the side table next to the candle and inched to the door. Your breath caught in your lungs as you listened, on ear pressed to the cool wood. You could hear someone, something on the other side. The sounds of scratching against the wood made you shrink back, one hand coming to rest over your chest, your heart beating erratically. Your other hand reached for the door handle and you collected your wits about you before you pushed down the handle and yanked it open. You were greeted by a mass of fur and dark eyes that shot up to your face, equally as surprised as you were.
“Oh heaven's, Rosie!” you hissed, trying to calm yourself down at the sight of the family dog that must've heard you wandering around and decided to see for herself what you were up to in the dead of night. She tilted her head slightly at the mention of her name, looking past you and into the study that was off limits to her, her nose sniffing at the foreign scent of the room. If it wasn't for your incessant insistence that the St. Bernard was despite her outward appearance, nothing more than an overgrown lap dog,your parents would have kept her outside almost exclusively. With a lazy curiosity, she stepped over the threshold past your legs to inspect the new-found territory. You quickly walked past her to place the book back in its place on the shelf and took the candle holder in your hand, before turning around to see that Rosie had plopped herself down on the carpet in the middle of the room, watching you through her friendly heavy eyes.
“Rosie, you know you are not allowed in here. Well, technically neither and am I so where does that leave us? Come on, let's not leave any trace of us being here,” you berated her half-heartedly, grabbing her by he collar in the hopes that she would grace you with compliance. She looked up at you with an expression of indifference, seeing as your late-night musing must've roused her from her slumber downstairs as she came back up on all fours with a huff to trot out the room in front of you, waiting at the threshold.
“I don't know about you, but I could use some fresh air, what do you say?” you whispered in her direction, her presence calming your frazzled nerves somewhat. With one final glance around the study, you exited, making sure to shut the door as quietly as possible, leaving no trace of your trespassing. Should your mother, wake you could put the blame on Rosie for rousing you to go outside. You'd make sure to bring the candle back up with you, when you came back later. With a nod of your head, you silently bade her to follow you down the stairs and out the front door.
The midnight air was as welcome to your burning skin as it was chilling, serving to ground you and you pulled the shawl tighter around your shoulders with one hand, the candle in the other dimly illuminating the air around you. You watched the lit wick flicker slightly, growing and wavering in intensity, shielded only by the glass from the wind. Ever since this afternoon, your world had begun to tilt on its axis, threatening to plunge you into the unknown, to blow out that candle and yet there was no glass cover to keep you from being engulfed by the darkness that surrounded you. Rosie began to make her rounds around the front of the house and you became lost in your thoughts of what would happen but a week from now. John Henry had tried to shield you, believing it was safe to finally return to his birthplace with you in tow. Now it seemed, all those years of shielding you from his past would come to haunt your present.
Rosie's low growl beside you pulled you out of you reverie and your eyes snapped into the direction she faced, teeth bared and snarling. You struggled to see the source of her sudden defence through the candlelight blinding you of your surroundings and the dense mist that settled over the ground at night. Beyond the stone walls along the gravel road, you could make out a cloaked dark form and for a moment you thought it was John Henry who had come back from his visit to his old warlock friend. Yet the tall figure stopped about 100 yards away in the middle of the road, an ominous feeling creeping up your legs and spine at the sight. Your house was nestled in the countryside, the next estate and their occupants miles away. You stood, frozen to the spot as you waited for the figure to move. Around them, the fog grew thicker, spreading outward like pipe smoke blown against a glass pane, and engulfing both you and Rosie, who began to growl beside you.
Michael watched as you left the house, your nightgown billowing in the frigid night breeze, revealing glimpses of the smooth skin of your legs. When Ambrose Holt had told him of the letter sent to John Henry's stepdaughter, he knew he needed to see for himself what would ultimately be the downfall of that heretic Warlock who had come too close to undoing all of what his family, his father had set out to achieve. To restore the warlock bloodlines to their former glory and to retake what he and many others considered to be their birthright. It was foolish to think that mere humans could achieve what his kind had over millennia, he scoffed at their hubris in the face of such mundaneness. John Henry had forsaken his kind and had tried to smother their power, their supremacy.  He should've remained in his self-imposed exile, Michael mused as his eyes took you in, still unaware of his gaze on you, smiling at the way the breeze plucked small strands of your hair out the loose braid you wore to bed, the way it flushed your cheeks a rosy red. You would make the perfect Goddess to his Horned God.
He could whisk you away right now when you offered yourself so freely, unattended in the middle of the night, your pet of a dog wouldn't stand in the way one bit. Patience, he chastised himself as he walked closer along the road with calculated slow steps, his black cloak swishing around him, his hood drawn down into his face. He had waited this long to take revenge on John Henry, he could wait a week more, even though you made it hard for him when your eyes finally spotted him, raking over him at the sounds of that wretched beast beside you. Underneath the hood, he grinned, satisfied by your reaction. He could smell your fear even from here, so deliciously terrified at the site of him, frozen on the spot. He had you precisely where we wanted you. With a barely cognisant flick of his wrist at his side, the fog grew ticker around him and his invisible fingers reached through it to graze along the backs of your legs and up your spine. Oh, he was going to enjoy this years Harvest more than ever when the prize was you and all you embodied.
You felt the fog move against the base of your neck, distinctly like fingers on your skin. The candle in your hand began to flicker and blew out, leaving your in darkness, only the pale moonlight as your guide. Your eyes grew wide as you were plunged into darkness and before them, the cloaked stranger disappeared into thin air, swallowed by the mist. Rosie's growls stopped and she shook off her guard, back to her usual self. You met her gaze, you heart still pounding furiously before you hastened back to the house, nearly tripping on your way up the stone steps. Rosie trotted after you, nudging you up the stairs. Even though she didn't seem half as bothered as you, she rarely moved this quickly. You pushed open the front door, Rosie slipping inside past your feet. You threw the door closed behind you, your back pressing into the wood as you struggled to catch your breath. For a moment, you stood in darkness and silence before heading up to your room, not caring if your mother would wake at the ruckus you made. You prayed that John Henry would be back by the morning with answers. The candle holder out of his room stood forgotten on the hallway table.
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lynelovespopculture · 3 years
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THE CHILLING ADVENTURES OF ZELDA CHAPTER 19-SALEM FAUSTUS MUST RESCUE HIS DAUGHTER FROM WHERE NO WITCH SHOULD GO.
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Zelda didn’t believe what she just heard. She walked across the room so she could read the text herself. She read it twice and still shook her head. “No, I don’t believe it. Our Cordelia just can’t be on her way to Salem. She just can’t be!”
Jake, who wasn’t exactly in the loop, gasped. “You can’t mean that Cordelia is on her way to Salem, that Salem, THE Salem?!”
“Apparently so,” Ambrose answered him.
Faustus, meanwhile, checked his watch and walked quickly to the front hall where everyone followed him.
“Where are you going, Uncle Faustus,” Ambrose called out.
“It’s 8:30 now and I know that the bus should have left at 5:30. Despite that 3-hour head start, I going to see if I can catch it before they reach Salem.”
“I’m going with you.” Zelda reached for her coat but Faustus stopped her.
“No, dearest.” Faustus shook his head. “I understand completely why you want to come along, but if worse comes to worst and I have to go all the way to Salem, I won’t be able to explain your presence. It’s my class on that trip. The only reason I’m not with them right now is that I told them I was sick.” Zelda looked upset and Faustus sought to comfort her with his next statement. “Our girl is very clever. She might get away and come home on her own so someone needs to be here.”
Zelda was still upset but managed to put on a brave face. “Faustus, your trip will go by faster if you don’t have to stop much. I could pack you some sandwiches if you want.”
“Excellent idea, my love.”
10 minutes later, the car was packed and Faustus was ready to go. Jake and Ambrose hung back to allow Zelda and Faustus a private goodbye.
“Do you have everything?” Zelda asked.
“I think so.”
“Call me as soon as you find Cordelia. I don’t care where you are.” Faustus nodded and Zelda sighed and threw her arms around her husband. “And for Hecate’s sake, Faustus,” Zelda whispered into his neck. “Please, please be careful. I simply wouldn’t know what I would do if anything ever happened to you or Cordelia.”
“Shhh, hush my love, the only thing that going to happen is mine and Cordelia’s safe return. Any other outcome is unacceptable.” He then kissed her goodbye. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Zelda returned “Bring home our girl.”
Faustus nodded, kissed her again before he got into the car, and drove off. Even before Faustus’s car drove out of sight, Zelda could feel Ambrose’s arm around her shoulders.
“Don’t worry, Aunt Z, if anyone up to this task, it’s uncle Faustus.”
“Absolutely,” Jake agreed. “They’ll be back before you know it.”
The 7-hour bus trip flew by. From the very back, Cordelia watched the other students filed off the bus. Cordelia took a deep breath and got up and tried to get off the bus. However, Mrs. Robinson blocked her.
“Not yet, Cordelia. They’re not ready for you.”
“Ready for me?”
Nina didn’t respond but when Cordelia was allowed to leave the bus, Nina was right by her side. Cordelia noticed that the rest of the class had formed a half-circle. Then, a tall, scary man dressed in a black robe walked out of the shadows and stopped right in front of Cordelia. “Is this the child, then?”
Nina nodded. “It is, your honor.”
Your honor? Cordelia looked from 1 adult to the other.
The man in black pointed at Cordelia. “Has she been charged yet?”
“No, your honor. We thought it best to get her down here and then charge her.”
Charge me? The horror finally dawned on Cordelia. This was no field trip, this was a witch trial. HER witch trial!
Meanwhile, the man in black continued. “What is the child’s name?”
“Cordelia Spellman.” Nina answered.
The man in black arched his eyebrow. “Really? SPELLman? And the name Cordelia hasn’t been in fashion for at least an century. It’s like she’s not even trying to hide it.” For the 1st time, the man in black spoke to Cordelia directly. “So, what do you say, girl? Do you deny it? Do you deny that you’re a witch?”
Cordelia stood tall. “Of course, I deny it. Everyone knows that witches don’t really exist.”
“Is that right, girlie? Let see if you say that after you see this!” He grabbed Cordelia roughly by the arm and guided her between 2 old houses.
“Hey!”
The man in black let go of Cordelia after giving her a little shove. Cordelia looked up and was in shock. There they were; all in a row, bound and gagged, all standing on barrels with nooses around their necks. Her entire family, Faustus, Zelda, Jake, LJ, Prudence, Ambrose, Sabrina, Hilda, and even Dr. C.
Without a 2nd thought, Cordelia turned to the man in black. “Okay, you got me. I am a witch. But I’m the only 1. My family didn’t even know, they’re completely innocent. Do whatever you want to me but let them go!”
“Bull!” The man in black declared. “Everyone knows that magic goes through the bloodline so if you're a witch, so is your family.”
“But I’m adopted!” Cordelia stressed. It was the 1st thing she could think of.
“Then why do you look exactly like your mother? You’re lying!” The man in black turned to the men behind the barrels. “Hang them!” He ordered.
“NO!” Cordelia screamed but the man in black held her as the barrels were kicked and the Spellmans were hanged.
“And as for you,” The man in black stared hatefully down at Cordelia. “You’re a witch by your own admission. Your punishment will be to burn at the stake.”
Cordelia didn’t, couldn’t say anything. Her entire family was just murdered for just being born witches. She choked back tears as she was tied to the stake.
“Daughter, would you like to do the honors?” The man in black asked.
“I would love to.”
Suddenly, Cordelia was face to face with Sara, who had a torch in her hand.
“I knew you were trouble since the 1st day I saw you!”
Sara only smiled. “Goodbye, witch. Thanks for the friends.” Sara lit the pyre and Cordelia watched the orange flames crack, flickering, and then it jumped? When the fire jumped for the 2nd time, Cordelia felt her body jump with it.
The next thing Cordelia knew, her eyes opened and she realized she was still on the bus. As the other students were laughing and talking, some about the recent speedbump they just passed, Cordelia sat up. Her hand on her chest, willing her heartbeat to go back to normal. Cordelia looked up at the sound of loud laughter. She grew sad when she realized it was Sara and the triplets. Cordelia frowned; she was so happy and excited to get the text this morning. She practically ran all the way to the schoolyard. When she discovered that they were already on the bus, Cordelia thought nothing of going on the bus. Yet the more she talked, the more Cordelia saw the triplets’ faces grew blanker and blanker. They had no idea what she was talking about! Cordelia’s heart sank yet she knew she wasn’t crazy. She knew that the text came from Erin’s phone. Cordelia suspected that Sara may have stolen the phone and sent the message herself to make Cordelia look foolish. Cordelia turned to get off the bus when Mrs. Robinson stopped her. Mrs. Robinson then showed her the paper and the name on it. Cordelia knew it was faked, (it must be!) There was no one there to save her. Cordelia’s heart fell into her shoes when she realized the bus to Salem was moving and she was still on it. With no other choice, Cordelia sat in the very back, which on a deluxe bus was like a padded bench with seat belts, and tried to control her breathing, just like she was trying to do now.
“Are you okay, Cordelia?” asked a classmate who sat nearby.
“I’m fine, Anne.” Cordelia lied. She was anything but fine! It was actual life and death if someone discovered her secret. As she sat up and looked around the bus, she envied the happy carefree smiles of her peers. Half of Cordelia just wanted the earth to open up and swallow her whole. The other half of her just wanted to stand up and scream. This entire journey was billed as an educational trip but Cordelia couldn’t understand what, if anything, could be ‘educational’ about a town infamous for killing witches, her kind, her people. For Cordelia, this was just as cruel as taking a person of the Jewish faith to tour a WW II death camp. Cordelia sighed as she quickly wiped a tear away. She had already decided that the only way to survive this weekend was to stay down and keep quiet. Hoping to distract herself, Cordelia took out her phone.
“Aw, man!” Cordelia groaned as she read the new message. Cordelia decided earlier not to involve her family. After all, nothing good could come from bringing even more witches to Salem. Despite this, by around 8:30, in a fit of panic, Cordelia texted her father. The instant she hit send, she regretted it. The only thing she could do now was hoping against hope that Faustus didn’t get the message. Now she knew; not only did her father get the message, but he also sent a reply.
Dear Cody,
Stay clam. I’m coming to get you as soon as can. I love you. Dad.
With a defeated sigh, Cordelia let her phone drop into her lap and rested her forehead against the window. She was already stressed as hades and they weren’t even there yet! When Cordelia noticed the sun was beaming down on her, she reached for the golden crescent moon at her neck. “Father sun, mother moon, make time fly. Make this weekend end soon.” She whispered.
Faustus didn’t understand. It was only 2 days ago that Cordelia came home crying at the mere thought of going to Salem, convinced she would die. Now she was on a bus going there? It just didn’t make any sense. Faustus knew how important Cordelia’s friends were to her but still, he just couldn’t imagine his strong-willed daughter being so desperate to win her friends’ favor that she would be talked into taking the trip. Further proof of this was Cordelia’s own text message. The message wasn’t a confessional of a kid who got carried away. It was more like a cry for help. It actually contained the phase S.O.S, which had to be a plea for help. Even if Cordelia had gone to Salem willingly, it shouldn’t have been allowed by her teachers. Even though he had always planned to claim illness and pull out at the last second, as the 7th-grade teacher, Faustus was preparing for this trip all week. Therefore, he knew that every student needed a permission slip signed by a parent or guardian to even go on the trip. Now he knew that Zelda would never sign anything that would put their daughter anywhere near Salem and Hecate knows he didn’t sign a permission slip so Cordelia should have never been able to leave with the others. She should have been kicked off that bus the moment a teacher saw her. Every time Faustus thought of his sweet, youngest child alone in that witch-hating town make Faustus pressed his foot hard on the gas pedal. He was driving on the highway, just about to enter yet another town, when something odd happened. The bottom left side of the car bounced and then dragged. The sudden movement startled Faustus so he took his eyes off the road for just a second to see what was wrong in the back. When he turned his attention back to the road, he saw a cat lying in the middle of the laneway. On instinct, Faustus turned to miss the cat and went up onto a curb. As soon as Faustus collected himself, he got out of the car. He slammed the door, angry at what he saw. The rear left tire had a big nail in it and was still leaking air. The front tire was busted up from hitting the curb.
“Damn!” Faustus swore. So much for catching up to the bus before it got to Salem. Unless…Faustus knelt by the rear tire, raised his hand, and was about to say a spell when-
“Hi there, fellow. Do ya need some help?”
Faustus looked up and saw a kind, elderly man with a tow truck right behind him. Faustus sighed, now he felt stuck. Yes, it would undoubtedly be faster to fix the car by magic, Faustus couldn’t use magic in front of a witness nor could he deny that he was in trouble. So he greeted the man, who was named Gus and it turned out that Gus owned an auto shop in the city. So Gus hooked Faustus’s car up to his truck and they drove to the shop. When they got there, Gus left Faustus in the lobby. 10 minutes later, Gus returned, frowning.
“I’m sorry, friend, but I just found a note from my partner and he had to go tend to an emergency so I’m the only 1 to look after the shop. Plus, I was just in the back, and I swear this never happens, but we seem to out of tires. So, I’m afraid you’re stuck here for a while.”
Faustus sighed. He knew he should have used magic! “Thank you for the ride into town.” He told Gus. Faustus began to walk around the waiting room as Gus went back to work. In the seating area, among the magazines, Faustus found a town map.
“Hey, do you have a bathroom here?”
“Yeah. 1st door on the left.” Gus answered.
“Thank you.” Faustus was pleased to discover that it was a private, single-person bathroom. After locking the door, Faustus unfolded the map and studied it until he found that there was A Walmart supercenter in this town. Astral projecting to a place you never been before was always risky, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He laid the map on the floor and then he laid beside the map. Faustus closed his eyes and slowed his breathing. It worked; for when Faustus opened his eyes again, he was right in front of the store. After thanking Hecate, Faustus entered the store. It was big and crowded so Faustus knew he had to hurry. Faustus made quick work of finding the auto department and selecting the correct tires. The trouble, as Faustus soon learned, was upfront. There was only 1 check-out station open and a very long lineup. Faustus stood in line, carrying a tire in each hand when he saw the 1st of those hateful birds in the window.
Oh no! Come on, come on, come on! Faustus silently willed the line to get a move on already.
Soon after, came another bird and another. By the time there were 4, Faustus realized his nose was bleeding. When 6 birds were all in a row, Faustus’s entire body was shaking and his head felt ready to explode. He could hold on no more. Sighing, Faustus dropped the tires and closed his eyes, only to return to his body on the bathroom floor. Faustus sat up and hit the titles with his palms. “Damn it!” He had to find another way to fix his car and get to his daughter and soon!
After all the stories about how all the mortals tortured and killed them, Cordelia wondered if any of the Salem witches ever simply died from boredom. If so, Cordelia may have found their descendent. It was late afternoon and the class was listening to a lecture in an old town hall. The only thing that Cordelia found remotely interesting about this guy was he has been talking for over 2 hours and had still to get a single fact right. If this so ‘witch expect’ attended the academy, Cordelia felt certain that he would easily fail 1st-year witch history. Cordelia sighed and looked out the window, only to see a graveyard, because, of course, there was a graveyard right there! Maybe it was because she was a real witch, but ever since she had arrived in Salem, Cordelia has been experienced odd things. Like wherever she went, Cordelia heard noises, like moaning and weeping, possibly from the murdered witches. Even though the Salem roads were paved, Cordelia could swear she heard splashing, as if she was walking on blood. Cordelia shook her head and turned the other way. Cordelia managed to lock eyes with Erin, and they smiled at each other. The bus had arrived in Salem at 12:30. So the first thing the class did was have lunch at a restaurant called The Witch’s Brew. (Salem got absolutely zero points for subtly.) Cordelia had a bit of luck when she was seated next to Erin at lunch. She was finally got to explain about the text, how the girls wanted to talk to her before leaving for Salem and how it came from Erin’s phone. Erin then explained that she lost her phone 3 days ago. In fact, the last thing Erin did before she left the house this morning was to ask her mom to keep looking for it. Therefore, Erin couldn’t have written that text. Still, the 2 girls got to talking during the meal and at least, for now, there was peace between Cordelia and 1 of her friends. The lecture was finally over and the class started to file out. Cordelia sneaked away to the bathroom. She did this several times today, whenever she felt the need to regroup.
You’re doing great, girl. Cordelia thought to herself. All you have to do now is get through supper, another walking tour, and then it’s off to the motel for the night. Then just 3 more days, Cordelia sighed.
When Cordelia returned to the front, she noticed that everyone from before had gone and only 2 maids were talking to each other.
“I don’t know, Dru. We come in here every day and we listen to that blockhead, every single day, telling lie after lie. But it seems especially wrong to let him tell all this to schoolchildren. It just seems so irresponsible to me.”
Drusilla, the other maid, sighed. “Shelley, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times. It doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, he’s just another mortal spinning fairy tales for mortal children. It has nothing to with us.”
“Us?” Cordelia jumped into the conversation without thinking. “You’re not mortals either? Are you witches?”
The 2 maids were visually shocked. “Mortal? Who said mortal?” Drusilla asked. “I said more tell, yeah, more tell. That darn lecturer is always leaving without telling us.”
While Drusilla was trying, very unsuccessfully, to talk herself out of trouble, Shelley knocked over the bucket of water she was mopping with. “Oh, for Hades’s sake!”
Cordelia smiled. “For Hade’s sake? That sounds like a witch phase to me. Don’t worry, I’m a witch too.”
“Oh, great. Another little girl who thinks she’s a real witch.” Although Drusilla muttered this to herself, Cordelia still overheard her.
The Spellman witch raised her hand and the spilled water was back in the bucket. “Now do you believe me?” Cordelia smiled.
“You are a witch.” Shelley said with awe and then pointed to the door. “What about the class you came in with? Are they witches?”
“No.” Cordelia shook her head. “They’re all mortals, I’m the only one.”
Drusilla raised an eyebrow. “You’re here all alone? What are you? 11?”
“12, actually,” Cordelia answered. “Yes, I’m alone, but it’s a long and confusing story and I don’t know how to explain it. What about you 2? Do you live in Salem as well as working here?”
“Dru lives in town, but you wouldn’t find me here after dark.”
Drusilla rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be such a baby, Shelley. I figured I’m safer here than anywhere else, kind of how like a farmer will never search for a fox in a henhouse.”
Cord smiled, she wasn’t sure whether that statement was madness or brilliant.
“Don’t worry, kid.” Drusilla continued. “Your day trip must be almost over. You’ll be home before you know it.”
“Oh, it’s not a day trip. The class will be here until Monday.”
“You’re staying overnight? Here? At a motel? But what about the rebels?” Shelley seemed frightened.
“The rebels?” Cordelia asked. “Who or what are the rebels?”
“They’re a secret group of mortals who believe that witches never left Salem. It’s said that to this day, they go around at night, leaving fresh blood on the motel door of witches.”
“Don’t scare her with that old wives’ tales! I’ve lived here for almost ten years and that never happened to me.”
“That’s because you don’t use motels.”
Drusilla dismissed Shelley with a shake of her head and took something out of her pocket. “Pay no mind to Shelley, but I would feel better if you took this good luck charm.”
“I just can’t take it. What if I pay for it?” Cordelia suggested. “$5 bucks?”
They agreed and as they exchanged items, Drusilla caught sight of Cordelia’s wrist. “Oh my gosh! Have you always had that?”
“What? My birthmark? Yes, I’ve always it.”
Drusilla rubbed it a bit with her thumb. “It’s not coming off. If this is what I think it is, well, honey, you are not a witch, you are THE witch.”
“What does that mean?”
Before anyone could speak further, Mrs. Applegate, another teacher from Greendale middle school, appeared at the door. “Here you are, Cordelia. Come along, it’s time for dinner and it’s starting to rain.”
It was still raining when Faustus watched the sunset from 1 of the auto shop’s windows then he sighed and turned away. Faustus simply couldn’t believe he had wasted most of the day here. This partnership with the van had yet to show up and Gus was busy with a steady stream of customers. Despite being in the same place most of the day, Faustus tried desperately to make contact with his daughter with a series of calls, texts, and video messages, all to no avail. It wasn’t surprising. After all, the class must have arrived in Salem hours ago and the 1st rule of any field trip was to turn off any and all cell phones. As for Zelda, Faustus sighed again. Faustus was too ashamed to call Zelda. Yes, he promised to call his wife as soon as he found Cordelia, but not only had he yet to find their daughter, he had no new news of her whatsoever. Maybe because it was later, Faustus thought he should try to reach Cordelia again. He took a seat in the waiting room and once again, pulled out his phone.
“Hey, I know that girl,” said the guy next to and tapped where Cordelia was on the family picture that was Faustus’s screen.
Faustus turned to the stranger. “You do?”
“Sure. I’m a traveling salesman and today I had a business lunch in Salem. Anyway, I was just leaving the restaurant when I saw a bus with a pile of kids coming off it. I remember that girl because she was the last 1 off the bus and she didn’t seem at all happy to be there.”
Faustus nodded as he listening to the other man. Knowing that his daughter was in fact in Salem and had been since lunch lit a fire under Faustus. He stood up and walked with purpose.
“What are you doing?” asked the salesman.
“What I should have done hours ago,” Faustus murmured to himself. He borrowed a phone book from behind the front desk, looked up the listing for a local cab company, and called. He then took a taxi to Walmart and picked out the 2 correct tires in person. 20 minutes after he returned to the auto shop, a man came to see him.
“Mr. Spellman, your new tires are on and ready to go.”
“Great!”
“But I’d like to have a look at your muffler.”
“My muffler?” Aside from the tires, Faustus knew that his car was fine. This guy was just trying to play him for a sucker and Faustus simply didn’t have time for this.
Still, he just said, “Sure, do whatever you have to.”
The man went back into the garage. Faustus found a discreet place to hide, where he could see his car. He waited until someone touched his car before he whispered a spell in Latin. Then the car roared to life, seemly by itself.
Faustus then ran up to the man. “Wow, you seem to have the golden touch. My car is purring like a kitten now. I gave Gus my address so you can bill me. Thank you.” Faustus got into his car and drove off while the man was still trying to figure out what just happened.
Before long, Faustus was back on the highway. One advantage of driving at night was there was barely any traffic. However, as the hours passed and Faustus got closer to Salem, the rain came down harder and harder. So hard that the paved road, that Faustus could barely see, seemed like silver. Still, Faustus kept on driving because of heaven or high water, he was determined to find his daughter…tonight! The clock on the dash read 10:37 when he finally passed the Welcome to Salem sign. Now, all he had to do was find the motel with a bus in front of it. He found it on the 3rd block he went down. Faustus parked his car and ran out of the rain and out the roof of the motel. He ran into some of his students that were lingering outside. They seemed surprised to see him but unfortunately, none of them knew where Cordelia was. Faustus was making his way to the motel’s office. He rounded the corner and ran into Nina, who smiled at him.
“Fausty! You made it! I knew you would.”
“Mrs. Robinson, please tell me, where is my daughter?”
“Oh, she’s rooming with a couple of other girls.” Nina said casually but then she leaned in and whispered “As for me, I’m in room 13, alone and ready whenever you are.”
As Nina walked away, Faustus rolled his eyes and beyond him, he heard a door open, girlish laughter, then a firm closing of the door, and finally a splash, as if falling in a puddle. Faustus turned and indeed, it was a mud puddle. It took a second for the girl to moan and turn over.
“Cordelia?”
Her eyes widened. “Dad?” Cordelia got up and went up to her father. With a quivering lip, Cordelia let go of the tears that she had kept inside all day as she threw her arm around Faustus’s waist.
“I’m sorry, Dad” She nodded. “I really am. I got scared and panicked. I regretted that text message the moment I sent it. I never meant for you or any of the family to come here.”
Faustus gently put his hand under Cordelia’s chin and forced his daughter to look up at him. “Never mind that text.” Faustus gently said. “What are you doing here?”
Cordelia shook her head, furiously. “I don’t know, I really don’t! I meant it when I told Jake I would be back in 10 minutes. I only got on the bus because the triplets were already on it when I reached the schoolyard. It was a total bust because Erin didn’t even send me the message and they just kicked me out because, for the 1st time in my life, I lied to the triplets about believing in witches.”
“Cordy, why didn’t you get off the bus?”
“I tried, but Mrs. Robinson wouldn’t let me. I begged and begged. I even considered teleporting myself home but there were too many witnesses. Then she showed me my permission slip.”
Faustus was confused. “What do you mean? Permission slips are useless until they’re signed.”
“But it was signed, Dad,” Cordelia told him. “It had your signature.”
Mine? Faustus thought, dumbstruck. Then, Faustus thought about how everyone was rightly surprised to see him, except for Nina. Faustus took off his coat and wrapped it around Cordelia. “You’re wet, muddy and you must be cold. Go and wait for me in the office. I’ll be right there, I promise.”
As soon as Cordelia was out of sight, Faustus sighed, turned, and muttered to himself, “Nina Robinson, for your own sake, I better be wrong about this!”
Faustus walked up and knocked on the door of room 13.
“Come in.”
As soon as he opened the door, Faustus noticed that there were candles everywhere in the darkened room, even on the 2nd bed. On the 1st bed, lay Nina, on her stomach, posed as if she was in a playboy magazine. All she wore was a black leather corset, a matching thong, and heels. “I knew you would come. All I had to do is get you away from the school and your wife.”
Furious, Faustus entered the room and slammed the switch that turned on the big light.
“Where are they?” He demanded.
“Where is what?” Asked Nina.
“The permission slips. You have them with you I know it!” Faustus returned, quite fiercely.
Nina said nothing so Faustus looked around and saw a teacher’s leather briefcase leaning against the TV.
“Ah!” Faustus went to the case and searched through it. 1 brief look in the mirror told Faustus that Nina had crawled to the end of the bed and was now was dangerously close to him. “Madam, I advise you to keep your hands to yourself.”
Oh?” said Nina in a flirty manner. “And why is that?”
“Because anything of yours that touches me, you are not getting back!”
Nina frowned. “You’re in a mood.”
Faustus turned to face her. “Yes, I am. Especially since I just found these.” There was a piece of paper in each hand. “Here is a permission slip for Cordelia Spellman and it does indeed bear my signature but I don’t remember signing this but this might explain it.” Faustus raised his other hand. “This is a lined paper, with nothing but my name written on it, over and over again, front and back. Yet the strange thing is at the top of the front paper looks like your handwriting, but the bottom of the back page looks like my handwriting. You forged my name on this permission slip, didn’t you?”
Nina wore her smile proudly. “It worked, didn’t it? You’re here.”
“I came here to bring Cordelia home!” Faustus fumed. “It has nothing whatsoever to do with you! And where do you get your nerve? Kidnapping my daughter and bringing her here, of all places!”
“Kidnapping? Oh, don’t be so overdramatic. It’s only a field trip.”
“To a town infamous for its injustice and murder! It wasn’t your place. It’s up to me and Zelda to decide what our daughter is exposed to!”
“Did you really have to bring your wife up again?” Nina asked, looking bored. “If you ask me, I think that Zelda is too old for you.”
“Not that’s any of your business, but Zelda and I are the same age and you want to know what I think? I think you’re not worthy enough to speak Zelda’s name!”
“Oh, come on, next you’ll tell me that you’re not attracted to me.”
“I’m not and another thing- “Faustus’s voice was drowned out by the ringing of a phone. Faustus automatically looked to the bedside table, where Nina’s phone lay charging. However, Faustus soon realized that the ringing was closer to him. In fact, the phone was in the briefcase. Nina leaped off the bed, trying to get the phone first but because he was closer, Faustus got it.
