Writing Group: Season of the Witch

Hello, Hexen, Familiars and Satanic Dancers!

Why, you look lost, my dear! Come into my cottage! I’m just setting up a cauldron of, erm, soup! Don’t mind the cat, she does that sometimes, because…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

Season of the Witch

RULES AND GUIDELINES BELOW!
Make sure you scroll down and read them if you haven’t! You may not be eligible if you don’t!

It most certainly is! As October begins, so do the festivities within our writing. Now is the time to bring out your most witchy of characters and stories. Bring out the cauldrons, the brooms, the ramshackle huts with the spires and strangely smoking. Give us full moons, black cats, magic mirrors, and stolen children’s souls…

What is the season of the witch, and why is it named as such? Do witches grow stronger as the days grow shorter, the air colder? 

Perhaps Autumn isn’t the season of the witch; perhaps a kind flower witch grows stronger in the spring. You don’t have to write about a literal season either. Solstices and equinoxes could be times of power for your witches. The time between three and four am is said to be the “Witching Hour” when supernatural creatures are at their most powerful. Walpurgis Night could also be a very fitting direction to take this prompt. The night is named after the Christian Saint Walpurga who is said to have fought against witchcraft. But the night is also said to be a time when witches gather on the Brocken to hold a sabbath. Whether you are for or against witches, it’s certainly a time for them. 

The story of Hansel and Gretel was inspired by a real and terrible famine. Perhaps the season of the witch is not necessarily one in which magic is stronger, but instead one in which the fear and desperation of the world at large leaves children vulnerable to witches, or the terrible things their mothers might do to them themselves…

A witch doesn’t have to be a pointy-hatted, warty-nosed old lady. You could write about a good witch. Perhaps your story takes place in a fantasy world where male magic users are also referred to as witches too. 

You could take this prompt in a more comedic and/or cute direction too. Perhaps the season of the witch is like hunting season for deer…except for witches. Maybe it’s the season of a tv show in which a witch features prominently. You could write about a teenager going through her “witch phase.” Or perhaps it is the season when the baby familiars are born, and it is time for a young witch to pick out a baby raven, or frog, or cat.

When things go wrong, people start to look for someone to blame. There have been many times in history when witches have been the wolf that angry mobs have cried. When someone—particularly a woman—has unorthodox views, or is outspoken, or simply seems a little off, their town often comes with torches. Perhaps this is not a season of power for witches, but instead one of fear and unrest in which they are persecuted. 

In our modern day, even if someone is not directly accused of being an actual witch, they still could serve as scapegoat, and be accused of doing something they didn’t do. After all, witch hunts can be held when there is no actual witch…

Yes, very good choice. One of my favorite dishes on the menu. And, how would you like your witch seasoned?

—Kaylie

Remember, this is part of our weekly Writing Group stream! Submit a little piece following the rules and guidelines below, and there’s a chance your entry will be read live on stream! In addition, we’ll discuss it for a minute and give you some feedback.

Tune into the stream this Saturday at 3:00pm CST to see if you made the cut!

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Rules and Guidelines

We read at least five stories during each stream, two of which come from the public post, and three of which come from the much smaller private post. Submissions are randomly selected by a bot, but likes on your post will improve your chances of selection, so be sure to share your submission on social media!

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Comments

131 responses to “Writing Group: Season of the Witch”

  1. Lunabear Avatar
    Lunabear

    Silent Endurance (A Song for: Grant)
    by Lunabear

    Grant looked outside again. The moon was nearing her final phase this month, and he was nervous. He wished they would hurry.

    The second he released the curtain, two pounding knocks sounded on the door.

    His heart hopped into his throat like a frightened bunny. He looked heavenward and mouthed a silent prayer.

    Grant’s mother, Irene, speed walked through the parlor. Stopping in front of a mirror, she curled a lock of her hair with one finger. She checked her teeth and popped open the top two buttons of her blouse so that her cleavage was visible.

    Disgust rolled Grant’s stomach, but he stood and moved to stand in front of the door. His hand trembled around his rosary as he welcomed in the night.

    The waiting visitor wore a cloak of violet trimmed in scarlet. A menacing aura pulsated from him.

    Grant swallowed hard. Irene’s firm hands came to rest upon his thin, shaking shoulders.

    “Please, Protector, won’t you come in?” There was a smoky flirtatiousness to her voice.

    The being glided over the threshold, its hood swaying briefly.

    “Thank you.” In the light, milky red eyes in a pallid, angular face were revealed. Pale, blond hair barely hid his pointed ears.

    Grant sought his mother’s gaze, but she was observing their guest with a wide smile.

    A glacial band secured around Grant’s wrist, and his breath halted. Grant locked eyes with the vampire.

    Grant always hated this part.

    Piercing fangs left Grant whimpering. The vampire pulled deeply from his veins. A neurotoxin was supposed to make the sensation pleasurable, but Grant never felt it. Instead, he lost himself within his mind, hoping it would end soon.

    “I was unaware you smoked,” the creature chided as he moved away. His frowning mouth was tight.

    Irene’s hands tightened painfully. Grant winced as his rosary dug deeply into his clenched palm.

    “There’s formidable magic in your veins, child. I suggest you receive aid from the local coven to better strengthen it.” The vampire handed over a small stack of money.

    Irene pocketed it greedily.

    “Next time, there will be severe consequences.”

  2. A.W. Blackstone Avatar
    A.W. Blackstone

    Aiden’s Nightmare Brew
    By A. W. Blackstone

    Aiden awoke shivering naked with manacles around his hands and feet. He raised his hands to his neck. A metal collar with a long chain was attached to the bars of the cage he was in. Aiden, bleary eyed, could only make out the table next to the cage with all his items strewn over it, just out of reach. His vision slowly adjusted to the dimly lit room. Where was he?

    The walls were lined with bookshelves floor to ceiling all except the wall to his right. A six foot long alchemy table had flasks, crystals, and some pink and purple liquid bubbling in a beaker. Aiden hears rattling at a small desk in the farthest corner and a voice, “Where is it?” He sees someone stand up and stomp over to the alchemy table, dropping a bright red orb into the beaker. Smoke billows out, making Aiden cough. “You’re finally awake. Perfect timing. I just finished my concoction,” the mysterious man said with pride.

    “Who are you? What am I doing here?” Aiden pleaded. He could remember nothing.

    “Me? I’m no one of importance… just an anonymous witch. You? You’re my test subject for my experimental new potion.” The man pours the potion into a flask. “I call this Terran Brandy. Made from the finest fae souls.” He jerks the collar’s chain, pulling Aiden to the bars and forces the potion down his throat.

    Aiden’s muscles relax right before agonizing pain shoots through his entire body. He feels his arms and legs stretching out to abnormal lengths and a deep pressure against his tailbone. Aiden feels relief as a tail shoots out with a pop. His skin has become so pale, he appears translucent.

    “So you became a Chitterbox? Not what I expected since I used a different fae for the brandy.” The witch puts his hand on his chin in contemplation. “Perhaps it has to do with the recipient and their resonance with the fae energy?” He rushes over to his desk, scribbling notes furiously as he talks to himself, completely ignoring Aiden’s screams for death.

  3. Maxer4000 Avatar
    Maxer4000

    Tale of the crimson witch

    Have you heard a little tale known as the Crimson Witch? No? ‘Ight, strap yer arses in and grab a pint, let me tell ya how it goes.

    Once upon a time there was a tavern, a dreadful place really, a gather of bandits and crooks alike, where all debaucheries of all kind took place, this is where our story starts. One day, a young girl, clad in a red hood comes by the tavern, tired and hungry, unfortunately there’s only the tavern willing to take her in. Now tell me, a young girl in the den of evil like that, how would ya bet she’d last? Three days, name an abuse, she went through it, I’d list out what they did but barman threatened to stop serving the last time I told the story. Anyway… Used and battered, the girl in her last breath cursed these crooks that they’ll never leave this place. It was good, they hardly ever want to leave… “hardly”. When the first left, they popped… into a cloud of red mist. More came in but hardly anyone wanted out.

    Soon, food and drink began to run dry, they turned on each other, some decided to run, all joined the red mist outside. Eventually, there was no one left, the tavern soon crumbled to rubbles, only the mist remains. Some says that even now, the red mist would appears, and you can hear the sound of desperation of the criminal long past, begging for their sufferings to end.

    Yeah nah, that’s a whole load of bollocks we made up in order to cover up the red mist incident that we caused. The real horror is when we done with spreading that tale, we didn’t have the money to pay the Labor Union. Ya would not believe the stress we suffered through when the people responsible for yer meal breathing down yer neck. What? Yes, the tavern was real, it just so happened crime syndicates and gangbangers like going there to discuss businesses. Ya know what the funniest thing bout all this? It was from a bet.

    1. What an interesting, if not morbid tale of a poor young girl who dies tragically only to get her revenge in such a brutal way. Wasn’t sure how the whole thing was going to wrap up. Can’t say I expected such a flippant plot twist at the end.
      I think your usage of certain words to make the tale more vivid and highlight the cruelty of the situation truly made it more compelling and draws the reader in. Great job and keep writing.

  4. Why is it winter?
    By Vera

    The name of the Goddess isn’t known, everyone just calls her The Witch. What was done to her isn’t known, either, she was just angry. In her eternal anger, she declared
    “Darkness shall rule the land, no light shall it see, no warmth shall it experience for eternity”

    In this endless dark winter, the other gods wept for humanity, though they were powerless against one of their own. All they could do was to imbue an ordinary well with their power, thus creating the well of wishes. This power had to be used by humans, otherwise it couldn’t break the witch’s curse.

    The Witch saw the gods’ work and got worried. While the ancient law of the gods protected her from meddling by her own kind, the law didn’t apply to humans using divine artefacts.

    “The well of wishes will fulfill any of your wishes” she told the humans. “However, only one. Give away your wish for the gods’ pointless endeavor, and whatever you wish for will be denied. Riches, power, happiness, whatever you want, you can get. Don’t let them manipulate you into giving up your wishes”

    The humans decided to stay out of the conflict of the gods. The well, however, wasn’t meant to fulfil human wishes.

    Humans who wished for riches, lost their ability to appreciate anything that they didn’t consider valuable, instead they received an irresistible drive to accumulate more wealth.

    Those who wished for power, became power-hungry, as if they were hollow without more power than there was in the world.

    There was a small group of people who wished for light and warmth, for the witches curse to end. It wasn’t enough, though, with only a small number of humans, the well couldn’t end the curse, only weaken it for a while.

    The witches curse of darkness and the wells magic have been fighting ever since. Once a year the curse strengthens, causing the sun to disappear for a whole season, the season of the witch. Then it weakens, the light reappears, until darkness and cold disappear for the season of the gods.

    1. Donovan Avatar
      Donovan

      I like how you went for an etiological myth, like Persephone and Demeter. Humans being the ones ultimately responsible for the change in seasons though is an interesting modern twist. The idea that the world is colder and darker when people are more selfish, and returns to summer when people are more generous has a nice ring to it, and it really cements the fable feeling, as though it’s a story your grandmother would tell to encourage you to not be selfish.

  5. WriterOfThought Avatar
    WriterOfThought

    Ecclesiastes 3:1
    By WriterOfThought

    No one ever knows how long their season will be, or when it will happen, but we all have one. Some even have many seasons, but there is nobody who doesn’t have at least one season. Or at least, that is what Tabitha had always been told.

    She both dreaded and eagerly awaited her sixteenth birthday for this very reason, sixteen being when one is typically called to serve a season, but there are always exceptions. Her older sister told stories of someone who had her season at age eight, and her brother tried to scare her with stories of someone whose season wasn’t until they were eighty, and at school several of her friends had already served a season as Town Witch, but rules forbade them from telling her what it was like to serve a season.

    The midnight passed, and she went from 15 to 16, and no knock occurred at the door. No letter appeared under the gap between the frame and the floor. She didn’t feel any different, except perhaps for being a bundle of nerves about to erupt.

    A tap occurred at the window, and she nearly screamed from the tension in her muscles. A small, black cat with a green collar stared at her from the other side, silently asking to be let in. Tabitha stared back, wondering if maybe he was a sign of her season. Cautiously she opened the window, and he walked in. There was a note tied to his collar.

    “Formal announcement declaring the season of Tabitha Cunning to begin All Hallows Eve” is what it declared on the front side. The back side contained the town seal and a vague list of instructions, the oddest one being “listen to the cat”.

