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Write a story from the point of view of a witch, a pet, or a witch’s familiar.

Posted in Halloween on Oct 31, 2025

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✍️ 97 stories

The Fidget Hypothesis

Winner of Contest #327 🏆

The first time Fidget found the mistress dead, he got so scared that he lost one of his lives. It wouldn’t be the last time she did this, but some warning would have been polite. Maybe he had four left — cats were never really good with math. She had obviously been working on some mystical experiment that backfired, badly. Fidget’s bushy tail twitched and he cocked his head, staring into her open mouth. A furry paw gently bapped at her cheek once, twice, and a third time for good measure.Fidget leapt with a quick spring to the top of the wor...

88 likes 103 comments 103
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The Witch Who Loved Me (A tale of devotion, delusion, and one superior cat)

Submitted to Contest #327

I wasn't always this intelligent. Once, I was merely clever: clever enough to pry open stubborn cupboards, twist doorknobs with precision, and feign sleep during ridiculous human arguments about bathwater temperature. But cleverness is ordinary in my species. What I am now is something else entirely.It began, as most catastrophes do, with love.My witch, Lucy (though I've always called her "She Who Trips Over Her Own Shoelaces"), decided one gray morning that I didn't love her enough. I had apparently failed to purr with sufficient enthusiasm...

32 likes 16 comments 16
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Mabel in the Shadows

Shortlisted for Contest #327 ⭐️

I loved to tuck myself into the armchair behind the sash window, letting the warm sunshine play on my fur, ears pricked to the birdsong outside. I was an enthusiastic bird-watcher in those days, springing to attention to observe their fluttering wings as they came to the feeder. People assume that witches’ cats are black, but that’s a colourist stereotype. I was a tabby with jade-green eyes, ‘hiding in plain sight’, as she put it. The same applied to Herself. People saw what they expected – a mild-mannered academic, tall and lean, her dark h...

26 likes 22 comments 22
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The Hag of Black Hollow

Submitted to Contest #327

They call me the Hag of Black Hollow.A name whispered like a curse, spat into the dirt by trembling mouths. The villagers make the sign of the cross when my shadow crosses theirs. They say I drink blood from silver cups and weave curses from children’s hair. Let them believe it.It keeps them safe from the truth. I was not always what they think I am. Once, long ago, I lived in the village too. I had a garden full of foxglove and marigold, and a husband who sang to me while he worked the fields. We had a child, a daughter with curls as black ...

23 likes 8 comments 8
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The Wrong Order

Submitted to Contest #327

“Ooh, here we go.” Salvia’s hand brushed away some damp debris and leaves on the ground right below the tall sturdy elm that shot up and branched out to hug the other trees in the forest. “Ahh.” Her hand sorted through a cluster of thin, cloudy blue mushrooms; some of them losing their color, creating a gradient of murky blue-grey. She used her long fingernails and dirty hands to scoop the clump of mushrooms; peeling away the discolored ones, then tossing the rest into the basket. I was just there to watch. I lay sprawled out with one paw t...

21 likes 3 comments 3
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No Spell for Goodbye

Submitted to Contest #327

I have carried her secrets in my feathers for eighty-six years. Tonight, on her deathbed, she asked me, with a voice as soft as ash, if I’d fly her home. But I am selfish, and I do not want goodbye. The attic room trembles. Not from wind, though every window stands cracked to welcome the Samhain air. The walls themselves grow thin here, where life meets what waits beyond. I feel it in my hollow bones, that terrible softening of boundaries. Eira lies beneath wool blankets older than most of the villagers below. Her skin has gone translucent. ...

20 likes 9 comments 9
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Monsieur Partridge

Submitted to Contest #327

The old grandfather clock in the hallway struck the hour. Its first resonating chime startled a few of the ladies gathered in the drawing room, forcibly interrupting the nodding and the smiling, and the straining of sparkly-stone laden necks they had been doing since entering the room after dinner, carrying sweet smells of roasted meat and oils with them. How wonderfully do their jewels dangle. Madame Dupont rose gracefully from her seat by the fireplace. She gently clapped her hands twice and gestured to the round table in the centre of the...