The pink, sparkly girlish phone looked oddly familiar. “Hello?” Faustus answered. “Mrs. Warner?” Faustus listened for a moment. “Oh, I see. May I ask how long has Erin been looking for this phone? Oh, I see. Yes, I’ll bring it by soon.” He ended the call and then turned to Nina. “Oh, this is low, even for you.”
Nina gave an innocent shrug. “What?”
“You know perfectly well ‘what’” Faustus snapped. “This cell phone belongs to Erin Warner. According to her mother, Erin had been looking everywhere for this for the past 3 days. This makes it impossible for Erin to send that message to Cordelia about wanting to make up at 5 this morning. You did it, didn’t you? You knew the girls were fighting and you knew that Cordelia and I were not coming on this trip. You took advantage of my daughter’s desire to make up with her friends, and once you got her on that damn bus, you kept her there, knowing full well I would come to collect my daughter!”
“But Faustus, I did it for us.”
“There is no us, you lunatic!” Faustus spat. “And I’m getting so tired of rejecting you.”
Nina smiled. “Then don’t.” She tried to put her around Faustus’s neck but he fought her off.
“Enough!” Faustus growled. “I have had it with you! I’ve tried to reason with you, to avoid you, and to explain to you how important my family is to me. All that’s left is the ugly truth so here it is. I will NEVER sleep with you! You could be the last woman, scratch that, the last person on earth, and I would still never sleep with you. In fact, you sickened me because you remind me of who I used to be and who I swore I would never become again. The fact that you would steal a child’s phone makes you a disgrace to the entire teaching profession!” Faustus then ripped up the permission slip and let the pieces fall to the floor. “Consider this me taking back custody of my daughter.” Faustus turned and left without another word, slamming the door behind him. Faustus didn’t want Cordelia to see him angry so he took a moment on the motel’s tiny porch. That’s where he first saw the thunder and lighting in addition to the rain.
The Spellman house had been filling with family all day. As word got around about Faustus, Cordelia, and Salem, people came running. Prudence was first. She was worried when Zelda, who was never late, missed the morning assembly at the academy. Prudence was even more worried when she learned when Zelda wouldn’t be leaving the house today. Hilda learned everything when she called the mortuary. By the time late afternoon rolled around, all the family knew and Ambrose, Jake, Prudence, Hilda, Sabrina, and LJ were all at the house. After dinner, they were joined by Dr. C and the other 2 weird sisters. At first, the plan was simple, just keep Zelda busy and distracted until Faustus called then everything would calm down. But the later it got, the more worried everyone got. By 11, they had run out of topics of conversation and games to play. They all felt helpless as they just sat in the drawing-room and Zelda walked0 up and down the hallway for the million time. Zelda couldn’t sit down; the only reason she ate at all was due to Hilda’s pleading. Zelda refused to go 10 feet without a phone so she stayed on the main floor all day. Zelda had no idea what to do with her hands since her last cigarette was long gone. Zelda sighed when she checked her watch. It was getting so late. If there was still no word from either Faustus or Cordelia by dawn, Zelda had already decided to go to Salem herself but she hadn’t told the others because she didn’t want anyone to talk her out of it. Zelda’s head whipped around as the phone began to ring. She ran to the phone and picked it up.
“Hello, hello?” Zelda tensed as the family gathered around her.
“Zelda? Dearest?”
Zelda’s grip tightened on the phone and closed her eyes and cherishing her husband’s voice. “Faustus! Finally, how are you? Where are you? Have you found Cordelia yet?”
“I’m fine, my dearest,” Faustus assured Zelda. “It’s been an insanely long day but I’m finally in Salem and as for Cordelia” The line went silent for a second and then… “Hi, Mom!”
Zelda bit her lip to keep her tears of joy and relief in check. “Oh, Cordelia, my sweet, precious girl. How are you? Did anyone hurt you?”
“No. I’m fine, Mom. I’ve been with the class all day and no one suspected me at all, I promise. And I definitely feel safer now that Dad’s here with me. Mom, is LJ there?”
“Yes, she’s right here.” Zelda passed the phone to her stepdaughter.
“Hello? Cordy? What’s wrong?”
“LJ, I’m so sorry.”
LJ was confused. “Why are you apologizing to me?”
“Because tonight was the night you were supposed to bring your boyfriend to dinner to meet the family.”
LJ was touched. “The fact that you remember that after all, you had to deal with today proves that you are the sweetest little sister in the whole wide world. Peter can wait. What’s important now is to get you and Dad home safe and sound.”
The sisters chatted for a few minutes and then LJ gave the phone back to Zelda and after a few moments, Cordelia passed the phone back to Faustus.
“So, now that you’re located Cordelia, are you in your home now?” Zelda asked.
“Oh, not exactly dearest. I know that it was my idea to just grab Cordelia and then drive all through the night back to Greendale, but there’s a problem here. You see, there’s a raging storm here and it’s not safe to be on the road. I barely made it here.”
“Can’t you teleport?” Zelda suggested. “Surely you must know the way home.”
“I do, but people saw Cordy and I come in this motel room so we just can’t up and disappear.”
Zelda frowned. “I don’t like the idea of you and Cordelia spending the whole night in Salem.”
“Neither do I,” Faustus agreed, “but it could be a lot worse. You see, Mrs. Applegate was kind enough to give up her room so she will have to share with Mrs. Robinson.” Was it Zelda’s imagination or was there laughter in her husband’s voice? “Anyway,” Faustus continued, “this is a single room so Cordy and I will have to share the bed tonight. The storm is sure to be over by morning and then Cordy and I will be on our way. I can assure you, dearest, I won’t be in this town a moment more than I need to.”
Zelda sighed; she still didn’t like it, but she understood. “Please be careful, Faustus, and give Cordy a goodnight kiss for me. I love you.”
“We’ll be home before you know it. I love you too.”
Although she had taken her wet clothes off when she first got to the room, Cordelia was still cold after the phone call home, so she treated herself to a hot bath. Since she had no PJs, she put the white plush motel robe back on and double knotted it so she could wear it as a nightdress. Faustus then took a quick shower to wash off his road trip. When he stepped back into the main room, he found Cordelia standing before the window, the rain and the moon casting her face in a ghastly glow.
“You know; you were born on a night very much like this.”
Cordelia looked up at him. “Don’t you hear them, Dad?”
“Hear what?”
Cordelia frowned. “The moans pleads and cries of our people. Thousands and thousands of them, crying out in pain and for justice. I’ve been hearing them all day, ever since I got off the bus.”
Faustus heard nothing and thought it must be a divine child thing. “Come on honey, we have a long drive home tomorrow. We better get some sleep.”
As they made themselves comfortable in bed, Faustus noticed something he hadn’t before. “Cordy, why are shivering? Didn’t that bath warm you up?”
“Oh, am I shivering?” His daughter asked. “I’ve been doing it all day. I guess I don’t even notice it anymore.”
Faustus could help smiling to himself. As a 12-year-old witch who had in the company of mortals, doing a tour of Salem all day, Cordelia had every right to be afraid but she would never admit it. She was so strong, so proud, so like her mother. “You’re very brave.”
Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. If I was so brave, I would have never caved and texted you that message.”
“Oh, will you stop! I’m glad you sent that message. I’m glad that I was able to track you down. Besides, the text doesn’t take away from the fact that you just spent an entire day learning about 1 of the darkest chapter in our people’s history.”
“Yep, that’s me. Cordelia the brave…and the friendless.” She muttered.
Faustus felt his face grow hot. This whole thing started because Cordelia wanted to make right with her friends. She must have been heartbroken to learn that her friends didn’t text her this morning. Damn you, Nina! Faustus thought and then said out loud, “Don’t worry Cordy. You’ll make up with the Warners soon, I know it.”
Faustus turned off the lamp and despite being quiet, neither Cordelia nor Faustus slept all night. Maybe they were overtired or overstressed by being 2 witches in Salem. It was dawn when exhaustion finally took Cordelia and she rolled over into her father’s arms. Faustus curled his long-limbed body around her protectively before kissing her forehead. “Don’t worry baby, Daddy’s got you.” He whispered before sleep claimed him too.
1 hour later, a scream woke them up. They jumped out of bed and open the door to see the class, teachers and all of the hotel staff were in front of them. Faustus looked at the door. “Is that paint? Or blood?”
“The rebels” Cordelia whispered, suddenly remembering what the maids told her. She looked around and froze. Her room wasn’t the only marked. There was also blood on the door of the room that the triplets shared with Sara.
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cookiem1996 · 3 years
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The Scottish Stranger Chp2
AN: Ahoy there! I know it has been awhile since chapter one, but I have been very busy with work and life. Now that I am sick, unfortunately, I have had enough time to update and continue this story based off of Zelda’s recounts of her Academy days featuring a crossover of Supernatural’s Rowena Macelod. I hope you guys enjoy this second chapter and I am hoping to continue more on this installment and perhaps a reunion between a present Zelda and Rowena. This chapter does contain some actual Gaelic mythology. I thought it would please you all witches at heart. Enjoy.
The Scottish Stranger Chp 2
  Another great storm thundered in Greendale.
This time it is in the present. The rain still intrigues Zelda. She finds herself curled up by the window as she marks last week’s exams in the comfort of her home.
Sure, she usually spent a lot more time at the Academy of the Unseen Arts, but she was done hearing her sister’s pleas to pry her out of the environment lest, ‘you start becoming a hermit in that office’.  
Honestly, it relieved Zelda to be home; she found it to be a comfort. Her family home never always used to be this way, with its thunderous memories of decay and turmoil. Now, the only memories that went through her mind were times of happiness, times of family...times where she would hear Sabrina ramble on about menial means of her adolescence.
Oh how she missed her niece. A weak smile graced her aged features as she thought about the day when Sabrina got her green thumb.
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“Auntie! Auntie! Look what Aunt Hilda and I planted!”
Zelda neatly folded her newspaper and set it down. “Come now, let’s see it.”
A young Sabrina tugged her Aunt Zelda with no care to the garden where Hilda knelt feeding a plant with some plant food.
“My lilacs will grow right there, Auntie! You’ll see!”, Sabrina beams.
Zelda glanced down at her little niece with the softest grin. She knelt down and brought her into a hug.
Sabrina crinkles her nose, but hugs her back. “What’s this for?”
Zelda shuts her eyes to fight back a tear. “Don’t you ever change, Sabrina.”
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Zelda frowns then seeing a watermark over Michael Hanover’s test. Her fingers wander up to her cheekbone feeling wetness. With a soft sigh she grabs a tissue and dabs gently under her eyes.  
“When will I be done with these accursed tears?”, she asks herself in defeat.
She was ready to take another sip from her cup, but made a face. “Hilda! This is empty!”  
There was silence aside from the storm. She furrowed her brows not hearing any footsteps. It took her a moment to realize she was truly alone now. Hilda wasn’t here, of course. She was home with her new husband. Ambrose went away to ‘find himself’. All Zelda had was Vinegar Tom and Salem.  
It surprised the witch that Salem continued on living even with his charge, Sabrina, being no longer of this world.
Zelda sighs and sets aside all of the graded papers. She gets up wandering to the kitchen. She grabbed the kettle to make more tea. She felt so lifeless, so out of place. She knew she had to get out of this funk soon-for her coven.
Zelda nearly jumps out of her skin feeling a slight brush against her legs. She glances down to see Salem curled up around her leg. Although she didn’t like the feline from the start, it seemed the cat warmed up to her and she warmed up to him.  
“I know, Salem. I miss her too.”, She speaks softly.  
Zelda gives herself an assured nod before proceeding to brew some tea. She turned on the TV for once to see more news. She read this morning’s paper at least three times bored out of her mind.
There was a news report about the President having been attacked and that the assailants were in custody. She raises a brow noticing they didn’t name the criminals, but were focused on the President’s accounts.  
“Breaking News: seems the brothers in custody have escaped. Be on the lookout for Sam and Dean Winchester.”, an anchorman reported.
Zelda tilts her head. Those names sounded familiar-for sure. Vinegar Tom barks lightly and nudges at his food bowl catching his charge’s attention.  
“Okay, okay, sir.”, Zelda coos toward her familiar. “Help yourself.”
Zelda fills his bowl and sets it in front of him before doing the same for Salem. She rolls her eyes turning off the TV when the stories went on about what hairstyles were in for the season. Nothing intrigued her much except for political world affairs and stories with meaning.
Zelda hears the whistle of the kettle and scuffles over to it to turn off the burner.  She moves the kettle away from the still heated kettle and stares off.  
That whistle...
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Academy of the Unseen Arts-Past
  Zelda sighed in defeat hearing the lunch bell go off. She became so engrossed on today’s lesson: Demons and the Archeron. Demonology really piqued the young red-head's interest. She could spend all day reading spellwork and the ways of conjuring one of Satan’s helpers.
  She gathered her books and bag as she watched everyone rush out of the classroom, clamoring about today’s newest gossip; it was all anyone could talk about now-the new girl.  A roll of Zelda’s eyes didn’t go unnoticed by her professor.  
Professor Ghastly arched an old withered brow as he cleared his desk. “Ms. Spellman, is everything alright?”, he asked.
  Zelda’s blue eyes looked up toward her professor. She sighs before she answers, “Quite. I am just upset the lesson is over for today.”
Professor Ghastly scoffed lightly and smiled lightly. “You really are one who truly appreciates my lessons. Don’t worry, we’ll touch more tomorrow. Who knows, one day you’ll be the best spell-caster the Coven has ever seen.”  
Zelda offered a faint grin and gave a curt nod. “Thank you, Professor. I shall see you tomorrow.”
With that, Zelda left the classroom beaming in pride. She knew she already was the best spell-caster. Faustus leaned against the wall ahead in the hall watching her like a hawk. He approached her with a sly grin.  
“Done being the teacher’s pet?”, he sneered teasing her.
Zelda rolls her eyes and nudges him as she walks side by side with him. “Done drooling over every witch you encounter? I swear I should conjure up a spell to castrate you.”, she teases back.
This is what her and Faustus Blackwood did every day; they would taunt each other whilst casting a lustful stare. Zelda knew she couldn’t want him. Faustus would be fawning over the next new thing like nothing occurred between them. The only girl he ‘stuck with’ the most was Constance. Zelda didn’t understand why, the girl was petty. Constance was a jealous cow because she knew even though Faustus would stray, he would also go back to flirting his way with Zelda as well. Zelda figured Faustus didn’t know what he wanted. Constance’s family had been in good noble standing, whereas with the Spellman’s, they were known for their wit and they were quite the impeccable conjurers. She assumed he had the future in mind-the right Blackwood bride.
“My, my, Ms. Spellman. How naughty of you.”, Faustus feigned offense. “You may have some leverage yet.”
Zelda shrugs with a skip to her step. “I’d say so.”
Faustus nodded in greeting to his inner circle. The best of the best warlocks the Academy had to offer. “Perhaps I should meet you after your rehearsal this afternoon. What do you say, Spellman?
Zelda pursed her lips playfully and tilted her head. “Depends...”
Faustus raises a dark brow. “On?”
Zelda stops and leans to whisper in his ear. “If you bring the thing I mentioned.”
Faustus’s smirk grew. “Certainly.” He winked and then went off with his friends.
Zelda watched him go and sighed deeply. Quite the bad idea for sure. Unlike Faustus, she hadn’t been thinking of the future. Whatever she wanted to do, it would be for the moment-living in the now.  
Before heading to the cafeteria, Zelda went on to switch out her books for her next class. She didn’t get herself a locker, thinking it was the worst idea to cram one’s books in such a cramped space. She walked down the hall to her dorms, which to her convenience, was right nearby.  
She paused then, furrowing her light brows hearing this soft whistle. The whistle echoed lightly down the hall. It sounded so...enchanting, the melody she couldn’t place. This sound made her venture forward, passing the large wooden door to her dorm.  
There, nestled by the window over-looking the outside of the Gehenna Station sat none other than that bloody Scot. A scowl rose on Zelda’s perfect upper lip having found the source of the light and strangely enchanting whistle.  
Rowena’s features remained calm however, her pale fingers drumming against the window pane. She took notice of the presence behind her through the reflection of the window and started to sing that tune she whistled earlier.  
Zelda did not recognize what seemed to be an old folk song, but she knew the girl sung in Gaelic. Zelda knew her languages very well. She knew how to pick up an old dialect when she heard one.
 “Ya know what this song is about?”, Rowena broke the silence.
Zelda tilts her head in wonder. Although she recognized the language, she hadn’t been translating it in her mind word for word-instead having been enchanted by that voice of hers. This frustrating newcomer sang like the lark, her beauty matching her voice.  
Zelda snaps out of it and huffs, placing a free hand on her hip. “I am sure you will enlighten me.”
Zelda could just feel that growing smirk on the other girl’s lips. She saw the way her shoulders rose up, mischief teeming in her body language. This girl...she was so animating.  
“It’s about a man’s burning lust for a bonnie. How his pecker hurt because she is this image of perfection.”
Zelda’s face turned a bright red. Who would make such a disgusting...
Rowena laughs, throwing her head back in amusement. She turned to take a look at Zelda’s growing irritation. “Had ya going there, didn’t I?”
Zelda’s resting hand on her hip squeezed, eyebrows furrowed as she glared right at the Scot.  
“Hilarious. Were you the jester in your podunk village?”, Zelda sneers.
Rowena’s red brows flew up, but the wry smile never went away. “Is that all ya can come up with?”, she retorts. “At least ya find me humorous.”
Zelda’s jaw set as she scrutinized the smaller girl. “You didn’t want me to forget that you were a poor simple girl the other night. You want people to pity you, don’t you? It’s pathetic.”
Rowena scoffed and snickered shaking her head. Satan, in Hell, she was irritating.  
“Bold of ya to say, spoiled brat. It’s so easy to look down on those beneath ya, eh? Ya think I want pity? Why do ya even think I am here?”
Zelda shifted in place clearly not wanting to deal with her right now, toes turned back toward the door to her dorm.  
“You’ve got nowhere to go...”, she began stepping closer so she towered over the seated girl. “You need a roof over your head, food in your belly, someplace to mooch off of. You may be a young witch, but you are standing in a great Academy for witches who want to learn, want to let the Dark Lord into one’s life. You don’t just come here to use this as your lounging spot.”, Zelda spat as she nudged toward Rowena’s seat.
Rowena narrows her green cat-shaped eyes. She slowly gets up, her nose nearly grazing Zelda’s chin. It miffed her that Zelda would take advantage of her height to be intimidating. Rowena sniffed as her eyes wandered up to gaze into those stormy blue eyes. She could smell that wonderful scent: fresh strawberries, lilies in the field. A part of Rowena wanted to be enveloped in that scent forever, wanted to test those beautiful red lips before her. Freak the girl out? No way. No one ever talked about the temptations of wanting the same sex. Rowena slowly discovered that the moment she saw the curious gaze of Zelda Spellman.
She wasn’t alone. Oh no, Zelda thought about gripping her red locks and giving into her temptation as well. The Dark Lord did say everyone had their own free will to take as they wanted, to sup and lap at every desire. No, she couldn’t desire the stranger. How dare she speak to her the way she did and still appeared as pretty as she did?
Zelda lifted her chin lightly appearing still to be mightier than the smaller girl. She couldn’t let herself give into those emerald eyes, those pouted pink lips, those amazing spackles of freckles on her porcelain skin. Her skin must have been soft, but her hands looked calloused and worn from what seemed to have been manual labor.  
This temptation she would not submit to.  
“Ya couldn’t be more wrong. In fact, I start classes tomorrow. I have just been trying to catch up on a few studies. You’ll be seeing me around a bit longer. I hope yer ready for that.”, Rowena spoke lowly and then gave her a smile like a crocodile. “I hope yer ready to see what I’m made of.”
Zelda scoffs trying to show her she didn’t fear her-not in the slightest. “Is that a threat?”, she asks quietly, eyes briefly glancing at those pink lips, mouth nearly watering to try them.  
Rowena bit that cute lower lip as those deep green eyes seemed to glint brighter in mirth. “I assure ya it’s no threat. It’s a promise.”  
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The next day, Zelda entered the earliest to her favorite class of the day: Spellwork and Conjuration. She polished off her workspace and organized her ink jar and quill to the right corner of her desk. She smiled as she pulled out a fresh piece of parchment, taking in the nice smell of new parchment paper. She loved to learn, loved to show off how much she absorbed being such an avid learner.  
Zelda tried not to think about what Rowena said yesterday. So far, she didn’t have a class with her-how would she prove her ‘point’?
The rest of the class started to file in. They settled in their seats ready to learn. Zelda folded her hands in front of herself, sitting upright, but ready to pick up that quill when she needed to. All seemed to go well, until...she walked in.
Zelda’s blue eyes narrowed following the messy-haired petite witch as she made her way to the teacher’s desk. She bowed her head politely, which made Zelda roll her eyes. Of course she would do that. Being all proper-like, like she wasn’t raised in a barn.
“Oh look, better not catch the hay fever from Farm Girl.” Zelda sneered toward her friends as Rowena walked past her desk to find her spot.
The other girls snorted and eyed the smaller girl down, thinking they found their new harrowing target. Rowena ignored them, chin lifted and unamused as she sat down primly. She sets her textbook down and brings out a quill and ink jar. Unlike the rest, her quill was weathered and old, and her jar barely had a drop left.  
“Okay, settle down, witches and warlocks. Now, if we can begin our lesson. Ahh...Rowena, I see you need a refill...”, Professor Ghastly began. He lifted a finger and her jar refilled.  
Rowena gaped in surprise and smiled. “Thank you, Professor, sir.”, she replied sounding so refined as she sat upright ready to learn.  
Zelda could not help but roll her eyes at this. There was no way her favorite teacher could take this peasant seriously. She didn’t even have her dress all the way buttoned at the front, the collar not propped up around her neck, rather it flopped down. Her messy curls were all astray and her fingers were already stained with ink from perhaps having used it in earlier classes. Yet, the way her green eyes lit up, eager to learn, eager to take in this lesson-the same enthusiasm Zelda had about learning made her wonder: would she take this class seriously? There had been no doubt that Rowena acted theatrically about everything, acting horribly to get her way-oh no. All that little teenaged girl had to do was bat those gorgeous eyes and she’d get her way. At least Zelda had her peers on her side, for now at least.
"Now for today’s lesson, we’re getting right back into trapping a demon into an archeron. You see, many warlocks of our time have created this contraption in efforts to seal away the most abhorrent or pesky demons that victimize a witch or warlock’s home. You see, the home of a spellcaster is the most vulnerable for what reason...Mr. Redburn.”, Professor Ghastly begins his lesson and calls on Bradley.
 Bradley Redburn snaps out of his daze as some of the students turn to face him. Professor Ghastly loved to call on those who weren’t paying attention. If one had been asleep, he would place a simple ,harmless charm to jolt them awake. It amused him greatly as it had the students.  
“Uhh...”, Bradley contemplates as he plays with his fingernails. He obviously had no idea what the answer was. It annoyed Zelda to bits that no one could be as passionate about these lessons as her.  
“uhh...”, he drones on again and averts his gaze from his patient professor. “Because that’s where people sleep?”, he finally guesses.
Professor Ghastly sighs unsatisfied by that answer. “You’re on the right track. Ms. Spellman...”
                     Zelda perks up in her seat ready to answer.  
“Why is a spellcaster’s home vulnerable?”, He asks again knowing very well Zelda could get them through the lesson.  
   Zelda knew people envied her for her attainable knowledge. If anything, it made Zelda feel special. It made her feel proud that she added nothing but respect to the Spellman name.  
  “It is vulnerable because a spellcaster’s home is known to be the heart of their power. You see, most spellcasters...”, she glances at Rowena wanting her to know she didn’t belong here. “have a long line to their name. They remain in the family home, where magic is built upon, where the ancestors remain to guide their successors to improve their bloodline. Destroying the heart would destroy the very thing that connects a spellcaster to their family, their honor. A demon may want to attack that to test us in the Dark Lord’s name. If we pass the test, the Dark Lord rewards us.”
  Rowena tries not to scoff at the so obvious hit below-the-belt comment thrown from Zelda. Nonetheless, she takes notes on Zelda’s answer, finding that part very vital in learning the culture of this coven-family was important.  
Professor Ghastly’s expression brightens as he pats Zelda’s shoulder and walks on through the aisle of desks. “Very good, Ms. Spellman. If you would all focus on your studies, you would understand the importance of defense. You should not let anything deceit your family name. The Dark Lord will smile upon future lines as long as you remain in good graces with him. You must understand he doesn’t mean to foil with us, make us feel small. We owe it to him to accept his tests and gladly do as he tells us. Now, I am going to show you diagrams of different archerons.”
Professor Ghastly made his way to the front of the classroom. He waves his hand over the chalkboard chanting under his breath. Before their eyes, an archeron was drawn on the board, filled with runes and sigils at every angle. The students watch in awe.  
“This is an example of an archeron. A warlock and friend of mine created this trapping a demon who tried to snatch his children from his beds. Now sigils and runes make a spell, whether that be just specific to the demon or it be dependent on a warlock or witch’s background. Do any of you recognize these runes?”
Everyone in the room is silent as they observe the picture. Zelda redraws one of the runes on her parchment paper as if to help her decipher it. In all honesty, it had her stumped. She swore she never saw this before. She couldn’t have missed a lesson unless this was something they were yet to go over.  
Suddenly everyone whips around in their seats seeing a fair, small hand raise up. Zelda follows their gazes and finds they’re observing Rowena herself. She knew? No way...
Professor Ghastly’s brows rose though he didn’t look so surprised. It’s like he felt like she would have known. Were they in cohoots?  
“Yes, Ms. Macleod. What do you know about these runes?”, Professor Ghastly questions as he sits at the corner of his desk.  
Rowena barely took notice at the eyes on her. She clears her throat and sits up more in her chair, legs uncrossing beneath her desk. “They’re Celtic.”, she responds. “I have seen those on some of the old monuments in my village. I studied them as they are a part of my culture and within my family line on my mum’s side. Those specifically translate to ‘The ‘napper of the furnace, ye shall not snatch the children of the Night. They are the future and are in the hands of the Dark Lord when they’re ready to give in’. It is clear that the warlock who created this has Celtic or Gaelic origins or...if we’re to be specfic...”
The students lean forward in their seats in innate curiosity. Zelda feigned disinterest, but she wanted to hear more, especially from that accent of hers. She licked her lower lip quickly and held onto her quill.  
“It is the demon Fideal. It is known to inhabit a body of water-to drag down women and children to their deaths. Perhaps, the warlock’s children had been playing by the water and so he decided to trap the demon once and for all.”, Rowena finished and leaned back in her chair looking pleased with herself.
 Fideal? Zelda never heard of that demon. How ironic, that the demon in this lesson was one from her homeland.  
Professor Ghastly chuckled and nodded. “Very good, Ms. Macleod. It seems you could teach us a thing or two about your culture.”  
Rowena flashed him this bright smile. “I would love that, Professor.”
Zelda nearly broke her quill, teeth gritting in irritation. She couldn’t get her favorite professor to like her too.  
“Wonderful. Now, yes, it is not always the spellcaster’s origins that inspire a spell or trap although, using one’s family’s skill to outwit a demon is always helpful. You see, you also need to know your enemy. Not only should we take into account on what we know of ourselves, we must also be comfortable in learning to adapt-to use what we learn to expand our knowledge to perfect our powers.” Professor Ghastly went on and then turned his back to create a new picture.
Zelda looked at her trembling quill, her nerves and anger getting the better of her. She twisted her lips in thought, giving a quick glance toward the satisfied Rowena. She put two and two together forming a most delicious plan. Zelda formed a smirk reeling her attention to her ink jar. She lightly dabbed her quill as if attempting to write some more. She lifts the quill and yawns before flicking it in Rowena’s direction to splatter her with ink.  
Zelda’s friends watched knowing very well what would happen in anticipating. They covered their mouths from an eruption of laugher.
What Zelda didn’t expect was Rowena’s attentiveness.
As the ink flew, making its way in Rowena’s direction, drops almost landing on her nose and the white drooped collar of her dress, her hand lifted halting the drops in place. Her green eyes changed, emitting this bright purple glow. The drops hovered in place, pulsating, awaiting for their permission to move again.  
The room grew silent, jaws all agape in surprise. Zelda gasped inaudibly, the sound caught in her throat. Zelda paled and gulped wondering what Rowena’s next move could be. How did she do that? No witch she met could do that, could just freeze time without an utter of a chant or spell.  
Professor Ghastly turned on his heels feeling this energy in the air. He himself stood there in shock. This witch was like no other witch-no, she was different. He marveled at how composed she made herself to be, her glowing eyes concentrated at even the tiniest drops missed barely by the human eye. It’s like she could even freeze the entire room with that magnitude of power in that petite body of hers.  
Rowena held her breath before exhaling and pushing the droplets forward. Her eyes dimmed, hand lowering. The droplets fell right on the floor in front of her desk, nearly missing Lottie Scuzman’s hair, landing inches away from her chair leg.  
Zelda did not move a muscle. Her throat dried. What was she? No witch can be that powerful, can she? Zelda turned in her seat quickly and set her quill down. Rowena did not back away from her promise. She did not expect this.  
“...w-wow.”, Professor Ghastly stammered and fixed his composure. “I-where did you learn that?”
Rowena shrugged and tapped her ink-stained fingers on her desk. “As long as I can remember, I’ve been able to do that. My mum would tell me it’s because I am a natural witch.”, she explained. “Also, as long as I knew how to defend myself...I wouldn’t need a spellbook.” At this, she looked right at Zelda.
Zelda didn’t need to look at her to know her eyes bore on her. Rowena: 1, Zelda: 0.  
Zelda hid her face of defeat.
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  Spellman Home-the Holidays in the Past.
Being back home is what Zelda dreaded the most. She hated the holidays. This would mean she would have to face her father, Wilbur Reginald Spellman. Most would say Zelda resembled a lot of her father, with the strong chin, her blue eyes, and uptight demeanor. What her immediate family members would say is that they butted heads solely because they resembled each other in personality.  
Vesta Gale Spellman, her mother, is the silent submissive type. She hung on to every word of her husband with little to no opinion on her own. Still, she was pretty to look at with her fair strawberry blonde hair and her hazel eyes. She serves the family dinner and then pushes in the youngest Spellman’s seat with a light brow raised.
“Sit up, Hildegarde, dear.”, she chided the youngest quietly.  
Hilda. Sweet little innocent Hilda. Next year, Zelda’s little sister would attend the Academy of the Unseen Arts. Tomorrow night was her Dark Baptism. Zelda hid her enthusiasm that finally her little sister would be signing her name away to the Dark Lord’s book. She knew deep down her sister had her doubts. Every night, whenever Zelda was home away from school, she would taunt her sister, giving her fiendish nightmares so that should would finally give in and stop being afraid of that important night. She couldn’t squander the Spellman name. Zelda, in fact, was doing her a favor. If Hilda didn’t participate, she would find herself in one of Father’s fits of rage. Hilda knew going to the Academy meant she would never escape the terrorism of her older sister.
Zelda could not wait to harrow her little sister. She counted on it.
However, Edward had one more year in the Academy. Hilda would be safe in her first year. It made Zelda boil with anger that Edward always defended Hilda. Hilda’s growing of a backbone would simply be a necessity, a lesson granted by a loving older sister.  
The children waited until their father joined the table so that they all may join in prayer to the Dark lord. Wilbur cleared his throat and set a napkin neatly on his lap.  
“Good evening, children. Welcome back home, Zelda and Edward. Hildegarde, you will start next year. Your Dark Baptism starts tomorrow at midnight. Are you ready to take in the Dark Lord?”
 Everyone turned their attention over to the youngest. Hilda’s eyes hardly met her father’s. She nearly trembled in his presence, always having feared him. She fixes a small strand of her blonde hair before answering sheepishly.  