    She looked at the sable colored feline and it stared back at her. Tabitha wasn’t sure what to make of the instruction, or the cat.

    “If it helps,” the cat spoke, “I don’t know what to make of you, either.” Tabitha dropped the note, and she understood.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That title was incredibly clever. I love the reference and how it is used. The whole build-up of tension is also quite gripping – will she be called? Will something happen? Will this be just another day, but marked by the tension and anxiety of waiting?

      And well, then the tension is released, and we are left with a mystery. Perhaps, the same we have before, how is it that a witch serves her season? And why are the others not allowed to talk about it?

      Interesting questions!

      1. WriterOfThought Avatar
        WriterOfThought

        I do wish the limit would have been larger so I could go into what a season entailed as I envisioned, but the mystery works just as well, but I’m glad of this reaction. The reader being left with the same questions as Tabitha was actually the intent. Thank you!

    2. Really cool take on the prompt. I like that her family messed with her before her big day. The mystery is really well teased and it’s clear enough to leave me wanting more. I’m not confused just curious. The cat reading her thoughts is a really nice touch. It’s unclear wether or not he can actually read her thoughts or she’s just being an open book and I like that. Well done.

    3. Donovan Avatar
      Donovan

      Interestingly enough (to me anyways) based on the title and set-up, I was totally expecting her to not be chosen, which is weird because of course she gets chosen, what would the story be otherwise? The opening though really put me in that mindset of preparing for failure and calming your nerves with grand statements and platitudes, possibly the same mindset as the character. Clever.

    4. Honestly this sounds like a great start to a book. I hope we get to see more of Tabitha and this world in future stories.

      Small critique: I don’t know if four words would have helped elsewhere, but I think ending “rules forbade them from telling her what it was like to serve a season” would have sounded better if you ended it at “like”.

  6. MasaCur Avatar
    MasaCur

    Graduation
    By MasaCur

    Erykah paced along the backstage, looking over her notes. Nearby, Willow was playfully kicking her feet as she sat.

    “Erykah, you look like you’re going to blow an artery or something.” Willow said. “You really should relax.”

    “I can’t relax! This is a big deal!”

    “You just have to make one speech. I’m the master of ceremonies. You’ll be fine.” Willow pulled out a pocket watch. “Speaking of which, I’m on.”

    Erykah nodded and kept going over her notes, as her friend went on stage. As she recited what she wrote down, she heard Willow say her name.

    “I’d like you to welcome our top graduating student and my good friend, Erykah Toadbarrow.”

    Erykah winced at her last name. It was embarrassing. She should drop it. She walked meekly out on stage and adjusted the brim of her pointed hat.

    “Hello students and faculty of Stromrose Academy of Magic, and honored guests.” Her dusky green skin darkened with embarrassment. “You may have noticed, I’m an orc. That probably doesn’t seem so weird now, but I was literally in the first class with female orcs to be admitted to this school. And a week after I attended, no one seemed to notice. Not once have I been treated differently than any of the other witches and warlocks attending class here. So, imagine my surprise that I am now the first Orc to graduate top of my class, and I was all, ‘Oh yeah, I guess that’s a thing.’”

    Erykah was relieved that her comment was met with laughter.

    “I have made some great friends here over the past few years. It’s been great. And now we close this chapter of our lives, and move on to the next one. Many of us have been admitted to advanced magic academies. Others will turn to finding employment as hedge witches or magical supply, or something along those lines. But I wish this class of new witches and warlocks the best in forging their way into the world. This is a big step for us, and I, for one, look forward to it.”

    1. I like the interaction between Erykah and Willow. I think Erykah’s nerves as the first female orc to graduate top of her class makes a lot of sense. There’s a certain pressure being the first in anything. Erykah’s reaction to her name was funny, but it’s something I completely understand and relate to personally. The school itself sounded pretty sick. A neat piece.

    2. Is this the same Erykah from last week? Only questioning because of the orc thing.

      But the orc thing makes me remember I’ve read at least two others with Erikah. One, I think, had her human glamor fading?

      Anyway. Neat story. I admit I thought she was green because of a “wicked witch of the west – witches are green” thing. So the orc part really caught me off guard.

      I do have one critique though. I think it would sound better as “faculty, students, and honored guests of Stromrose Academy of Magic”

    3. A.W. Blackstone Avatar
      A.W. Blackstone

      I like the juxtaposition of informal vs formal speech between Willow and the audience. Wasn’t expecting an orc.

      Only criticism is this line sounds off conversationally: “I was literally in the first class with female orcs to be admitted to this school.”

      Maybe “I was one of the first female orcs to be admitted into this school.” ?

  7. Norman Gray Avatar
    Norman Gray

    I, Malice
    By Norman Gray

    She was young. . . Perhaps too young to begin practicing witchcraft. But she was eager to learn.

    The sisters of the coven recounted the night she had been brought in; having no choice but to flay the runes from her flesh to break her bonds, giving her back control of her mind.

    Only after, did she scream. . . Seemingly not from the pain, but the sudden awakening, as the horrid realization started seeping in. They had expected sorrow, but there were no tears, only rage.

    “Mirror,” she’d demanded, and they obliged.

    The reflection confirmed her worst fear: The nightmare had been real. She was years older, and gone was the little girl she remembered.

    They asked for her name.

    “I’m. . . Alice.” She said hesitantly, as if she’d forgotten.

    It wasn’t long before she became interested in the Coven, and the dark arts. The sisters feared for her well-being, worried that she’d put herself in danger if she began too soon, or progressed too quickly.

    So she began without them, sneaking away tomes from the library without their consent. She studied telepathic projection, and quickly harnessed this power, among others.

    Once she was ready to face her fears, Alice displayed her memories for all of the sisters to see:

    They witnessed as she was dragged kicking and screaming into a brothel by her captors, held down next to a fireplace as they extracted the branding iron from the flames, and pressed it to the back of her shoulders; the runes burning into her skin, silencing her screams. No longer could she rebel, only obey. . . And although she became compliant, inside her mind, Alice’s hatred grew.

    Then she showed her sisters things that had not yet come to pass: The brothel in flames. Her captors, screaming as they burned. . .

    They would all burn.

    The sisters of the coven could deny her no longer. She was young. . . But they knew now that her anger would not subside, until her vengeance was fulfilled.

    Gone was her innocence. Now, there was only Malice.

    1. The Missing Link Avatar
      The Missing Link

      Well, that was rather grim. You can definitely understand her rage and desire for revenge. The biggest question is how she came to be in the company of the coven if not ripping her from the brothel themselves. Is it already burned down from that rescue, or did they come across her some other way that the mind control brand would still be there?

    2. Mango Gravy Avatar
      Mango Gravy

      Oh boy. This is dark. Quite fitting, given how witches as a concept in history and literature is closely tied with women’s liberation. That said, I didn’t expect such an unapologetic execution of that theme here. It’s scary how “real” this is, in the sense that if magic was real this is absolutely the sort of thing that people would do with it.

      And I love (M)Alice’s resolve here. It’s tragic that she hasn’t grieved her past, but absolutely understandable given the nature of that past. It’s almost like the reader is a part of the coven. As we learn about her past we only grow more worried for her, but in understanding her better we can truly take her side.

      The brothel must burn, but afterwards I hope the coven has some knowledge on therapy. Great, tragic story.

    3. Cool story. I really like the concept.

      I feel like the narration is a bit off though. Like it’s past and present tense at the same time?

      How did Alice get there though? It doesn’t sound like she could have escaped on her own, and the witches didn’t free her. At least I assume they didn’t because then they’d know about her past. She obviously couldn’t have escaped herself. So is there a third (or fourth) party involved?

      Anyway. This sounds like an interesting world. Is magic really common? It could be fun to explore more of this story/world.

      1. Norman Gray Avatar
        Norman Gray

        I’ll be honest, I don’t really have any good explanations for this story; I started and finished it in a day, and sort of lost sight of it in the process. . . In hindsight I think I shouldn’t have submitted this, it’s a pretty clunky story with some very ugly subject matter.

        In trying to combat a long stretch of writer’s block, every week I find myself determined to have something, anything submitted, not realizing as I wrote this piece that my heart really wasn’t in it. . . Which in hindsight was probably a big contributing factor to my writer’s block in the first place.

        I tend to lose sight of everything I write, and usually as I’m about to submit a story I find myself asking, “Is this any good? Does it even make sense?”

        Then I send it and see what happens. But as I look at it now, I think I would’ve rather shelved this one indefinitely.

  8. Mango Gravy Avatar
    Mango Gravy

    The Brightest of Nights
    By Mango Gravy

    In a lovely little cottage, far from any cities and villages, there lived a mother and daughter.

    An adorable child with raven black hair, the daughter was mere minutes away from turning six. She knelt on the cushioned alcove by the cottage window, staring with wonderment at the outside world; the forest, the tulips, and the pond, all bathed in the silvery light of the full moon. The moon had been full for nearly a year now, shining brilliantly in the cloudless sky, and grew brighter every day. The little girl didn’t know why it was so, but somewhere in the depths of her heart and mind she knew it was her own doing. She smiled a most precious smile at the prospect.

    The mother was a strikingly beautiful woman of middling years. Quite frighteningly beautiful, in fact, with billowing curls and elegantly freckled skin

    None could doubt that they were mother and daughter, though the darkness of the child’s hair stood in stark contrast to her mother’s brilliant red. Should one look into their eyes, however, there would be no doubt. Both had eyes of crimson that shone like the moon reflected in a pool of blood, and both had a similar red eye set in each of their foreheads. Both had a strange wisdom about them, vague yet made clear by those red eyes.

    The mother took her daughter in her arms and all of their eyes met in a wordless exchange. They smiled at each other for a while before they stepped out into the night.

    There they saw a collection of eyes, three, and four, and five, and six, and seven, that glowed in the shadows of the forest. Then, out into the brilliant light of the moon came five women, some young and some old, and each more beautiful than the last. They met in an embrace with the mother and child, and together they bathed in the warmth of each other’s radiance. Then they laughed and danced as they sang songs of love and hope.

    Because the night would never be dark again.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This feels like a fairytale and an horror story love-child. The language is quite fitting for both this styles, and the pacing as well. I just love the flowery way that some descriptions have, and the overall tone of it.

      I think there is a critique to be made about the “lack” of a narrative thread – it feels a lot more like a very concise slice of experience in the life of a young (adorable but creepy in the most adorable sense as well) girl, as she is, I guess, being initiated in a coven of witches (or something to a similar effect). But I’m not one to put weight in this kind of criticisms – the slice we’ve been provided with is great on its own, and the vibes and imagery it brings are well-worth the read.

      Great little narrative here. Love how creepy and adorable it all is, and how there more uncomfortable bits were, paradoxically, the ones more comforting to read. That was quite the effect!

      1. Mango Gravy Avatar
        Mango Gravy

        Thank you very much! I definitely wanted this to just be a single, fond memory. No detailed plans for the future, no insidious plotting. Just a family in a lovely home, far away from prying eyes, and the comfort of a perfect night.

        I’m glad about that last bit. I really wanted that juxtaposition to come through and it seems like it did.

        Thanks again.

    2. I really loved this one. It has those cute fairy tale vibes about it, a little as if a parent is telling their (witch?) child a kind of legend about some really powerful witches; and that neither being different nor the night are anything to be feared.
      I also like that while what you describe is anything but ordinary, the way you describe it somehow makes it both magical and normal as well. Good job!

      Thank you for writing and sharing.

  9. The long night
    By Blinky

    Logan sharpened his axe as he watched a moonless night batter the last vestiges of daylight into a long sleep. He wouldn’t see it again for some days. If he ever saw it again.

    He peered into the woods beyond his makeshift camp. In the past few months, the animals of his forest grew restless. The days grew cold, and fires no longer held the warmth they should.

    “When the light falters and the night creeps ever longer, along the pale wind those touched by the strange hunt.” His father, Luther, once told him when he was just a boy. His large hands squeezed Logan’s shoulders far too tight, but something about the old man’s disposition made him swallow the pain. “You ever hear the woods sing. You run inside and lock the doors. Barricade them shut and permit no entry. Not even for me. Not until the day breaks over them trees.” Luther gave him a hard look. One he hardly recognized. “No witch may enter another’s home uninvited. Your mother protects us even now. Understand?”

    “Yes, sir.” Logan managed to choke out. Not the slightest idea why his father was so afraid, but holding that fear all the same.