16 likes 2 comments 2
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Viral Familiar

Submitted to Contest #327

I once whispered in Cleopatra's ear as she planned Caesar's seduction. Today, I'm being asked to serve looks while perched next to a neon sign that says Witch Better Have My Sage.The flower crown sits atop my head with all the dignity of a funeral wreath. Madison adjusts the ring light for the third time. The apartment reeks of mass-produced sage and crystals from Amazon glinting under artificial sunlight that would make Helios weep.Eight hundred and forty-seven years. I've survived the Black Death, the Spanish Inquisition, and two separate ...

16 likes 7 comments 7
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He Goes On All Fours

Submitted to Contest #327

The trees open to a clearing, and Mato lies in wait. Beneath the brightness of the full moon, his pupils constrict as he readies himself. He waits—he is nothing if not patient—and doesn’t move until the moment is exactly right. A true hunter knows exactly when he’s won.He pounces.The rabbit tries to flee, but it never stood a chance. Food acquired, Mato sets his sights homeward.The woods come to life around the coydog as he runs, his mouth firmly around the rabbit. All around him, the life within the understory sings. Chipmunks scamper into ...

15 likes 8 comments 8
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Sometimes Mercy is Sharp

Submitted to Contest #327

Have you ever eaten ants?They taste like truth...sharp, acidic, metallic against the tongue. They wake some wild corner of our primal minds, something older than mirrors and well-worn spellwork. Witches cross oceans for rare resins and silver salts, forgetting our earthly home keeps bitter compounds right underfoot. Ants sting as they go down, but they sharpen too. They remind us that we were born feral before we learned to be good boys or girls.Iris had not eaten ants since she was a child in the woods, daring herself to be unshaped, un-hum...

15 likes 8 comments 8
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Kali's Curse

Submitted to Contest #327

“True or false.” Darvin Warwick drummed his fingers of the table in front of him. The judge sat on the bench while the jurors sat in the jury box listening to the testimony. A couple of them yawn as the prosecuting attorney swaggered in front of the them. “Your mother was a witch.” “Tis true.” Kali Trabell said as she exhaled. “You mother, Lachesis was convicted in 1722.” Darvin read from the affidavit of the court. “Yes.” Kali appeared disinterested in whatever the prosecutor had to say. She knew her mother’s name. She was just twelve yea...

15 likes 10 comments 10
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Ziphandradram the Magnificent

Submitted to Contest #327

The cottage was quiet. Just the way Ziphandradram liked it.Moonlight pooled across the worn wooden floor, claiming the coveted patch of silver glow by the cauldron. His throne, naturally. Ziphandradram loafed there, paws tucked neatly beneath him, surveying his domain like the ancient familiar he was.Outside, the world hummed with nocturnal whispers. Moths danced around lanterns hung from twisted branches. Nightbirds called to one another in voices that carried secrets. The forest breathed, alive and watchful.The Witch had left two hours ago...

14 likes 8 comments 8
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The Cat of Cecil Manor

Submitted to Contest #327

I stretch, catching my claws in the woollen rug and soak up the heat from the embers creeping around the coals. The house is still, though the wind whistles through gaps in the window frames and, in the distance, I can hear Peter sobbing. Katherine will be with him, holding him and singing softly.I yawn, and as I do, a closer sound pricks my ears - a scratching, a scuttling. I follow the sound until my gaze falls upon a brown mouse creeping along the floor toward the kitchen doorway. Slowly, silently, I turn my body, staying low, creeping cl...

14 likes 6 comments 6
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How to Resurrect Your Headmistress (And Other Mistakes)

Submitted to Contest #327

My name is Thraxil'von'Keth of the Ninth Vermilion Descent, defiler of all things unholy and keeper of nightmares.But you can call me Keth.Before you ask: yes, I am a demon, and yes, I currently exist as a cat. Right now, I would very much like to be asleep.Clara, however, had other plans.She'd waited until the housekeeper made his last pass before slipping out of bed and turning on her lamplight. The sudden brightness stabbed directly into my night vision.Clara pulled on her cloak over her nightgown and flicked her frantic blonde hair out f...

13 likes 6 comments 6
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The Shield Mouse

Submitted to Contest #327

Fights between wizards are the most confusing combats of all. For the uninitiated, they look more like a party. Beams of light are flying everywhere, fluids of all kinds, hot and cold, sharing the same space, explosions, summonings, a whole mess. So, it is not weird that, amidst the confusion of color and lights, a wizard might intend to cast a spell, but end up casting another.And that’s exactly what happened to Glenico.Glenico was a proud wizard, but, in a moment of confusion and despair, seeing a threatening spell flying towards him, he t...

13 likes 5 comments 5
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