“Yes, Father.”
Wilbur accepts that response and nods. “Very well. Now, let us join in prayer. Dark Lord, may you continue to guide this family in your beautiful darkness and present even more wisdom into our lives so that we may continue to grow our line with the Spellman wit. We will present our last child to your grace tomorrow at the blood moon. We thank you for providing our sustenance, our power, and the shelter that covers our heads. Praise Satan.”
They all murmur ‘Praise Satan’ after him. In synchronicity, they pick up their forks to eat,  Hilda being the only one who doesn’t dig right in and picks around to eat the vegetables, of course.
Zelda ponders on her father’s prayer. Not everyone had always had a roof over their heads. She thought about Rowena. She came so far and must have gone through so much to finally have a roof, to have warm food to eat, water to drink. It must have been because her name had not been written in the Book. Perhaps, Father Mephisto would organize a Dark Baptism for Rowena as well. As if the coven would accept her. Zelda pushed her thoughts away and shook her head. That girl thought she was so great with her...not-so-interesting powers. Still, a part of her begged to know more, begged to see more...longed to learn from this ‘natural’ witch.
“Father...”, Zelda piped up after a long uncomfortable silence. “What is a natural witch?”
Wilbur set his fork down and stared at his plate. His brows rose in surprise, blue eyes searching for his wife’s hazel ones. Vesta shared the same expression, but did not say a word as usual.  
“Where have you heard of this? Have they been teaching of things outside of the Dark Lord’s realm?”, he interrogated.  
Everything felt like an interrogation around Wilbur. He did not know how to make a room lively. His demeanor matched the darkness of the family home. Only Edward and Hilda’s rare smiles could lighten up a room when their father was away.  
“What do you mean outside of the Dark Lord’s realm?”, Zelda asked eyes filled with piqued curiosity.
Edward wiped his lips with his napkin, head tilting in the same growing curiosity his sister had. Hilda chewed on a piece of squash, round green eyes filled with intrigue. Both of her siblings waited for their all-knowing father’s response.  
Wilbur did not expect that question, but he knew better than to underestimate his daughter’s irritating yet brilliant mind.  
“There are witches who have their source elsewhere and there are those who have powers unexplained. Powers bestowed to them by birth.”, Wilbur explained. “Those born with this are misguided, not having the Dark Lord in their lives. It is all heresy. That is why the Dark Lord does not protect them unless they give themselves over.”
Zelda furrows her brows, her calculating mind stewing. “If they are born with such abilities, where do they get it from?”, she pressed on, teeth ripping the mortal flesh from her fork.  
Vesta shakes her head at Zelda’s curiosities. She taught Zelda better than to keep questioning what is outside of the Dark Lord’s reach. She hoped it wouldn’t give her these ideas.  
“Why are you asking such horrendous questions? Do we need to speak to your Professors?”, Wilbur’s voice grew an octave.  
Vesta places a hand on her husband’s shoulder as if to sate on an upcoming battle-the usual occurrence at the Spellman table between father and daughter. She didn’t want to have to deal with both disastrous tempers. Wilbur visibly calmed, shoulders slowly releasing their tension.  
“My dear, remember what the physician said about your hypertension.”, Vesta murmured.
Wilbur sniffed and rolled his eyes. “Your daughter is asking the inquiries of a heretic.”
Zelda shut her eyes counting to ten before daring to defend herself. She hated that her father took things to the extreme.  
“I am asking because the Academy took in this new witch. She has not signed her name in the Book. She was brought in from the storm and had nowhere to go.”, Zelda began to explain.
Wilbur scoffed beginning his retort, “Since when do we unquestionably take in a witch? How do we know she isn’t a spy?”
Edward cleared his throat before he spoke up on behalf of his sister. “Father Mephisto grant it so.”, he responded calmly. “He foresees the Dark Lord bringing her to us so that we may perhaps guide her on her way.”
Oh yes, perhaps if Zelda dissuaded the intruder from the Dark Lord, then she wouldn’t further invade their lives.  
Wilbur lowered his gaze to the table. “If...”, he takes a sharp inhale. “Father Mephisto bade it so, then he is correct. The Dark Lord speaks to him. Perhaps, the Dark Lord should usher the child onto the Path of Night.”
Zelda stifled a scoff and played with her food this time. She still yearned to know more. “As I was saying, the girl had been taken in. In class yesterday, we discovered...something strange about her. She revealed glowing eyes as she froze an object.” Her blue eyes moved over to her father who paled in shock. “By your countenance, something tells me you know exactly what this is.”
Hilda’s eyes widened as she glanced between her sister and her father. “Her eyes glowed and froze something?”, she spoke up, voice pitched slightly higher.  
Wilbur balled his fists and maintained his composure. “Yes, I have heard of this. What you witnessed was indeed that of a...natural witch.”, the last part subdued.  
Zelda’s eyebrows quirked, brain marveling at the thought something more to their dark path existed-something she could use against the girl. “And where does a natural witch get their powers?”
Wilbur actually appeared stumped. “Natural witches are rare, Zelda.” He sat up straight before he continued. “In fact, not one of us know where they get it from. Most have died in the time of the Greendale Thirteen. Apparently, they weren’t wise enough to hide themselves in the shadows, thinking they could win over the mortals with their...mystique.”
He sounded almost rigid with his explanation as if he did not agree with the ways of a natural witch. Zelda took note of this.
“But perhaps if the Dark Lord commands it, we must welcome the new witch. He presents us with a test. If we change the ways of this young witch, then we may have more power on our side to the Path of Night. We mustn’t disobey the Dark Lord’s wishes, can we?”
Zelda sets her jaw as she holds contact with her father, the room being still and tense. She slowly nods in agreement with her father.
“Of course, Father. We shan’t.”, she replies with a small grin and fingers crossed behind her back.
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To be continued... ;)
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stardust-22 · 5 years
Text
WHAT IF THIS HAPPENED (AU) CH.5/?
A/N: Writing this took a couple of writing sessions but it’s finally done! Without further ado, here’s the next chapter! As always, feedback is always appreciated xx 
Tagging @totalfictionprincess @elizaglad @turtlesandalpacas @kanakalala458 @justconfusedperiod @aesthetically-feisty @apocalypticdetention @scriberated @bluecandy91 @calibansprincessx @perfect-ginger-maniac @xxspacequeennxx @calibanswhore
cause y’all are squad lol
CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3| CHAPTER 4| CHAPTER 6 PART 1 |
CHAPTER 6 PART 2|
SUMMARY: Pagans swarmed into Greendale. Sabrina & Caliban compete in the final regalia.
CHAPTER 5: THE CHALLENGE
SABRINA POV
I can’t believe that was our first kiss and it felt electrifying. After our kiss, I had to calm my heart rate from speeding up too fast. You shouldn’t be overreacting like this Sabrina, it’s just a kiss with your husband who you’re in a political marriage with.
I looked up towards Caliban and Ambrose, “Okay since our wedding is done. We need to make a quick stop here on earth to take care of the pagans before we can move forward with the third challenge. Does that sound good to you?”
“Sounds good to me, cousin. I’m going to head back to the academy to check on Aunt Zee, Prudence and Aunt Hilda. I’ll leave you and your loverboy here to plan but meet back at the academy please.”
On that note, Ambrose bid me and Caliban adieu.
I was so deep in thought, Caliban started to shake my shoulder trying to snap me out of my revoir.
“Princess, are you okay?” Caliban looked at me concerned but I blocked him out. Why does this kiss have a deeper effect on me? Thinking back to my kisses with Harvey’s and Nick’s, my kiss with Caliban felt more significantly different than theirs. Hmm is it because he knows what I’m going through trying to live up to everyone’s expectations? That he understands me on a level that no one can perceive but us. We’re both “competing” against each other for the throne. But maybe this marriage thing could work out. And he’s been more considerate now since he helped me and the gang saved Roz. But we’ll see where this goes. I didn’t notice in my reverie while I was thinking about Caliban, that I was staring at his lips the entire time.
Caliban saw the direction of my stare has changed and started to give me that cheeky grin of his.
“Care for another my Queen?”
I gave Caliban a slight shove and my blush began to give away my true feelings.
“My dear husband, focus on the plan here. We need to figure out how to defeat the pagans and also plan for the third challenge.”
“Hold on, one situation at a time my Queen. Maybe if we regroup with your aunties and cousin, we’ll be able to figure out everything together.”
“Fine Caliban. We’ll focus on the pagans then we can continue on with planning for the challenge.”
“As you wish, my Queen.”
“Wait before I forget, maybe we should change our wedding attire back into our regular clothes. Since we don’t want to show everyone that we’ve gotten married, right?” I felt a blush reddening on my cheeks, looking down away from him.
“That would be a good idea my Queen. And we’ll have to glamour our rings as well until we reveal to everyone that we’re married.”
We were walking back to the dressing rooms that Ambrose made up for us. While I was changing, I kept staring at my ring. It was a rose gold band encrusted with diamond and a moonstone shaped like a teardrop. Even the matching wedding band itself was beautiful as well. A rose gold band with a diamond arch to match with the engagement ring.
While I was gazing at my ring, I almost forgot to use a glamour to hide it.
“Abscondere annulum meum.” I murmured to myself and my ring was hidden away. But not for long, it’ll reappear again. I’m probably overthinking this but Caliban chose beautiful rings for me even though we barely know each other that well. Maybe Ambrose had a hand in this since he’s my cousin after all. At least I’m back wearing my regular clothes even though I did love the gown that Deumos made for me.
I heard a knock at the door.
“Princess, you’re taking your sweet time in there. Might you need assistance on changing because I will be happily obliged to do that.”
“That is definitely not necessary for you to do that. I was about to get out anyways.”
After I opened the door, I was met by Caliban’s face staring at me. He was rather pleased with himself in trying to make me blush. Luckily my embarrassment went away before I opened the door. We both left the dressing rooms and headed outside to the clearing.
“Let’s head back to the academy and regroup with everyone.”
As I felt Caliban’s flames start to ignite, I felt his arm wrapped around my shoulder as we began to teleport back to the academy. Caliban’s flames began to dispitate and his grip on my shoulder loosen down. We appeared in front of the entrance of the academy and started to walk through the doors to head inside. I stood in front of Caliban as I led us to the academy’s office. Due to the chaos with the pagans, the halls were empty with no one in sight. I walked into the office and saw Aunt Zee, Aunt Hilda, Ambrose and Prudence gathered around.
“Hi everyone! What’s going on here?”
“There you are Sabrina. We were wondering where you had gone off to and I’m not surprised you’re not putting much commitment to the family or the coven.” Aunt Zee said while she was smoking her cigarette. Oh classic Aunt Zee with her comebacks.
“School ran late but I made it just in time! I also brought a friend with me who might be able to help us. Everyone this is Caliban, Prince of Hell.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”
“Isn’t this the same Caliban that you’re going against the throne for?” Aunt Zee quipped up.
“Auntie Zee, defeating the pagans is our top priority and we need all the help we can get. Now what’s happened since I’ve been away?”
“Well cousin, since we captured Circe we need to figure how to defeat the pagans before they start to retaliate.” Ambrose interjected to dispel any tension simmering before it heated up.
“So how long do you think we have before they start to raid us?”
“About 2 to 3 days but not much any longer.”
“We’ve already killed 4 of their members and have Circe held captive. We need to reconvene and gather everyone together.” Prudence added into the conversation.
“Okay Aunt Zee and Aunt Hilda, you guys head back to the house to check if we have anything useful to bring to the fight. Ambrose and Prudence, you guys tell everyone to get themselves ready cause it’s all hands on deck from here. Me and Caliban will head back to hell’s library to see if there’s anything that could be of use to us. Then we can regroup back at the Spellman mortuary.”
“Sabrina don’t forget about dinner since I’ll be making my famous english supper. Maybe Caliban can tag along as well? If he doesn’t mind.” Aunt Hilda always likes to get the last word in.
“It would be a pleasure to join you all for dinner. I hope my presence doesn’t intrude on your plans.” Caliban said oozing out the charm there.
“Come on Caliban. We don’t want to keep everyone waiting on us. Bye aunties, Ambrose and Prudence. We’ll see all of you at the house!” As I motioned Caliban out of the office and made our way to the library. After we teleported to the library, I felt annoyed with Caliban for some reason.
“Princess, if you wanted to get me alone all you have to do is ask me.”
“Caliban you almost blew our cover. We can’t let the Aunties, Prudence or anyone else know that there’s something more between us.”
“My Queen, you’re overreacting. Your Aunt Hilda was just being nice and you did say that you needed all the help in order to defeat the pagans remember?”
Suddenly I felt him closing in the distance between us. His face was going in fairly close to mine and his arms were above me, holding me hostage that I couldn’t escape from.
He then whispered to my ear, “Besides my dear Queen, I can think of other ways to bide our time.”
I felt his left hand move down to my shoulder and had to close my eyes. I felt movement and as I opened my eyes, he was actually grabbing a book from behind me.
“This book might be of some use to us in defeating the pagans. I’m going to examine more of its contents and check back with you. Give me a yell if you find anything as well Princess.”
After that, Caliban cheekily smirked at me and walked back towards the table.
That cheeky jerk knew what he was doing. He just wanted to get a reaction out of me and my thoughts went straight to the gutter. Oh he is so gonna get some payback after this whole situation is done. Rustling away my plans that I have to get back at Caliban later, I need to focus on the task at hand.
Now, Robin said earlier that in order for the green man ritual to go through is that they need a virgin. But we can’t let them take any of my friends away so that’s not going to happen. Maybe if we had a decoy or something to use as bait then we’ll be able to foil their plans.
Caliban and I spent about an hour or so in the library, trying to absorb all the information that could be of help to them. Then suddenly, I was looking down at the time on my watch and told Caliban that we need to regroup back with everyone at the Spellman house. The flames were igniting around me and Caliban which then teleported us away back to my house. As Caliban and I were walking to the house, we saw Aunt Zelda burying something in the ground with a shovel.
I was walking up to Aunt Zee and asked her, “Aunt Zee what are you doing? Who is that?”
“Your Aunt Hilda here turned into a spider and ended up killing Dr. Cee and a random stranger who was visiting from out of town. She asked me to kill her but she’ll be able to resurrect back up again, don’t worry. Now let’s gather round back inside.”  
Both Caliban and I then followed Aunt Zee back inside the house after she was finishing burying up Aunt Hilda. After we got inside, Aunt Zee asked us if we had found anything useful to help with the fight. But before we could answer her, there was a knock at the door.
“Sabrina, see you were worrying for nothing. That must be your Aunt Hilda right now at the door. Let me get the door first then continue with your explanation afterwards.” After Aunt Zee said that, she rushed to the door and opened it. Suddenly a huge bang can be heard throughout the house.
Caliban murmured, “somno mulier recedemus.”
There at the door was Mary Wardwell, who then fell face flat on the floor. I was so busy looking to see who it was that I didn’t realize something happened to Aunt Zee. I ran over to where Aunt Zee was and placed her on my lap. I’m trying to stop the bleeding because there's too much going on.
“Ambrose! Come quickly! Aunt Zee just got shot by Mary Wardwell. Caliban, come over here to help me stop the bleeding.”
I felt Caliban right beside me and took over holding the cloth, trying to provide pressure in hopes of stopping the bleeding.
“Ambrose she barely has a pulse.”
“Stay with her! I’ll gather reinforcements.” After Ambrose left, I tried to gather my thoughts.
“Aunt Zee, I’m not done driving you crazy yet. Please stay with me, just hold on. Help is coming.” Trying to get her to stay awake still.
Ambrose came back hurrying down the stairs with Mambo Marie and Prudence in tow.
“Cousin! I’ve brought reinforcements.”
“The bleeding won’t stop even after I applied pressure to it. Caliban had to take over for me cause I couldn’t gather my wits together. And her heartbeat is so faint”
“It’s gonna be alright. Mambo Marie said she can help.” Prudence put her hand on my shoulder to reassure me.
“I can try cheries. Where in this house can I operate?” “The basement! We can bring her down there.” Ambrose stammered.
I tried to get up to help everyone bring Aunt Zee down to the basement but someone’s hand stopped me from moving. I looked up and saw Caliban there.
“Caliban what are you doing? We need to get down there to help Aunt Zee.”
“Princess, you need to calm down. I’m sure Mambo Marie knows what she’s doing but I need to get you to relax. You’ve just been dealt with some heavy trauma right now. We’ll reconvene with them later. Now where should I take us to gather up your thoughts?” Caliban grabbed my hand and I took us over by the dining room so we’ll be able to sit down properly.
“Wait what happened to Mrs. Wardwell, Caliban? Wasn’t she at the front door earlier?”
“I was able to cast a spell put her to sleep and managed to tie her up so she won’t be able to move. She’s actually sleeping on the couch in your living room right now.” He pointed to the direction of the woman in question sleeping on my couch.
“Wait how were you able to do that? I’m so confused since I thought you aren’t able to cast any spells.” I looked at him defiantly. But him doing this is helping me calm down just a bit and provide a good distraction.
“Being the Prince of Hell does have its perks. I was feigning about not being able to cast spells but my Queen, I do have to apologize. This was before our alignment when we were still fighting each other for the Holy Regalia. My powers are seeded from the pits of hell and you know how I am made of clay. I was born from the pits and was able to grow forth my powers even more.” Caliban explained.
“I might consider your apology but you’re threading very carefully. May, I ask how old are you though?” Suddenly curious about his age and makes me wonder if I want to learn more about him.
“I was in a deep slumber for a long time until you came about Princess. I may be a few months old chronologically, but biologically I am 20. Just don’t tease me about my age.”
“Whatever you say Caliban. I also wanted to thank you for comforting me about what happened with Aunt Zee. And also taking care of Mrs. Wardwell for me.” I was looking down at my hands while I said that since I didn’t want to see his reaction.
Suddenly, his hand was on my chin and made me look up back at him.
“Remember the vows, I’ve spoken to you earlier? I promise to be patient, and to remember that all things between us are rooted in each other. And to realize your interests, desires & needs are no less important than my own. I promised to uphold these vows to you and be there in your time of need. I’m here to reaffirm those affirmations that we said to each other.”
While Caliban said that, his grip on my chin loosen and his hand went towards mine and clasped together with his. My blush went exactly tenfold on my face. Woah there mister hot stuff, stop trying to distract me. But on the hand, this feels extremely calming and maybe different than what I was used to.
“I appreciate you for being here for me. And doing all of this, I’m not sure how I’ll be able to repay for everything that you’ve done for me. But I do know that I want to get to know you better. Maybe we should continue this conversation after defeating the pagans and the third challenge is finished?”
“Anything you asked for my Queen, it shall be done. I think you looked more level headed now so we should probably head down and check what happened.”
Both Caliban and I stood up from our seats and made our descent towards the basement. Walking side by side together, our hands neared each other. Fingers meeting but barely within touching distance. We arrived in front of the basement and walked right inside. Candles were lit, Aunt Zee was on the table while Ambrose, Prudence and Madam Mambo were surrounding her.
“Ambrose what did we missed?” I questioned him as me and Caliban were within hearing distance from everyone.
“Mambo Marie was able to get the bullet out of her wound. But Aunt Zee still hasn’t awakened.”
“Is there anything more that we could do Mambo Marie?” Prudence asked.
“Zelda will need the greatest strength to be woken up. You three are not able to do that, possibly Caliban can but I’m not sure if he could. There is life here but she is lost between the land of the dead and the living. Her espirit has wandered down deep into the “in-between”, the Nether Realm of the Gede Lwa.” Mambo Marie explained to the young witches, warlock and demon prince.
“Wait so she’s basically in Limbo then?” I asked her.
“Different words but same meaning for the same place. And now we wait. We burn the violet candles. For that is the best way for Zelda to be leading back to us, here in this life.” Ambrose looked crushed and Prudence was silently comforting him. I felt Caliban’s hand near mine secretly, giving me comfort.
There was a loud screeching noise making the room alert. Mambo Marie shooed us away to go check what’s going on outside as she tended to Aunt Zelda.
Ambrose, Prudence, Caliban and I made our way up the stairs and headed straight to the front porch. There outside was a woman in a black outfit and wearing a black hat with a veil.
“What is that?” I wondered aloud staring at the figure in the distance.
“That dear Spellman, is a banshee. It’s a bad omen, meaning that someone will die soon in the Spellman family. Maybe more than one.” Prudence gravely announced to us.
“No, Prudence. I don’t care what she is. No one is dying in this house.” I nodded my head to Caliban to follow me back inside as we left Prudence and Ambrose outside.
Eventually everyone gathered towards the drawing room to come up with a plan. There was a sudden knock at the door and in came, Dorcas with Elsepth in tow. Prudence concerned about what happened with Dorcas moved feverently to her.
“Dorcas what happened? Why were you and Elsepth outside and why are you covered in blood?”
“It’s Faustaus and Agatha. Apparently, the Dark Lord and Faustaus were able to split apart from each other. But Faustaus was given the Mark of Cain and is with Agatha, plus a couple of pagans in search of an egg. They’re actually on their way to this house right now on the hunt for it. We don’t have much time before they get here.” Dorcas explained everything in a rush.
“Okay, everyone don’t panic. First we need to get everyone here into safety. Let’s head back downstairs to inform Mambo Marie and then teleport ourselves back to the academy.” I ordered everyone in a calm fashion.
We all rushed downstairs to Mambo Marie and Aunt Zee to explain the situation that was brought upon us. I told everyone to gather around and hold each other’s hands. Caliban’s hand gripped mine fiercely but in a determined way.
I heard the front door burst open from upstairs and heard Faustaus shouting,” kill every spellman, that you can find.”
“Lunuae Magicae!” I shouted as we teleported back to the academy. We arrived in the main corridor and everyone was still intact.
“Mambo Marie stay by Aunt Zee and make sure she’ll be safe. Now we need to gather everyone in the academy and put up protection spells around the perimeter.”
“Voce mea nunc.” I murmured.
“Attention warlocks and witches, now I need everyone to put up protection spells surrounding the academy. This is not a drill but please come back inside quickly and I’ll tell everyone the rest of the plan.”
I saw the rest of the students rushed outside and began to put up protection spells around the academy. I saw Caliban gave me his usual smirk impressed with my leadership. He had his arms folded in and leaned against the stairway. I walked over to his direction and my hands were placed on my hips.
“Now wonderboy. I have a question I’d like to ask you, how good are you at protection spells?”
“Princess, I admire your leadership. You know if you’d like to give me orders, I’d gladly follow them for something else.”
“Not now Caliban, now please answer my question.”
“I’m pretty good at making protection sigils. Would that please you my Queen?”
“Thank you. Now please let’s hurry before anything else starts to cause havoc around here.”
Everyone was finishing up casting the protection spells and heard someone shouted I got it. I looked over and saw Aunt Zelda was awake!
“Aunt Zee you’re finally awake! What happened?” I exclaimed to her.
“Sabrina dear, I finally have the answer that we’ve been waiting for. We’ll be able to get our powers back. Now where’s your Aunt Hilda? I was just with her a moment ago in the Nether Realm and I don’t see her here.”
Ambrose came in bursting to the hallway with Prudence right behind him. “Aunt Zee, you’re finally awake. Thank Satan for that and to answer your question, unfortunately Aunt Hilda did not make it.” Ambrose told her while Prudence wrapped her arm around him.
“What do you mean she did not make it? I was just with her a second ago and now she’s not here?!”
I placed my hand on top of Aunt Zee’s, “She didn’t rise back up from the Cain Pit Aunt Zee. She’s dead.”
“Nonsense. I’m gonna go bring her back alive myself if I have to. I’ll use what I’ve learned from the next life and dragged her back here.”
She continued on, “Now who’s with me on going back to the Spellman household to bring back our Sister Hilda from the dead!”
“Wait, Aunt Zee. Maybe one of us should astral project to see if the coast is clear back at home. Remember Faustaus, Agatha & their gang were on the hunt for us and that egg.” I told Aunt Zee, who was fiercely determined to bring back Aunt Hilda back. But we need to be cautious of everything.
“Sabrina, I volunteer. It shouldn’t take me that long but I’ll let you all know when everything is in the clear.” Prudence volunteered herself before I was able to say anything.
She does have a vendetta against her father and I know she has a bone or two to pick with him. So I’m pretty much okay with her taking this instead. Seeing as we have other pressing matters later.
While Ambrose and Prudence were busy checking out if our house is cleared. Everyone else was separated into small groups. Now that I think about it, I realised the fright club isn’t here or Nick. And Faustaus is probably on the hunt for them too. Before I decided to make my way over to them, I felt my hand being grabbed back. Low and behold, it’s Cal.
“Where are you running off to Princess? Might I, be of assistance in this quest you’ve partaken?”
“You’re never letting me out of your sight, are you?” I gave him a little smirk.
“If I said yes, I would be lying to myself. And you might need help on this little adventure, so I decided to tag along as well.”
“Oh alright Cal. Well, I’m very worried about my friends and I suspect that Faustaus and his gang are probably after them. Let’s just call it my gut intuition.”
“Then what are we waiting for, we should go. We should let everyone know that we have something to take care of and I like the nickname Princess.”
“Don’t get used to it. I’ll inform Ambrose and Prudence. I’ll ask Ambrose to let me know if the house is cleared then we’ll meet them over there. Let’s leave now before anything else happens.”
So both Caliban and I walked over to Prudence and Ambrose. I informed them about needing to check on the gang before they get fried from Faustaus and company. And Ambrose to text me if the house is cleared. Then Caliban’s flames ignited around us and we promptly arrived at Harvey’s garage.
“Sabrina, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be competing for the final regalia?” Nick questioned me with hidden anger in his voice.
“Wait what is Caliban doing here?” Harvey said behind Nick.
Before I could utter a word, Caliban interrupted me.
“We’re not competing yet for the final regalia due to some unexpected circumstances that appeared. Also we came to save your sorry asses since in a few minutes, Faustaus and his gang are out to hunt you guys. So thank us for being here.”
“As I was about to say that before Caliban here interrupted me. We all need to go now before they get here. I just got a text from Ambrose that the house is clear. So, we should head over there now before it’s too late.”  
Since everyone has agreed to the plan, we all gathered around in a circle. Caliban’s flames engulfed around us as we slowly teleported off to the Spellman house. Right in time because eventually, Faustaus and his gang arrived at the scene.
“Those mangey brats aren’t here.” Faustaus exclaimed in frustration.
_______________________________________________________________
Caliban’s flames disappeared quickly and we finally arrived back at the house. Everyone was gathered by the Cain Pit. The guys decided to stand by and sit at the side as Aunt Zee wanted all the women to gather around by her. The hedge witches, Roz, Prudence, Dorcas, Elsepth, and the rest of the Academy girls and I were all holding hands. While Aunt Zelda was by Aunt Hilda’s grave and began to chant her spell.
“It is said that whenever you call on The Triple Goddess, she comes to you. As much as I ignored her, put my faith in lesser gods, signed my name in other books, she still came to me when I needed her most. When I wandered, lost in the Nether Realm, it was she who led me back to the material world. We call you, Hecate. We call you on now, Maiden, in your unbounded potential. We call on you, Divine Mother, in all your divine power. We call on you, Crone, in your arcane wisdom. We are descended from all maidens, mothers, and crones. And so, when we call on the three-in-one, we call on all witches stretching back from the beginning of time to the end of days. We call on… ourselves, the powers that have been denied to us. Imbue us with them, Hecate, and we shall pray to you morning, noon and night. And we shall live to honor the thy three faces, thy three forms.”
Aunt Zee continued as she kneeled on the ground, “Dark Mother, the keeper of the key to the door between worlds, we… summon thee. Return our Sister Hilda, to the realm of the living, and we will never forget you again!”
I opened my eyes and felt the wind all around me. Thunder came bursting through the clouds, and we waited with bated breath to see if Hecate would answer our calling. Then the wind subsided.
“Hilda?” Aunt Zelda asked, wondering where she was.
“Hildy are you there?” Then Aunt Zee went down on her knees stumped. Ambrose was trembling in tears and I felt droplets filling up in my eyes. This should have worked so why wasn’t this working at all?
Then all of a sudden, Aunt Hilda’s hand popped out from the ground. Aunt Zee grabbed her hand and pulled her out from the ground.
“So, what have I missed?” Aunt Hilda asked everyone.
“A lot, Aunt Hilda. The pagans still need to be stopped.” I answered her.
“Bloody pagans. What trouble are they causing now?”
We told her that in order for the pagans to be stopped, we need to get rid of the green man ritual. How they’re planning to use the green man’s seed and put them inside the caramel apples to everyone in town. Aunt Hilda suggested a lullaby to sing so everyone in town will go to sleep and not go to the carnival.  
Aunt Hilda, Prudence, Aunt Zelda and Ambrose were casting the lullaby back at the house. Caliban and I decided to put glamours on ourselves to trick the pagans. I glamoured as Robin, while Caliban glamoured as Mrs. Wardwell since they needed a virgin for the ritual.
As I brought fake “Mrs. Wardwell” to the carnival, Caliban had to say something to me.
“Princess, easy on the manhandling. You have precious cargo here.”
“Stick with the plan Cal. We just need to get through them and then we can finally attack.” I shushed him as I presented Mrs. Wardwell to the pagans. The pagans were convinced that “Robin” didn’t betray them.
Now the pagans were gathered by the Green Man and started to worship and pray for him.
“Mrs. Wardwell” was trapped inside in the middle of the big plant man structure. Mrs. Wardwell was yelling at them to stop. The branches & vines around the Green Man began to wrap around the arms of “Mrs. Warwell” and the branches/vines started to break. The pagans thinking they had victory rejoiced until suddenly the Green Man started to deteriorate. Flames started to spread all over the structure and began to burn. And low and behold, revealed to be Caliban with a smirk on his face. The pagans were shocked by these turn of events.
“Who did you bring us Robin?” Nagaina exclaimed.
“That’s Caliban, Prince of Hell. He’s born from the pits and has pretty good flames. So your structure didn’t last that long.” As I revealed myself from this Robin glamour to the pagans.
“You and your devilment. What have you done?” Carcosa yelled in frustration.
* Remember earlier, Caliban was able to subdue Mrs. Wardwell and I made her forget that the Spellmans were witches.*
“I destroyed your lame little plant god. Now I think it’s time for you and your carnival to leave Greendale.” Everyone was gathered behind me, prepared for battle. The pagans began to run for their lives.
“Coven, do not stop until every last pagan is driven from our home.” Aunt Zelda commanded everyone.
*Everyone was defeated. Fight was finished.*
Back at the Spellman household all was well.
“And so Greendale was saved once again.” Ambrose said with a toast in hand.
“And tomorrow morning, the town will wake up nice and rested.” Aunt Hilda added.
“And none the wiser sister.” Aunt Zelda agreed with her.
“Thank you Sabrina. When the coven and your family needed you most, you were there.” Aunt Zee said to me.
“It was nothing, Aunt Zee. It was never a question.” I told her truthfully.
“I suppose you’ll be running back to Hell to finish the third and final challenge, Cousin?” Ambrose asked me with curiosity.
“Yes, I still need to go back down there to handle some unfinished business. Before I go, I need to have a chat with you Ambrose. Aunties, I’ll see you guys soon. Don’t worry I’ll be back for dinner tomorrow.” I gave a wave to both Aunt Zee and Aunt Hilda as I motioned my head for Ambrose to follow me back to the other room.
When we were finally out of hearing distance from the Aunties, Ambrose looked at me with concerned eyes.
“Cousin, is there something you’re not telling me?”
“Please keep my secret about me and Caliban until we finally tell everyone. Also I want you to bring the Aunties, Dr. Cee, the Fright Club, Nick, Prudence, Dorcas and Dorian for my coronation. Since I need all the support I can get after the challenge is done.” “Don’t worry cousin, your secret is safe with me and I’ll make sure to bring everyone to your coronation.”