    It had been some time since, but he never forgot that day. He never forgot the madness he now recognized in his father’s eyes. Eventually, the woods sang, and the pale winds came. He did as he was told and hated every bit of himself for it. Luther had it in his mind he’d take on a dozen covens himself. Just a man and an axe stood in front of his cabin. He died slow and terrible.

    Logan had lived a lifetime since, but those days stuck with him. Sitting on the other side of that door listening to them torture the old man. Logan’s heart was branded with that weakness. So, he sharpened his axe and waited for the singing. A single man against the witches of the long night stood no chance. A bitter witch at the height of his powers? That might be a different story.

    1. WriterOfThought Avatar
      WriterOfThought

      I enjoy the tension in this story! It does make me wonder if the witches here only go after people or if they also prey on the animals, or if the pov character would benefit from having a guard dog.

      1. I appreciate your kind words. Witches that participate in the hunt prefer the desperate struggle a human might provide. A guard dog would be sick though.

  10. Matthew R. Wright Avatar
    Matthew R. Wright

    HEX and the City
    By Matthew R. Wright

    “Complete CHARMER profile questions, attach photo, click SUBMIT.”

    Tabatha Runeheart stared at the yet to be filled-in sign up form for her yet untouched dating profile – despite installing it over a week ago. She stared and sighed a remarkably impressive sigh for a woman of her size and stature: 5’2 and neat.

    She wasn’t ready. But three months had come and gone since she’d thrown out another one of her ‘Bewitched Boys’ and she was tired of the one-night abracadabra routine. “No more tricks or bewitchments,” she thought. The next person she’d date would find her instead and it would be for what they really saw, not what she could make them see.

    She answered the ‘Name’ question, avoided ‘Age and ‘Build’ altogether, and went straight to ‘Likes’ and ‘Dislikes’. Tabatha knew next to nothing about dating apps, but she knew that whatever she brewed up would determine all future interactions, if any.

    Out came another impressive sigh. Out there, she had beguiled every wizard, warlock, enchanter, and conjuror of cheap tricks within the kingdom, what else was out there beside the odd foul-smelling ghoul or potion-addicted occultist that she’d find on this app? Was this pointless?

    She reflected on the reality that witches don’t tend to want relationships typically, comfortably spending centuries alone, only wanting another’s affection during those final few hundred-years of their extraordinarily long lives. Tabatha wasn’t like other witches, relatively young, being only 219, and yet she had as many relationships as she had birthdays. Why was she so different?

    CLICK! Profile picture done. With the help of the app’s auto-fill function, she completed her profile, leaving the results to the disobedient hands of fate.

    She put down her phone and went off to her cauldron to brew herself something nice and to feed her familiar. Summer had passed; the longest she’d been alone.

    Thinking optimistically, maybe in the next few months, she’d meet a nice necromancer. Someone to share a cauldron with, maybe even raise the dead with. Maybe fall could be the season, her season, to finally get what she’s wanted.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This is very funny. I love how you mix the very mundane (although also really cursed) nature of dealing with dating apps and the supernatural – specially the way the words are used in completing the profile. Brewing as way of conveying the build-up of the profile was a brilliant choice, it really colors how the experience is, and how it should be seem (the most confounding magic of it all, self-propaganda).

      An aside – do you know that cauldron could also be used to refer to the collective of bats? In this sense, there is a double meaning of wanting familiarity in the last paragraph, which in a sense turns it even sweeter.

      That was a very fun read – unexpected and fresh, and very funny. Great tale!

      1. Matthew R. Wright Avatar
        Matthew R. Wright

        Thank you, I’m happy to hear that you enjoyed the story and that it made you laugh. 🙂

    2. Cute. I don’t know what kind of dating scene she’s in, but usually leaving things blank says more than filling them in.
      I’d assume so at least.
      Curious what “Auto-Fill” does. Hopefully it’s magic based so it’s more like, “Click the button and don’t look cause you don’t want to know”

  11. Wild, Once again.
    By Sam C.

    Ahhh, not long until the rest of The Sistership would be here she thought, leaning up against a log. The forest was thickest here, with a small clearing. Light was dimmed on all sides outside it, leaving the only way for those meddling humans to see them was from above.

    She was a witch in every way but an ugly face, and her cauldron just as much so. She looked down at the glowing, bubbling teal substance in the cauldron, it casting its light on her face. The Sistership would be quite impressed at her new concoction.

    Yes, They’d be here soon, and they’d meet for the one night they could.

    *********************************************************************************

    How long had she been asleep? The grey predawn was nearly upon her. She looked around, confused. The other sisters still weren’t here, and it was well past the meeting time.

    The fire under her cauldron was nearly out, but when she went to restock it, she found a note on the cauldron. She picked it up, opening it with concern.

    “Dear Azalea,” It read, “We have decided to eject you from The Sisterhood. We have nothing against you, but you are underskilled in the required fields to be part of our coven. We wish you the best luck in finding a new coven, and not be a wild witch for too long. Sincerely, The Sistership”

    Tears welled in her eyes and her face went red. SO SHE WAS EJECTED? SO SHE WAS UNDERSKILLED? Ohh, she would make them realize that she was more than any of them. She would make them regret making her a wild witch, after years and years of loneliness searching for a coven.

    She turned to her cauldron, and a tear from her cheek fell into the cauldron as she dipped her hand in, and began drinking. It went from teal to olive green in an instant. She drank down the whole cauldron, and when she finished, looked down at her reflection.

    Green? A longer nose? freckles? All the better to terrify them. She grinned and laughed maniacally.

    1. Matthew R. Wright Avatar
      Matthew R. Wright

      Interesting use of the asterix as a method of showing a time skip. Haven’t seen it be done that way before. Enjoyable tale you have here. One constructive comment I would make would be to ensure that you use speech marks when you are showing thoughts or dialogue. At the start, the opening line should be “Ahhh, not long until the rest of The Sistership would be here,” she thought, leaning up against a log. Makes it clear that this is either thought or spoken, formatting wise. Sorry if it sounds negative, not trying to be, just want to help you make your piece as amazing as possible.

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I really like when the beginning of the story is reflected at the end of it. There is a really satisfying sensation in founding one way again in a writing, in finding the way it “rhymes” with itself. And I liked finding it here. Though the element that connects ending and beginning raises a question: Azalea thinks she is a witch in every way, save for not having an ugly face. That implies that other witches have ugly faces. If that’s so, why the characteristics she acquires at the end would terrify the others? I’d bet it would make her look like them.

      Anyway, aside from that, really nice story. Interesting to see the hope and anxiety in showing her skills to her peers be smashed into despair and anger – following strong emotions is a nice way to navigate a short story. Really interesting!

      1. Honestly, the point was the origin story of the EVIL witch, so the others wouldn’t have ugly faces either. It was meant as descriptive instead of her thoughts.

    3. A.W. Blackstone Avatar
      A.W. Blackstone

      Love the angle of being rejected by the “rejects”. And that she becomes “wild” now that she’s alone. Ending with the transformation and maniacal laughing, definitely shows the change in her sanity!

  12. Imperial Inspector
    by jgjgj

    Water was sloshing around in my boots, making my bare feet numb & cold. Each step I took was like playing tug-of-war with the ground beneath me, it poured like this every day, and I was sick of it.

    Squinted eyes found a smear of gray-tan color in the shape of a triangle. I put my wet hand in my pocket to preemptively check the imperial code and prayed I didn’t just smear the correlated numbers. I took it out at once when I reached the entrance and bowed my head to the paper, looked up, and climbed to the door.

    People always knew what day it was, so there was always chatter in these tiny huts. The village didn’t try to collectively remember the day, everyone remembered the day no matter how dull or stupid they were. Even though water poured from the house into thundering puddles, I could still hear little pieces of dialogue through the door; “…chance… …day… …suspicion…”.

    Nostalgic, I crumpled the piece of paper and let it fall onto the ground. And slammed my fist into the door, four times. I shot my head up to the door and listened inside.

    No one moved for 5 seconds until *whisper, whisper*, and 6 feet authoritatively thudded on the floor. The door knocked back four times, I massaged my face in preparation and opened. The warm glow of a home flooded the contrasting dark & dreary landscape by me, and I entered– almost putting my arm over me instinctually to shelter my eyes from the bright light.

    The 3 villagers lined up on an immediate wall parallel to the door. Their hands tensed out to their sides, shoulders aligned themselves on the wall with their boots, and their eyes gravely watched the architrave surrounding the opened door; as if blind to the person immediately in front of them.

    A mother, father, and daughter. The daughter and mother both had black hair, while the father had dirty blond. It was just too easy. It’s a shame most of these Moffettes were out at the corner of the Empire, they needed a little education. I turned my eyes to the father; his face stood out among his wife and daughter as a person who knew imperial protocol– and who didn’t just learn it, but was immersed in it at one point. His daughter & wife were just amateurs. I bit the fat at the sides of my cheeks to control my smile. “Imperial Inspection, I was tipped off by a concerned citizen in this area about your wife & daughters… …features.” The father gave a flicker of reaction from his dull eyes; acknowledgment. “I will just need to see your wife & daughter’s Imperial Citizenry Papers, and then we will be done here.” He didn’t move for a second, as if processing the information presented to him, and finally smartly turned and walked out of the scene.

    I waited until his footsteps weren’t accompanying the same room, and shot them both. Their stern faces didn’t even register the fact a bullet went through either of them, but once the pain was realized, their masks were exposed and utter shock at this betrayal filled their eyes as they looked at me; I shot them both again. It was depressing how hopeless they were, if only they knew from the beginning maybe they would’ve had a chance. But I doubt they would have, there is a reason Imperial Inspectors are so feared, but I doubt nobody– I felt the sounds of fast squeaking coming from downstairs, to up. I kicked my feet into the wall, squeezing past the bodies, felling the daughters to the floor, and gripped my body into the wall listening to the adrenaline-fueled bursting in my chest & a sign of the father’s footsteps. Thump thump thump thump, and silence.

    I shot madly into the daughter to beg a reaction out of this madness. But nothing appealed to his anger and I felt hopelessness curving myself on that wall, weapons pealed to what was around the corner. I grew more and more impatient as time went on– how long was I waiting? I finally took a look around the corner as if looking into my own curious mind– and a burning light enlightened me in response, instinctually raising my hand to cover; but I didn’t have a hand to shelter, just an expanse of light surrounding me.

    1. god dammit

    2. I like this piece very much. It’s written in wonderful first person, while also transmitting the feeling of the piece very clearly. I really enjoy your delayed realization that he’s dead at the end of it. I would submit an edit to fix the formatting, though. It needs single space between the title and author, and double space between each paragraph.

    3. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Let me get this out of the way first – you are way, way over the word limit.

      This is an odd one. There is a real sense of dread in the piece, and that’s an interesting thing to feel here, since we are following the attacker. There is a kind of glee that is betrayed by some word choices, which hint at what is to come – a nice build up. That being said, there are some strange choices at times that break the immersion a little. That is specially prevalent in the last two paragraphs, and even more so in the penultimate one – I got particularly “aware” of the text in front of me with the odd repetition of “But I doubt they/ But I doubt nobody”… that was a little jarring.

      And though I think I have a good grasp at what was going on, I am not sure I got the whole story. Sure, the Imperial Inspector is there to hunt witches, and he manages to catch those two. The father, who had been at an earlier time an agent (or at least, someone indoctrinated in Imperial practices) of the Empire takes a clue and seem to fatalistic give up… and then the twist is that that was no fatalistic acceptance, but maybe a ruse. Was the father a witch as well (and is the final attack a display of magic)? And if so, has he got the Inspector off-guard? Or is it that he is just trying to avenge them (and probably die in the attempt)? Was the attack a more mundane kind of explosion?

      So, a bit confusing, but very efficient in making us feel the thrill of the narrator and the dread of the situation. Very interesting piece!

      1. Yeah, I should have used a different word choice so it didn’t seem so repetitive in the last.

        Also, there are some fatalistic motives from the father fetching the Imperial Citizenry Papers downstairs, but more out of hope that his family can survive this encounter with the Imperial Inspector. That’s why I underlined the fact that he ‘processed the information’ before moving to get the Imperial Citizenry Papers.