“Thanks Ambrose! I’ll send you a text after everything has been dealt with. Surprisingly, they have Wifi down in Hell. Who would have thought that it would be there? But I got to run!” I gave Ambrose a hug then teleported down to Hell.
I appeared in a somewhat familiar room and when I opened my eyes, I saw Caliban on his bed reading a book. He glanced up from his book and gave me his cheeky jerk of a smile.
“Welcome back Princess. Shall we discuss the plan on how we should work together for the final challenge?”
I walked over to him and sat on the right side of his bed.
“Well, we should still keep up with pretenses and make everyone think that we still hate each other.”
Caliban added, “I’ll give you a tell which is me messing with my ring. That means we should meet up after we have met up with our respective teams.”
“Okay, but where should we meet?”
“We can meet back at the library and then proceed with getting Judas’ pieces of silver afterwards.”
“Sounds like a good plan. I should probably leave your room before anyone spots me.” As I was about to get out of his bed, he pulled my arm back down towards him. And suddenly Caliban’s right on top of me.  
“Caliban stop distracting me. I need to go before anyone else wants to head to your room.” I said as I was trying to get out of his grip.
“Before you leave, I wanted to give a token of my appreciation towards you. Until we reunite, later on again.” After he said that, his face slowly met mine. I closed my eyes since I was so nervous and wasn’t sure what he was planning. I felt his lips traced mine but eventually his mouth moved towards my forehead.
‘I honestly thought we were gonna have a makeout session over here. Bad Sabrina, get your mind out of the gutter.’ Slightly frustrated at myself and I finally opened my eyes while Caliban was smirking at me, probably knew what I was thinking about.
“Don’t worry my Queen, be patient. Now let’s get you out of here undetected before someone barges in on us.” Caliban said while he got off from the bed and helped me get down. We walked together towards his door and he gave a kiss on my hand.
Checking the hallway to see if the coast is clear, I silently left Caliban’s room.
_____________________________________________________________________
*A few hours later*
Everyone was gathered in the infernal court as Daddy dearest here, was announcing his speech.
“My lords and ladies of Disrule, rejoice. For I am returned. Kneel before me, and let’s get back to business.” The Dark Lord proclaimed.
“Kneel before you? Weren’t you dethroned and imprisoned by your own witches?” Purson challenged him back.
The Dark Lord snapped his neck and killed him. Everyone gasped in shock at what happened.
“Any more questions?” The Dark Lord asked everyone in the crowd.
Suddenly, Caliban stepped forward and said, “Lord Morningstar?”
Lilith rolled her eyes, “Oh this should be good.” “Yes, and you are?” Lucifer questioned the man in front of him.
“Caliban, Prince of Hell.”
“How can you be Prince of Hell when I, who am Hell itself, know nothing of you?”
Beezlebub piped into their conversation, “Respectfully, my lord Lucifer, we are in the middle of a quest for the three objects of the Unholy Regalia.”
“Yes, I am quite aware, Beezlebub.”
“Infernal protocol must be followed. The contest must be seen to the end. Caliban and Sabrina have each found one item. Whoever finds the third, Judas Iscariot’s 30 pieces of silver, will sit upon the throne of Hell. And not even you can interfere with that quest.”
“Where, then, is my daughter?”
“She’ll turn up. She usually does.” Lilith mentioned this to Lucifer.
________________________________________________________
“I am ready to start the last challenge of the Unholy Regalia.” I announced loudly for all to hear.
“Sabrina, you must secure Judas Iscariot’s 30 pieces of silver and reclaim victory for the House of Morningstar.” Lucifer said to me.
I saw Caliban conferring with the three kings as me, Lilith and Lucifer were also in our own little corner.
“That Prince of Clay will never find Judas’ silver.” He whispered to both Lilith and I. I gave a backwards glance at Caliban and saw he was giving his tell, which is fiddling with his ring. I gave him a look to let him know we’ll meet soon. Not letting Lucifer or Lilith raise them of suspicion, I continued on listening.
“What makes you so sure?” I questioned Lucifer.
“Because Judas himself was the only person who knows where it is. And I am the one person who can take you to Judas.”
“Careful, Dark Lord. Sabrina must complete this task on her own. Any help from you in front of the Kings of Hell, and the challenge could be deemed a forfeit.” Lilith warned Lucifer on if he helped me with the challenge.
Beezlebub walked towards the middle of the room and announced, “Let the final challenge for the coins of the great betrayer, Judas Iscariot, begin!”
I saw Caliban walked out of the room and was heading towards the library. But before I could leave, Lucifer sent me a telepathic message.
‘Go to the Ninth Circle, the hottest in Hell. There, in a volcanic cave, embedded in the walls, you will find the three worst betrayals in history, Cassius, Brutus and Judas Iscariot.’ I gave Lucifer a nod and left the main room of Pandemonium.
I continued walking far away from everyone until the hallways looked cleared and sneaked over towards the library. There I saw Caliban sitting at our table where we were researching for the Pygmalion Spell. Caliban looked up from the book he was reading and gave me a smile. Man, every time this guy smiles it makes me melt. But I don’t want to get ahead of ourselves with my feelings here.
“Well, hello there Princess. What took you so long?” Caliban said to me right off the bat.
“I was checking to see if anyone was in the hallways and making sure no one spotted me coming down over here. Take a chill pill, Caliban.” I told him as I rolled my eyes at him.
“Woah, easy there Princess. Let’s not argue please. Now we don’t have much time but what can you tell me about the location of where Judas Iscariot might be located.” Caliban crossed his arms and looked at me in a serious way.
“According to the Dark Lord, we have to go to the Ninth Circle, the hottest in Hell. There’s a volcanic cave and there we’ll find the three worst betrayers. From there we’ll be able to find Judas Iscariot.”
“That sounds pretty vague from him Princess. But I’m sure we’ll be able to find him.”
“Let’s go now before we get caught by anyone.” I said to him as I waited for him to get up from his seat. We then quickly teleported ourselves to the Ninth Circle. The cave was spooky and pretty dark. I produced a light of blue fire to guide us the way to where Judas Iscariot might be hiding.While Caliban and I were walking, apparently I wasn’t watching where I was going and I almost fell. Then I felt 2 strong arms reach for my waist and helped me back up. Caliban had his hands on my shoulders and looked at me to see if I had any minor injuries at all.
“Cal, I’m okay. I’m fine, I just wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m not hurt at all.” I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze , letting him know that I was alright.
“You gave me a fright and luckily I was right behind you or something terrible would have happened. But I’m glad that you’re alright, my Queen. I’m not letting you out of my sight so we’re going to be holding hands for awhile.” As he said this, he immediately grabbed my hand and gave me his devilish grin again.
“Fine, whatever you say. Let’s continue on with the challenge please.” I gave him a huff but my heart was palpitating so fast on what just occurred. Every time Caliban does something for me, I feel something stirring inside me. But I need to focus if I want to win this.
Eventually me and Caliban finally reached the location on where Judas was located. I told Caliban to stay behind me since I’m thinking something might happened. I walked to where the stoned face of Judas was at.
“Judas Iscariot.” I announced it to him.
“Who is that?” He whispered slowly to me.
“I am Sabrina Morningstar, daughter of Lucifer Morningstar.”
[Judas coughs]
“He himself put me here.” Judas explained to us.
“I’ve come to ask you, Judas, where are the 30 pieces of silver you were paid to betray the Nazarene?”
“What will you give me to tell you the secret of their location?” Of course there would be a catch with this guy. Not making my job any easier at all.
I turned the flame into a circle of fresh water.
“Water. The taste of cold water on your lips. What say you, Judas? Tell me how to get the pieces of silver, and it’s yours.” Hopefully this will convince him to tell me their location.
“There is an easy way, in which the silver simply appears to you. And a harder way, in which you must seek it out.”
“For once, let’s go with what’s easy.”
“All you need to do is betray someone you love with a kiss, as I did.” Yeah not sure, if that’s gonna happen buddy.
I gave him a huge sigh. “Just one kiss and the silver appears to me?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be right back.” I told Judas.
I turned around and motioned for Caliban to follow me out of the cave section. Once we were out of hearing distance from Judas, I can finally take a breath of air. Caliban was in his usual stance and had his arms firmly crossed over his chest.
“I’m not sure if I want to go the easy way Cal. I think I should go the harder way, what do you think?”
“I think the harder way should work. And we’ll be in this together, it shouldn’t be that complicated right. The sooner we get the coins, the closer we are to the throne.”
“I like the way you think. Okay, we should go back before we lose any more time on this.” As we were walking back to the cave, I felt Caliban’s hand clasped into mine and he gave me a hand kiss. Ohhhhh Mr. Romantic over here. I stood back at my position in front of Judas’ headstone.
“Well, that didn’t work. So tell me, Judas.. What’s the hard way?” I questioned him.
“Are you familiar with the Field of Blood?”
“Just that it’s a burial ground.” I think.
“My silver is buried in a crypt with the first vampire, deep beneath the Field of Blood.” Judas explained.
“Okay, if you tell me I’m about to meet Dracula --” I heard Caliban snickering at me in the background.
Judas answered, “His name is Vlad the Impaler.”
“Vlad the Impaler? But he’s.. He’s dead right? ” I told him confused.
“Yes. The pieces are in a bag at his side. Count them to be sure that they’re all there.” “Copy. How do I get to his tomb?” Hopefully it won’t be that complicated to get there.
“You open a portal. I can tell you the words, but first.. Give me my water.”
I gave Judas’ his water and in turn he told me the directions on how to get to Vlad the Impaler’s crypt. After getting the directions, both me and Caliban went to the tomb to find Vlad. The tomb was abandoned and there were candles that were lit on top of it. Caliban told me, he was gonna check out the perimeter in case something happened. I told him we should meet back at the entrance after I got the bag of silver. I grabbed the bag of silver from the skeleton’s hands and put it away for safekeeping. I then walked away from the tomb and began to count the pieces of silver.
I was too busy counting the coins, that I did not realize that something was after me. Unbeknownst to me, Caliban was walking back to the main entrance and saw that Vlad the Impaler was about to attack me. Caliban set Vlad the Impaler on fire and gave a huge shout. I turned around and saw that Caliban took care of Vlad and was indisposed of.
“Next time, watch your surroundings here Princess.”
“At least I have you by my side. Thank you again for saving me and now we should head on back to the headstones.”
“As you wish, my Queen. Let’s hurry!”
Caliban and I both left the tomb and teleported our way back to where Judas & the betrayers headstones were at. Gave him the okay that we got the coins and immediately headed back to Pandemonium. Before we went through the doors, I told Caliban to put on a glamour so no one would recognize him. He went ahead first so he could blend into the crowd.
I opened the doors and walked to the main floor of Pandemonium.
“The challenge has been won. The final item of the Unholy Regalia is mine.” I announced loudly to everyone in the vicinity. The entire audience gasped in shock at what had occurred.
“And Prince Caliban is stone-cold dead.” Even though he’s hiding in a glamour, jk to everyone else.
“Congratulations, daughter. You bring honor to your house. It is time, once again, for your coronation. Are you at last ready?” The Dark Lord asked of me.
“I am ready, Father, to be married to Hell.” I gave him a fake smile.
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An Ending Within--Ch. 2
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Chapter 2
           “Are you sure about this?” Hunter said ruefully. He looked at me with hopeful eyes, even though his face bore the truth of my departure.
           I nodded, trying hard to push away my guilt. Hunter had been wonderful—he’d taken me into NXT and trained me to be everything that I’d become. He’d been a mentor and a friend. An amazing teacher that I truly didn’t deserve. “I’m sorry,” I replied.
           He rounded his desk and wrapped me in a warm, familiar hug. “We don’t want you to go. I wish I could talk you into staying, but I know Seth and Roman have already tried. I know Stef has tried.”
           “You know that I owe you all of this, don’t you? I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”
           He chuckled. “You earned all of it, Llane. Every single step of this was you.”
           My heart broke just a little. “So is this goodbye?” I knew what happened when people left the company. More often than not, they were pushed to the alumni records and treated as if they hardly existed.
           And if they went to another company…
           … it was like they died.
           Or became the enemy.
           Sadness flickered in his eyes. He sighed as he gave me one final squeeze. “No. It’s never goodbye, Llane. Not for you.”
           My eyes burned. I was sure I was about to burst into tears. Whatever Hunter said, there would never be another moment like this. Not for me
           “Thank you for everything, Hunter,” I murmured, sure that I would never talk to my mentor like this again.
***
           We sat together in catering—Alexa, Becky, Renee, and I—talking. There was an ache in my chest like my heart was shattering. These women were my friends. They had welcomed me into the company, into this family and given me a brand-new type of family. Alexa had been my most dedicated cheerleader. Becky and I had gotten on the moment they put us into the ring together. And Renee… she was my dearest friend and my strongest link to Dean since his departure.
           “How’d he take it?” Alexa queried, picking at the grilled chicken on her plate.
           I sighed, leaning b ack and rubbing my eyes. “It probably would’ve gone better if I’d told him before the dirt sheets ran it.”
           “Shite,” Becky said, dropping her fork onto her plate.
           “Yeah,” I groaned. “And of course, no matter what I said, he couldn’t get past the idea that my not being happy here anymore might have had the slightest thing to do with Dean leaving. I swear, he’d rather me spend the rest of my life at home with Sefina than go wrestle with Dean again. Not that I don’t love my daughter and every second I with her.”
           Renee looked at me sadly. “I thought he’d gotten over all of that?”
           “When the four of us were together, it was all good. But as soon as Dean left… I swear Seth lost it. And even though it’s like this now…” I leaned forward and rested my elbows on the table, covering my face with my hands. “God, it’s going to be a shit-show when I tell him that I’ve got a meeting with Cody.”
           “Does Dean know?” Renee asked quietly.
           I sighed. “Yeah. He’s the one who helped set the whole thing up.”
           Becky reached across the table and put her arms around me. “Ya know, love. Nothin’s gonna change wit’ us. Ya still one o’ us.”
           I sniffed and hugged her hard. “Everything’s falling apart, Becks. I feel like I’m either going to lose Seth or I’m going to lose this life that I’ve worked so hard for.”
           “Don’t you dare give up,” Alexa said sternly.
           “Seth is never going to agree to this. It’s one thing if I leave the company and be a stay-at-home mom or help Marek run Black and Brave or manage the coffee shop. It’s something else entirely if I go to another company. A competing company.”
           “Dean’s company,” Renee added.
           “Yeah.”
***
           “Colby, can we talk,” I said calmly, the two of us standing side by side as we put dishes into the dishwasher. Sefina sat in her highchair not far away, playing with a teething ring. I smiled as I walked past her, reaching out to tickle her beneath her chin.
           Seth dried his hands on a towel and sank onto a chair. My eyes went to the glint of his wedding band. I twisted my own nervously as I took the seat nearby. The silence stretched out, filled only by the sound of the swishing of water in the background.
           After a while, he reached out, enclosed his fingers around mine. “How did your meeting with Hunter go?”
           I smiled, a painful happiness. “He tried to get me to stay.”
           “Did it work?”
           “No.”
           Seth went quiet again, almost as if his last gamble had gone sour. “Who are you dropping to?”
           I looked away, feeling like the conversation had already gotten out of my control. “Becks.”
           He squeezed my palm, and I was thrown back to the first time I felt his fingers in mine. When there was a moment when I wondered what exactly there was between us, if whatever it was would turn into something. Those early days had been terrifying and exhilarating. Not just in the ring, but in the quiet moments in the back of that worn SUV driving from city to city.
           “Marek and I were throwing around some ideas,” Seth said, twisting the conversation entirely out of my control. “We’d like to open up a class of just women. And now that you’re going to be around the school more often, we thought now would be a good time to—”
           “I have a meeting with Cody Rhodes,” I said bluntly. “About a contract with AEW.”
           Seth stopped, his mouth hanging open. His fingers flexed against mine when the words seemed to make sense. A lump formed in my throat. Terror that he wanted to let go.
           “Does Dean know?” he asked, his voice tight.
           I blinked, feeling my jaw clench at the storm I knew was coming. My gaze flicked to our daughter. When I looked back at Seth, I tightened my hold on his hand, begging him to keep himself together in front of our little girl.
           “Yes,” I replied. “But this was my idea. Not his. And I need you to understand that I need to do this. For me.”
           We looked at one another for a long while, not entirely sure what to say. “It isn’t about going to another company, Colby. It isn’t about Dean. I love this business as much as you do, but I can’t do it with WWE anymore. All I’m doing is talking to Cody. I’m not signing anything. That’s not a decision I’ll make without talking to you.”
           He leaned back, his fingers coming undone from mine. My heart ached, shattered into jagged pieces. I felt them slice into my limbs as the shards pushed out of my body.
           “Like when you decided to leave the company?”
           I sighed. I wasn’t going to fight. Not in front of Sefina and not over something that was done and over with. My hands cupped together on the table, wishing that I didn’t feel like my husband was a thousand miles away.
           “That’s done, Colby. I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you before it came out, but I need for us to move on.” Vertigo slipped in. I thought for a moment that I was going to be sick. That I was going to pass out. “I need you to support me. I don’t expect you to like every decision I make, but I do need you to be behind me.”
           He leaned his forearms on the table. The tips of our fingers touched. “You’re right. I don’t like this, Llane. I don’t want you to leave. And I can’t help that I’m jealous that you’re choosing to follow Dean rather than stay with me.”
           Fingers inched closer. I blinked back tears as I met his gaze. “I’m not choosing Dean over you. I never have and I never will.” Guilt and frustration churned in my stomach. I wanted to scream at him to stop putting Dean in the middle of our relationship. “I need to do this. For me.”
           Seth covered my hands with his. “We’ll be apart more than we’re together.”
           “They only compete one day a week. Appearances and other stuff are minimal.” I glanced at Sefina, smiled at her toothy baby grin. “We can travel with you. We can be a family and raise her together… rather than having Holly take care of her three days out of the week. And if you want, I can talk to Marek about the women’s class. This is something we can do together, Colby.”
           He was quiet for a moment. Then he stood and pulled me up into his arms. He hugged me tightly, enclosing me in his arms until I could barely breathe. “I almost lost you once, Sophie. I can’t do it again.”
           “You aren’t losing me.” I squeezed him back, my arms around his waist. “You’ll never lose me.”
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magaprima · 5 years
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Part 2 Episode 5 Thoughts (Part 4 of 4)
After the dinner scene and the kiss, the next time we see Lilith is in the middle of the night, and the only light on in the house is coming from the upstairs bedroom, thus telling us immediately that’s where Lilith and Adam are. We then see Lilith coming downstairs, dressed in a nightgown now, not her green one, but a burgundy one, one less ‘I am a demoness who is going to eat you whole and spit out the bones’ and more ‘I am a sensual woman who likes silks’, which again reveals to us about Lilith’s mindset.
She says ‘I’ll be right back, my love’ and both the words and the way she says them are very telling. For one, she calls him ‘my love’, which she never has before. We’ve heard her call him ‘Adam, dear’ as a Mary affectation but that’s about it. But ‘my love’ is very personal, very intimate, and very much openly reveals how Lilith feels about him. As I said in the last post, his words, his consideration, his respect and promises as well as the consensual kiss, were the moment she fell in love with him. And the way she says it here, she sounds like she’s on a restful cloud 9. She’s at peace, she sounds dreamy and she’s strolling casually like someone in love. She’s in no rush for the water, no rush for anything, she’s content and happy here and it stands out for the fact we’ve never seen her like this before and we haven’t see her like this since, which is tragic.
This all very post-coital, the pace she moves, the way she speaks, what she’s wearing, the fact she’s come from the bedroom, the words she uses, all of it says she and Adam have just consummated their relationship (especially as Adam learned ‘Mary’ was no longer waiting for marriage). This is such a sensual moment in a peaceful, domestic way and it’s all the more touching for the fact Lilith has never had this.
And the Dark Lord arrives and ruins it all (his timing of just showing up....does that mean he just watched them have sex? Probably, the perv)
The way Lilith’s mood flips in a nanosecond, she goes from smiling and content, to absolute fear and panic on her face, turning around so quickly in horror that she smashes the glass of water she’d just poured on the ground. Her fear and kneejerk reaction to his arrival is so instinctual and so visceral, that all her happiness has vanished in a single moment by his mere arrival.
She tries to gather herself in that moment., acknowledging him with his name, but she is so thrown. She looks not like a demoness who has been by his side for millennia, but a witch who didn’t expect the arrival and fears what it means. It’s almost a parallel to Zelda’s vibe and fear when he arrives before her wedding. Whereas arrival of the Dark Lord in the past with Lilith has always been expected, welcome or even outright summoned, here we definitely feel it’s an invasion and one Lilith doesn’t want. 
‘The temple has yet to fall. The mortal is a distraction. Get rid of him, Lilith’
Okay, firstly, Adam’s presence has nothing to do with how slow the temple falling is going. Lilith has done her bit, now Sabrina has to do hers, and Sabrina is apparently so self-involved she hasn’t even noticed Ms Wardwell has a boyfriend in the house. But whatever. So this was clearly such a flimsy reason for him to command Lilith to get rid of Adam, and I have to wonder why he gave a reason at all. Why not just ‘I don’t like him, get rid of him’. And then that ties back to other posts I’ve made about Lilith saying their relationship is co-dependency, and how Lucifer needs Lilith much more than he realises or will ever admit. He wants rid of Adam because Adam means she’s not focusing on Lucifer. And that’s literally the it. And he does sort of admit that, to an extent, when he says ‘you belong to me and only me’, but it’s him qualifying by viewing Lilith as a possession, something he has ownership of and the right to command. 
Lilith quickly says ‘of course’, agreeing, and the breathless fear is still in her voice, but you can see in her expression that, as ever, she’s calculating and planning ahead. Lilith’s very character, her entire origin story, is about not being told what to do, and her entire instinct is defiance. But we know she suppresses that out of survival in the presence of the Dark Lord. The fact that her feelings for Adam are so strong that she breaks that survivalist rule and starts immediately planning how not to get rid of him, speaks volumes. 
And now onto the ring. I’ve talked in the past about how Lilith is very, very powerful and people seem to forget that, and this ring is evidence of that power. An engraved ring, with her own spell spoken over it, is enough to entirely hide Adam from the Dark Lord. She can HIDE SOMEONE FROM THE SIGHT OF LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR. Like that’s extremely powerful. Remember in the Part 2 finale when the Spellmans were trying to find a way to hide Sabrina and all Ambrose came up with was a spell where she’d have to be constantly moving?  Nope, no such crazy for Lilith. She can obscure someone with just a freaking ring. The only reason the spell didn’t work is that Stolas spied on her and then betrayed her to Lucifer (so I figure the spell works like that one in Harry Potter, where you can’t see the thing, unless one of the keyholders tells you where it is? Like Grimmauld Place?)
“Yes, but if I don’t protect the mortal, Stolas, I won’t get to play with him any longer, and I have grown rather fond of him”
Her reasoning to Stolas is an attempt to downplay her feelings, talking about playing with him, and only saying ‘fond’ (a word she uses in Part 3 which I personally feel is Lilith’s go-to word when she’s afraid to say love. So if she’s ‘fond’ of something, she freaking loves it) but that downplaying is disproven by the word ‘protect’. She’s not hiding Adam, she’s not keeping him, she’s not obscuring him or secreting him away, she’s protecting him. She’s keeping him safe. And that’s a big fucking deal for Lilith.
But of course Stolas, presumably, points out the Dark Lord wanted her to kill him and Lilith snaps, getting quite angry here, which again shows her true feelings.
“Oh relax. What the Dark Lord doesn’t know won’t hurt him”
Yet, the moment Adam comes back in, her entire ‘tough facade’ fades, and she’s suddenly wide eyed and concerned and she literally runs over to him, grabbing Adam by the hands and pulling him closer, almost as if she feels he’s less at risk of being found if he’s close to her. She is so desperately determined to keep him safe and that’s heartbreaking. 
“I’d like you to wear this ring, but you must never ever take it off”
Not only is she insistent here, with her emphasis on ever, because she knows the moment he takes it off he’ll be in danger (omg is that what happened with Stolas? Maybe it doesn’t work like the Grimmauld Place spell, maybe Stolas pulled the fucking ring off???? I mean Adam already got the vibe the bird didn’t like him), but it’s the breathless urgency she speaks with. She’s wide-eyed and worried, she needs this to work, she needs him to be safe, Lilith is all in at this point and it shows that she does really have this huge capacity for love (after all she was created human originally).
“Of course, Mary, but what does this mean” He agrees without question but is so bloody confused, like last night we said no marriage and now you’re giving me a ring to never take off....what is happening here?
And then LILITH SHOVES THE RING ON HIM. She doesn’t wait for him to take it and put it on, that’s taking too long, it has too much risk, and so she puts it on him, and that gives us nice marriage visual, of how one partner puts the ring on the other during the ceremony, and considering her first and only ‘husband’ was the Adam in the Garden, it’s a nice contrast to her willingly engaging in something akin to marriage with another Adam, one who respects her and appreciates her, reminding us that that was the only reason Lilith ended up on this path to Hell and demoness-hood. She just wanted to be treated equally and with respect. So much would have been different for her origin story if the first Adam had been like Adam 2.0. Perhaps someone like Adam 2.0 would have defied the False God with her, refused his laws of ‘women are less’ and left with Lilith. Perhaps they would have been witches together, or simply free together, who knows. My point is, a little respect means Lilith might have been saved so much pain and suffering. 
“It means we’re setting a date. But only if you swear to me, you’ll never take it off” She’s so vehemently insistent. Her fear and her concern for him is making her so vehement in her instructions that he keep the ring on. 
AND THEN HE FREAKING PICKS HER UP IN THE CUTEST MOMENT I HAVE EVER SEEN. Made all the cuter by Lilith’s little gasp of delighted surprise. Adam  is picking up the MOTHER OF DEMONS and he has no idea. Like no one has ever gotten to be that intimate or carefree or sweet with Lilith, he’s allowed to be so close to her, to entirely get under those walls she’s built up and it’s beautiful. This is such a cute moment and again shows us the happiness Lilith might have had, the suffering she might have avoided in an alternate reality. 
When he puts her down, declaring he loves her, Lilith instinctively kisses him. SHE kisses HIM. He initiates it mostly, but she moves inwards too, meeting him half way without encouragement and she does it without thinking, it’s instinctual, she kisses him. And then she realises what she’s just done and you see she’s surprised by it-- she doesn’t kiss mortal men, she doesn’t have happy intimacy with mortal men, but here she has, without a second thought. It’s natural and comfortable to her, and she looks so cute and happy and delighted by this realisation. LOOK AT HER
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Skull and Shackles Chapter 2
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As the Wormwood crew gathers around for the show, Mr. Plugg struts over towards the group, ever the showman it seems.
         “Everyone 'ere be to complete a couple o' tests. The first one be to see who 'ere be comfortable with rope. The first two to get to the top be workin' with the riggin'. Ready? no? well, that be a shame, get to it!” cracking the cat-o’-nine-tails, the crowd jeering. Everyone scrambles to the rope, everyone except Hau'ri, the Va’al just watched as the others rushed. “An' what do ye think ye be doing? get to climbing, ye overgrown bilge rat!” Hau’ri cackled to himself quietly and stood up straight to show off his impressive 7 foot height. 
         “Now, you know as well as I that there’s no way that I’m going to climb. Best waste your breath on something more productive.” A cold smile showing his tusks and fangs.
Meanwhile, the others were racing to the top. Gumqu surpassed everyone with alarming speed, clearing 15 feet in a matter of moments. Surprisingly, the foppish gnome was close behind, scurrying up not unlike a sequenced squirrel that spotted a rather large acorn. Following him was Ausk, a rather comical picture that really shouldn’t make sense and yet he’s trapezing up the rope. Mordren limbered up as well, bird’s feet clinging well to the rope to secure support. Anne barely climbed up 10 feet with considerable effort, the rope starting to dig into her hands. Skender however fell after 8 feet back to the bottom, causing the crew to loudly heckle and laugh at his misfortune. Luckily, Mr. Plugg was too focused on the rebellious Va’al to add insult to injury.
Skender adamantly plucked himself up and futility attempted again with a delayed start, it’s only 60 feet. Gumqu reached for some rigging only to drop 5 feet, the line loose and a false grip. This allowed Mordren and Anne to close the gap, Ausk was losing steam. What started with an impressive show of gymnastics is slowly showing a sign of limited endurance. The muscular halfing passing him, muttering curses as she’s sweating in the tropical sun. The red head also passing him, muttering an apology as she crossed in front of him to get a better path. 
Gumqu caught herself and once again advanced with incredible agility, resembling more jungle cat than house cat in ability. The end now in sight, just a bit further now. Mordren is pushing through, surprising herself at the advancement that she is making. Anne is neck in neck with the red head, she swears to the waves that she has met her before, but from where? The halfing is gasping as she curiosly looked up to see who is ahead.
         “NOW HOW IN ALL THE BLAZING HELLS DID THE BLOODY GNOME GET UP FRONT?!” She shouted in frustration. Ausk, poor guy, hasn’t moved much from his previous position, out of breath and out of care. Skender actually passed him as well.
         “Come on, might as well keep going up. Just don’t look down” Ausk groaned, doing just that and feeling even greener than normal in sick. Climbing up this high was not such a good idea. Luckily he didn’t have to ponder on it much longer, a sharp whistle had blown. Looking up, Ausk could faintly see the catfolk and a shimmer of mauve at the very top in the crow’s nest. There was a vague call back down, where Hau’ri was still spitting venom against Mr. Plugg. The first mate had whipped the Va’al for disobedience only for him to laugh in turn as the angry marks start to heal. Before he pushes too far, Hau’ri points up. Mr. Plugg squints up to see that find that his first test had been completed.
         “Master Plugg, Sir. We can keep these two landlubbers up 'ere in the riggin'.” The man growled an affirmative.
         “Alright, all o' ye that there did nay make the cut, get yer 'ides down 'ere! Next test!” Not before administering Hau’ri 6 lashes. Hau’ri snarls in retaliation, however, doesn’t press forward. Sure, he could attempt to take on everyone but that would just leave him alone on the ship. Not ideal. His right ear twitched as the others clambered down from on high, blood cooling in the breeze. Once again, the group convened into a line, the tiefling to his right and the human male with the blue head scarf to his left. Mr. Plugg huffs in agitation. Stepping forward, he begins at the far mostright, starting with the halfling.
         “Can ye cook?”, the halfling snorted a no, agitated from the previous test. He moves on to Ausk, who is gasping for air.
         “Can ye cook?” Ausk laughs good-naturedly and replies that he can boil water. Mr. Plugg sniffs in disgust before moving on. Next in line was Skender.
         “Before you ask, no I can’t cook. Nothing but rice and leek.” The half-elf huffed. Feeling his brain cells dropping the longer he’s on this ship.
         “Watch yer tongue lad. least ye want a demonstration o' the sweat box.” Seeing the alchemist slightly cowed was enough appeasement before moving down the line, reaching Anne.
         “Can ye cook?”
         “My husband was the one who cooked.” Mr. Pluug’s eyebrows rose a bit but made no comment. Moving further down the line and asking the other two humans before reaching Hau’ri. The Va’al smirking down at the first mate. Mr. Plugg doesn’t ask him, might poison the pot while no one’s looking. Probably wouldn’t even fit in the kitchens. This left only Mordren last in line. He gawks at her for a bit before asking the question.
         “Yes. I can cook.” Her arms crossed with her left draconic arm covering her right.
         “Then th' cook's mate ye shall be, good ole Ambrose Kroop will be waitin' fer ye in th' galley. Th' rest o' ye will be swabs, get t' work!” Mordren was escorted towards the galleys with a backward glance to her group. 
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echo-goes-mmm · 9 months
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Ambrose and Elliot Extra #2
Masterpost
Ambrose + The Five Stages of Grief
Denial
Ambrose woke up to find the bed cold. It wasn’t unusual to find his husband gone in the morning, but Janus always told him when he had work to do. 
He yawned and stretched. Jay probably just forgot.
Sunlight filtered through the high windows, the chimes on the balcony gently singing. It was a beautiful morning.
He watered the plants and made himself a cup of tea in the kitchen. It was quiet for now; soon the streets would be full of people. Maybe he’d go to the markets today. He could definitely go for some street food.
Ambrose began to worry when evening came without a word from his husband. He lit the lanterns and cracked open a book to wait for him, but he couldn’t get into it.
Are you coming home tonight? He asked out into the night, but Janus didn’t answer.
He bit his lip.
Jay would be home at some point, he decided. It was probably an emergency. He had godly duties to perform, after all. Ambrose would simply be patient.
He blew out the lantern and went to bed.
___________________
Bargaining
Months went by with no sign of him. Ambrose couldn’t understand it. He’d never been gone so long.
Did he do something wrong? He played the memories of the last night he saw Janus over and over in his mind.
They had dinner together, went on a walk, enjoyed some soft sex. Completely normal.
He began to pray daily.
Where are you? Are you coming back?
Please come back. I love you.
I made that dish you like today. Thinking of you.
He even made an altar, bought some incense in Janus’s favored scent. Don’t forget about me. Please.
Ambrose made sure the house was spotless. He cleaned all the clothes Janus had left, stocked the kitchen with his favorite treats.
Janus loved him. Janus loved him. 
Maybe he hadn’t loved him back enough.
If, no when, Jay came back, he’d be the best husband anyone could want.
___________________
Anger
The silence wore on him.
He distracted himself, a bit spitefully, with tickets to plays Janus liked. If he wasn’t going to enjoy them, Ambrose would go by himself.
He got a kitten, who he named CATherine, a pun that Janus would roll his eyes at fondly. They talked about getting a cat, and served the bastard right to miss the adorable kitten phase.
Frustration began to mount, bleeding into everything. He let Jay’s rose bush die, and then immediately felt guilty. He avoided even seeing the temple in the distance, shuttering windows that faced the tall towers. 
He didn’t pray at all anymore. 
One day, it all became too much. In a fit of rage he kicked over the new altar and smashed Janus’s flower vase against the wall, tears blurring his vision. 
He would have left the mess, but Catherine could hurt herself.
He tossed the shards of the vase in the trash, and didn’t bother buying a replacement. He only picked up the remains of the altar because Catherine mewed at him, disappointed in his tantrum.
Janus better have a damn good explanation for a year of absence.
___________________
Depression
It was when Catherine got sick and passed away that he realized maybe he was the issue. 
Janus was a god, powerful and handsome, and Ambrose couldn’t keep his cat alive.
Jay had probably met his match and decided Ambrose wasn’t worth it anymore. What could he possibly bring to the table that Janus couldn’t get elsewhere?
He stared at the wedding ring in his palm. 
Forever was engraved into the gold.
Yeah, right. Forever.
It had been twelve years, and not a word. Nothing.
He didn’t go out anymore. Kept the windows closed. He hadn’t showered in days, and most of the time he couldn't get out of bed. Couldn’t bring himself to face the world.
It was his birthday tomorrow. He’d be a hundred, and still didn’t look a day over twenty-five.
He couldn’t bring himself to care.
___________________
Acceptance
Janus wasn’t coming back. Maybe he wasn’t coming back, ever. 
Ambrose still loved him, but he couldn’t stay in their home. Too many painful memories. Nearly seventy years of marriage was tied up in it, not counting the years since his disappearance.
He had bought a plot of land in a small village across the country, and commissioned a building. A change of pace would be good, and a quaint inn in the countryside was the exact opposite of his luxurious house in the capital. 
___________________
He sold the house for a small fortune as soon as the inn was finished, packed the few items he hadn’t gotten rid off, and headed west. 
Ambrose was sweeping the front step when the woman approached him. He hadn’t yet met anyone in town, but his presence had caused a bit of a stir.
“Good afternoon,” he greeted her as she came up to him. She was an older woman, with wisps of gray in her hair. A little girl followed behind her.
“Good to know you city boys got some manners.” He was caught off guard for a moment, but her easy smile told him she was teasing.
“I’m Dora, and this is my granddaughter, Judy. Say hello, Judy.” Judy hid behind her grandmother, and Ambrose couldn’t help but smile.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Judy. I’m Ambrose. Would you like to come in for some tea?”
Judy mumbled something behind Dora’s skirt.
“Speak up, hun,” encouraged Dora.
“My granny says you should come to lunch cause you’re a stranger. And she says strangers make good friends.” Ambrose snorted. 
“Well I can’t say no to such a lovely invitation, now can I?”
___________________
“So, Ambrose, what brings you to our sleepy little town? It can’t be the good business; an inn won’t make much here.”
Ambrose fidgeted with the napkin. The money wasn't an issue. His bank account grew without him these days, faster than he could spend it.
“Just needed a change. My husband left, and the empty house wasn’t kind to me.”
Dora nodded in sympathy. “My Charles, gods rest his soul, passed years ago.” She took his hand in his. “It’ll get better.” He needed the advice, even if it was a decade late.
“Thank you, Ms. Dora.”
“None of that, hun, just Dora.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He had a good feeling about this.
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frizz22 · 5 years
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Prompt?: an Ambrose and Zelda moment of moments? I feel like all of the spellmans have had a moment but those two. I like to imagine that though Hilda was very nurturing and spent time with him to help him, it’s my headcannon that Zelda taught him different things to help him be less bored like dancing or she regularly helps him learn a new language and tells him about the places she’s been when he was imprisoned in the house
3 for 1! I got prompts from @littlest-moon-girl, @littlesparrow1 and an anon that I figured I could combine. Hope you enjoy! Read on ao3
1. In 1943, the 2nd world war is raging on and slowly all the Spellmans are gathering back in the safety of Greendale. Then Edward comes back with Ambrose in tow, house arrested. It's quite a change for him to have someone looking after him and quite a change for the siblings to not be on their own anymore. 
2. Something where Zee is being maternal or comforting Ambrose or them bonding in some way? 
Ambrose knew, on some level, that he was lucky. That his sentencing could have been far more severe than a century and a half of house arrest. As his Uncle Edward was only too happy to remind him of as they traveled through Europe on their way to collect his Aunt Zelda in London.
When they arrived at Auntie Zee’s, she smiled at him.
“Hello sweetheart,” she greeted warmly, bringing Ambrose into a tight hug and holding on a beat longer than she normally would have. “How’re you doing?”
He shrugged. “Alright, I suppose.” Ambrose mumbled, looking down to avoid her eyes.
Uncle Edward scoffed. “He has no reason or right to complain. The felon.” And there it was again, the label, thrown into his face with such a acidic tone it could burn… as it had periodically throughout their trip here. 
Ignoring her brother, Zelda pulled back and framed Ambrose’s face, giving him a once over. “Well, ‘alright’ is all that can be expected, given the circumstances.” She placed a hand under his chin and brought it up gently, so he met her eyes once more. “You’re safe and with us, that’s what matters.”
The comment wrangled a smile from Ambrose. It alluded to his luck in his sentencing, but unlike Uncle Edward, his Aunt Zelda was focusing on him, his safety and well-being and was merely glad he hadn’t been tortured or sentenced to worse. He nodded, but before he could respond, Edward cut in once more.
“Why is nothing packed?” He demanded, striding around Zelda’s flat.
Arching a brow, Zelda released Ambrose and moved to the kitchen to take a now whistling tea kettle off the stove. “Because I’m not going with you.” She informed them calmly, handing Ambrose a cup of tea and he smiled after his first sip, she’d remembered his favorite kind.
Groaning, Edward speared a hand through his hair. “Zelda, the mortals are waging another war! Germany has been bombing Britain for a good three years now.”
“And yet my building is unaffected. My entire block, as a matter of fact.” She remarked, waving a hand to indicate the lack of damage. “Why do you think that is?”
Ambrose ducked his head, hiding a smile behind his cup. Zelda was the only one he knew that defied his uncle to blatantly. And he loved it.
Mouth gaping for a moment. Edward regained himself. “Zelda, the mortals—"
Sighing, Zelda set the kettle down and placed a hand on her hip. “Waged one war and are now waging another. Likely there’ll be another after this. It’s their nature, brother. Why should I uproot my life every time a group of them gets violent on a larger scale?” She gave him a look and then turned to rummage through a cupboard, emerging with a box of cookies. Zelda offered him one with a wink, clearly aware she was pushing Edward’s buttons and loving it.
It made Ambrose snort as he took a cookie and he had to cover it with a cough. If only he could be so defiant, if only he weren’t going to be trapped in his uncle’s childhood home for almost two centuries. But he was going to be stuck, and so Ambrose held his tongue, knowing Edward could make his sentence worse if he wanted.
But for now, his uncle was focused on his sister. Frowning and shaking his head hard, Edward paced the room. “No. This isn’t like the others, Zee. Germany is doing awful things. We must get out. We’re going back to Greendale, all of us. Hilda is already home and we’ll meet her there.”
“Lovely for Hilda.” Zelda intoned sarcastically, crossing her arms and leaning against a counter. “Poor Ambrose here, he has to go with his high priest uncle, he doesn’t have a choice; but I do. I am not going back to Greendale.”
Closing the distance between them, Edward stood toe to toe with Zelda, using his height to tower over her. “You will even if I have to force you.” He gritted out through clenched teeth.
A scoff escaped his aunt, and Ambrose’s eyes widened as he took a few steps back sensing what was about to come.
“I’d like to see you try.” She muttered, giving her brother a once over.
Running his tongue over his teeth, Edward sneered. “I’ll paint a magical target over this neighborhood if you don’t come. Your building will remain untouched, but the rest…” He trailed off, letting the two of them picture the carnage. “Think of all the children who would die from the bombings because of your obstinance, Zelda.”
She snarled at him and slapped him so hard across the face that Ambrose winced for his uncle. “That’s low, even for you, Edward.”
His uncle shrugged. “I’ll give you an hour to pack. I have an associate I want to meet with before we leave. I’ll be back soon. Ambrose, stay here.” And with that he teleported away.
Zelda stormed around her home, muttering to herself and waving a hand here and there to pack certain belongings while others fly into a cardboard box by the door. Ambrose knew better than to offer help, and stayed out of the way—sitting on the kitchen counter, drinking tea and munching on cookies.
She finished in thirty minutes, hefted the box into her arms and jerked her head for Ambrose to follow her. He trailed after her down the hall and hung back when Zelda balanced the box on one hip and knocked on a door to another apartment.
A small child answered the door. “Miss Zelda!” She beamed, opening the door wider. “Mama, it’s Miss Zelda! Please come in.”
Zelda beamed and walked inside, Ambrose following her uncertainly. “Claire,” she addressed the only adult in the room. “This is my nephew, Ambrose.” Zelda introduced him as she kissed Claire’s cheeks the best she could with the box in her arms. “He and my brother are here...”
The smile at their presence slipped away. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Claire breathed eyes falling to the box Zelda set on the table as the kids, five by Ambrose’s count, gathered round to peek inside.
“Yes,” Zelda murmured, glancing up at Claire apologetically. “I had hoped to wait it out. But my brother, he lives in North America. He’s making rounds and gathering up all the family and bringing them back to the states. He thinks it’s best.”
Chin trembling, Claire roughly brushed tears away. “Of course, you must do what is best for you. I’m sorry for my reaction. I just, I don’t know how we’ll manage without you.” She said, glancing at Ambrose and coloring at the admission that she needed help.
“Nonsense, you’re a strong woman, Claire. And Charles will be home soon to help with these rascals.” Zelda ruffled the hair of the closest child who giggled. “In the meantime, Amelia is a wonderful help,” his aunt smiled at the eldest girl, who ducked her head at the praise. “I just wanted to bring some things over to you before I left.”
Claire walked over to the table and as she shifted through the box her eyes widened. “Zelda, we can’t possibly take all this,” she gasped.
Smiling sadly, Zelda took Claire’s hands in her own. “You can and you will. My brother is keen on leaving tonight, which means I must pack only the essentials. And besides, his house has most if not all of these. I’d have no use for them. Keep what you want and sell or trade the rest, yes?”
More tears streamed down Claire’s face but she nodded and hugged Zelda hard. When she pulled back, she turned to Ambrose who’d been watching the entire exchange in stunned silence. Amazed his aunt had formed such a close bond with her mortal neighbors. “Your aunt is quite the woman,” she told him, wiping away her tears once more. “
I know,” he replied softly, inclining his head a bit.
Tearful goodbyes were exchanged, safe travels wished. And as Aunt Zelda hugged them all one last time, Ambrose didn’t miss the slight shift in magic in the air as she cast quick protective spells over each of them.
Ambrose led the way back to his aunt’s apartment and once inside Zelda poured them both drinks. “To mourn their loss of freedom,” she toasted bitterly, and Ambrose clinked his glass to hers.
After a moment, Ambrose swirled the whiskey in his glass. “Auntie,” he murmured, not looking at her. Zelda hummed in reply. “Those people—”
“I only helped out a little bit.” Zelda interrupted him, as though worried she’d be accused of more. “Charles, Claire’s husband, was conscripted a few years ago and ever since that woman has been doing everything she can to keep her family together and above water. It was the least I could do.” She added, taking a sip of her drink and sighing deeply.
Lifting a brow, Ambrose turned to her. “You going soft on me, Auntie Zee?”
She playfully shoved his chair away from her at the comment and Ambrose laughed for what felt like the first time since he’d been arrested.
“I got rather close to a mortal, not long ago.” Ambrose shared, unsure why he was telling Zelda. “His name was Harry Houdini, and he had an affinity for mortal stage magic. He was clever, a stunt master and could escape from almost anything. We got on well, I taught him a few things here and there to help him make a name for himself.” Ambrose sighed, wishing his friend was still around. “We can’t help but get attached to a few.” He finished, smiling sadly and taking another drink, knowing the only mortals he’d get attached to in Greendale were the corpses his uncle said he’d be working with in the mortuary.
Aunt Zelda inclined her head in agreement and placed a hand on his arm, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Just don’t tell Edward I grew fond of a few mortals, I’d never hear the end of it.” She intoned, winking at him.
“My lips are sealed auntie,” Ambrose chuckled and topped off their drinks.
Edward appeared in Zelda’s living room then. “Don’t tell me what?” He asked suspiciously, eyeing them.
But the two of them just sat there, bland smiles on their faces and eyebrows raised as though they didn’t know what Edward was talking about. It was petulant, Ambrose knew, but it was nice to have a secret, no matter how ridiculous, with someone right now. Especially considering he’d been denied contact with any of his former friends as part of his sentencing; the judges claiming they couldn’t be sure which of them were co-conspirators and unless he told on the others he couldn’t contact anyone who’d been in his regular contact before the incident.
When they weren’t forthcoming, Edward scowled. “No matter. We leave in five minutes. Finish your drinks.”
Rolling his eyes, Ambrose turned to share a knowing look with Zelda only to find her gazing around her flat with shining eyes; saying mental goodbyes. While Ambrose had blown up his own life, brought this exile to Greendale on himself, Aunt Zelda had been under the impression that she’d get to keep her life here. It was only Uncle Edward’s dirty, underhanded play forcing Zelda into exile with the rest of them.
And as they stood to teleport to their first jumping spot, Zelda’s belongings sent ahead, Ambrose felt a twinge of guilt for being glad Aunt Zelda was coming back with them; that he wouldn’t be alone in feeling that Greendale was a prison.
Taking his aunt’s hand, Ambrose squeezed tight, trying to comfort her and himself about what lay ahead. The tiny squeeze back seconds before they teleported away gave Ambrose hope that this sentence wouldn’t be as bad as he’d been predicting.
~~~~~~~~~
Greendale was torture.
Not that he knew much of the town itself; Ambrose was restricted to an even smaller corner of the world for his sentence, the ancient house that had been in the Spellman name for centuries.
Praise Satan his Aunt Hilda had been at the house for a few days before they arrived, otherwise the building would have barely been habitable.
Uncle Edward did little more than to escort them to the property line before teleporting away, claiming church business. Zelda scoffed and led Ambrose up the winding road towards the house. When they arrived in the front yard, the sky overcast and the surrounding graveyard doing nothing for the dismal atmosphere, Ambrose sighed. He could already feel the boundaries weighing him down, invisible magical manacles binding him to this horrid place. 
Sensing his distress, Zelda wrapped an arm around his shoulders as they trudged up the drive, Hilda appearing on the porch as they got closer.
“Ambrose, love!” She beamed, pulling him out from under Zelda’s arm and into a crushing hug. Despite the depression already starting to swallow him, Ambrose couldn’t help but smile at her infectious cheerfulness.
Pecking Hilda on the cheek, Ambrose greeted her quietly. “Hello, auntie.” He then stepped aside so his aunts could greet one another.
“Zelds!” Hilda breathed, pulling her older sister into a hug. “I was so worried you would stay in London. It’s so dangerous there.”
Aunt Zelda broke the hug with her sister rather quickly. “Yes, well, Edward didn’t give me much of a choice.” She remarked stiffly, eyeing the house in disgust. “I’d rather be in a warzone then back here. Why do you think I didn’t leave until forced?”
A huff escaped Hilda. “Oh, don’t be so melodramatic. It’ll be nice, all of us living together again.” She turned and led the way inside. “Don’t judge it too harshly by it’s cover, Edward has been living the bachelor life and hasn’t properly cared for it. I’m making progress though; the kitchen and the bedrooms are ready to go.”
Eyes sweeping over the foyer, Ambrose’s spirits fell further. This was to be his home? No, he corrected himself, his prison…... How fitting.
~~~~~~~
Days passed and they settled into the house, Ambrose picking the attic for his room despite there being spots on the lower level open. If he was to be stuck in this house for the foreseeable future, he’d need a space that was completely his own.
Not that it mattered right now; it’d only been a few days and he already wanted to climb the walls.
His Aunt Zelda was equally as restless, stalking through the house she hadn’t entered in decades. At least she got to leave; Ambrose begrudged his aunt this ability—and she used it liberally. The first month, aside from the first two days, she was barely in the house. Where she went, what she did or who she saw was anyone’s guess.
It drove his uncle crazy, not knowing. Ambrose started to suspect his uncle would keep them all cooped up in the house if he could; preferring to control what everyone was doing than to let them roam free. But Edward even tried to control Ambrose, who couldn’t roam anywhere.
He’d been laying listlessly in his bed (for the third day in a row), simply staring at the ceiling and trying to picture any European city when his uncle barged in. Ranting about if Ambrose was going to stay under Edward’s roof, he’d live by his rules, and not give into bouts of laziness.
Feeling combative, needing to experience something other than melancholy or nostalgia, Ambrose leveraged off his bed and glared at his uncle. “Surely since the false god condemns laziness our Dark Lord Satan rewards those who partake in it.”
The glib comment earned him a backhand across the face. Stunned, Ambrose cupped his cheek.
“If I am forced to have you here then you will work and make it worth the trouble.” Edward growled, expression darkening.
Anger boiled up inside Ambrose. “If you are forced?!” He exclaimed incredulous, lips twisting. “I’m the one being forced here. And what changes have my presence caused that ‘trouble’ you so, dear uncle.”
Edward took a step closer to him then, face thunderous. “Listen, felon—”  
Before he could go further, the door opened. “Ambrose, sweetheart, you won’t believe what I found…” Zelda trailed off, brow furrowing at their proximity. “Have I interrupted something?” She asked carefully, walking further into the room, her eyes locked on Edward.
“Merely telling our nephew his new place in this world now that he is housebound.” Edward muttered, stepping away but eyes throwing daggers at Ambrose all the same. “Something you need to learn as well, your new place, now that you’re living here again.” He turned his angry glare onto Zelda.
Lifting a brow at her brother’s tone, Zelda came to stand next to Ambrose. “Ambrose has decades to learn where he fits in here, no need to rush it, Edward.” She said, voice clipped. “As for me, you have no more authority over me now than you did when I first left for Europe. You’re not my keeper, brother.” She took Ambrose’s arm, and started to lead him out of the room. “Come, darling, I brought something back for you.”
His uncle blocked the door then. “I am his keeper.” Edward snarled, pointing a finger at Ambrose and he didn’t miss how Zelda stepped partially between him and her brother. “And if I say he needs to earn his place here, then he will.”
Not taking her eyes off her brother, Zelda addressed him. “Ambrose, dear, go downstairs and help Hilda in the kitchen. She’s just brought in a new batch of produce that needs canning.”
“Auntie,” he murmured, not wanting to leave her alone with his uncle.
She squeezed his arm and then released it. “Go on now, earn your keep.” She propelled Ambrose out the door, magic starting to filter into the air.
The door had barely closed behind him, Ambrose only making it down a few steps when the shouting started.
~~~~~~~~~
Over an hour later, Zelda joined him and Hilda in the kitchen, lip split, several bruises forming on her arms and a horrible one spanning her cheek.
Seemingly unperturbed, Zelda breezed in and poured herself a cup of tea. “How’s the garden coming along?” She asked peering at the progress they’d made, carefully taking a sip of tea. Ambrose just gaped at her, horrified. He should have known Edward would get physical, after being struck himself. He never should have left his aunt alone.
Hilda, who’s back was still to her sister, smiled. “Wonderfully, though I must say it took some finagling on my end. Edward let it go into near disrepair as well.” She turned at last and gasped. “Zelda!”
Raising a brow, Zelda looked at her. “Yes?”
Hand over her heart, Hilda took a few deep breathes. “Is Edward in the Cain pit, then?”
A smirk tugged at Zelda’s lips. “Perhaps.” Her expression sobered then, and she looked at Ambrose. “He won’t bother you like that again. Though you do need to start contributing to some work around the house. Whether it’s chores, the mortuary or my midwifery practice… you’ll not linger in bed all day—though Hell knows how this place can make you want to do that.” She nodded at him and turned to the greenhouse.
“The bruise tincture is in the first aid kit by the Venus Fly-Trap in the corner,” Hilda called after her, turning back to canning the remaining food on the table.
Shocked, Ambrose looked between his two aunts for a moment and then pushed away from the table and followed Zelda into the greenhouse, shutting the door behind him.
“Aunt Zelda,” he breathed, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea he’d, that Uncle Edward would…” Ambrose trailed off, unsure how to word it.
Zelda turned back to him, a smile on her lips despite how it must have painfully pull at her bruised cheek. “I did. I knew he was angry, I just incited him into taking it out on me instead.” She then pivoted to dig through the extensive first aid kit she’d found.
He must have made some kind of noise at that, because Zelda face him again, dabbing the tincture on her arms. “You, you knew he’d, he’d…” Ambrose gestured to her bruises, his own face still aching a bit from the blow he’d received—which now proved to be just the tip of his uncle’s rage.
“Of course, I’ve known my brother my whole life, after all. This is hardly the first time we’ve gotten into physical fights. Though he is provoked much more easily these days, which is a bit concerning.” She muttered the last part under her breath. “In any case, better me than you,” she closed the distance between them and cupped his cheek before carefully swiping some of the tincture across it, dulling and then ridding it of the ache.
At a loss for words, Ambrose took the tincture and carefully applied it to his aunt’s cheek in return. “You knew? You weren’t even in the room when he—”
A soft sigh left Zelda and she took his hand between hers. “I knew what your stunned and scared expression meant when I walked in. I won’t stand for it. If he ever comes after you like that again, he shouldn’t not after our ‘conversation’ today, but should he, you protect yourself magically and then summon me immediately. Understand?”
“I’m not going to put you in danger, Auntie Zee. I—”
“You are my nephew. It is my job to protect you,” she cut in vehemently. Then repeated it more softly, “it’s my job.” She leaned in and kissed his forehead. “Now, did I get them all?” She asked casually, referring to her bruises as though she were asking if she got all of a mess or stain off her after a spill.
Unsure what to say, Ambrose nodded. He then hugged Zelda hard, surprising her, but she returned the gesture, running a soothing hand up and down his back. His parents had died when he was younger, and ever since Ambrose had been looking after himself for the most part. So, to have someone suddenly taking over the position as though it were the most natural thing in the world… he just tightened his arms.
As though she’d read his thoughts, Zelda murmured into his ear. “I’ve got you, my dear felon.” And the label fell off her tongue as an endearment and not a curse as it did from Edward’s and Ambrose found he no longer minded it if that was how it was said every time. “Hilda and I, we’ve both got you.” Zelda added, pulling back and framing his face. “Now, I did bring you a present back from my trip, but I think getting you set up as my assistant first is needed.”
Ambrose trailed after her once more as she left the greenhouse and made for the office. “Assistant?”
Glancing at him over her shoulder, Zelda grinned. “Indeed. I can hardly run a midwifery business by myself. And Hilda will be too busy helping deliver babes to do the lab work.” She arched a brow at him as she entered the library and pulled a few books off the shelves. “Think you can handle it?”
A challenge. Exactly what he needed to take his mind off his sentence and the odd and slightly scary dynamic between his aunts and uncle. Nodding eagerly, Ambrose sat down next to his aunt as she began to explain the intricacies of the different tests he would need to learn to run and the various potions she’d need him to master.
~~~~~~~~~~
After the incident with Edward, Zelda never left for such long periods of time again. She claimed it was because she couldn’t get her business off the ground if she were gone all the time… but Ambrose had a feeling she wanted to keep an eye on his uncle as well.
While his Aunt Hilda could diffuse almost any situation, Zelda was there for the few her sister could not; when his uncle felt especially righteous and would not hear a word against his point of view. His aunts were his guardian demons.
During this time, under Zelda’s careful tutelage—Hilda often too busy trying to make the house habitable and more welcoming for clients and Edward clearly seeing himself above teaching Ambrose how to do anything in the mortuary—Ambrose learned not only all about running labs and creating potions for pregnant clients but also how to dissect bodies, how to take body parts for potions without leaving a trace, and how to plan funerals.
It certainly wasn’t the future he’d planned for himself. But it kept him busy if nothing else.
When Zelda did leave, it was only for a few days at a time and only when she was unable to stand living in the same house as her siblings any longer. The three constantly sniped at one another, even Hilda. They hadn’t lived under the same roof in ages, and being back together, especially with Edward telling them what they could and couldn’t do, made things bumpy to say the least.
Ambrose found himself hating it when Aunt Zelda left, though he loved his Aunt Hilda dearly, Zelda was more like him, understood him better. She could pull him out of a depressive state faster than anything with her wry humor and wild stories he was never sure if she exaggerated or not.
So, Ambrose hated it when she left, but Zelda always returned with something for him; books, ancient puzzles, painting materials. He felt half a child, getting so excited about what she might have brought him—but there was so very little for him to look forward to these days, so little contact with the outside world that he shook off the shame and enjoyed what he could.
And Zelda did all she could to help distract him, to help him enjoy the little things.
One morning he woke up to smelting equipment—he’d mentioned wanting to take up the hobby in passing the week before. Another morning he found a box of cannoli and pastries from his favorite bakery in Rome sitting on the breakfast table a few days after commiserating with Zelda about the lack of decent restaurants in Greendale. Ambrose knew better now than to outright acknowledge the gesture, his aunt prickly when it came to that, but he enthused loudly about how wonderful they were, how much he’d missed them and how they’d made his day, no his week!
He glanced at Zelda and caught her smiling behind her paper before she adjusted it to better hide behind.
Not only had his aunt taken to ‘spoiling him’ as his uncle liked to put it, with gifts. She also started inviting her old friends and colleagues over; ones from the academy, ones from overseas, ones of questionable backgrounds that made Edward and Hilda blanche—but Ambrose adored the company and the new topics of conversation. He even became pen pals with a few, going back and forth discussing various shared interests and hobbies. Zelda even encouraged them to bring their younger friends as well, so Ambrose could be around people his own age every now and then.
And Ambrose found that, whenever Zelda was home, he could forget he was housebound. Could forget the weight of only seeing the walls of this house; he could even ignore his uncle’s pious disapproval and condescension.  
The first year of his sentence passed in a blur. And then Aunt Zelda was gone.
Gone for almost two months. Having received a letter one day, she raided the greenhouse and teleported away in such a rush she didn’t tell them what was happening.
Those were dark months. And Ambrose came to the realization that his Auntie Zee had become his best friend and without her, well, life as a housebound felon was far more difficult.
She returned, haggard and thin, during dinner one night, her sudden appearance in the kitchen making Hilda shriek.
“Auntie Zee!” Ambrose exclaimed, shooting out of his chair to steady his aunt and ease her into a chair—he could feel how low her magical levels were, she must have teleported from too far away. “Where were you?”
Before she could answer, Hilda put a potion in front of her. “Drink. Before you pass out in my kitchen.”
Once she’d recovered a bit, Zelda explained that she’d been in London. Hilda gasped, hands flying to cover her mouth—London had been hit very hard by bombs in the past few weeks.  
Her old neighbor, Claire, had written though, stating her oldest daughter Amelia was horribly sick, and she worried for her daughter’s life. Claire had meant nothing more than to put to paper her worries, seeking advice from a friend. She’d been thoroughly surprised when Zelda showed up at her front door, with potions disguised as medicine.
His aunt stayed to ensure the girl would fully recover, and then had been forced to stay longer because of the bombings. Food had been scarce with the rations, Claire and Zelda eating less so the children would have enough, and sleep had been scarcer—the air raid sirens going off almost every night, even if bombs didn’t fall.
Wiping tears from her eyes, Hilda pushed a plate of food in front of her sister. “Oh, Zelds. What an awful risk that was. To go back, to stay so long.”
Ripping a roll of bread in half and stuffing it into her mouth, Zelda shrugged. “I couldn’t let the girl die, Hildie.”
Hilda smiled, “always a soft spot for children, Zelds, always a soft spot.” She glanced at Ambrose as she said this and he ducked his head, a warmth creeping up his neck.
Before either of them could say anything, Edward burst into the room. “And where the bloody Heaven have you been?!” He demanded, though from how his eyes sparked dangerously it was clear he knew she’d been in the warzone he’d dragged her from.
Ambrose sat, stunned, as Zelda rolled her eyes at her brother and continued to eat. “Darling,” she turned to him, “please take your Aunt Hilda out to the garden. Your Uncle Edward and I need to have a word.”
But he’d left before and then seen the damage. Ambrose refused to leave again, especially when Zelda was in such a weakened state.
“No.” He stood and face his uncle, a spike of adrenaline and fear going through him.
Zelda grabbed his arm. “Ambrose, don’t. It’s my job to—”
He placed a hand over hers and held tight, eyes still on his uncle. “No, no it’s not. We’re family. Family looks after one another.” Ambrose stood firm between them, eyeing his uncle; Hilda drifting back over as well, putting another potion in front of Zelda.
The defiance, and an audience, took some of the menace out of Edward’s expression.
A snarl tugged Edwards lips. “Sister, from this moment you are tethered to the house until I deem fit. Clearly, you cannot be trusted to remain where I told you to otherwise.” With a wave of his wrist, he cast the spell and then disappeared.
Zelda stood, still rather unsteady, and hugged Ambrose. “Thank you, my champion.” She intoned teasingly, but her hug tightened around him. “It looks that we are to be cellmates, whatever shall we do?”  
~~~~~~~~
The first night they drank until they blacked out, toasting their house arrest and laughing. They spent the next day in the dark, curled up on the couch watching horror movies together, trying to survive their hangovers. Hilda stubbornly not making her hangover curative potion to try and teach them a lesson.