        And I think you’re thinking too much about the bright light!
        It was an identifier that the Inspector got shot by the patient veteran who’s been in more grueling situations than this. In other words, the Inspectors ego was outmatched by the experience of a ‘commoner’. Also ‘dirty blond’ and ‘wife and daughters… …features’ are good signifiers that he is not like them. It’s not even clear that his wife and daughter are even witches, or guilty of that fact; it was just the Imperial Inspectors’ overconfidence that got them killed.

  13. Aracnarquista Avatar
    Aracnarquista

    Seasons go by
    by Aracnarquista

    The girl had been walking through the deep woods for hours. She was tired, she was lost, she was hungry, and her bare feet bled. She was so tired, she couldn’t even remember what she was fleeing from. And she didn’t know where she was going as well. Knowing it or not, what she was walking towards was her future.

    Night in the woods was dark, but she was keen sighted and the moon shone bright. She found a lone cottage in a clearing, from which the smells of dried herbs and freshly-disturbed soil came.

    Walking towards the cottage door, the girl saw two graves by the cottage – none marked, one of them open. She was afraid, but she was more tired than afraid, so she knocked on the door.

    A woman with kind eyes opened it, and invited her in. The girl didn’t just stay the night; she became the woman’s apprentice. In time, she learned the secrets of herbs and mushrooms, of dreams and of hexes, the ways of curing and the ways of bringing harm. Most of all, she learned the secrets of the seasons: she learned how to be patient, how to cultivate her attention like a garden, how to listen to plants growing, and how to recognize novelty in repetition, and familiarity in what’s new. She learned how to see the world with the eyes and heart of a witch.

    But witch training is a long process, and by this time, the woman had become an old crone, and the girl had become a woman. The old lady then taught the woman of how age brings the understanding of even greater cycles than the seasons she was attuned to, and advised the girl-now-woman to be cognizant of them.

    That night, with the moon shining bright, the old lady died, and the woman buried her by the cottage. With surprise, she noticed there was another grave there, open. The woman then knew she had to prepare for a visitor, and soon she was opening her door for a lost girl who left bloody footprints behind her.

    1. The imagery and thoughts & feelings of the girl are very grounded, and it uses the 5 senses in all the right ways in the beginning; to better establish the plot but not in a way that disturbs the ‘pacing’.

      I love the ‘magical cycle’ taking place as if it is just destiny for young girls to come under the fold of a whole generation of witches by some curse, or magical spell compelling them to. That’s what I got out of it from the way the imagery is structured to hint at that.

      At first, I thought the time jump broke the pacing, but no! It was to represent her learned perspective as a witch, further immersing the reader into this magical world!

      Not many writers know how to put detail into their writing, without making it long or obsessive. But you my friend have, this is a pretty good example for the development of my own writing.

      *thumbs up*

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot! To be very honest, I’m still a bit on the fence on how much I like this one. I think I lacked some words to really convey what I was trying to say, but the way it came across seems to work. Your interpretation is really interesting, and although not exactly how I’d describe things here, this is very much in tune with the key elements of what I was trying to work with. I loved how you described the effect of the time jump – the whole idea that the story had to change to reflect how the girl (now a woman) changed, and how she now knows the ways of a witch, was the crux of the piece, and I’m very glad in seeing it put in such nice terms! Thanks a lot!

    2. Matthew R. Wright Avatar
      Matthew R. Wright

      Great use of emotive language here! I could see the cottage and smell the herbs and soil, such a strong image you have of your locations. I feel like this is a bullet-point/highlight reel of a much bigger story that hides inside it. Would love to have been able to experience the development of the kind eyed woman and our heroine, as the time jump is a little quick for me. Loved learning about what she did learn though, that last of skills she acquired. I love that it is a loop story of sorts. How there is this generational passing of knowledge from one person to the next. How each new girl becomes the appreciate and then becomes the master for another generation, it’s pretty neat. Really enjoyed your story, wonderfully written and highly detailed.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot. The thing about creating a repeating cycle and presenting it as a loop was what I was going for with the whole seasonal idea – and I’m quite happy that it worked (my first story idea had something about it going on as well, but it wasn’t even close to a workable format considering the word limit). Funny thing is that I’d really like to have a few more words to flesh out some strange coincidences at the beginning and the end (and to make a little bit of discussion on the existence of the two graves), but I would maintain the abrupt time jump. Though it is important for me to hear it might be a bit too abrupt…

        Thanks a lot for the reading and the feedback.

    3. I enjoy a nice twist to things typically seen as evil.

      Although the nature of this witch really intrigues me. She lives in the middle of the woods and, what I can gleen from the ending, is bound to that land. That’s what’s intriguing to me. It’s almost like an obligation to stay and pass the magic on to another runaway girl.

      I feel like this is an era of witch hunting, probably during the Salem Witch Trials. That would explain why the Wtich lives in a secluded area away from everyone.

      Now here is a like! Bibbity-bobbity-pushes like button.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Well, I’d say this is a completely possible reading of the story, and entirely within the possibilities of the text – so it is one of the ways of answering what is going on. And, well, I also love when some of the questions are left in the revolved soil so that they themselves can germinate into other possible stories or trains of thought – why are so many girls having to flee? What are they fleeing from? What makes the cottage a safe place?

        But there are other possible readings. Perhaps, they are bound to the land (or not only to the land). Perhaps, as time is the theme of the piece, it is to time that they are bound.

        How many witches are there?

        As always, thanks for the reading, the feedback, and the like. And, above all, for the food for thought. It is always great to re-read a piece with new eyes!

    4. Mango Gravy Avatar
      Mango Gravy

      This is a lovely metaphor for wisdom building up over generations, or at the very least being preserved. The whole notion of life itself being cyclical is one of those concepts that seems magical in a way, and that fits really well into this clearly magically induced cycle of old crones passing just in time for a bloody-heeled girl to arrive and continue the cycle. Definitely reminds me of the maiden-mother-crone archetype which I’m somewhat familiar with.

      There is a sinister undertone despite the homely and nurturing tone of the middle part of the story, particularly about where the girls are coming from and how the crone passes just in time for the arrival of the new apprentice. Always two there are, no more, no less. A master and an apprentice. Whatever this purgatorial limbo cycle is, it’s not organic. But despite that it manages to be really wholesome and pleasant feeling.

      I loved this story.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        “Always two there are, no more, no less. A master and an apprentice.” -> Where does have I heard something similar? Hehehehe.

        Thanks a lot for your reading and feedback. Strangely enough, I hadn’t though about this parallel with the rule of two (but that might have something to do with my own interpretation of the story muddling the idea of being always two of them). But the thing that I really had in mind while writing was, indeed, the maiden-mother-crone figure. I couldn’t resist playing with that archetype in a prompt that deals with both witches and seasons!

        Thanks a lot!

        1. Mango Gravy Avatar
          Mango Gravy

          Well, it makes sense that the rule of two didn’t quite spring to your mind, since that implies the apprentice unaliving their master. It’s a reading that could definitely fit with your story if the cottage wasn’t shown to be a loving home type deal.

    5. I really enjoy this. It not only flips Hansel and Gretel on it’s head, but it’s just brilliant in it’s language and feel, I like this a lot more than I can describe in words, but it feels wholesome and lighthearted despite the bittersweet ending and the cycles it escribes.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot. You say you feel a lot more than you could describe in words, yet your words were very poetic and they painted the feelings in a very evocative way – which, to me, is great feedback! I just love when one of my stories is appreciated and people find something to like in them! Thanks a lot for the kind words and the feedback!

    6. WriterOfThought Avatar
      WriterOfThought

      This feels like it could be a take on reincarnation, like you’re training yourself to be a witch. Awesome job!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        This interpretation is really, really close to my own. I don’t think I’d use the word reincarnation, but to me the girl and the woman (and the old lady) are the same person, in different moments. It was my take on the Maiden-Mother-Crone archetype, but I fully agree that it could also be read as a strange take on reincarnation. Well, it could also be a story on Nietzsche’s Eternal Recurrence (which could be a good alternative title here as well). Thanks a lot for the comment!

    7. This is actually a pretty cute story. I like it, especially this cycle they are obviously in, with it always being two witches, one learning and one teaching.
      The graves kind of make one think though. Is it really always a “new” girl that ends up at this cottage? Or is it actually just three souls that cycle again and again? It would fit, in a way – after all, witches and things similar, especially in stories like yours, usually come in three.

      Really, again another story to love. Thank you for writing and sharing.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot for the comment and the food for thought!

        Well, if I gave any answer, it would be an unsatisfying one, compared to the musings that you brought here. I’d be wary of trying to really got the number of souls or persons involved in the cycle – through a witch’s eyes, repetition and differentiation might be closer beasts than they are to someone not so magically attuned. That being said, the idea of collapsing relationships that come in fours, threes, two and ones into a single theme was part of the motif I had in my mind while writing.

        If I had a few more words to spare, I’d have dedicated them to a lesson on the grave that houses a corpse and its memories, and the one which waits and reminds the others that their time will also come. I doubt that would answer definitively what is going on, but it would emphasize a certain relation to time, growth, and cycles.

        Thanks a lot!

  14. Iosef Paramonov Avatar
    Iosef Paramonov

    Mrs.Chapman’s April Fools’
    by Iosef Paramonov

    “Number #1, please repeat the sentence on the card you’ve been given.” said Inspector Jones through the microphone.

    Through the glass, three women lifted up their pieces of card. Each was dressed in black, flowing garments, with a multitude of bangles and beads clattering from their arms and necks.

    Number #1, a tall, slender girl with gorgeous looks, stepped forward and read out loud “Good Sir, may I interest you in an apple on this fine morning?”

    Inspector Jones turned around. “Mr. Ericsson?” he inquired.

    Behind him, a crumpled grey suit lay on a wooden chair. Atop it sat a disgruntled, murky brown newt with a long blue tie knotted around its little neck.

    The newt shook its head and replied, “No, it wasn’t her.”

    Inspector Jones turned back to the microphone. “Number #2, your card.”

    Number #2, a short, plump lady with rosy cheeks, held up her card and read aloud “It’ll only cost ya a pretty penny.”

    Again, the newt shook its head. “No. Not her either.” it said.

    “Number #3.” said Inspector Jones.

    Number #3 was mass of wrinkles with a single buck-tooth protruding from a broad grin. “Haha, April Fools’!” she cackled.

    The newt began jumping up and down indignantly upon its besuited perch. “That’s her!” it cried, “That’s the one who turned me into this!”

    Inspector Jones sighed. “Mrs. Chapman, you cannot turn people into amphibians without their consent. That’s a violation of § 10 of the Transmutation Of Creatures and Persons Act 1978.”

    “Come on Inspector,” cried Mrs. Chapman, “‘Twas only a bit of fun.”

    Inspector Jones rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was getting to old for this nonsense. “If you turn him back to normal, we’ll let you off.” he said.

    “‘Course! Easy!” chortled Mrs. Chapman, snapping her fingers.

    Where once there was a bouncing newt clattered a cursing, naked, middle-aged man over the chair onto the floor. A blue tie was knotted around his neck.

    Inspector Jones rolled his eyes. “Alright, be off with you.” he said.

    Still chuckling from her practical joke, Mrs. Chapman shuffled out of the room.

    1. Ah, I sure do love my disgruntled, murky brown newts with a long blue tie knotted around their little necks. It paints a particularly specific image (and a hilarious one too especially with it jumping up and down in anger) that helps highlight the light hearted tone of the story. Another great thing was how you managed to set the personalities of each witch apart from just a single line of dialogue from them. Overall, great story 11/10 would read it again.

  15. Heavy skys threatened lighting and pelting rain. People scattered into their homes to the warm fire and a pot of warm soup. Doors shut. Pets pulled in. Boats were tied to the wharfs. The streets emptied. All but one went inside. Standing on the cobbled streets, his head tipped to the sky, a gleeful smile on his face. He turned as another man approached him. “They say that when the sky gets dark and rain falls down it’s our goddess telling us how sorry she is to leave us on such a sinful land, so sorry that she sends down her tears to wash our pain away.”

    “If that were true then it would never stop raining.” He leaned against a wooden post outside the skys reach.

    He sighed. “Brother you never saw much hope in anything.”

    “What’s there to hope for? I hope for sun and then wish there was rain and then when there’s rain I hope for sun, it’s always a never ending loop, I got sick of it years ago.” The other man retorted, sticking his hands into his pockets.

    “You forget that we can do things other people can’t, Rebby.”

    Reb instantly tensed “you know you can’t say that kind of thing out loud” He hissed between clenched teeth. His eyes darted around the empty windows and closed doors.