The day after that, Zelda decided he needed to learn how to properly dance; claiming it a shame he never did in the first place. The two of them pushed all the furniture to the side in the parlor so his aunt could teach him to waltz, tango, and a number of other dances Ambrose couldn’t quite distinguish. But by the time they were down spinning around the room hours later they were both breathless, laughing and cracking jokes about his two left feet.
Of course, they worked here and there. But most of their time was spent on much more intriguing matters.
As Aunt Zelda’s house arrest continued, Ambrose asked her to help him learn another language. He knew the Romance languages, but there was so much more to know and when he was finally free, Ambrose didn’t intend for language to be a barrier to him going anywhere.
Zelda smiled and readily agreed. The next few weeks had them sprawled on the floor in the parlor. Fire crackling, in their pajamas and robes books spread out in front of them with tea refreshing itself regularly. They started with German; spending a few hours a day practicing, with Zelda only speaking to him in German until he was passably fluent. Chinese came next.
Then, suddenly, the war was over. And Edward saw no further reason to tether his sister to the house, three months had been pushing it as it was already.
Anxiety ate at Ambrose and he began to withdraw. Worried his aunts would be off again, this time for good, leaving him alone with his cold, distant uncle who had no time for the felon he’d taken in.
To his astonishment, though, they both stayed. Zelda traveled a bit more often, though never for as long as before and while Hilda took the occasional trip as well, one of them is always there. Always with him.
Despite their company, their efforts, as the years passed the strain of only seeing the same walls, the same yard over and over became overwhelming.
He confessed as much when Aunt Zelda returned from another trip. She’d shown him all the pictures, told him all the tales so vividly Ambrose could almost pretend he’d been there and they were laying out in the garden; the telescope she’d just brought back for him sitting abandoned off to the side, as they stared at the stars.
“I hate it here.” He breathed, feeling horrid, especially when Hilda did everything she could to make him comfortable and happy, when Zelda did everything she could to entertain and challenge him.
But, instead of consoling him, giving him empty platitudes about how when it was over it would feel like no time at all, Zelda reached over and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Oh, my dear felon, I know. I’m sorry.” She rolled her head so she was looking at him. “Perhaps we can do some research and try to lessen your sentence? Not in time, but in boundaries. We could work on extending it to Greendale…” Zelda offered, her hand still engulfing his in comfort.
The idea buoyed him, and Ambrose grinned. “That would be amazing, auntie. You think we could manage it?”
Smiling widely, Zelda winked. “Oh my boy, I think we could accomplish quite a lot together.”
Unable to stop a smile from spreading on his face in response, Ambrose turned his attention back to the night sky. Thinking that while being housebound was one of the worst things to happen to him, it had also brought him one of the best. This close bond with his Aunt Zelda. And he wouldn’t trade the past several years of that for freedom, or anything else.
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happy-haunts · 5 years
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Constance Hatchaway ( Pt. 2 )
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Constance Hatchaway ( Pt. 2 )
WARNING THIS POST CONTAINS THEMES OF ABUSE AND VIOLENCE.
Chapter one | Constance pt.1 : Constance pt.2
Chapter two | Mister Topper pt.1 : Mister Topper pt.2
Chapter three | Madame Leota pt.1 : Madame Leota pt.2
Chapter four | The Hostess
Chapter five | Captain Blood pt.1 : Captain Blood pt.2
Chapter six | Emily DeClaire pt.1 : Emily DeClaire pt.2 : Emily DeClaire pt.3
Chapter seven | Finale
She spoke the last part quietly but perked up the instant after, there was something different about her appearance today... looking closely her blue eyes were bright - so filled with warm happiness, but they were rimmed red?
“You’re very beautiful.” She blurted, catching me off guard and making me turn red.
“Oh... Why thank you Miss DeClaire, you are quite exquisite yourself...” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “DeClaire you said? Such as Howard And Elizabeth DeClaire? I had no idea they had a daughter.”
“No, no, I’m their granddaughter. I apologize I should have clarified.” She began blushing. “And I heard you were to be arranged with a gentleman in town?” This took me back.
”Why yes... I have already married him actually, did you not know?”
“How awful...” She took my hands and met my eyes, “I don’t know what I would do if I was arranged a marriage ... Is there anything I can do?” You could understand that I was thrown off by this notion, Ambrose was widely adored by the town because he was the son of a wealthy farmer who made him sound like his child was made of gold.
“No, no ... I’m handling this pretty well- you know being cooped up in a house and treated like a servant rather than a wife.” I gave her hands a squeeze, “But that’s just normal I suppose ... I have to just ... realize that.” I smirked at Emily - giving her a shrug.
“Who is the one that dictates what normal is?” She straightened a bit and knitted her brow to me. “No one thinks I’m normal, not that they’ve outright said so but I can see it in their eyes - but here I am.” Emily placed a hand over her heart, “All I can do is be unapologetically myself and hope one day they see ... not being normal isn’t so bad.”
“You don’t understand.” I felt my voice shaking, “How much they would hurt me, how they would treat me if they knew ... I’m not normal.” I pulled my hands away and gulped down the burning in my throat, but I felt her hand on my shoulder.
“I don’t mind if you’re not normal.” I gritted my teeth as the burning filled up my throat again and I finally hissed.
“I want to marry a woman, not a man not any man.” I kept my voice low as I told her and the weight from finally letting someone in on my secret was ... so uplifting... But it came crashing down when I realized - I let someone in on my secret.
“Well ...” Emily blinked placing a hand on her hip. “I’m even more sorry to hear about your arranged marriage.” I turned bright red now, if I had looked at all put together before I was a mess now.
“B-But the town and - I’m not normal ... I’ll never be able to -“
“There is more to every story, and yours isn’t over yet.” She took my hands again, “And until your story ends I believe you’ll find your happy ending.” I couldn’t hold back and I hugged her right there on the street.
“CONSTANCE!” I heard my name shouted from behind where we were and pursed my lips - pulling myself away from Emily. I remember his face as if it were happening now... Deep red unlike I had ever seen before, his pupils almost seemed to shrink to nothing, and his breathing was fast - did he run here? “I came home half an hour ago and I thought you had been swept away by some maniac!” His furious eyes looked to Emily who was now standing somewhat behind me. “What are you doing talking to that gypsy thing?”
Curiously I looked back to Emily and then to Ambrose - thing? This girl? This literal angel! (Might be an exaggeration but she didn’t spit in my face when I told her about wanting a wife so.) “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to but if you ever address her like that again I-.” Emily placed her hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t ... Constance, I’ll go...” She gave a curtsy to Ambrose. “Mr. Harper, good day.” And I watched her leave down the street till she turned a corner and left my vision. I blinked a ew times as though time were stilled - the town people were quiet as they continued to watch the scene before them- Ambrose had made his way across the street to me as I was in a trance watching Emily leave- he grabbed my arm and squeezed.
“We’re going home, dear.”
————
Home was worse, he slapped me across the face and threw me to the ground. “You weren’t here and what’s worse you talked to that gypsy!”
“I needed air Ambrose! She isn’t a gypsy she is a DeClaire!”
“Oh please, the whole town talks about her- we’ve all seen her dancing with them! And how many times have you slipped away to see that... that...” He shook his head. “I saw how you looked at her, the whole town saw how you looked at her!”
“What is so wrong with her?” I screamed down from where I was cowering on the ground. “And are you angry at the fact that she doesn’t act the way you want her to? Or the fact that I will never look at you like that?” He reared up his foot and slammed it into my face.
“Don’t try to compare me with that ... that... ARGH!” He kept stomping on me as I screamed, I was reaching for anything I could beside the fireplace now - anything! That’s when I grasped onto it ... It was as though fate was bringing me towards it ... My hatchet.
I am humble enough to say that I missed the first time - but the second time I landed a hit to his stomach... He was so shocked that it was happening it gave me ample time to get to my feet and pull out the hatchet for a second swing. “Till Death do us part.” I growled and hacked away till his head rolled off his shoulders.
I should have felt something- anything! But my body was numb... guilt overcame me - I killed him! And then realization... I killed him. Then anger again... He hurt me. I sat there- breathing heavily- and I screamed covered in the red blood from my handiwork, I began punching his limp body and clawing at it out of fury.
How could he do something like that ... How could he ... Sweet Ambrose my mother said, what a gentle boy everyone had said.
Garbage, he was garbage ... Just complete garbage...
I took him outside just like that as well - I waited until night time and threw his body in the trees along the Mississippi, I then scrubbed down the house till there was no stains in the house.
I couldn’t just go to the authorities right then ... I waited until the next night and went down there in a mess and sobbed to the authorities, “He’s not come back! He’s left me he must have left me!”
“Easy now Constance, are you talkin about Ambrose?” The more stout man questioned.
“Yes! we - we got into a fight last night ...” I touched my face for effect, “He went out for a drink is what he said ... And he hasn’t come back! Oh please! Can you look for him? I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t come back!”
“Don’t you worry Constance, he’s probably just stayed at the bar all night if the fight was that bad...”
It was just the start.
I should have listened to Emily and found my happy ending - I should have ran away somewhere to where there were people like Emily who didn’t care if I wanted to grow old with a woman and would celebrate how different I was from all these people. But my mother had another man lined up for me every time, and I remember hearing her voice in my ear man after man.
My mother insisted -“He is in good health this one - such a gentleman and so kind.”
Frank Banks, he was kind for a week after I married him and then when I told him I didn’t want to have children or touch him in the way he wanted me to ... He tried to make me. He should have stopped at infatuated for now he’s decapitated.
My mother again insisted - “Surely this gentle soul so sweet and sincere would be better suited than that old Frank.”
The Marquis De Doom, he spent no time telling me my duties as his wife and I remember when I first told him I was going to relax that day, he dared lay his hands on me like Ambrose did. He shouldn’t have tried to act so much taller, for without a head he’ll surely be smaller.
And she insisted -“He has been widely talked about in town for his great sense of humor at the pub- I’m sure he’s finally your match.”
Reginald Caine, he was actually genuinely a nice man ... He didn’t pressure me into anything nor did he raise a hand to me! But unfortunately his times drinking at the pub may have lead him to an early grave...Apparently he was a wanted man and let it slip to someone while he was drinking and was taken in to face his sentence ... A beheading. Although his death was not done by me, I’ll take the fall for the guillotine.
Once more she insisted - “Very stocky - close to your age and has such a love for children!”
George Hightower, it’s true he loved children and since I had gotten so old he had given up thinking there was still time for him to have a son. But I had hope with George ... We had gotten to know each other well enough through the years that, when I found him cheating on me with a younger woman to attempt and creat an heir to his business, I told him about how I didn’t like men and I was fine with him doing what he wanted with any woman he wanted as long as he stayed being reasonable to me. Sadly though it wasn’t so and dear George’s head had to go.
————-
I had been going from suitor to suitor, man after man... I had been planning weddings and murders so much so that I never got the chance to catch up with Emily and find out how she was... I brought her up to my last husband, George, he had bought the Gracey mansion and recounted how she died falling from the attic window. Everyone had a different story, she killed herself, her lover killed her, her fiancee killed her, or even that her grandparents killed her. I had a hard time believing the last one since not long after they passed in a house fire, alot of people said they had a hard time believing it was an accident - that they must have felt so guilty about their granddaughter dying so suddenly they burned themselves alive.
I tried not to dwell on it too much, although I wished I had come by at least at one time... If I knew she would die so suddenly... I just wished.
Years passed and I grew into an old woman, no grandchildren just an old cranky lady who soon passed peacefully in her sleep, imagine my confusion when I was pulling my form from my grave.
You could understand the confusion since I had lived in this house and never realized it was filled with all this ... activity? Ghosts were everywhere! Drinking, dancing, and singing?
I made my way through the halls and reminisced to all the years I spent here alone ...
Then I got to the attic and heard her crying.
“Hurry...” she sobbed, “Hurry back...” A girl - adorable purple and blue bride with a beating heart that was thundering in the attic so loud I could feel my non-existent pulse.
“Excuse me are you okay?” I leaned down and placed my hand on her shoulder gently- then I noticed her crown of flowers, petals fallen into her hair like she rolled through them. “Emily?” I whispered - shook to my core.
Her eyes were glowing blue - blue like her eyes used to be ... Tears were pouring down her cheeks. “Who...? Who are you?” I had to sigh because of course she might not remember me.
“Constance - Mrs. Harper remember? I was married to Ambrose all those years ago ... I heard you jumped from the window...” I looked over to the dusty attic window and pursed my lips, “It must hurt you so much to remember...” She was staring at me hard now, as if in deep concentration. “Constance...” I pointed to myself, “Hatchaway? Maybe you remember my serial killer name?” She turned a pale shade of purple. “No, no, no! Not like- I would never kill YOU just my husbands! But they were mean except one... and to be fair I wasn’t the one who did the beheading that time.”
“I- I’ll just take my leave...” I grabbed her hand.
“Wait! I won’t hurt you, I promise I chopped off their heads because of-.” But at the mention of it she yanked her hand away and placed her palm on her head.
“His head ... They chopped off his head...” tears were streaming down her cheeks.
“Who? Emily tell me what’s wrong... I want to help, I’ll stay in the attic-.”
“Take it!” She screamed at me, “I’ll go! I just - my head!” I watched her leave through the door as I plopped onto a trunk in the attic.
I waited for her to come back but she never did... That was until she brought Red with her.
And Red was the blessing I had always hoped for in life... She made me smile, she would let me be myself unapologetically -occasionally she would tease about my beheading of husbands (when you’re a ghost those jokes don’t carry as much weight to them). We are inseparable...
———
I was lounging in the attic with Red as I reminisced my humanity and origin- she was playing with my hair and made a face as I revealed my first meeting with Emily.
“I mean I can understand her having a hard time remembering things since she took a dive from the attic, but she must have known one of your victims.” I shook my head.
“No way, I would have know... I’m so sure I would have...”
“Well what are the chances it’s just some random dude who got beheaded?” I flopped my back atop her chest and gave a heavy sigh.
“True... We should investigate.” Red looked down to me and laughed.
“I’m up for any adventure you have, sweetheart... and if anything it will make for a great series of stories.”
“Lets start with someone who is bound to know something, maybe ... Let’s start with Hatty.”
And as we left the attic- for the first time in the mansion I felt as though someone was watching me.
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lynelovespopculture · 4 years
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THE CHILLING ADVENTURES OF ZELDA-CHAPTER 11: ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE!
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LIFE IS NOT EASY FOR GREENDALE’S HIGH PRIESTESS. HER BELOVED STEPDAUGHTER KEEPS REJECTING HER, IT’S GETTING HARDER TO RUN THE ACADEMY AND WHEN LITILH FINALLY GIVES BIRTH, THINGS GO FROM BAD TO WORSE!
She was horrified. “Here, Father?! You want to spend the night here?!”
“Yes,” came the answer, “and as I’ve been trying to explain to you, it wouldn’t be only for tonight. I live here now and as of this moment, so do you.”
“But this the Spellman house!  We can’t live at the Spellman house! We hate the Spellmans! You most of all!”
“I don’t hate anyone and the Spellmans are my family now, our family.”
“Have you lost your mind, Father? The Spellmans are the enemy. They’ll silt our throats in our sleep. You taught us that!”
“I didn’t teach you anything, that’s kind of the problem,”  Faustus said with desperation in his voice.  “Also, for Hecate’s sake, lower your voice please.”
Yet, it was already too late.  The 1 person Faustus really didn’t want to hear this conversation was hearing everything and had been for the past 10 minutes. For Zelda Spellman, clad in her nightgown could hear the voices in the kitchen perfectly from she was, on the left bottom staircase before the stairs spilt. It wasn’t Zelda’s intention to spy on anyone. She had a valid reason to come downstairs, Zelda just couldn’t remember what it was at the moment. Instead, for the last 10 minutes, Zelda found herself listening to her husband and stepdaughter’s conversation, hoping to answer her burning questions. Questions like how on earth did she manage to escape Blackwood, the insanity curse that raised her? Where was her twin, Judas? And how did she come to live with Dezmelda again, the very witch that Zelda had entrusted Letitia’s care to? However, all Zelda was learning was how much anger and hate her beloved stepdaughter had toward her, and the rest of her family. This was not at all what Zelda had in mind for Letitia’s homecoming.  4 hours ago, when she, Faustus and baby Cordelia returned from their trip and found Letitia, the girl Zelda had loved since birth and thought of every day, had come home, at last, Zelda’s 1st instinct was to give the girl a hug. It hurt a lot when Letitia shrunk away from her touch when she figured out Zelda was going to hug her. Zelda also saw the fear in the girl’s eyes when she beheld Faustus.
“I’m sorry I ran away, Father,” the girl’s voice trembled. “Please don’t punish me.”
Everyone knew that this wasn’t going to be easy. Letitia would only talk to Prudence and her father, ignoring the Spellmans and refuse to speak to any of them.
4 hours later, Faustus and his daughter were still speaking in the kitchen. Hilda and Prudence had gone home, Sabrina and Ambrose were both upstairs, asleep and Zelda was only getting sadder listening to Letitia bashing the family. Giving up entirely on trying to remember what she came down for, Zelda turned and started back upstairs while still hearing yelling coming from the Spellman kitchen.
“Letitia, please calm down.”
“There it is again! My name is Judith, Father, not this Letitia you keep calling me!”
Letitia. The very name Zelda herself had given to the babe and now, only 2 years in Zelda’s timeline, but 16 to Faustus’s daughter, and she hated the name Zelda had given her. Zelda sighed as she opened the door that separated the funeral formal front from the family’s personal 2nd-floor hallway. Zelda let out another heavy breath as she leaned against her now closed bedroom door. She looked up as she heard baby noises.  She crossed the room and took Cordelia out of her bassinet. It was then that Zelda finally remembered what she forgot, Cordelia’s bottle!  Yet, it wasn’t that big a deal. Being a witch sometimes meant you could cut out the middle man. Once she relaxed on the bed with the baby in her arms, that bottle magically appeared. 
“You won’t ever turn against Mommy, will you Cordelia?” Was it Zelda’s imagination or was her baby girl snuggling up against her? 
Even after feeding her, changing her, and settling her daughter back into the bassinet, Faustus had still not come up. Zelda smoked an entire cigarette and found herself anxiously pacing up and down the room, absent mindlessly playing with her wedding ring when her husband, at last, came into the room.
“How is she?” Zelda asked the moment she saw him.
“Fine,” Faustus replied. “Letitia’s asleep now. I put a root of sage under her pillow. I put her up in the nursery on the roll away bed. I hope that’s okay?”
“Oh, of course, of course,” Zelda demised his concern quickly. “Now, please tell me all you know about Letitia. How did she escape from Blackwood? Where is Judas? Why was Letitia back living with Dezmelda again?”   
“Well, it’s a long story, but it all started the night of the twins’ dark baptism.”
“Their baptism?! But that was way back in December! That was over 6 months ago!” Zelda’s eyes widened.
Faustus knew that look. After so many centuries together, Faustus was still amazed by Zelda. She had long ago perfected her cold, hard outer shell. Yet, the ones who know her best, aka her family, knew that Zelda had a big, kind heart, especially when it came to children. Zelda had not only delivered his twins as part of her duties as a midwife. She had cared for Letitia and Judas as if they were her very own. First as their night mother and then stepmother. It wasn’t only the twins. Zelda was a perfect blend of supportive friend/concerned mother that Prudence needed. Of course, other than Hilda, there was no one Sabrina loved and trusted more. Faustus also felt honored that he not only fathered Zelda’s only natural child but Zelda also chose him to raise Cordelia with. Zelda was still looking at him for an answer, so he walked over to his wife and rubbed her arm affectionally.
“Just let me change and I’ll tell you all I know.”
5 minutes later, Faustus and Zelda lay in bed, talking.
“Just as I feared, Blackwood planned to marry the twins to each other on their 16th birthday. Apparently, Judas had no problem with this, but Letitia, rightly so, didn’t want to become her brother’s bride. So, before dawn that day, before Blackwood and Judas were awake, Letitia ran away.” Faustus explained.  
“Poor girl. What a horrible way to spend your 16th birthday,” Zelda shook her sadly. “I hope she wasn’t alone for long?”
Faustus saw the genuine worry on Zelda’s face and couldn’t help but smile.  Was it any wonder that he absolutely adored the ground Zelda walked on? “No, not too long,” he replied.  “Just for 2 days and a night. Dezmelda found her right before the 2nd sunset.”
Zelda frowned. “Well, then that begs another question if Letitia has been with her for over 6 months, why didn’t Dezmelda tell anyone?”
“Letitia told me that she begged Dezmelda not to tell anyone that she was there. Letitia was terrified of being taken back to me, er, Blackwood.”
“You did explain the insanity curse to her, didn’t you?” 
Faustus sighed. “I did but I don’t think she understood. I may have to explain to her all again. I mean, it is all very complicated. I really think that all Letitia needs is some”
“Time?” Zelda offered. “We can surely give her that. I’m just so happy that she’s here under our roof where we can protect her.”
Faustus stroked Zelda’s cheek and kissed her.  “My thoughts exactly. I love you.” They fell asleep shortly after.
Hours later, Zelda woke up to Cordelia’s cries and stepped from the bed to her daughter’s bassinet. After feeding the baby, Zelda realized that she had a perfect excuse to sneak into the nursery. After tiptoeing into the room and settled Cordelia in her crib, Zelda turned to look at the young girl that was asleep in the pale moonlight. Zelda longed to sit by Letitia’s side, stroke her hair, and kissed her brow. Yet she didn’t do anything like that for fear that Letitia would wake up and flinch from her as she did before.
“Sleep well, Letitia,” Zelda whispered softly. “I’m so happy that you’re finally home.”
Zelda sadly closed the door, went back to her room, and got back into bed. Zelda instantly felt a bit better when a still half-asleep Faustus wrapped an arm around her.
Despite the fact that she would have preferred to stay with Letitia, on her full 1st day home and was still tired from the trip from Rome, Zelda kissed Faustus and Cordelia goodbye the next morning before heading to the academy. Zelda froze at the front door when she heard Letitia asked her father.
“Are you really going to just stand there while that bitch steals your job?!”
“Watch your mouth, young lady! Zelda isn’t stealing anything!”
The redhead closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and forced herself to continue on her way.
 It was during morning assembly that Zelda got to tell the whole school, students, and staff alike about her trip to Rome and how successful it was. Zelda was touched when the whole crowd burst into applause and then Zelda kept on being stopped on the way back to her office to offer their congratulations. When she finally got to her office, Zelda saw her 1st appointment was waiting.
“Hello, brother Barker.” Zelda smiled. “Please take a seat.”
The warlock sat before the desk as Zelda went to sit behind it. “So, what can I do for you today?” Zelda asked.  
Barker sighed. “I hate to do this to you, Zelda. Especially when you’re just back from Rome, but I’ve thought long and hard about it and I’ve decided to retire.”
Zelda was shocked. “Retire? You? But you are the most experienced teacher at this school. You taught most of the staff, myself included.”
Barker nodded. “I know, I know. As I said, I hate to do this but I’m a whole century older than the rest of you and I just can’t keep up. Even with your sister and the young teachers in training, the student body still outnumbers us 3 to 1.”
Zelda raised an eyebrow. “So, your solution to a teacher’s shortage is to resign yourself?”
“I’m sorry but I can’t keep up this pace anymore.”
Zelda sat back in her chair, thinking. “Brother Barker,” Zelda said slowly, “if you were me, how would you solve this problem?”
The old warlock shrugged. “I don’t know. Take out an ad in the newspaper?”
Zelda laughed shortly. “Oh, that would go over well. Wanted: 2 or more experienced teachers for a secret witch’s school right in our own backyard. Oh, I can see that in the Greendale Gazette.”
Barker shook his head. “No, I didn’t mean the gazette, I actually was referring to the IWD. I’ve heard they had gone digital.”
Zelda closed her eyes. “The newspaper run by the International Witches Database, of course, that’s what you meant! Forgive me, Brother Barker, I’m afraid I’m still suffering from jet lag from the flight from Rome. Anyway, I think placing an ad in the IWD is a brilliant idea! I think as the most senior member of this academy’s staff, I think you’re the perfect person to write up the ad, or at least the 1st draft. In fact, what’s your next class?”
“Um..it’s casting 101,” Barker answered.
Zelda nodded. “I’ll handle your class so that you can get started on the ad.  Please feel free to use my office. I’ll also take a look at the schedule and see if I can divide the classes more evenly between the teachers. I just need to ask you 1 favor. Until the person who is selected from the ad is picked and settled, can you stay on?”
“Are you kidding? If this leaves off enough pressure, I may not retire after all.”
Zelda smiled. “Good.”
1 crisis down, about a million more to go. Barker was right; every teacher was stressed to the limit. Of course, the fact that the headmistress had been gone for a whole week, didn’t help matters. On top of her classes, Zelda also had a mountain of paperwork to get through. Zelda was so swamped that she had to call Faustus at home to tell him not to hold supper for her. Zelda sensed something in her husband’s voice, sadness perhaps, but decided not to pursue it. By 7, Zelda was still working at her desk and was not all happy when she looked up and saw the hell minion was right before her.
Zelda sighed. “What on earth are you doing here?” She demanded of the bellhop.
“Lilith is” the minion started and Zelda, tired and cranky, cut in rather quickly.
“Is not due for another 6 weeks and her last check-up is not for another 2 weeks.”
“Be that as it may,” the minion tried again. “Lilith said that she was bleeding and to fetch you right away.”
Zelda sighed as she opened her desk drawer, took out a pad of paper, and quickly wrote a note that she quickly spelled to the dining table of the Spellman house where Faustus was sure to find it. Then Zelda stood up and held out her hand until she felt the handle of the medical bag in her palm. Then she gestured to the minion. “Lead the way.”
Hell was the last place Zelda Spellman thought she would be tonight. All she wanted to do was go home, check on the children, have something to eat, cuddle up next to Faustus, and go to sleep. Yet, duty called. The minion was walking her down a palace hallway when Zelda felt herself being grabbed and pulled into a room. The next thing Zelda knew, she was face to face with Lilith.
“Did you find it? Did you bring it?” Lilith demanded.
“Did I find or bring what?” Zelda honestly didn’t know what Lilith was talking about.
“The spell!” Lilith cried as if it was the obvious thing in the world. “The spell that pauses my pregnancy.”
Zelda made a face. “No, I bring that!  The spell would be against nature.  There is no magic against nature! You know that! Every witch knows that!” It was only when Lilith threw up her hands and was walking away from her, that Zelda noticed something. “You’re not bleeding, are you?  You bought me down here for nothing.”
“Nothing!” Lilith turned back sharply. “I’m due in only 6 weeks! The moment after I give birth, my stay of execution will be over and Lucifer will kill me!”
“You’ve had 13 months to plan your escape,” Zelda pointed out, “why didn’t you?”
 “How can I plan anything with Lucifer watching me 24/7! Besides, why should I plan anything, when it’s your fault I’m in this mess!”
Zelda was so shocked she could only blink. “My fault?!”
“Yes!” Lilith returned with a hiss. “If you hadn’t turned me away, I wouldn’t be in this mess!”
“You having a baby, I hardly call that a mess, Lilith! And for the record, I turned you away because you are  untrustworthy, and as high priestess, I always have to put the safety of my family and coven first. Besides how was I to know when you left the academy, how was I to know you would run right into Lucifer’s arms!”
“I was trying to save my life!” Lilith defended herself.  “As Lucifer already showed, I wasn’t in his arms. I was in your husband’s and you say I’m untrustworthy.”
“Blackwood is not my husband, Faustus is!”
Lilith waved her hand dismissingly. “Same difference.”
“There’s a lot of difference!” Zelda instantly defended. “Blackwood is a soulless, evil parasite. A curse, who we would have been rid of by now if you haven’t of given him the mark of Cain.  Faustus is a real person, who has been through the darkest pain, has owned up to his mistakes and now tries harder to be better every single day, to redeem himself. That’s the difference.  Lucifer hasn’t paid me in information for months. The only reason I’m still your mid-wife is to protect my coven and family, including my husband, from the dark lord.” Zelda turned to leave but then turned back. “As you said, you’re due in 6 weeks, and if I were you, I’ld start planning something.” Then Zelda left.
Although she was tired and long to go home, Zelda returned to the Academy and managed to do another hour of paperwork. Then she went home. Stopping at the kitchen’s entrance, Zelda watched Faustus cleaning the island while Letitia fluttered around him. 
“I bet she’s not even a mid-wife. I think she been with her lover all night.”  Suggested Letitia.
Faustus didn’t even bother to look up. “Zelda doesn’t have a lover,” His tone was completely calm, if slightly annoyed. 
Letitia then lit up. “Why am I saying it like it’s a bad thing? The more time she spends with her lover, the more you can spend with your mistress. Maybe even invite her over so I can meet her. Anyone would be better than a Spellman.”
Faustus sighed. “I’ve already told you; I don’t have a mistress and Zelda doesn’t have a lover.  We are faithful to each other because we’re a happily married couple. We love each other and have no need for anyone else.”
It was a sweet statement but Letitia looked horrified.  “I don’t believe it. No man is happy with only 1 woman.”
Faustus shrugged. “Believe it or not, it’s true and as I’ve told you numerous times today, I’m very happy being married to Zelda, caring for Cordelia and being a house husband.”
His daughter frowned. “That’s not natural.  Women should stay in the home.”
“So, you’ve said numerous times today!”  Faustus forced himself to stay calm. “It’s late, Judith, maybe you should go up and get ready for bed.”
The girl left the kitchen and Faustus finished up and hung up the kitchen rag before he turned and finally noticed Zelda. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to know that you had a rough 1st day.” Zelda walked over to her husband, putting her medical bag on the island and then kissed him. “Feel better?”
“Much,” Faustus smiled and put his arms around her. 
Zelda smiled. “I’m glad to hear that you don’t have a mistress. If you did, you realize I would have to kill you.”
“As would be your right.” Zelda laughed and Faustus kissed her. “Listen, I only called her Judith just now is because she yelled at me all morning that her name was not Letitia.”
“There’s no need to explain,” She told him truthfully as he put an arm around Zelda’s shoulder as they left the kitchen. In the parlor, they found Sabrina bouncing the baby. Zelda lit up at the sight of her niece and her daughter.
“Cordelia! Did you miss mommy today? I sure missed you. Hello, Sabrina. How was your day?”
“It was good, aunt Z and Cordy is finished her night bottle,” Sabrina explained as she handed Zelda the baby and Faustus the bottle. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a little more homework to do before bed.”
“Goodnight,” Zelda smiled as Sabrina kissed her goodnight.
“Thank you for all your help tonight,” Faustus added.
With Sabrina gone, Zelda sat down and began to rock Cordelia. Faustus sat down on a stool, and he took Zelda’s foot out of its high heel and began to rub the foot.  The pleasurable moan that escaped Zelda’s lips made Faustus smile. “Feel good?”
“Like Hecate’s palace,” Zelda’s smile was one of pure bliss.
“Funny, there’s where I thought you came from,” Faustus got up and kissed her.
A little while later, Letitia was in bed, reading, however when she heard the door opening, she stashed her book under her pillow.
“Don’t mind me,” her father said softly. “I just need to put your sister to bed.”
Letitia was confused. “She’s not my sister. You told me yourself this morning that Cordelia was Zelda’s baby.”
Faustus put the infant in her crib before turning to answer Letitia.
“Yes, Zelda is Cordelia’s mother but I’m her father. She’s a part of us both.”
Letitia’s eyes widened as she got up off her cot to face her father. “Father, are you telling me that you actually mated with a Spellman? That is so wrong!” She wore a look of utter disgust.
Faustus sighed; his mouth was a thin line. “The only thing wrong here is that statement. I married a woman I loved and we were blessed with a child. It’s that simple.”
“But a Spellman!? To dirty our bloodline like that?! Father, you can do so much better.”
“That’s enough!” Letitia opened her mouth to say something else but Faustus held up his hand. “This is not up for debate, young lady. Now get back in bed and go to sleep!” Faustus closed the door behind him and went to his own room. There he saw Zelda, in bed, her arms around her knees, in a very un-Zelda like manner. In her hand was the 2-way baby monitor. She looked up at Faustus.
“She hates me,” Zelda was on the verge of tears.
Faustus went to her and took the monitor from her. He switched it off to ensure that they could talk in private. “She doesn’t hate you,” Faustus assured her. “She doesn’t know you. She doesn’t even know me yet. All she knows is Blackwood and his warped world view. After 16 years, it’s tough to overcome. Believe me, I know. Like you said last night, it’s going to take time.”
He was right, partly. Over time, Letitia did get closer, to some people. Like her sister, Prudence, and even Sabrina, once Letitia learned she wasn’t a true blood Spellman. As for Ambrose, Hilda, and Zelda, Letitia remained ice cold, no matter how much or how hard they tried to befriend her and it was breaking Zelda’s heart.
It was a few days after Dezmelda’s funeral, that Zelda was in the middle of teaching a class when something odd happened.  Zelda smelled the smoke before she actually saw it. Then the pain set in. It was only then that Zelda’s finger burst into flames. The screaming students certainly didn’t help anything.  Zelda ran out of the classroom and was thankful for whoever placed the water pitcher in the hallway. Dropping her whole hand in the jug, it did stop the fire but not the pain. Only when Zelda took off the boiling hot ring and dropped it on the floor, that’s the pain started to fade. Once she caught her breath, Zelda leaned down and saw her smoking, half-melted, and now utterly unwearable wedding ring.
Faustus looked up from his cooking and smiled. “Welcome home, dearest.” He kissed her hello. “So, how was your day?”
“It was fine darling, mostly.”
Faustus arched an eyebrow. “Care to explain that mostly?”
Zelda sighed and then dug into her purse.  “I was smoked,” She explained as she produced the ring.
“Is that your wedding ring?” Faustus asked and frowned when his wife nodded. “I was afraid of this.”
It was only then that Zelda noticed that Faustus’s hand was ringless as well. “What happened to you?”
“I was feeding Cordelia her bottle this morning when suddenly, out of nowhere and for no reason at all, my ring snapped in 2 and fell off. Alright, I’m going to fix this right now,” Faustus put down the wooden spoon and turned off the stove before marching out of the kitchen.
Zelda followed him. “What are you doing?”
“Going upstairs to talk to Letitia. It’s obvious that it’s her who did this. Who else would want to destroy the symbols of our marriage?”
“Faustus, no!” Zelda grabbed his arm. “We have no proof that it was her. And even if was her, I’m sure it was nothing but a childish prank to blow off steam. I’m sure the worst is over.”
How wrong Zelda was.
“So, what do you think?”
It was the following week and Zelda and Faustus were alone in their room. It was late at night and Zelda was asking her husband his opinion about Brother Barker’s newly finished teacher’s ad for the IWD’s newspaper.
“This is fine, very fine,  indeed. This should attract some excellent teachers. Yet, I’m afraid that Barker forgot something very important.”
Zelda took back the paper. “Really? I could swear Barker got in all the information.”
Faustus chuckled. “I truly do trust you, dearest, I do. But I do remember that the last time you hired a teacher, it was Mambo Marie and she was wildly attracted to you.  Not that I blame her.  I mean, any person with eyes would be attracted and since most teachers have eyes…”
Zelda smiled. “So, you think we mention that the headmistress is not available right in the ad.”
Faustus smiled back. “How about the headmistress is married?”
“How about the headmistress is in love?” Zelda suggested.
“Madly in love?” Faustus added.
“Passionately?”
“Completely?”
“Forever.”
Zelda allowed the ad to slip through her fingers to the floor and closed her eyes as Faustus began to kiss her deeply. They were in each other’s arms as they both fell backward toward the bed. The moment their bodies touched the mattress, Zelda and Faustus were torn apart. Due to some unknown source, Faustus was flung into the left side of the room; Zelda, the right.  
“Hey!”
“Ow!” After a few seconds, they got up, dusted themselves off, and looked at each other. “What the heaven was that?” Zelda asked her husband.
The next morning, after Zelda left for work, Faustus sighed as he went back upstairs, into his room and lifted up the mattress. His heart dropped as soon as he found it. There, right in the middle of the frame was a penny. One side of the penny was flat, the other side stood straight up. Frowning, Faustus took the penny and when downstairs to the kitchen was Prudence and Letitia were.
“Hello girls,” Faustus forced his tone to remain calm. 
Both of his daughters looked up and smiled at him. Prudence was helping Letitia with some of her schoolwork. It was hoped that if she worked hard enough that Letitia would be ready to attend the academy next term. Prudence gestured with her pencil. “What do you have there, Father?”
Faustus kept it cool. “Oh, this? This is a bent penny. I haven’t seen 1 of these in a very long time. That’s because a bent penny is used in a specific spell that is usually used by jealous teenage witches with cheating boyfriends. Anyway, the witch would enchant this penny and put it under the boyfriend’s mattress and if the boyfriend took another lover to his bed, he and the lover would be jolted off the bed and far away from each other.”
Prudence smiled. “Well, I’ll have to remember that if Ambrose starts acting strangely,” she joked.  However, Faustus was more interested in his younger daughter’s reaction. Letitia didn’t even look up from her schoolwork. However, when Faustus turned to leave, he saw in the glass above the door that Letitia wore a smile.
That smile told Faustus all he needed to know.
“I can’t believe it took a whole month for all of us to come together again.” Hilda declared as she and Zelda prewashed a few dinner dishes while Faustus and Dr. C got the cake and coffee ready.
Zelda smiled. It was true, the Spellmans had not been all together for a full 30 days, since the night Faustus and Zelda got home from Rome. That was 1 of the reasons for tonight’s get together. The adults made their way out of the kitchen and into the dining room where the kids were waiting but 1 had flown the coop.
“Where’s Letitia?” Zelda asked.
Ambrose shrugged. “She said didn’t want dessert and went upstairs.” 
Zelda sighed. Be it meals together or any other family event, Letitia would get away as soon as possible or not show up at all. Zelda hoped it would change over time but it was a month now but nothing was changing. Zelda smiled at Faustus when her husband took her hand. It was to focus on telling the family the news.
“Everyone,” Zelda began, “as wonderful as tonight’s dinner has been, Faustus and I have gathered you all here for another reason. You see, we have something to tell you, something we learned in Rome. We planned to tell you all the night we came home but we got sidetracked by Letitia being found and everything.”
“Is it about the council?” Hilda asked. “Did something happen? You are still a high priestess, aren’t you?”
“What? Oh yes, Hildie, of course, I am. No, this news has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with Cordelia. Do you remember what happened the night of her presenting? Her birthmark- “
“The mark of the divine,” Ambrose said, suddenly remembering a phone call he, Faustus, and Prudence had, “Did you find out what it all means?”
 “Yes,” Zelda had the whole table’s attention as she told the family everything. She told them all about Maxine and the secret sisterhood. How they freaked out about Cordelia’s crescent moon birth mark-the mark of the divine. Zelda told them all about her research, about Hecate’s grandchildren, the tale of the 2 cousins, the start of the Spellman and Blackwood bloodlines, and what it meant for baby Cordelia.
It was Prudence who first broke the shocked silence.  “My baby sister is fated to be the most powerful witch ever born?!”
“That is what all the prophecies I read said, yes.” Zelda nodded.
“I can’t believe it,” Prudence whispered.
“I can,” Said Hilda. “A lot of things make sense now. The reason why Cordelia has been so alert and awake since she was born. The reason the pregnancy was healthy and was able to survive even after you were shot, Zelds.  It makes complete sense now. Cordelia was meant to be born.
“I didn’t even consider all that, but yes, Hildie, I believe you’re right,” Zelda nodded.
“So, what are we going to do with this information?” Asked Sabrina.
Zelda shrugged. “I don’t know if there is  anything to be done. I just remember how hurt Hilda and I were that Edward didn’t tell us about going to the dark lord for a child. So, this is us telling you all about Cordy.”
Ambrose frowned. “What about Cordelia herself?  When and what will you tell Cordelia about all this?”
“Faustus and I spoke about almost nothing else on the flight home and for the foreseeable future, we decided to say nothing to Cordelia. We want to give her as normal a childhood as possible.”
A couple of hours later, after the meal, after Prudence, Hilda and Dr. C went home and Sabrina and Ambrose were in their rooms. Zelda entered the nursery and smiled at her baby.
“Hello, Cordelia. Mommy going to give you a little bath and your bottle before bed. Won’t that be fun?” Zelda tried to pick up Cordelia but she just couldn’t. It was as if there an invisible wall around her daughter. “What the heaven?”
“I’d step away from the baby if I were you.” 
Zelda turned to see Letitia, her arms crossed and leaning against the door. “Letitia, what have you done?”
Letitia’s frown deepened. “Firstly, my name is Judith! Secondly, if what I heard  you say is true, I must protect my little sister. I can’t just let anyone come in off of the streets and take her.”
Zelda looked from Letitia and Cordelia and back again.  Her heartbreaking with every glance. “But I’m not just anyone. I’m her mother.” Zelda said firmly.
Letitia made a movement of dismissal. “You’re a Spellman! I made it so no Spellman will ever be able to touch Cordelia Blackwood ever again.” As if to rub it in, Letitia took the bottle from Zelda, made a show out of taking Cordelia out of her crib, and then sat down to feed the baby. 
Before a stunned Zelda could react, Faustus came into the room. “What’s going on here?” he demanded.
“Nothing, Father,” Letitia said calmly. “Just protecting your youngest from the Spellmans.”
Not quite understanding, Faustus looked to his wife.
“She cast a spell so I can’t touch Cordelia,” Zelda explained.
“It’s not just her, it applies to all the Spellmans.” Letitia seemed proud of herself.
Beyond annoyed, Faustus rolled his eyes. “Not 1 of your stupid, childish spells again! Letitia, I want you to take your spell off your sister and apologize to your mother! Right now!”
Letitia was seething. “HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU THIS? MY NAME IS JUDITH AND SHE,” Letitia eyed Zelda upper and down in utter disgust, “IS NOT MY MOTHER!”
Faustus sighed deeply, trying desperately to keep calm as he reached out to grab Cordelia. “Please don’t scream in the baby’s ear. Now, why did you feel the need to put a spell on the baby?”
“I overheard some of the conversation that was happening downstairs. About how powerful Cordelia will be and I wanted to protect her. It’s like you always told us, it’s us or them. It’s the Spellmans or it’s the Blackwoods.”
Faustus sighed. “For the 10000th time, I didn’t tell you anything, the curse did. Also, there are no Blackwoods here. Like I’ve already told you, I’m a Spellman now, Cordelia is a Spellman and even you are a Spellman.”
“I will NEVER be a Spellman!” Letitia snapped.
“But you already are, isn’t she, Zelda?  Zelda?” Faustus wasn’t sure when but Zelda had left.
After telling Letitia they’d talk more about later, Faustus went looking for Zelda. He found her across the hall, in their own bedroom. Zelda was seated at the end of their bed. Her head was buried in her hands. Faustus could tell she was crying because her shoulders were shaking violently.
“Oh, dearest,” Faustus took Zelda into his arms.
“I’m such an idiot!” Zelda declared between sobs. “I truly believed that once we found the twins, we would be 1 happy family.”
Faustus found himself rocking his wife. “We will be, my dearest, I promise you. I just need to figure out how to get through to Letitia. Maybe a little time.”
“Time? It’s been a month already. Instead of things getting better, they’re getting worse. Letitia hates me, she hates me so much that she doesn’t even want me to touch her little sister, my own baby!”
“I will never allow the spell to stand!” Faustus soothed as he rubbed Zelda’s back. “I’ve Cordelia back in your arms before you know it.”
It was easier said than done. Letitia refused to take off the spell and Faustus was having trouble finding an anti-spell.  Father and daughter got into screaming matches. Faustus no longer trusted Letitia to be alone with the baby so Cordelia moved into her parents’ room. It drove Zelda absolutely crazy not being able to hold or touch her own child but Faustus made it somewhat better was when Faustus would lie Cordelia down to sleep between them and they could be near each other.  It was at the most heartbreaking when Cordelia would smile at Zelda and hold out her arms, obviously wanting to be picked up by her mommy. No matter how hard she tried, Zelda couldn’t, and it wasn’t just her. Both Hilda and Ambrose tried to hold the baby and all failed. This awful tension, which grew and grew, continued for 2 weeks. The tension in the house got so bad that certain members of the household, namely Sabrina and Ambrose, went out of their way to be out of the house. She would never admit it, but even Zelda was happy that the academy needed her more and more. They were starting the summer session and the responses to the teacher’s ad were coming in and there was much more than expected. This meant a lot of late nights for Zelda. It all came to a head 1 evening. 
Faustus was sitting at the table, feeding Cordelia her bottle while Zelda was at the stove, stirring the soup.
“Dinner, children!”  Zelda called out.  Ambrose and Sabrina presently came into the kitchen, smiling at and thanking their aunt as she handed them their bowls. A moment later, everyone heard a door slam and stomping on the stairs, Letitia came into the kitchen. Like she did for the other kids, Zelda held out the soup bowl to her stepdaughter.
However, all Letitia did was stare daggers at Zelda. “Whore!”
Hearing this, Faustus balanced the baby on his hip and went over to his wife and daughter. “Hey! What did I tell you about calling Zelda names?”
“But she is a whore!” Letitia insisted. “I was just in my room, doing a memory spell”
“You did a memory spell, all by yourself?” Zelda asked softly. She couldn’t help but be impressed.
“Yes, I wanted to see my mother and I did see her when she was pregnant with Judas and me and I found this 1,” She pointed at Zelda, “tending to her.”
Faustus shrugged. “So? I told you that Zelda was your mother’s midwife.”
“Yeah, but after the check-up, I followed her, down to the cells, where she promptly had sex with you.” Letitia turned her attention back to Zelda. “You killed her, didn’t you?  You killed my mother and blamed it on childbirth?!”
“No, I didn’t.” Zelda’s voice was reassuring but also very firm.
“Yes, you did!” Letitia screamed. “It shouldn’t have been her. I wish it had been you who had died!”
Sabrina gasped as Faustus took a step forward. “That’s it! Go to your room! Now!” Faustus watched his daughter stalk out of the room and turned to his wife. “Are you alright, dearest?”
“I’m fine,” Zelda said but looked anything but as she shut off the stove. “I’ve just remembered, I’m going to be late for an appointment.”
Faustus followed Zelda into the hall where she began to gather up her things. “What about dinner?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
Zelda looked across the room at Lilith and shrugged.  “There’s nothing wrong. The baby’s fine and everything right on schedule.”
Lilith frowned. “I meant with you. You show up 2 hours early and that is the 1st sentence you said all the time you’ve been here. So, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Zelda cleared her throat. “It’s personal.”
“Zelda, you just finished working inside of me, I think we are beyond personal.”
Zelda sighed deeply. “Fine, if you really want to know, Letitia hates me.”
“Oh,” Lilith nodded. “Who’s Letitia?”
Zelda drew an even deeper sigh as she explained about the twins to Lilith.
Lilith was less worried. “Why should you care? She’s not even your daughter.”
Zelda rolled her eyes. “Why am I even discussing this with you? You’re due soon and I don’t even think you love your own baby. I told you it was a boy months ago. Have you spent 1-second thinking of a name?  Or even wanting to hold him?”
“I already told you, this baby is not for loving.”
“All babies are for loving!” Zelda snapped. “I remember when I was pregnant before finding out about the curse. I remember being terrified but ready to be kicked out my coven and disowned by my family, as long as I got to keep my baby.” And now I can’t even hold her anymore. Zelda thought to herself as she quickly wiped a tear away and went back to pack up her medical bag. Her back to Lilith.
“You know the difference between you and me?”
Zelda shrugged. “I’ve loved before and you haven’t?” 
“I’ve loved. I loved Adam!”
“Adam? As I recall, you couldn’t run away from him or the garden fast enough.”
“No, another Adam.” Lilith was afraid she had said too much so she lashed out. “You know what?  You’re a fool! That girl will never see you as anything but as an evil stepmother!”
Zelda said nothing; she just closed her bag and left in an annoyed huff.
“Now I know that we never talked about manners, young lady but calling your stepmother a whore, especially to her face, is certainly bad form.”
After having a quiet if slightly awkward dinner with Sabrina and Ambrose, Faustus decided to wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen before he called down his daughter for a stern talking to in the living room.
“But she is a whore!” Letitia insisted, rather loudly.  “She had sex, knowingly, with another woman’s husband. That’s the very definition of a whore!”
Faustus sighed. “Then what about me?” he wanted to know. “I was the 1 who was married during the affair. I’m married now and you been encouraging me to take a mistress.”
Letitia shook her head. “That’s different. You’re a man. All men enjoy sex but the only women who enjoy sex are whores.”
“That is your grandfather talking! I didn’t believe in that stupid double standard when I was 12 and I don’t believe it now.”
“Let’s leave,” she sat up straighter, “You, me, and the baby, let’s leave this house and never come   back.”
“We are not going anywhere. As a minor, you will live where I live and I’m not leaving Zelda.”
“Of course, you’re not leaving Zelda, because you’re under her spell. How else would you explain enjoying being a housekeeper while she’s at work every day?”
Faustus crossed his arms. “That’s ironic. Lately, the only 1 casting spells and trying to control things is you and that has to stop, Judith.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a ringing phone. Faustus walked in the hallway to answer it. “Hello?”
“Hello, darling.”
“Zelda, my love! Thank Hecate! I’ve been worrying about you ever since you left here 4 hours ago. Where have you been?”
“I went to see Lilith for her last check-up and then I returned to the academy to do some paperwork. In fact, that’s why I’m calling. I’m afraid it’s going to be another long night, Faustus. I’m going to stay here tonight.”
Her husband was not fooled, not for a single second, “Dearest one, I know you’ll still upset about what happened with you and Letitia and you have every reason to be so, but running away is not the answer.”
“No, I’m fine,” Zelda said but the tightness in her voice told Faustus that she was anything but. “I just have a lot of work to do.”
Faustus tried again. “Alright, I get that you have work to do. But even if it’s 3, 4, or 5 in the morning, please0 feel free to come home at any time, even if it’s just for a few hours. I love you. I need you.”
“No, he doesn’t!” Faustus was horrified to hear his daughter’s voice on the phone. Then he remembered. The Spellman house was an old house and as a result, it only had 1 landline. Faustus was using the phone in the hall, Letitia’s voice sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.
“That’s right,” Letitia continued to scream at Zelda over the phone. “No one needs or wants you here! The longer you stay away, the better! In fact, I suggest you never come back, mother killer!”
“What are you doing?” Faustus growled as he came up behind his daughter, took the phone out of her hand, and covered up the mouthpiece. “You have no right to attack Zelda like that. Go upstairs, NOW!” Faustus placed the phone to his ear. “Zelda? Honey?” All he heard was a dial tone. “Damn it!”
Although Faustus waited up for her, Zelda didn’t go home that night nor did she come home the next night even though she had called several times during the day to check on the family. It was becoming clear to Faustus that if he wanted his wife to come home, he would have to go get her himself. But first thing first.
Cordelia laughed wildly as she splashed in the water, Faustus couldn’t help but laugh too. Yet this was no regular bath. Faustus was bathing Cordelia in the strongest anti-spell he had ever come across. “Thank Hecate you’re such a water baby, Cordy.” He kissed her head before Faustus looked to the ceiling. “Ambrose! Can you come here for a moment?”
A second later, Ambrose appeared at the door. “Yes? What can I-Judas Priest, what is that smell?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. It’s the anti-spell,” Faustus pointed to the sink where Cordelia sat.
Ambrose made a face. “That is foul! How can you stand it?”
“I spelled myself and Cordy before we started. I can’t smell anything right now.”
“Well, you could have warned me!”
“Sorry,” Faustus grabbed a fluffy towel and scooped up his daughter. “Anyway, you can go as soon as I figure out if the anti-spell worked. Can a Spellman hold this baby?”
Ambrose held his breath as he held his cousin.
“It worked!” Faustus took Cordelia back, kissed her, and gave her a proper bath to wash off the stench.
To avoid any more fighting, Faustus waited until nighttime to make his move. He checked that everyone was asleep before returning to his room. 
“Well, Cordelia, all is quiet and well here. Shall we go visit Mommy?” Faustus watched the 5 months old squeal excitedly. Faustus smiled and picked up the basket and teleported. A moment later, Faustus was walking into his old bedroom on the top floor of the academy. Faustus felt a little uneasy about seeing it again. After all, this was his 1st time in the academy in years. After a nervous breath, Faustus focused and noticed that the bed was littered in papers. Ad responses and corrected schoolwork. Zelda was in the shower; he could hear the water running. A moment later, Zelda appeared.
“Faustus?! What are you doing here?”
He smiled. “I decided that 3 nights without my wife is much, much too long. Plus I have a surprise for you.” Faustus picked up Cordelia and held her out in front of him.
Zelda tilted her head. “Faustus, what are you doing? You know I can’t touch her.”
“But you can, my love. I broke the spell today.”
Zelda was still doubtful but came forward. Her eyes lit up as she took Cordelia in her arms. “My baby!  Mommy missed you so much!” Zelda covered the infant’s face with kisses making Cordelia giggle which led to more kisses. Faustus watched the precious mother/daughter moment, put his hand on the small of Zelda’s back.
“I missed you too.” He kissed his wife and she smiled.
Since it was already brewed, they sat down and had tea while Cordelia curled up and fell asleep on Zelda’s chest. Later, when Zelda was settling Cordelia into bed, Faustus noticed the black and gold robe that didn’t quite fit her. He waited for Zelda to turn to him before Faustus tug the robe’s belt and Zelda was in his arms. 
He kissed her deeply before he asked, “Isn’t this my robe?” 
Zelda smiled. “Yes, it is and that 1 of the 2 reasons I’ve worn it all 3 nights I’ve been here. To remind me of you and the 1st time I wore this robe was to check on baby Judas and he gave me the cutest smile.”
As Zelda talked, Faustus kissed Zelda’s neck and untying the knot in the belt of the rope. When she mentioned Judas, he thought about when Zelda called home to check in, she never failed to ask about Letitia, no matter how badly the girl had mistreated her. The fact that she still worried and thought about the twins constantly proved that Zelda was their mother.
“I love you,” Faustus whispered against Zelda’s collarbone. “I could live a million years and never adore anyone half as I adore you.”
They undressed and made love all night long. Zelda had to leave the bed only once; to tend to the baby, but then happily returned to her husband’s embrace.
They met the dawn in each other’s arms.  “I have a favor to ask of you. Come home tonight.”
Zelda sighed. “Faustus, Letitia is-“
“A 16-year-old child,” Her husband rushed to remind her, “and we’re a family. As parents, we should correct, not reward Letitia’s bad behavior. Speaking of correcting behavior,” Faustus reached down into his discarded pants pocket on the floor and took out a small velvet box. “I ordered these weeks ago but they only came in yesterday,” Faustus explained and opened the box to reveal another pair of wedding rings that Letitia’s spell had destroyed.
Faustus slid the ring onto Zelda’s finger and kissed her. “Will you come home?”
Zelda smiled and put the ring on him. “I will.”
After a few hours of sleep, Zelda hurried downstairs to attend morning assembly while Faustus and Cordelia went home. Faustus spent all day working. Be it protection spells, sealing spells, anti-spells, and more, he makes sure that every inch of the house was ready to take on his daughter’s spiteful little spells. Faustus didn’t tell Letitia that Zelda was coming home until the very last minute. He also told her, quite sternly to be nice to her stepmother and to everyone’s surprise…she was.
5 days after Zelda came home, Letitia laid out a wonderful tea service and sandwiches and then invited Zelda to join her. Touched, Zelda accepted. Meanwhile, Faustus was upstairs, putting Cordelia down for a nap. Turning away from the crib, Faustus noticed that Letitia’s cot was unmade. He made the bed, but when he grabbed the pillow up to fluff it, a book hit the floor. The book fell spine up and pages spread out. Faustus picked it up, flipping the pages, thinking nothing of it until he got to the last page, then his eyes bugged out.
“NO!” He dropped the book instantly and ran downstairs.
“A toast,” Letitia raised her teacup, “To us and a new beginning.”  They clinked the cups together and  Zelda was just about to take a sip when the teacup flew out of her hand and crashed against the wall. Zelda turned and saw a panicked Faustus entering the room.
“Dearest, how much tea did you drink? Do you think you can bring it back up?”
Zelda shook her head. “I haven’t had any tea.”
“Father, I can explain- “
“I’m not even ready to talk to you yet!”
“What’s going on?” Zelda asked.
“I was making up Letitia’s bed for her and under her pillow, I found a book of spells and on the last page  was a cargarli spell and I thought that” Faustus waved an arm over the tray, making the tea and sandwiches vanish and then he flipped over the  tray, revealing a picture of Zelda taped to  the  bottom  of the tray, “she would try to use it on you.”
Zelda took a step back, her hand over mouth. When she looked at Letitia, her eyes filled with horror. “Is that why you been nice to me these past few days? To lull me into a false sense of trust?”
Letitia opened her mouth but it was Faustus spoke first. “No, I don’t even want to look at you now! Get upstairs!”  Letitia left in a huff and Faustus took a shaken Zelda into his arms.
Meanwhile, Letitia wasn’t in her room long before she had a visitor.
“What the heaven were you trying to do down there?”
Letitia turned and saw Prudence standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. “Where did you come from?” Letitia asked.
“I was in the attic, hanging out with Ambrose. I was just leaving with I saw Father running down the stairs, I followed him and I heard the whole ugly scene. Did you really try to put Sister Zelda under a Cargarli spell?”
Letitia shrugged. “So, what if I did?”
Prudence shook her head. “That’s not good enough, this time. Your other spells were childish and annoying but a Cargarli spell is dangerous and traumatic to those who already were under it as Zelda and Father both were. As a girl, you should stay away from that spell.”
“You know, as a girl, I was raised a different way.”
“Yes, and you know it was wrong, or you wouldn’t have run away. Letitia, you have to let go of this anger and stop pushing away the ones that love you the most.”
“Judith! My name is Judith and why do you care so much about Zelda Spellman? She’s not your mother, either.”
“No, she isn’t,” Prudence agreed.  “But if I had to choose my own mother, I would pick Zelda every time.”
Letitia scoffed. “I bet my mother was the better stepmother.”
“Before or after she tried to kill me?”  Prudence raised her voice, disturbing Cordelia. Prudence went to the crib and patted the baby’s belly. “Sorry, Cordy, we’ll keep it down.”
Letitia, however, wanted to continue the fight. “I see, it’s wrong when my mother tries to kill you, but it’s perfectly alright when Zelda Spellman actually kills my mother?”
Prudence sighed and rolled her eyes. “For the last time, Zelda did not kill Constance.”
“How would you know?”
“I know because I helped Zelda with the delivery, the night you and Judas were born.”
Letitia looked confused. “You were there?”
“How did you not know that? You said you preformed a memory spell. What did you do, you didn’t like the 1st memory so you ended the spell early?” 1 look and Prudence knew. “Oh, Hecate, that’s exactly what happened.”
“So?”
“So, doing a memory spell for 1 memory is as foolish as reading only 1 chapter in a book and then claiming you know the whole plot. You can continue to be an angry, misinformed girl or you can do another memory spell and face reality. The choice is yours, little sister.”
A week later, Zelda awoke in the middle of the night, to the sound of crying. Since it was her turn, Zelda took extra care not to wake Faustus as she slipped out of their bed and tiptoed down the hall and into the nursery. As Zelda got nearer to the crib, the little nightlight let Zelda see that Cordelia was sound asleep. The baby was not the 1 crying in this room.
“Zelda?” The redhead turned to see Letitia in bed, tears shining all over her face.
“I’m sorry, I thought Cordelia needed me. I’m going.”
Letitia sat up and reached out to grab Zelda’s wrist. “No, please. Don’t go.”
Despite herself, Zelda’s heart jumped with hope. “You want me to stay with you?”
Letitia nodded. “Yes, but I feel like I don’t have the right to ask you to stay. In fact, you could demand that I get out of your house right now and I wouldn’t even   blame you.” Letitia started to cry again as she buried her head into her hands. “I’m so ashamed!”
Zelda sat down beside her on the cot. “Slow down, child,” Zelda gently wiped away the tears. “Now, what bought all of this on?”
She told Zelda all about her fight with Prudence and how she just quit after just 1 memory.
Zelda nodded understandingly. “So, you went back and took a look at all your father’s memories.”
“Not only his but yours too. That why it took me all week long. You didn’t need to help me but you did. You didn’t need to love me but you did. And to repay you, I was an utter jerk to you.” Letitia started to cry again and Zelda took her stepdaughter in her arms. “I just don’t know how I’m ever going to make this to you.”
“You already have. You are letting me hold you, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. All the rest is water under the   bridge.”
Letitia sniffed as she moved to hug Zelda around the waist.  “You’re so wonderful. Why are you so wonderful?”
Zelda placed a kiss into Letitia’s raven hair. “I love you. I may have only have given birth to Cordelia but I love all you children.”
“You’re not at all what Fath, I mean the curse, said you were. But he lied a lot. He always blamed me for killing my mother but I learned quite surprisingly, that I was born first.”
They sat and talked for over an hour. Suddenly, Zelda felt a presence over them. She smiled; Faustus must have heard them over the baby monitor. Zelda looked up and her smile faded.  The man before her wasn’t her husband; it was the hell minion. 
“Ms. Spellman, you have to come with me. Something’s wrong with Lilith.”
“Now?! It’s the middle of the night.”
“Go,” Encouraged Letitia, “We’ll talk tomorrow.” Zelda stroked her cheek, got up, and went with the hell minion.
Lilith was lying on her side, moaning in pain when the minion led Zelda into Lilith’s bedchamber.
“What wrong with her?” the minion asked once Zelda had a chance to examine the patient.
Zelda looked up, annoyed. “Nothing. She’s just having a baby, right now.”
“No!” Lilith cried. “It’s too soon!”
“What do you mean? You’re due in less than a week.”
“I mean for me! I don’t want to die!”
Zelda sighed. Up to the bitter end, Lilith’s pregnancy was all about her. It was a long and difficult labor. In her long career as a midwife, Zelda had seen her fair share of stubborn mothers, but Lilith was the worst. She constantly screamed at Zelda to stop the labor and Zelda tried numerous times to explain that her body was preparing itself for the birth, whether Lilith liked it or not. By early evening, Lilith was delivering.
“Push!”  ordered Zelda.
“No! I am not giving birth!”
“You have to! The head is already out!” Despite Lilith fighting her all the way, Zelda soon delivered the rest of the child. “It’s a boy!” She announced, “born at 5:40 pm on August 10th.”
Lilith said nothing but only took a glance from Zelda to tell that Lilith was not happy. Zelda felt sorry for the infant was she cut the cord, cleaned him up, and swaddled him in a blanket. “Come with me, sweet boy.” Zelda bounced the baby gently as she crossed the room and put the babe in Lilith’s arms. Lilith beheld her son for the very 1st first time, a strange expression on her face.