    “What’s the matter my dear brother, scared of men with pitchforks and fire?”

    Reb closed his eyes and took a deep breath “we need to leave, we have stayed here longer than we should have already, pack your bags and ready your horse Ande” Quickly he turned around and strided up the street with fisted hands.

    Ande shook his head “such a temper” he muttered. Turning to the sky once more he called out “well great mother of humanity, are you satisfied? After tomorrow you will have a lot more to cry about than just our pain.” Shooting a look over his shoulder Ande walked under shelter as it started to rain.

    1. i-prefer-the-term-antihero Avatar
      i-prefer-the-term-antihero

      Hello! I wanted to quick inform you that your story is currently ineligible for the stream because it is missing a title and author name at the beginning. If you would like your story to be eligible to be read on the stream, please take a moment to read through the rules and amend your story to make sure it follows them.

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  16. Sniperaxiom Avatar
    Sniperaxiom

    So much for love!

    By Sniperaxiom

    Around Valentine’s Day every year there always tends to be a spike in bad luck. It’s become expected. Just like flower shops and bakeries are busy this time of year, back alley merchants of spell material can barely keep up with demand. I would say they are even MORE popular than the flower shops and bakeries!

    It’s no mystery why the places usually reserved for the superstitious and strange are jumping with customers. It’s a simple fact that around Valentine’s day people have a hard time being alone without becoming vindictive.

    Any person with mischievous intent will be sure to keep their identity secret as they collect their jinxing materials. Obviously, though the bad luck comes in a petty form that is unharmful long term, it’s illegal to jinx someone. Not to say it isn’t obvious who did it.

    Walking down the street in the month of February, bad luck runs rampant and rabbits’ feet are hard to find. I see some people fumbling with coffee cups and spilling the molten content on themselves. It’s all too common to see a phone slip out of a pocket only to smash on the ground.

    This whole spike in bad luck spawned an interesting new tradition. Now on Valentine’s Day or in early February, people send gifts to their Ex’s too! Comedically, even after a terrible breakup you can still expect to receive a little offering.

    The month of February has effectively become the season of witches and bad luck.

  17. Spiralling
    By Taja DaLeen

    This is supposed to be the “season of witches”. So, it should be my time to shine. I should have fun, be powerful.

    Be happy.

    But I am not.

    Instead, I sit here, all alone, no friends to talk to, no one to help me out of this. This… feeling of being too much, and too little at once. Just not good enough.

    I can hardly do anything lately. Sure, there’s a reason for that; it’s difficult to perform rituals when you’re hurt and in pain.

    Your magic won’t flow the way it’s supposed to.

    After all, a witch’s magic is highly tied to her emotions. When those are all jumbled and messed up, of course it would hinder the magic from working.

    Or worse, it might go ways it shouldn’t.

    Currently I am afraid of my own magic. With the way my emotions are right now, I can’t tell what will happen if I try to use it.

    Worst case scenario, someone gets hurt.

    I might curse someone by accident, with the amount of hatred I’m trying to bottle up. It’s mainly aimed at my mother right now, she was the one to screw me up like this after all, telling me that I can’t do anything, that I don’t know anything, making me feel worthless…

    But there’s a few others I kinda do wanna curse right now.

    It’s all just getting too much.

    I just… want to let go. Leave. I don’t know how much longer I can take all this.

    I don’t want to harm anyone. I couldn’t…

    You believe me, don’t you? Or are you just like all the others? Telling me what I have to do, what I have to be?

    What I can’t do?

    I knew it. You’re all the same! All of you! You all just want me to fit into your frame! Want me to be what I’m not! I hate you, all of you!!

    Why don’t you just fucking…!

    It’s the season of witches. I am more powerful than ever. And it scares me.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I like how you do introspection in this story. There is a whole thing going on that makes me think how is magic being understood here (not just in the world this story takes place in, but in this particular situation) – is magic a part of the witch? Is magic something she can manipulate?

      Being unable to control something when it is more powerful can be seen as both, and the idea of being conflicted by the power becoming too dangerous, too unstable, is an interesting one to deal with. And the introspective register here is perfect to capture it. And it is specially nice seeing that it is tied to the emotions of the narrator, and these and the way they are being difficult to deal with aren’t hidden from the reader. A terrible positive feedback loop if there was ever one: emotions are out of control, which feeds anxiety, which turns emotions even harder to keep in check, and to cycle goes on. Adds magic (and wild, powerful magic at that) and we got a recipe for tragedy.

      Really engaging narration, really interesting story. Such a tragic take on how the moments one should be specially happy and proud of oneself and their on abilities can be a time of turmoil!

  18. A Hollow Oak Short
    by VTRwriter

    The tenth month was at the end. That meant one important thing: She needed to bake as many goods for Hollow Oak Celebrations as possible! All of Ituante would celebrate, which meant festivals, food, and sales! Lucina wasn’t an adventurer, a hero or anyone special, but she could cook well, and in a festival full of fascinating foods, she would shine!

    One big problem, though: the peanut butter ended the day before. Like, all of it. And Lucina didn’t notice until it was too late. She couldn’t buy more since all stores were closed due to the three days festivity recess. She couldn’t borrow, since no one would have the amount she needed at home. What to do?

    “Just do it”, the voice insisted once more. There was always a voice, specially when she was tense…

    “I told you no”, Lucina replied.

    “You don’t have much choice.”

    “No one will buy that!”

    “What you have to lose?”

    “Reputation? Money? Time?”

    “Doing nothing will be worse.”

    “Ugh, fine!”

    It was a crazy idea. She didn’t want to obey the voice, but it was necessary. Time for the craziest idea she ever had:

    Pumpkin Seed Butter!

    “You know?” Vera said after munching the cake. “I normally wouldn’t eat swamp green food, but it makes a nice contrast with the orange-colored pumpkin cake. And i’ll admit, it is delicious!”

    “I’m so happy that people liked it. It was a weird idea, but I had to try”, Lucina breathed in relief.

    “This will be the festival’s success, I’m sure of it. It could be a tradition, even!”

    “Thank you!”

    “By the way, now that I think about it, There was an old lady who did green butter like this one a long time ago, when we were kids.”

    “Really?”

    “Yeah. She’s probably dead now, and I never tried it, since it looked yucky, but I was a picky eater back then. I wonder if that butter tasted liked this one…”

    Lucina smiled. Sales were good, reviews were good, all was well. Sometimes it was nice to have voices in her head.

    1. This is such a wholesome tale and I loved every minute of it. I was so sure it was going to go somewhere dark, especially when the voice was introduced. I was assuming Lucina was secretly a witch or something which made it even funnier when that wasn’t the case.

      That said, I am curious why the line about the old lady was included. It makes me think she was the voice. But even if there was absolutely nothing supernatural about this story at all, it remained a very entertaining read.

      Great take on the prompt!

  19. Baes Loaded
    By: BOB

    Union was up by three runs in the ninth inning against Green Brooks’ team. In the crowd was a lady who seemed to have a greenish hue to her face and her hair resembled algae on a rock in a lake and a big protruding wart on her face. She also had a long black coat and she was cheering for Green Brook. There were two outs and no one on base. There was a fast ball for a strike straight down the middle of home plate. Then the pitcher from Union threw a slider that the batter hit to the outfield. Green Brook had one man on base two outs. Then there was a high curveball for a ball. The next pitch was a changeup and the ball was hit to center field for a base hit. Then three balls came to the batter, he got a base from a hit on a changeup. There were three balls then there were two fast balls for two strikes. It came down to the batter, it was the bottom of the ninth inning Green Brook down by three, bases loaded with a full count. The peculiar lady was standing. She reached into her long black coat which seemed to be like a suitcase inside. She rummaged and pulled out a wand. She began murdering into a wand. Everyone looked at her and thought she was a witch. The batter for Green Brook swung the bat and hit the ball into deep left center. He ran to first base then rounded to second he stopped and looked at the ball that went over the fence! He ran to home plate! Green Brook had won the game against Union; All thanks to the witch in the crowd.

    1. This story is very engaging. I like how you incorporated a witch in the middle of a normal activity. I also like how you portrayed the with as good instead of evil.

    2. Charlie Ford Avatar
      Charlie Ford

      I enjoyed reading this story and I loved your official baseball terminology. I have one bigger question about your story. How is the witch helping the team, is she making them swing better, or the ball go further, or does she flat out control the player? Throughout this story I have found many unanswered questions and I think that this is very good because it allowed me to interpret it for myself. Good Job and Keep Writing!!!

      1. the with condoled the bat

        1. the witch controlled the batt

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      i-prefer-the-term-antihero

      Hello! I wanted to quick inform you that your story is currently ineligible for the stream because of improper paragraphing. If you would like your story to be eligible to be read on the stream, please take a moment to read through the rules and amend your story to make sure it follows them.

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  20. Charlie Ford Avatar
    Charlie Ford

    Watch Your Kids and Lock Your Doors
    By Charlie Ford

    The Salem News
    October Witch Scare
    By Clara Judice
    10/14/06
    ——————————————————————————————————
    An unnatural rise in child abductions in our town has occurred during this spooky month. Over the last fourteen days, a total of 46 kids have gone missing. According to police chief Miles Walker, “We are doing everything that we can to track the kidnapper. Even though we have a lack of evidence now, this person will soon mess up and we will catch them.” Other residents have something else in mind, storming newspaper offices and police stations with pictures of witches. Yesterday, Friday the 13th, has had the highest number of abductions all month so far, but how bad will it be on Halloween. From a conversation with local cultist, Cat Vandran, she has told us that, “This is the witch’s way of getting back at us from the trials in 1692. They want revenge for what we did to them so now they will steal our children. This is the ‘Mevsimi o cre Traaldi’, or in English, the ‘Season of the Witch’.” So, is it now, the ‘Season of the Witch’? A new disease has been spreading through our town and other towns near us due to rising black cat populations. This disease transmitted from fleas on the cats is dubbed the “Witch Plague” by many medical experts. Some common symptoms include a green hue in your skin, large hairy warts, rapid nail growth, violent vomiting, and in rare cases seizures and death. Back to the abductions, as reported by local public safety officer, Ann Prescott, “We may be forced to introduce a new curfew on the town and possibly cancel our long anticipated Halloween celebrations.” So watch your kids and lock your doors because it is now the ‘Season of the Witch’.

    1. I really liked the idea of making your story a news article. I also like how you went off the topic little with the new disease and made it tie into the witch problem. The part that sticks out to me is the end. The story in my opinion is awesome.

    2. I really liked this story! It was clever how you made the characteristics of a witch as a disease.This was a smart way of using the prompt. It was also funny how you said the black cat population increased.

    3. i-prefer-the-term-antihero Avatar
      i-prefer-the-term-antihero

      Hello! I wanted to quick inform you that your story is currently ineligible for the stream because of improper paragraphing (I’m referring to the fact the story itself after the line is one large paragraph). If you would like your story to be eligible to be read on the stream, please take a moment to read through the rules and amend your story to make sure it follows them.

      Thank you so much for submitting!

  21. Trick or Treat?
    By Mildly Warmed Coffee

    The rapid knocking against her door has Shyee hurrying towards it in a rush.

    “Aster, keep stirring it!” she says, ignoring the protests of her partner. “Coming!”

    When she opens the door, she is greeted by a handful of children dressed in the most peculiar of manners.

    “Trick or treat!” they cry in chorus.

    Shyee blinks.

    “Trick or treat?”

    Her confusion is met with groans.

    “Not this again,” one of the taller children wrapped in excessive bandages complains. “How’s it possible to meet three clueless adults in a row? You’ve even dressed the part!”

    “Lady, we are here to trick or treat.” Her attention is drawn to what appears to be the youngest of them with two red horns taped to his head. “The normal response would be to give us candy or play a trick on us. But you should just give us candy. No one plays tricks anymore.”

    “Um, how about your friend there.” Shyee gawks at the child on the ground wearing a white sheet. “He’s been tripping over the same rock for a good minute now.”

    “Eh, don’t mind him.” The sole girl flicks her hair over her shoulder, nearly knocking off the crown on her head. “We told him the bedsheets as a costume would be a terrible idea. Serves him right.”

    “Arr!” A boy with one eye covered brandishes his sword at her menacingly, the effect largely ruined by how it wobbles with the motion. “All your candy, in my basket now!”

    “…”

    After she manages to shoo them away with some cookies, Shyee trudges back to the kitchen utterly defeated. Aster stares at her pointedly while stirring their dinner with a vengeance.

    “Why so quiet? What, cat got your tongue?”

    The black cat snickers at his joke as Shyee groans.

    “Humans are scary.”

    “… You just realised that?”

    She sighs, looking him in the eye.

    “Do you think they know I’m a witch?”

    “Nah,” Aster scoffs. “No witch dresses like you these days with the hat, dress and all.”

    “True.” She nods. “By the way, I gave them your cookies.”

    “YOU DID WHAT?!”

    1. Iosef Paramonov Avatar
      Iosef Paramonov

      That was a very funny story worthy of Terry Pratchett. The twist at the end definitely made me laugh out loud. There are so many directions you could go with that – are the cookies poisonous? Do they give people magical powers? Or was Aster just irritated that her prized cookies had been stolen by kids?

      Anyway, great story!

    2. I really liked this story but I think it should have showed more ways how she’s a witch. Maybe she could have took the kids and cooked them in a pot. I also like how you ended the story with the cat saying “YOU DID WHAT?!” Overall the story is good.

    3. Charlie Ford Avatar
      Charlie Ford

      This is a great engaging story. I love the amount of dialogue and the way you use other words instead of ‘said’. This story is very funny about the witches not knowing what Halloween is and the kids saying that they are in costume. I LOVE the cliffhanger at the end. Good job, keep writing!!!!!!!

  22. Lee Strangely Avatar
    Lee Strangely

    Wand Way Or Another
    by Lee Strangely

    Under the shadows of the thick dark clouds, the old church’s bell echoed across the foggy fields, reverberating past the gnarled trees and weathered tombstones. It called to the men below as they trudged through wet leaves and mud, with only their lanterns to see. Amory could hear their voices as they passed by. Occasionally she peeked out of the hole to check their progress.

    When it seemed safe, her attention returned to the coffin below. She was easily able to tear apart the rotten wood. Dozens of tiny creatures slithered and crawled away once they were exposed, their absence revealing the intended occupant. All but bones remained, still clutching at a wrinkly black book. Amory wrestled it out of its brittle grasp.

    Books like this one are known by many titles depending on their author. In common tongue, they are simply called Grimoires, an invaluable tool for younger, inexperienced witches such as herself. Unfortunately, such tomes are as hard to come by as willing teachers, if not harder. Most are often burned along with their captured authors, or buried with the few who went unnoticed up to their deaths.

    The sound of the mob soon grew too close for comfort. Instinctively, Amory reached for the side of her leg, only for her blood to run cold. Early on, the mob had caught her by surprise, leaving only enough time to grab her shoes. Her wand was left behind in the flight. You see, casting a spell without a wand is essentially firing a gun without a barrel: it’s unfocused, and volatile.

    Up above, the mob surrounded her. One man, who was either quite brave or dimwitted, approached. A loud snap came from the hole as he pointed his rifle down it. Instantly, everyone heard something akin to thunder, as a blinding blast shot up, knocking the man and several yards away. They all turned to the hole.

    “Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble,” Amory muttered, stepping out with the book in hand, “Something wicked this way comes…”

    Her other hand then pointed a skeletal arm in their direction, “IT’S HERE!”

    1. The title of the story already drew me in. The pun was quite funny. I liked the way the story progressed, showing the danger Amory is in and you even manage to fit some good elements of world building in there, by explaining her the magic works.

      The mob really feels present in this story and when it is introduced, you do a good job at maintaining the tension. One thing I’m curious about is the ending. Is Amory using the skeletal arm to distract the mob or is it part of a spell? I apologize, if I’m just being dense.

      Well written!

    2. The Missing Link Avatar
      The Missing Link

      The description of opening the coffin is very evocative. You can almost smell the must and rot. The mob is almost more oppressive than the miasma of the grave. One question I keep coming back to is that the fourth paragraph talks about using magic without a wand, which makes me wonder if the skeletal arm in the last line is the corpse’s, or hers.

  23. The Seasoning of the Witch
    by
    Sarah J. Herbison

    I watched the oven as the skin crackled, the fragrant scent of meat and spices lingering in the kitchen. I stacked more wood into the stove. The heat must be even for the roast to be tender and delicate.

    A messenger knocked upon my door, calling me away from my duties. I implored my maid to watch over the roast while I went to the town square. But I tripped over the cobblestone path. The air clung with the stench of burning flesh; shrieks of a burning woman cut through the massive crowd.

    The woman’s name was Goody Porter. The town priest accused her of witchcraft after the children went missing. Her screams filled the air as the townspeople gathered, the priest glaring over them. They kneeled in abject silence, waiting for the screams to stop, for the priest to say it was safe to go home.

    I was smiling as I watched her burn, her charred flesh peeling from her skin and the stench of her torment rising to the heavens. I had always hated Goody and her simplistic ways. She was only a milkmaid; she had the intelligence of a child. There was no way she could be a threat to children. But she would stop by the path to collect flowers and pray to the old gods. So many villagers prayed to the old gods and would teach their children to do so. I would not have it! God would damn them from salvation.

    By accusing Goody, I was saving the town’s future. The True God would consume everything, including the next generation. It would savor their souls in heaven. Goody’s screams stopped, and the priest cried. He went on his usual sermon of thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. The same tiresome prattle he gave every Sunday, with a dose of fire and brimstone. I would suffer none of these witches, these pagans, to live. And the priest would give me all the children who misbehaved.

    With that said, I must return home. I have a roast to attend.

    1. Your descriptive writing is amazing! I really like the little details you scattered around your story. I also like how the plot made sense, the witch told the priest to burn Goody and in exchange the priest gave her the mischievous kids. The back to back thing was also really smart, how you began with her attending the roast and then ended it the same. I don’t think you need any advice, Nice Work!

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That was amazing. The descriptions of what is going on are really gripping, and when we start to know the narrator… well, that was dark in a very, very satisfying way. And you have a very thrilling way of presenting the way of thinking of the narrator.

      Really, I’m a bit lost for words to convey how much I appreciated this story. Really well-written, really engaging. I hope to read more of you!

  24. “Oh. Right.” (Chronicles Of The Dragon)
    By Makokam

    The air had become chilly quite suddenly. None of the team really acknowledged it until Jostica came into the kitchen to make her morning tea wearing a bathrobe and slippers. Everyone seemed to suddenly stop holding back the shivers.

    “Yeah, it can get pretty cold down here,” Thomas said. “It’ll stay warm though, once we get the heaters up and running. It’s just the transition period that’s rough.”

    “I do like Fall though,” Blaise said, “Spooky season. The Season of The Witch.”

    The kettle clanged onto the stove as Jostica stood rigid, then quickly turned and walked out of the room.

    Over the next few days, Jostica was more secluded than usual. Coming and going frequently, and talking to anyone little if at all. Even blowing off Uncle Sam when he tried to speak to her about how she’d been missing training.

    The most she talked to anyone was when she knocked on the door to Thomas’ workshop asking if she could take some iron scraps.

    Eventually Thomas, Trojan Tea in hand, entered her room and asked, “So, what’s got you so uptight lately?”

    “It’s the Season of The Witch.”

    “Okay. Shouldn’t that be good for you? Weakened reality barriers or whatever making you more powerful?”

    Jostica sighed, picked up what she was working on, and turned to him. “First of all, I’m not a Witch. I am a Wizard. Witches rely on spirits and other entities to do the work for them. I do the work myself.

    “Secondly, yes the boundary between our material plane and the spiritual one makes it easier for spirits to come through, which makes witches more powerful.

    “And thirdly,” she said, handing him the thing, “that’s why I’m going to need you all to wear these talismans and help me draw some protective circles. I wasn’t particularly worried before, but now I’m on a super team and I don’t doubt some villain is or could hire a witch to try and hurt us.”

    1. Nice prompt drop 😀

      I do like that Jostica is using her powers to protect the team, and can only hope that the team takes the protective circles seriously. All it takes is for ONE numpty to scoff, “This is hocus pocus BS I don’t need to be COMPLETELY accurate. Near enough is good enough,” and that’s how you get some variety of fae plague on your doorstep. Or the eldritch equivalent of the annoy-a-tron.

      Something to ponder if you ever need a sequel.

    2. Ah the hurdles of being the only magic user on a team. This was an interesting story and the buildup to the payoff was well done. Lol I will admit one unfortunately funny thing is that when you first introduced Jostica, you called her “the Jostica” which got a chuckle out of me because I’m a dork and immediately thought “She’s the goddamn Jostica! Behold her robe and slippers and beware!”

      Random tangent aside, it’s really cool that she seems like she’s upset at the team or at least doesn’t want anything to do with them and it turns out that it’s the exact opposite and she’s doing all she can to keep them safe from a threat they’d be completely unprepared for.

      The nitpicky part of me doesn’t like that the prompt is used twice in the story, but it makes sense both times. First to set up the problem and then again to explain it. So since I can’t exactly think of a better way to do it, and its probably just a personal nitpick in my head, you can probably ignore it lol.

      And while I did mention this earlier, I do really love the differentiation between what a witch and a wizard are and that it isn’t just a gendered difference of the same thing. That’s really cool.

      Great take on the prompt!

    3. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      Okay, you had me at Spooky Season and carried me the rest of the way. Also, interesting difference between witch and wizard.

    4. Jocelyn Avatar
      Jocelyn

      You’re a wizard, Harry! Lol

      I always thought they were a variant of the same. Wizards, warlocks and witches… good to know there’s a difference!

  25. Donovan Avatar
    Donovan

    Season of the Witch
    By Donovan

    It was the season of the first frost, when trees forget their green and leaves give up the canopy to rest on open ground. A girl was out in the woods, gathering the fruits of the forest into her wicker basket. Keeping her eyes on the ground she wandered deeper into the woods than she was accustomed to. When the gray light of day began to change, matching the deep oranges and purples of the forest, she looked for her way back. Believing she was headed home she wandered farther into the tangles of the forest.

    Now, as the light around her dimmed and the shadows of the trees grew and lengthened something seemed to change. She became suspicious of every tree, as though something was watching her from just behind each trunk, keeping exactly opposite to her as she moved. She stopped on a hill, looking for a landmark. The only familiar sight was her breath misting the air in front of her.

    “Are you lost?” creaked a voice from behind an old elm.

    A chill washed over the girl, and she began to shiver.

    “What is your name, child?” rasped the elm, gnarled and leafless. It was in a small valley before her, but its wide trunk supported black branches that twisted high and far into the canopy overhead.

    “I don’t know the way back to town” the girl said, in nearly a whisper.

    “That’s very unfortunate, I know these woods well, and I can set you on your way. Only, what name may I call you by?”

    The girl said nothing, every nerve tingled with a sense of danger, but she knew that if she ran she would only become more lost, and something from the back of her mind whispered that she shouldn’t lie.

    “Some call me daughter, and some call me friend. Today though, I am lost.” The girl said carefully.

    “Lost girl, follow this valley until you are stopped by a fallen oak, from the hill there you can see your town.”

    “Thank you.” The girl whispered, hurrying back towards home.

    1. This piece of work is really well written. I really like how you turned from the fairy tale witch and made a cool character out of it. My favourite thing is the littles girl line of ‘Some call me daughter, and some call me friend’. I have no advice to give about your story, Good Job!

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This was very atmospheric. I just love how well the tension was built for that fateful question – when dealing with magic or lost in a fairytale, one must be wary of names, for names hold power. And the girl is quite clever and savvy here. Her answer was strategic and poetic. Love seeing that.

      Great tale!

  26. Reinkarnitor Avatar
    Reinkarnitor

    Catching another Witch

    by Reinkarnitor

    The young woman could not run anymore. The people have finally caught up to her and her back was against the wall. What did she do to deserve this? All she ever wanted was to help people with her powers, her knowledge.

    Still…every city she came to was the same. As soon as she tried to use her skills, the people would turn against her. And even though it never changed, not even once did she consider to stop helping people.

    Now she was caught. The people took her by the hands and lead her to the big house in the middle of the town, where the lord of the city resided in. They cheered all the while, and the woman could only think of was that they must be very happy to have caught her. Perhaps they hoped for a reward. After all, catching witches is very good for one’s reputation.

    After a while, they finally arrived. The people called for their Lord to open the gates and take a look at the witch. And finally…he did.

    “Lord, we found another witch!” one of the people shouted.

    The Lord looked at her and the gestured to let go of her hands.
    “Welcome!”