Lilith looked up at Zelda. “Get me out of here.” And it still all about her. Zelda sighed, rolled her eyes, and started to turn away but Lilith grabbed her sleeve. “Okay, forget about me. You got to get him out of here, I beg of you.” And there it was. For months and months, Zelda had tried to see any little maternal instinct in Lilith, any little sign to prove Lilith cared for the life inside of her. However, as the pregnancy progress, all Lilith did was complain about how uncomfortable she was and how her delay of execution was drawing closer. But now, she was begging Zelda to get the baby to safety, with or without her. Lilith was prepared to make a sacrifice, a mother’s sacrifice. At that moment, Zelda knew what she had to do.
“Ok, I’m going to get you both out of here. But you have to help me by doing what I say. Now, scream!”
“Scream?”
“Yes. If you scream, Lucifer will think you’re still in labor and that will buy us some extra time.”
So, Lilith screamed and Zelda ran around, readying both mother and child. She bought Lilith slippers and a robe. Then both witches grabbed the baby and teleported.
“Penny dreadful for your thoughts, my dear?”
Letitia looked up to see her father smiling down at her.
Faustus handed his daughter a mug of hot chocolate and sat across from her in the living room. “Are you okay? Aside from telling us about the memory spells and where Zelda went to, you barely said a word all day.”
Letitia smiled, “I’m fine, just thinking. The memory spells made me see that most of my life was a lie.”
“How I wish I could be there for you.”
“We’re together now, that’s what matters,” His daughter said sensibly. “Besides, what I really been thinking about is my name.”
“You name?”
She nodded. “I now understand why you all call me Letitia, I do, but after 16 years, I got used to the name Judith, but I think I’ve reached a compromise.”
Faustus raised an eyebrow. “A compromise? On your name?”
She smiled. “Yes. Father, what do you think of LJ?”
“LJ, huh? I like it. Trendy.” That made her laugh, “LJ Blackwood.”
LJ frowned. “Actually, after all, I learned about our family’s past and the curse, I would prefer LJ Spellman but considering what I put them through, I don’t think the family would agree.”
“I love it and I think the Spellmans will too.”
They both looked up as Zelda and Lilith holding her baby appeared before them. Zelda stepped forward. “Okay, something happened.” Zelda quickly explained what was going on and then the family spent the next 2 hours preparing the house for an attack. 3 hours later, Lucifer showed up.
“LILITH! WHERE ARE YOU?!”
Zelda told Lilith to take the baby and go up to the nursery and look after Cordelia as well.
“Don’t worry, guys. He can’t get in here. I put the magic locks on myself.” Ambrose said proudly.
Everyone heard a loud crack and the dark lord appeared in the huge hole in what used to be the Spellmans front door.
Ambrose gulped. “Never mind.”
They tried to fend him off but they were pushed aside with a wave of Lucifer’s hand. He climbed the stairs to the nursery. When the family caught up with him, they all saw the was no sign of Lilith or her newborn.
“WHERE MY SON?!” Lucifer demanded. Before anyone could say anything, a baby’s gurgle was heard and Lucifer’s attention turned to Cordelia.
“No!!” Zelda cried. After magically throwing Zelda into a wall, Lucifer picked up Cordelia.
“She’s not my son, but she’ll do until you give me my son.” Cordelia opened her eyes and cried. Her cry was so powerful, it was like a sound wave, Lucifer dropped her immediately, was pushed across the hallway, downstairs, out the ruined door and onto the lawn. Zelda ran in and picked up her daughter. After Lucifer dropped her, Cordelia landed back in her crib, unharmed, and giggled.
Zelda hugged her baby. “Thank Hecate you’re alright.”
“Nice to know that the mark of the divine is already working,” Faustus added.
“He’s passed out,” Sabrina said as she beheld Lucifer lying on the grass. “That’s good, right? Easier to get him into a cell.”
“Yeah, cuz, but he won’t stay there long. You know, we need a body to trap him in.” Ambrose sighed and got an idea. “Blackwood would be perfect for the job. Too bad we don’t know where he is.”
From her place beside Sabrina, LJ smiled. “You might not know where he is, but I do.”
Faustus wouldn’t let LJ come with him to go get Blackwood, so they worked together to draw a detailed map, then LJ stayed behind to babysit Cordelia. Meanwhile, Zelda and the others rushed to get Lucifer into chains. They even spelled him to stay out cold longer. Zelda then went upstairs to take a nap. After all, she had been up for over 53 hours.
When Hilda woke her up, she had news. “Faustus found Blackwood.”
The sisters ran downstairs and sure enough, both were there. Everyone helped with the soul transfer and Ambrose had a bonus spell to send them to hell. Later, the family went home.  Faustus said he had to go get Judas. The other Spellmans went into the kitchen, while Zelda went upstairs to check on Cordelia.
“NO!”
The others could hear Zelda’s cry and they ran upstairs only to find Zelda crying on the floor of the nursery. 
Zelda looked up and held out a letter. “I found this in the crib.”
Hilda took the letter and the more she read, the whiter she got.
“What is it, Auntie?” asked Sabrina.
Hilda looked up. “Faustus never found Blackwood. He searched all over the hideout but there was no sign of Blackwood or Judas.
“But we just saw them together.”
Hilda nodded. “Faustus knew that we couldn’t hold Lucifer for long, so after looking for Blackwood, Faustus went down to the river, made a man out of mud, used a glamour spell to make it look exactly like him so the mud man could pose as Faustus so Faustus could pose as Blackwood. Saying he was going to get Judas was like code for the spell is over and I’m going back to being mud.”
Ambrose’s head was spinning. “So, the real Faustus is-“
“In hell, with Lucifer.” Sabrina finished.
“He saved us,” Hilda said.
As the others talked, Zelda got up and left the room.
“Where are you going, Zelds?”
“I’m going to hell and getting my husband back.” Zelda charged down the stairs, the others were at her heels. However, when Zelda opened the magically restored front door, someone fainted into Zelda’s arms; someone they all knew. “Elizabeth?”
“He stole my world” was all Elizabeth Tudor could say before she passed out cold. 
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gifsbysimplysonia · 5 years
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Untitled - Roman Reigns Gladiator FanFic - Prologue?
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GIF by @romanvreigns
So I wrote this TWO YEARS AGO; May 2017. I saw a prompt on the blog of someone I followed at the time and for some reason, it inspired my brain and I remember opening up Word at work and just writing. Of course, as is the case with me 99% of the time, I never followed up on it. 
But I’m reposting it now to see if it piques anyone’s interest? 
I wish you would write a fic where reader is a wealthy Greek who buys a gladiator (Roman and/or the shield) to get him out of the fighting life and she has to rehabilitate him to regular human life and not the life of a man fighting for his life (think feral children/severe abuse victims etc) like he’s so blown away that he can /sit on a chair/ and she has to constantly reassure him that he’s not going back to fight. Mostly fluff and angst. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE! 
In the story, Dexios = Dean Ambrose
Stolen prompt from @savmontreal
Despite the pointed stares and blatant whispers, she’d entered the arena with her head held high.
“Let them talk,” she thought to herself, grinding the teeth in the back of her mouth. She knew the decision to make a public appearance so soon after her husband’s death would draw attention. To choose The Games to appear at would be considered even more audacious. Labels did not bother her; if they did then she would have been broken when they called her a whore on her wedding day. Or she would have collapsed when her husband took to beating her regularly for the looks of desire thrown her way by other men, despite no encouragement from her at all. So when he choked to death while literally raising his hand to her, she did not mourn, not for one second. She stepped over his still warm corpse to pour herself a glass of wine, sat in his chair, and silently wept, thanking the Gods for delivering her from the evil that had been plaguing her behind closed and supposedly respectable doors for far too long.
As she approached his seat, located high above the arena in a place of so called honor, instead of whispers she heard unnatural silence. His peers all watched her now, no doubt wondering how she dared to live her life. She was sure to look each man and meek wife that stood with him in the eye, offer a meaningless bow of her head to feign respect, and then removed her cape, handing it to her servant as she took his place, now her rightful place, and waited for The Games to begin.
To be honest, this was one of the more difficult tasks to pretend to tolerate as the wife of a wealthy Greek. She found The Games deplorable. While some gladiators were volunteers risking life and limb to appear in the arena, most were slaves. The life of a slave was a life she was all too familiar with, and one she swore to never again return to. That familiarity is what made watching The Games so painful for her. As a slave she was stripped of her freedom, of choices, and even her humanity. Many would believe that being removed from her life of slavery by a rich and powerful man meant that this man must have been some kind of hero.
The truth was much blacker, as that man was in no way her liberator. She really just traded one type of prison for another. While prison with him provided her with finer shackles in the form of gorgeous clothes and adornments, an actual bed to sleep in and a table to dine at … nothing belonged to her & he was sure to remind her every chance he got, be it with harsh words, stinging slaps, and worse, if the mood overtook him.
When she was scoffed at and looked down upon, she was not sure how to react. She never dared to believe she would be accepted into this new world, but being accustomed to being ignored, attention was brand new to her, even if it was negative. Being a slave did not mean she did not have a heart, even one as hardened as hers thanks to a lifetime of slavery. She knew her freedom was an illusion, even if all around her did not. Even now, with him gone and no obstacles in her way, she was still a prisoner … of her own doubts and fears. The feel of her nails digging into the soft flesh of her palm brought her back to the present as she contemplated how long she would be haunted and wondering what it would take to break truly free from all she had endured.
The Games had gotten underway while she had become lost in her own thoughts, and as the crowd roared, she turned her attention to the arena. She grimaced as she realized it would soon be time for The Decision to be made. She had been allowed to defer the decision to her former’s 2nd. Normally this would not be allowed, but as Dexios was the only person to ever not show her disdain or cruelty…she suspected he might be the first actual man she would encounter.
Dexios gave her a nod, his unruly brown hair hanging in in his eyes. Despite the fact his hair appeared as a curtain, shielding his eyes from view, Dexios was astute and saw more than others realized. He had noticed the careful way she moved the days after she was beaten, even though He had always been sure to hit her in places where the bruises would not show in public. Dexios caught on to what was happening fairly quickly, and the looks he would throw His way … the way his eyes looked in those moments, she truly believed he was capable of a violence that would sweep him away forever, perhaps into an asylum. But just as quickly as the storm would show in his eyes, Dexios would calm himself and turn his attention to her, taking quiet and almost unnoticeable care of her when he could. That is to say, nobody else would notice, but she certainly did.
Now, he stood to her left, hands one atop the other as he waited on her to pass the decision to him. The crowd roared as one gladiator towered over the other. The soon-to-be winner had the other by a handful of hair, down on his knees, chest heaving and curved up from the blade of a sword, eyes cast downward. The sword at his throat seemed to not affect him at all; this gladiator seemed to be done.
Some unseen force pulled her to her feet, and as she felt the rough wall beneath her own callused fingertips, she felt her brows draw together as she intently stared at the almost defeated gladiator. Why she was willing him to look at her, she did not know. All she knew was that she felt a tugging deep down within her, not only in her gut but on her heart and she needed to see the eyes of this gladiator. As though he heard her thoughts, the nearly beaten man gazed upwards at her. She felt her breath catch; even at this distance, there was something in his eyes, something so familiar…
Dexios hovered closely at her side, waiting for the responsibility of deciding whether this man was to live or die. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his mouth open and turned her head to him. She shook her head no, and her expression must have told him that he was to have no responsibility this day. Her right arm began to raise. She had to swallow the lump in her throat at what she was about to do because she had never done this before. She was not sure what the consequences would be, that she suddenly and without warning stepped in to make this decision, and surely speculation would run rampant. All of her doubts and worry rushed through her head, showing clearly on her face, as she seemed to move in slow motion.
As her eyes raised to the gladiator once more, she bit her lip….and suddenly, he was unleashed. He jerked from his opponent’s slightly lax grip, as that man had been waiting for the decision to be rendered. The long haired man sprang to his feet from his knees, headbutting his opponent under the chin, causing that man to stumble back. He took the opportunity to grab his sword, run and jump into the air, slashing at his opponent, slicing open his adversary’s throat. She gasped as she watched the man fall to the ground amidst the joyous, blood thirsty roar of the crowd. The long haired gladiator threw his sword to the ground forcefully, and when he turned to look at her over his shoulder, his face was angry. She was taken aback at that strong of an emotion being directed her way, but after only a few moments, his face transformed from anger to a more pensive and frustrated nature.
He tore his gaze from hers and looked at the people around him, in the stands, on their feet with hands in the air, cheering. The anger returned as his face gathered and he opened his mouth and let out a bellowing yell. While it served to pull more raucous sounds from the crowd, she was certain it was not meant to be celebratory. His head fell, his long dark hair shrouding him from her as he made his way back to his prison.
“Dexios…” she whispered, reaching out to him. When she turned to look at him, he looked worried.
“Yes, my lady?” Her lips opened but she floundered as she felt the gazes of everyone around her. They had seen her rise from her chair for the first time and almost act as judge & jury. It was unexpected and suspicious and there was no way around it. She did not know what overcame her, or what she was feeling now because she had an urge to go find that gladiator.
“Dexios…”
“My lady, let me escort you,” he offered, giving her his arm to take. She did so, gratefully, as she attempted to work through what had just happened. Once Dexios had her out of the arena, he spoke.
“My lady, I am not certain what inspired your actions today but I fear that you will be the subject of much speculation and possibly retaliation. And though you have not requested, allow me to offer advisement …” His expression was intense and as serious as she ever remembered seeing it. “Think over what you mean to do very very carefully. I know where you come from, and to go down the path you seem to be wanting to follow now….might return you to a life I know you do not want to return to.”
She worried her lower lip with her teeth, weighing his words very carefully and thoughtfully, wringing her hands. Dexios knew her well and she knew he only had her best interest at heart but this feeling inside of her … it could not be ignored.
“Is it possible for me to see him?” she asked, looking up into his face. Dexios sighed heavily, looking down at the ground as he cupped her shoulders. When he looked up, half of a smile touched his lips as he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
“I knew one day your heart would lead us here,” he told her quietly. He took both of her hands in his. “May the Gods be with us on this journey.” He closed his eyes and took two deep breaths. When he opened them, she saw a look in his eyes she had never seen before and it took her breath away. “My lady….follow me.” She trembled slightly as she wrapped her arm around his, but somehow, his large warm hand upon the back of hers calmed her stammering heart. She let him lead her…down this path that was unknown to her but she somehow knew, by Dexios and her own heart, would lead her back to somewhere she knew all too well.
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izzygyrl · 6 years
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Crazy and Crazier {Dean Ambrose x Fiancé!Reader}
Words:1,984
Request Series: You take a hit that was meant for him. 
(It’s nearly 2 AM so hope you like it!)
You were putting on the final pieces of your gear when there was a knock at the locker room door. “Come in.” You said reaching down to grab the last piece of gear you had to put on.
There was a moment of silence before your ears were nearly shattered by a loud wolf whistle. You jumped around to see your fiancé Dean Ambrose gazing at you, his teeth gripping his bottom lip as he bit it. You flushed realizing what set him ablaze.
“Oh stop it you!” You said trying not to smile as you threw your fabric wrist cuffs at him, but he caught them easily. “Well what am I supposed to do when I come in the room and there you are bending over in those tight jeans looking fine as ever?” He said approaching you slowly. You gazed up at him and smiled. “Act like a gentleman?” You suggested.
“But it’s just us!” He said and this is what caused you both to laugh. It was this type of joking that made your relationship that much stronger. You craned your neck to gaze up at the redheaded man and he placed a kiss on your lips. “Fine I’ll be a gentleman.” He said.
Suddenly he got on one knee and took your arm in his large hands. “M’lady I believe you threw these at me. Allow me!” He said holding up your fabric wrist cuffs with your logo on it. You couldn’t help but smile at Dean’s playfulness. He gently took your arm and put your wrist cuffs on you. “Better?” He asked standing up. You nodded a smile on your lips. “Much.”
And you shared another kiss.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door. “Enter.” You said. The head of an attendant popped through looking around and he spotted the two of you. “Oh they told you I might find you here–.” The attendant realizing how that sentence might have sounded to you both cleared his throat. “Um they’re ready for you at the curtain.” He said before disappearing quickly.
You and your fiancé couldn’t help but laugh together. “Ready to go?” You asked. Dean being Dean pretended to think “I’m forgetting something..OH!” He said. He then angled his elbow and offered it to you. “M’Lady. If you will give me the honor-.”
“Oh hush up you goofball!” You said slipping your arm through his and shoving him slightly. He chuckled and together you walked out the locker room.
Together you walked down the hall heading towards the backstage area. Dean had a match against the Miz tonight. You were accompanying him to the ring. Miz was to be accompanied by his wife Maryse to ringside that evening.
Together you walked out to the black curtain. Looking to the sound guy Dean gave the thumbs up to start the music.
Just then Dean’s music started and the crowd started to cheer like crazy. Dean rolled his neck before strutting out with you beside him.
“Ladies and gentleman please welcome to the ring, accompanied by his fiancé (Y/N), DEAN AMBROSE!” The announcer said.
“Don’t they just make the cutest couple?” Mauro Ronallo asked the others at the table.
“Yeah crazy and crazier!” Byron Saxton said.
Miz and Maryse were already in the ring. You glared at the blond women her flashy outfit hurting your eyes. You then looked at Miz and wish you had stayed looking at Maryse. He was wearing an even flashier outfit.
Figures.
As you walked down the ramp to the ring with Dean the crowd cheered. You saw a few congrats signs and couldn’t help but smile at the thought that the WWE Universe was happy for you and Dean.
As you finally got to the ramp you walked around to the left avoiding Maryse giving her a glare. You were the sane to Dean’s insanity. The ice to his fire. The ying to his yang. You were there to support him and balance him.
You gave Dean a reassuring smile before he hopped up onto the apron and went in between the ropes. You stalked and paced back and forth watching the Miz and Maryse with glaring eyes.
“This match is scheduled for a one fall for the intercontinental championship.” The announcer yelled. Then the bell rang.
Both men didn’t start immediately but rather began to size each other up then they went at it. Miz ran to the other side of the rope leaning and lunging towards Dean. Dean ducked under Miz’s attempted clothesline while Miz tried to correct his move. You clapped cheering on Dean.  
The match started off well for Dean was getting the upper hand when suddenly things changed.
Somehow Miz had managed to get Dean to his knees and was now doing Daniel Bryan’s “Yes” kicks while the audience screamed NO you along with them.
You winced each time Miz’s boot connected with Dean chest and made sure to check on Dean afterwards. On the fifth kick Dean fell flat onto the mat.
“Come on baby!” You yelled encouragement to Dean. “You’ve got this Dean!” You said. The crowd behind you cheered.
“And Dean’s fiancé, (Y/N) giving him encouragement throughout this matchup.” Mauro Ranallo commenting to the people watching at home.
Dean then popped back up onto his hands and knees and back on his knees dazed and one again Miz gave another kick that sent Dean reeling back onto his back. It made your blood boil, as you craned your neck to check to see if he was okay.
However Dean though he seemed dazed kept getting back onto his knees. “Come on Dean you’ve got this!” You said banging your hand against the canvas. The crowd noticed and started to clap along. Dean gazed at you and you gave him a reassuring smile.
Seven more “no” kicks from the Miz with Dean just sitting there taking it. Dean then started to wobble. You were worried. He might be too far gone. But you weren’t sure. You knew that wasn’t like him to give up too soon in the game.
Suddenly Miz ran at the other side of the ropes and lunged towards Dean ready to give him a huge no kick when Dean flopped forward narrowly avoiding a harsh blow from Miz and grabbed his legs going in for the pin.
You let out a cry of “YES DEAN!” As he pinned the Miz but Miz kicked out after two. But now you could see Dean was getting that look in his eyes. “You’ve got this baby!” You screamed. He glanced over to you and gave you one of his signature sexy smirks and you clutched the ropes so you wouldn’t fall.
Dean then went in and kicked the Miz in the leg distracting him and got him ready for Dirty Deeds wanting to end this but Miz was able to wriggle free.
Miz then went in for a right hook but Dean caught it and delivered four good right hooks of his own however was cut short when Miz elbowed him in the gut.
Both men went stumbling back to their own corners. You rushed to Dean staying on the floor. “You can do it Dean!” You said. “You’re wearing him-.” But suddenly Miz came running at Dean for he meant to fake the stumble out however Dean saw it coming and fell to the mat pulling the rope down and Miz fell over  the rope nearly on top of you but you ran out of the way just in time.
“You okay baby?” Dean called. You nodded. He gave a curt nod before setting his sights back on the Miz. He was fired up now. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet leaning agains the rope and then standing erect and hopping on the balls of his feet once more watching as Miz lay on the floor. You saw Maryse trying to come around to see the Miz but you stopped her with a glare when she came too close for comfort.
“You better move aside sweetheart.” Dean then called to you. Looking up you saw him running away from you towards the other ropes before he began to fly towards you. You realized what he was gonna do and leapt out of the way just in time to avoid getting hit by a suicide dive by Dean.
Both men went tumbling to the ring floor. Dean was the first to recover and he quickly got Miz back into the ring. He then began to set the Miz up for Dirty Deeds  but Miz flipped it and got Dean into a headlock.
That’s when Dean flopped to the floor and put his legs up tripping Miz and bringing him to the floor pinning him.
ONE
TWO
THREE!!!!
The bell rung.
“Here is your winner and the new inter continental champion- DEAN AMBROSE!” The crowd roared with appreciation.
You let out a shill cheer of excitement as you realized that in the blink of an eye everything had changed. You hopped up and down in excitement as Dean was handed the belt and his arm was raised.
You slid into the ring and ran to him giving him a hug and the crowd cheered even more.
You tore away from Dean and that’s when you saw it.
It was almost like in slow motion. You saw the apron skirt flipped onto the canvas and saw Maryse sliding her husband a steel chair.
You didn’t realize what they were doing until Miz was running at you the chair over head head ready to come down on Deans head.
Without thinking you cried out “NO!”
And pushed Dean to the ropes.
And the chair came down on top of you.
And the world went black.
“Oh no look out-OH MY GOD!” Jerry Lawler said as he watched in horror as Miz came at you and Dean with a chair only to see the chair crash down hard on you as you pushed Dean out the way.
Dean fell back against the ropes in shock and confusion and then he saw you fall to the floor, the sound of the smack of the chair hitting your body ringing in his ears.
You lay lifeless in the ring Miz standing over you, it dawning on him that you weren’t Dean. He then looked to his left and saw Dean.
And Dean was angry. His face was contorted with rage. He ran at Miz and grabbed the chair that Miz was trying to raise again to hit him with, but Dean grabbed it in midair and ripped it away from the Miz and flung it towards the outside of the ring.
He then screamed in the Miz’s face.
What happened next was so fast.
One minuet he’s screaming
BAM
Dirty Deeds.
Miz pops up and rolls towards his wife who’s on the other side of the ring. He rolls out and together they walk towards the ramp, Maryse helping her husband along. Dean all the while is glaring at them with a fire in his eyes that seemed unquenchable.  
After Dean was sure that Miz wasn’t coming back he rushed to your size falling to his knees cradling you in his arms. You were coming around. “Baby can you hear me?” He asked. Your eyes fluttered open. “Hiya doll.” He said a relieved smile on his face.
You smiled. “Hi.” You winced in pain as you tried to get up. “Don’t get up baby.” He said. “What were you thinking?!” He asked.
You couldn’t help but smile. “Crazier and crazier. You should know me by now Dean. I wasn’t thinking.” You said. “It was instinctual.” You said.
You fiancé shook his head. “I love you.” He said.
“And I you.” You said.
And with that the new inter-continental champion helped you sit up and get you to the back.
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shiftyskip · 7 years
Text
Ronald “Ron” Speirs
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The Real Ronald Speirs
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Ronald Charles Speirs was born April 20, 1920 in Edinburg, Scotland to Robert and Martha Speirs. Hitler was also born on April 20, a few years earlier. Speirs knew this fact and he liked to joke about it later in life. His father was a Scottish Engineer. Speirs and his family moved to the United States during the Great Depression. According to Ancestry, he had an older sister Dorothy and an older brother Robert.
 He grew up in Boston, attended high school there, took drill during school and Citizens Military Training Camps during the summers. He graduated in 1938. Not much is known about his childhood.
He was originally drafted but was given two months to finish extension courses. He was on active duty at Camp Shelby, Mississippi. He volunteered for the Airborne. Speirs was one of the original Toccoa men under Sobel. 
When Easy traveled to England, Speirs traveled to Winchester to set up a camp for another Infantry division. There he met a British widow serving with the British Army’s Auxiliary Territorial Service division. They were married and had a son, Robert, soon after.
The woman’s husband had been presumed dead after disappearance. He was actually being held as a POW. He showed up towards the end of the war. It was eventually decided that she and Speirs would split up and she would return to her former husband. During the HBO, Speirs is seen rummaging through loot to send back to his wife and son. This seems to be accurate, according to other veterans. Speirs kept contact with his son throughout his life. His son would eventually become a major in the Royal Green Jackets Regiment. Speirs would visit his son and his three grandchildren in England later on in life.
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Speirs jumped into Normandy with D Company on D-Day. His company would serve heavy losses. Speirs was injured in the face and knee by a grenade. He was taken back to England to recover from his injuries before returning to his unit before they jumped into Holland.
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In Holland, Speirs was the Intelligence officer for Colonel Robert Strayer and his battalion. One night, Speirs had the Neder Rhine by himself to locate where the enemy was. He was spotted and the Germans opened fire on him. He dove into the water but had been struck by a bullet in his butt (what would become known as the million-dollar wound). He swam back to shore and was later found, wounded and too exhausted to move from the shore. He brought back critical information and was given the Silver Star for his mission.
He was sent to recover once again and later rejoined Easy in France before Battle of the Bulge. He wrote a letter to Stephen Ambrose about his experience in Bastogne. “There had been an attack through the trees before we arrived and they caught a number of Germans. The bodies were frozen, so there was no stench. I turned one over, an artillery forward observer, and found an excellent pair of binoculars around his neck.......We had one firefight where a platoon sergeant was killed next to me.....He fell into my arms, but was dead. There was nothing I could do for him.” In another letter to Winters, Speirs writes: “He fell in my arms without a word, probably feeling nothing. Those are the guys I think about 50 years later- why them and not me?”
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In Foy, Easy company was under the command of Captain Dike Dike was considered to be similar to Sobel, but not as tough. He had reportedly “scurried off like a scared rabbit” after the blasts that took Guarnere and Toye started. Dike was the man to be leading the assault across an open field to face the Germans. Winters went through all of his instructions once more and Easy moved out under a covering fire that left them covered in heavy smoke.
Their attack was soon dissolving into chaos. Dike froze behind haystacks and was refusing to lead. Winters, aware of the risk of putting Dike in charge, had decided to watch their assault. Speirs was next to him for an unknown reason, watching this all go to chaos. Winters, angrily grabbed his gun, and declared “I’m going!” to seize control of Easy once more. He had barely moved when he whirled around and instead told Speirs to “take over that company and relieve Dike and take that attack on in.” 
Winters had not prepared to pick Speirs, he just happened to be at the right place at the right time. Winters later recalled he was glad it was Speirs, who he respected as a combat leader. Winters had heard the rumors of Speirs and his killer instincts but Dike needed to be removed. 
Speirs raced off to aid Easy Company. He reached the haystack, shouted at Dike, and took command of Easy. Speirs then raced across open area to locate Easy’s other flank and reorganize them. Germans opened fire on him as he crossed there lines. Once he arranged the company, he raced back through the German lines. 
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Regarding his personality, many rumors flew about Speirs and his violence. Winters regarded him as a killer, Malarkey didn’t like him much because of how violent he could get, and he soon developed a nickname “Killer”. 
Most of the Easy Vets respected him as a combat leader. Many of the men feared Speirs. Although he was respected, it is said some men didn’t like his strict rules and discipline He was dedicated to doing the right thing and was often fearless in the heat of battle. Speirs wrote in a letter to Winters in 1992 that he didn’t expect to survive the war, so that might have fueled his actions as well. 
The stories of Speirs’ and his violent streak toward his own men. It was rumored he shot a sergeant because he was drunk. While Speirs did not deny shooting the man, Winters later wrote that the shooting went beyond being drunk. The sergeant had ignored a command from Speirs to halt twice. The men were under heavy fire near Saint Côme-du-Mont. Orders were to halt due an artillery attack planned on the city where German were. The men were to follow up the artillery attack. When the sergeant didn’t stop, he was risking the lives of the men. Speirs took out his gun and shot the man. Some veterans told that the sergeant had even threatened Speirs with his gun drawn.The man died the the next day in battle so no official report could be carried out. 
One of the most famous stories following his name, there was the incident of Speirs and the POWs on D-Day. There were no eyewitnesses that would confirm the story. Many stories like this have been recorded but it is not sure if Speirs was a part of these numbers for certain. 
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After the battle of Foy, “Sparky” Speirs remained in command of Easy until the end of the war. He was the longest commanding officer of Easy. One of the memories from Winters was of Speirs in Berchtesgaden, taking one of Hitler’s staff cars with the bullet-proof windows for a joy ride.
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When the war ended, Speirs continued to serve with the Airborne, just not the 101st. He was placed with 187th Airborne Regimental Combat Team during his service in Korea. He commanded a rifle company during a jump in Pyongyang, the capital of North Korea. 
After the Korean War ended, Speirs served at Fort Bragg, North Carolina as a military secretary for the 18th Airborne Corps Commander Major General Joseph Cleland. 
In 1956, Speirs learned Russian in California before being assigned to Potsdam, East Germany to work as a liaison officer with the Soviet Army. He later became the US governor of Spandau Prison in Berlin in 1958. Spandau held many Nazi war criminals, including Rudolf Hess, Hitler’s deputy. Hess and Speirs would meet almost daily, seemingly gaining a respect for each other.  Not much was said about his duties in the Korean War, with the Soviets, or in Spandau. Speirs would never talk much about these experiences. 
In 1962, Speirs was a training officer in Laos, Southeast Asia, with a government mission with the Royal Lao Army. Finally, Speirs worked in the Pentagon as a plans officer until he retired with the rank of lieutenant colonel in 1964.
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Around 1984, Speirs met a lady named Eloise. She had recently been widowed and her three children lived far away from her home California. She met Speirs at a singles square dance and in November 1987, they were married. Her son, Marv, did not know Speirs well at first but grew to love his step-father after the couple started spending more time in Montana, where he lived. Marv’s brother and sister had children, along with six children with his wife, leaving Speirs to become a grandfather and great-grandfather eventually. His grandchildren would take him on walks, attack him with hugs, and he would do whatever they wanted. 
His family did not know the details of his long military career and he would blame it on his failing memory. It was said that while his later actions blurred together, World War 2 would forever last in his mind. 
Speirs traveled to the premiere of Band of Brothers in France with his wife in 2001. Speirs wasn’t planning on going but his wife told him she was going with or without him, and he chose to go. When reading about how his actions would be displayed in the show and if he was worried, Speirs replied, “I’m eighty-one years old, what can they do to me now?”
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This photo was the first time Winters and Speirs had seen each other in fifty-five years. 
After the event, Speirs started opening up more about his wartime experiences. He even met his granddaughter’s husband, a cadet at West Point who had taken an interest in Speirs. Within their one hour talk, Speirs opened up more about his experiences than he ever had. Perhaps it was to share the experience with someone who was just starting a military career, we may not know why he shared so much but Speirs was able to recall a lot more than his memory knew he had. 
Sadly, even legends come to an end. Speirs last years were rough and he struggled with health issues. He was not officially diagnosed but it is believed he died of Alzheimer’s. His last months were painful to everyone and the family was on call 24/7 to care for him. 
Speirs died April 11, 2007. He was almost eighty-seven years old. 
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