    The woman though she misheard and looked at him with big eyes.

    “Welcome to my city! Please stay as long as you like!”

    “You…why?” she managed to stammer.

    “I do not see why we should turn away people, just because they have talents. I believe that we would be able to learn a lot from each other.” the Lord explained.

    “Consider yourself to be my guest. I am sure that you will find many like you, when you look carefully in my city.”

    The people cheered and welcomed her, while the woman was still unable to fully comprehend what just happened.

    The Lord then walked back into his house but turned one last time to smile at her.

    “Don’t worry. You are safe here. After all…” he chuckled “…this city celebrates the season of the witch all year long.”

    1. Faustini Avatar
      Faustini

      Your writing is great. Yet I have feeling that after reading it multiple times I cannot comrehend the situation – must be same as the witch.
      I understand the idea of having witch in town good for business. After all where else to look for cure for different malladies, be them mundane or magical.

      And yet I am left with feeling that her stay will be not all flowers and rainbows.

      Anyway my understandfing of story out of the way.

      Good job. Keep writing

  27. Which Season?

    By Joe

    Sturgill grabbed his coat and scarf off the the hanger by the door. “Alright. I gotta run to the forest to get some seasoning.”

    Gary looked up from his book with concern. “Please tell me you read up on your spices. The last time you brought some home that were ‘in season’ we found out you picked up marijuana, grounded it up and put it in the spaghetti.”

    “Hey! I told you I thought it was oregano, alright. And it wasn’t that bad. You found something out about yourself after a deeply induced trip of self reflection.”

    “I don’t think people eat marijuana to self-reflect. Whatever that was still haunts me to this day.”

    “Well, regardless I’m getting a new seasoning that I hear is,” he touched his forefingers to his thumbs, “pretty preem.”

    “Which seasoning is it?”

    “Which.”

    Gary sat silently waiting. “Well! Which one?”

    “Which.”

    “Which?”

    “Yeah, Which?”

    “What is Which?”

    “You know, like, they cackle, stir things in a cauldron, and ride on brooms into the night.”

    Gary looked at Sturgill condescendingly. “Go back to marijuana.”

    “What?! Come on, dude! There’s guaranteed to be a new experience!” Sturgill said with a cheeky smile.

    “You’re about to go out and get a full grown witch so we can eat her. I-I don’t know how this sounds sane to you.”

    “Oh no! It’s not a full grown witch. They’re tiny witches in a jar. There’s like ten in there.”

    More silence follwed.

    “How’re you going to work them into a recipe?” Gary stressed.

    “The jar is like a pepper shaker. You shake it and pour out magic onto the food.”

    “How do you know it’s magic? How do you shake magic out of tiny witches?”

    “Magic.”

    Gary hated that answer, and sighed. “Where’d you even buy these?”

    “From a goblin.”

    “SINCE WHEN WERE THERE GOBLINS?!” Gary yelled.

    “I know right.” Sturgill chuckled. “They’re sneaky little suckers. Haha.”

    Gary was seething while he waited for an explanation.

    Sturgill clapped his hands together and sucked air through his teeth. “So I ran into a unicorn…”

    “AAAUUUUGGGHH!!!!”

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This reminds me of the one about the guy who found out he could fly – it has that same king of humor where the nonsensical and the absurd are escalated at each new sentence. Not something I would bet would work – let alone, twice. But here I am, seeing it work its magic once again.

      I am not sure if it is intentional, but it seems like you layered a lot of the jokes here, and this makes me wonder how much care you put into this piece. There is the whole thing about homonyms at the beginning, then I guess there’s the reference not just to the absurd idea that Sturgill got the witch’s seasoning from a goblin, but that he made the very dangerous mistake of dealing with a goblin market (what has he payed for it, I wonder?) and… well, it might as well all just be a marijuana trip (and if it is, then I want the contact of his dealer – for a bit of self-reflection).

      The pacing of comedic dialogue is quite good, and that mixture of banal annoyance and surreal situation is really compelling. Great work!

    2. This is a nice bit. Has some Abbot and Costello vibes. Not sure if the joke would work betteror not, if “witch” was spelled correctly during that exchange.

    3. Faustini Avatar
      Faustini

      I enjoyed reading your story. Different word play than i went with but also clever. I am going with the idea that Sturgill is still under influence of that in season “oregano”. Whole dialog between slighltly naive Sturgill and his now very annoyed companion brought a smile to my face.

      Keep going 😉

  28. J. J. Peterson Avatar
    J. J. Peterson

    The Witches Seasoning
    J. J. Peterson

    While most people know of Fifth Avenue, few know of the street that turns off, just between 47th and 48th street. Street 47th and a half is hardly worth being called a street, for the cracked and jagged pieces of pavement run straight, directly off Fifth Avenue, no more than a metre wide and end abruptly.

    This alley is home to a wild, formerly domesticated, house cat, an abandoned sandwich bar, the faded sign reading “Scott’s Sandwitches”, and at the end of the street, a holey wooden door, which often stands ajar. If someone were to squeeze through ever, and that would only be to escape the rain, they would find a scene similar to what now unravelles.

    A fire burns on the packed dirt floor, and a woman on a two legged stool slowly stirs the contents of a large iron pot which stands on three legs above the fire. The woman would be quite beautiful if she took the time to take care of herself, but she doesn’t, though her jet black hair is very striking. Her young son, no more than a toddler, pushes a decrepit wooden car back and forth on a shelf set against one of the walls of the small room.

    The woman, inevitably, after seeing one enter soaked to the bone, turns to her son and says, “Pass the thyme, will you? The soup is almost done.”

    The boy grabs one of the many jars littering his place space, seemingly at random, and sitting on the edge of the shelf, drops to the ground, and, tottling over to his mother, hands her the thyme. After sprinkling the dried green plant into the pot, she’d turn to that someone, shivering and cold in the doorway and say, “Oh sweety, you look so cold! Please, have a bowl of soup.”

    One, being quite cold and wet, would be inclined to accept the small wooden bowl full of the warm soup. And, shakingly raising it to their lips, that would be the last thing they ever do.

    1. My thoughts were that it was a stereotypical Halloween story, with strong imagery, a person with zero brain cells doing something that requires zero brain cells, & a final feeling of pity for the character that you have no real connection.

      There’s one huge gap in logic that took me out of the imagery, and I’m not sure if it was on purpose.

      Why would someone go down an alley to a weird wooden door to escape the rain, specifically there of all places? I mean it’s 5th Avenue street is still a 5th Avenue street, there are businesses galore. Maybe it would make more sense if there was some kind of spell that drew them into that place. Than just someone randomly barging into a stranger’s home and accepting whatever food is offered to them– it’s a little silly, no?

      If it was just a stereotypical Halloween story, then it was a fun nostalgic read that I most likely took too seriously.

  29. Faustini Avatar
    Faustini

    Do not forget seasoning
    by Spawn of Faust

    First of all, we have to get our meat. Make sure that specimen that you choose is young and its flesh is tender.

    We put our cauldron over the high heat and fill it up with vegetables of your choice. I always go with carrots and parsley.

    Once vegetables go soft, we have to lower the heat and introduce the source of our meat to the broth. If the source is throwing fit over the temperature or lack of seasoning, feel free to use some of your hypnotic skills. Do not worry, It will have very little impact on the final flavor.

    After introducing the specimen to the stew, slowly raise the heat. Heavy iron lid should muffle any unwanted noise that can be heard. Do not worry after a few minutes of boiling any struggle and you can with a clear conscience remove the lid. Your neighbors won’t be disturbed anymore by your latest cooking masterpiece.

    Continue to boil the stew for over twenty hours. Now thanks to some special TV magic we have stew that has already gone through a long boiling process.

    Pick a wooden ladle and fish out any unwanted residues that were left by our meat provider. In my case, it will be clothes and bones, of which we will use later.

    Now for the penultimate part. Seasoning.

    Break the fished out bones and scoop out the marrow. You should mix the marrow with salt, pepper and crushed juniper berries in a separate bowl and then slowly stir into the soup.

    Now for the final part. Serving the meal.

    Thanks to the volume of the cauldron you should have enough soup to invite your close friends and neighbors. (You owe them at least that much.) Soup should be served in a small bowl with crumbs of bread.

    Enjoy your meal and see you next week on the next episode of “Cooking with Armollinen“.

    1. Reinkarnitor Avatar
      Reinkarnitor

      I laughed all the while, when I read this. That was a very evil topic, portrayed in a very funny way. Needless to say that I loved the direction you took the prompt in. Cooking with a witch, a very interesting concept for a tv show. Also, the line “Now thanks to some special TV magic we have stew that has already gone through a long boiling process.” was my favorite.

    2. I know there’s a person being cooked alive in this…but I’m hungry! And I think I’ll remain complicit since we’re so casual about it here.

      You really nailed the instrucional tone of it. Smooth and apt. It feels like a real personality you would see on TV and cook along with.

      One question though. Is the name ‘Armollinen’ a reference to real person, or a famous story?

      No matter the answer, great story!

      1. Faustini Avatar
        Faustini

        Glad you liked it.

        Armollinen is finnish for merciful – for names I usually go with other languages

  30. Witchcraft

    by Galer.

    “So what do you want to know about witchcraft?” asked Luisa to her new protege

    “You use broons, a pointy hat, and a cauldron?” Travis asked sardonically making his teacher snort while he was preparing his gun” sorry for the joke but that is marketable right now”

    “Ja! aren’t you a cheeky one hu?” Luisa Jovially responded “no we never did that, we use the new things, and witchcraft is another way to refer to magic”

    “So… rune-ladened motorcycles, modern chemistry, and sensible fashion sense?” Travis asked while he was focusing his aether on the gun taking aim towards the target “and here I thought you were old here”

    “Pah! just because I am an elf doesn’t mean I cannot modernize with the new world,” Luisa said ” also you forgot, the magical guns, forged in dragons fire”

    A bam! reverberated through the firing range and some of Travis’s aether pool, was dispensed along with the bullet when it collided with the target it twisted to the form of a wooden bird, the bullet also splashed the second one this time it let out a black haze.

    “And the shapeshifting bullets filled with my personal favorite the liquified aiming hex,” The woman with the Title of the bullet witch of Norway said with pride “reshoot it and don’t line up”

    Travis obeyed his gun nut mentor and shot, the projectile went wide, but all of a sudden the bullet corrected its direction in the middle of the air, successfully hitting the target and turning it into a wooden toad.

    “Hu? well that’s useful,” Travis said, only for a box labeled dragon’s breath with Crayola to be shoved on his face, he raised an eyebrow at them “did you make them? aren’t those dangerously explosive?”

    “Bah!, it is my place,” Louisa said lackadaisically “I also have a license so we are not going to be in trouble”

    Travis just made a face and let out a sight ” well here is hoping that a forest fire doesn’t happen…again”

    She only smiled in return.

    How reassuring.

    1. Reinkarnitor Avatar
      Reinkarnitor

      Love it. The take you have on witchcraft is really amazing. Guns, motorcycles enchanted bullets to cast spells. Also I really love the teacher Luisa, she is refreshingly crazy.

      And one question: The one time she said “Ja”, that was original language as the witch of norway, right? If yes, very nice detail for her character.

      Keep up your good work ^^

      1. Ok that was accidental the JA! Was more of a Laught that actual refference to the Etnicity.

  31. Threading the Needle (Darkspell Universe)
    By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

    Valerie had never been so focused in her entire life. She sat cross-legged on the floor, her tongue between her teeth, the tip of it extending out of her mouth. On her lap lay various layers of cloth in black and purple.

    “Needle down, switch, up, switch…”

    She didn’t even check the clock.

    Finally, she made the last stroke and raised the witch costume in front of her, examining her work. It turned out that her ‘costume’ had become an eldritch abomination of cloth and thread, with a needle hanging out and way too many sleeves, all of which stitched to the torso.

    There was a knock on the door and Daniel walked in.

    “Hey, just checking on your progress.”

    “Well…” Valerie stood up and revealed her finished work. “Define progress.”

    Daniel blinked.

    “What are you, the ineffable cloth demon?”

    “Oh, shut up.”

    She threw a pillow at her friend. Daniel caught it with one hand.

    “I still don’t get, why you just couldn’t wear your Nightguard costume.”

    “Because one, that is not some costume, it is the original Nightguard suit and I don’t want people to recognize me as their second-favourite vigilante. Second, I don’t want to go as myself. That’s boring. Do you plan on going as the demigod of mortal vengeance?”

    “It would beat Lord Pumpkinhead,” he held up a jack-o-lantern mask.

    Valerie blew a strand of pitch-black hair out of her face.

    “Well, the only other things I have are fake spider webs and a few dried leaves.”

    “Spider silk and the autumn dryad… Not the worst idea.”

    “Daniel, this is your first ever Fall Moon Party. I want your costume to be good. Better than wearing a name badge that says ‘Son of the Woman in Carmine’. We can’t just go as something we already are, where’s the fun in that?”

    “Mia said the same thing. She’s over in the other room, trying to persuade Konrad to go as a witch, if she goes as a crow.”

    Valerie blinked. Mia was a witch, Konrad her crow familiar.

    “Show me. This instant.”

    Chuckling, Daniel obliged.

    1. J. J. Peterson Avatar
      J. J. Peterson

      I really enjoyed your story, especially as it was much lighter content then some of the other stories for this prompt. The idea of character which usually make for costumes, dressing up for halloween is quite creative and interesting to read. Your dialogue is also easy to read and enjoyable. Good job!

    2. I didn’t read the whole thing, but a woman dressed as a crow, with a crow perched on her shoulder dressed as a witch sounds adorable.

  32. The Missing Link Avatar
    The Missing Link

    Double Double Toil and… What?
    By The Missing Link

    “Double double, toil and trouble, fire burn, and cauldron…”

    “Mom, get away from my pot,” the young girl of seventeen ran over to the stove, hat flying off her head, “After last time.”

    The old witch gave her a surprised look, almost hurt by her daughter’s remark, “Last time? What are you talking about Hilda?”

    “You poisoned my boyfriend’s lunch,” Hilda shouted.

    “He didn’t like newt eyes?”

    “It turned him into one,” Hilda responded, exasperated.

    “Oh, I’m sure it wore off.”

    “That’s not the point.”

    “If he can’t handle a little transformation, how is he supposed to date my daughter? Now here, put this in.”

    She held up a jar of… chicken claws? Did she get those from granny’s hut? Surely enough, its toes were sheared clean. Another thing she’d have to smooth out…

    “Mom, for the love of God.”

    “Young lady,” said the witch shortly.

    “Sorry… for the love of Satan,” Hilda sighed.

    Mother really just did what she pleased… striding over without a care to taste the concoction, “Needs more paprika, Dearie.”

    “I didn’t ask, mom.”

    “And how many times do I need to tell you to put your cauldrons over the fire? Stoves just don’t get you that nice smoky tang to your potions.”

    “Mom.”

    “No, no, this simply won’t do.”

    Hilda pulled her retrieved hat down over her face in frustration. Thank Go… any divine thing that would listen no one from school was there to see this.

    “These chunks here, Dearie, I’ve told you you don’t cube potion solids.”

    Fed up, Hilda snatched back the pot, and slammed it back on the stove. “Would you stop and listen?”

    “Now that’s no way to speak to your mother.”

    “I’m trying to make dinner for my date tonight, would you please go away?”

    “Oh why didn’t you say so? You definitely want this dog tongue then.”

    1. This was a fun mother-daughter interaction. I can totally see Hilda’s mother as someone, who is quite careless with her magic to the detriment of her daughter, even believing herself to be somewhat superior towards other people, given her remark about boys trying to date Hilda.

      The story not only showed their dynamic really well, it also showed how they seem to deal with conflict. Hilda seems like she genuinely wants to mingle with normal children, which her mother doesn’t seem to want to allow, even if she has a good grasp on the realities of being a witch.

      Well done!

    2. Iosef Paramonov Avatar
      Iosef Paramonov

      For the love of Satan, that was a good story!

      I especially love the subtle Monty Python reference there!

      I love stories that put supernatural creatures and beings in the most mundane situations. A witch mother attempting to connect with her daughter over boyfriends is amazing and a great story to expand on.

      Well done!

    3. There’s a certain chaos here that makes me wonder if the mother even understands the difference between a potion and food anymore. Tasting it and saying it needs paprika but repeatedly referring to it as a potion, and how potions should be prepared. Rather than… soup, I guess.

  33. You Know Nothing
    By Marx

    Murphy looked skeptically at the woman before him. “You’re Lilith? THE Lilith? The first woman? Mother of monsters?”

    Lilith smiled back. “Yes, yes… Mother of dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, so on and so forth.”

    Murphy just blankly stared at her.

    Lilith chuckled. “You are a secluded little thing aren’t you, child? Nevermind. The important thing is that while it may be quite a few generations removed, I do sense my blood in you… in the most unfortunate way I’ve ever seen…”

    Murphy began to speak, but quickly discovered that he couldn’t. A muffled sound of alarm didn’t quite escape his lips when he saw Lilith’s glowing eyes.

    “Hush child. Now is when you listen. Magic is real. Demons are real. Hell is real. And with things as they currently are, the borders of Hell have broken down to the point that demons who used to be stuck there are now free to roam this world. Which makes it especially unsafe for you.

    “Think of yourself as an angler fish. Only the lure… the light, is in your very blood. Demons will be drawn to you. That you are unaware of this leads me to believe you’ve lived quite the sheltered life until now. Doing so was wise. But you are now in the open at the worst possible time. You have three options.

    “One, you go back where you came from and pray they don’t find you. Or two, you find the biggest, baddest demon and you seduce the fuck out of them. You’re part incubus. It won’t be as hard as you’d think. If they die, find the next biggest demon, rinse and repeat. That is my advice. Do with it as you will.”

    “Wait…” Murphy said, realizing he could speak again. “You said there’s a third option…”

    Murphy could see the genuine pity in Lilith’s eyes as she answered, “Yes. There is. But I’m sure you’ll figure that one out on your own.”

    “If it’s so bad, why can’t you help me yourself?” Murphy asked, before realizing he was now alone.

    1. Is the third option “die”? The third option is “die”, isn’t it?

      Interesting twist on the prompt. Witches were frequently considered to be devil spawn, or at least devil associated. Murphy has demon/devil blood. And now it is “Open Season” on him.

      There should be a Battle Royal game like this. Sort of a cross between Capture The Flag and King Of The Hill. Winner is whoever holds it the longest, or just has it at the end. … There’s actually a mode in Mario Kart 8 Deluxe like that.

      1. Lol! Yes, the third option is die.

        And I tried to make the prompt work both ways. Where the season of the witch could be Murphy playing the role as the witch, but also that the influx of demonic activity could be seen as the season of the witch as well.

        And I fully agree that I would play the Hell out of a game like that lol. I still need to get that Mario Kart. For some reason I thought I had it already and it was like, no, I have the most recent Mario and Mario Party, not Kart.

        1. You did a pretty good job of it.

          And the mode is fun. You’re in a more or less open arena and everyone is competing to hold onto a shine for as long as possible.

    2. Seems that Murphy got hit by his own law this time!

      Jokes aside, great introduction. Is this part of a series here, or is this a one shot?

      I wonder if he’ll have to keep the seduction game forever or if he drains power from ever seduced demon. Guess only time will tell.

      1. Lol I won’t lie and say Murphy’s name and his very unfortunate life have nothing to do with that law. So that particular pun is very intentional.

        To answer your other question though, this is a series. I’ve done about 4-5 stories with him so far I believe.

        And as awesome as it would be, if Murphy could siphon powers from others, part of the unfortunateness that is he, is that he has the allure and draw of an incubus without any of the power.

  34. Tamela Redfin Avatar
    Tamela Redfin

    Sorry, wrong number (Web of Reagan)

    By Tamela Redfin

    How dare that crotch creature betray me! I saw Sapphira talking to Jeremy. He was never supposed to return and that… Sapphira. Why, she ruined my life. Edison wanted me to be a mother thanks to her. She didn’t even listen to me!

    I went to my room and looked through my belongings. Wait, was that Alois’s number? I chuckled to myself. How much could I bet the lowlife would call back if I whipped up some tears?
    I quickly dialed the number. “Hallo? Cora, this isn’t a funny joke! I told you not to call this number.”

    “I’m NOT your bitch.” I snapped back. “Wait, who is this?”

    “Feldspar Augen Vene. And this?”

    “Reagan Rio.” I answered.

    “So a cypha? Ugh, my brother’s such an idiot.”

    “Before you hang up, I could maybe help you. Yes, YES, YES! I have an idea.”

    “Whoa calm your undersides. I’m listening.”

    I nodded, “Okay. I know Grey Rose. Pay me your rod, as well as forgiveness for my bloodline and I will expose my location. You know which rod I mean.”

    “Ah, an easy job.” Augen cackled, “How do I know you aren’t lying? I thought cyphas hated me.”

    “Sweet lips, I want to get my revenge on your brother. He led me down a dark path. And you? How are things with Cora?” I smirked.

    “Terrible! She’s staying with her sister because I protected her daughter and her from ridicule. I hate it.”

    “See? We could help each other. Seems fair?”

    “Deal! I’ll give you three days. And I’ll send the clone army. But if you’re lying, I will cut off your head and as for the body…”

    “No need. We’re in Western Rolt. Southern Western Rolt by the Wild River. Got that?”

    “Very good.” Sure, I was a witch, but sometimes to reach your goals, you need to screw someone.


    1. I don’t know it’s worth calling her a villain, but Reagan is a FUCKING MORON.

      She gave up so much for so little.
      She should just go punch a mirror if she wants revenge for all her problems.

  35. Skeleton Avatar
    Skeleton

    Soulbound (The Will)
    By Skeleton

    Eymir,

    I know you can read this: you were so excited when you finally understood the letters that had eluded your understanding for so long. You wouldn’t forget them, even after these twenty years.

    You’ve been gone for a long time, and I’m left to wonder if you know what’s happening in the world. Have you seen the turmoil caused by your choice to give in to destruction, or have you been blinded by it? It doesn’t really matter now. Soon, the door will give way and the crowd will get inside. Their chants of “burn the witch” don’t leave much to the imagination. My time left here is short. Perhaps I’ll feel a modicum of your suffering.

    The truth is that I miss you. I want to see you again.

    I’ve been thinking of a moment a few weeks after our wedding; I was reading a dictation on the transmutation of mana into obscure magic in bed by the candlelight, and you sat in the corner of the room just watching me. I had offered you a spot next to me, but you had said “it would ruin the view.”

    I had thought then that you were being corny, since this had taken place after eight days of continual work, sleeping only about six hours a night. I had been less than appealing physically, so the comment caught me off guard since it came from you. But the more I think about it, the more I realize how much I miss your voice. Because it wasn’t my sunken eyes you were appreciating, it was how much I loved reading that stupid book.

    I don’t understand how it’s taken me this long to realize this, but you really only wanted for me to be happy, didn’t you? For everyone that you love to be happy?

    I happily burn for you: the demon I sold my soul to. I would do so one thousand times if it meant that I could feel your eyes on me one more time.

    And I just want you to know:

    I love you.

    -Remianna

    1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      great piece!

      The will is quite emotional and I like to see that.

    2. J. J. Peterson Avatar
      J. J. Peterson

      This was a wonderful story to read. I enjoy the letter format and you do a good job showing how close the two character are. The scene of him reading in the bedroom added to his, and though it was basically the sole point of characterization, it provided everything that was need to sympathize with the characters.
      Good Job!

    3. Reinkarnitor Avatar
      Reinkarnitor

      Very emotional and very beuatiful, but at the same time also very sad. It is a nice way of portraying how a witch got her powers and I love that <ou used the original source. After all, back in the day people believed that witches got their powers form deals with demons.

      It wasn't really clear in the beginning that Eymir was one, but that was no problem at all, as it made the "Ah" effect when you realize it even better. All in all a very nice story/letter. Keep up the great work!

    4. Very beautiful. Great emotion conveyed as well. I’m very curious about what she meant with “give in to destruction”, but since this is part of a series, I assume It has been mentioned before, or will be mentioned later on.

      I hope we see more of these characters in the future. Keep up the good work!

    5. Oh the feels! This is such a powerful piece and it lends itself very well to the letter format. You did a great job of painting the situation Remianna was in, just waiting for her death on the other side of the door.

      But it’s the love she feels for Eymir and the love he clearly felt for her that takes center stage. The idea of him just happy to watch her being happy is so sweet. Which only tugs at the ol’ heartstrings more since it clearly didn’t turn out how either of them wanted.

      Excellent take on the prompt! Well done!

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