Naivety of a Witch

Three little witches on a full moon night.

Two little spells on their script with fright.

One little Ouija board moving in the light.

No little spirits left to fight.

After months of preparation on the deep dark webs of the internet, Tallulah had come to believe that her hundreds of open tab sightings gave her the ability to decipher what would transcend her for their upcoming full moon. She envisioned their spirits of the living tangled within the dead merging together to a harmonious energy. Her two friends sitting on a rickety fence about the whole ordeal. Blanch would hear nothing of the sort, though her agreeance of attendance was set in Tallulah’s stone-cold stare. Rosie didn’t say a word, and in her silent consent Tallulah orchestrated a most graceful tune that hummed in their minds of destiny and magic. A hum that even Rosie couldn’t help but find words to, like a song that was meant for them to sing and dance along. Tallulah was much more skilled than they at the hand of her practiced witchery. Incantations littered her mind just as jars of finery wine preserving rat tails and bird beaks scattered her dresser, the makings of a most whimsical disarray. Her sight was set on calling the beyond and she couldn’t do it alone. Though in her friends’ amateur practice she knew the potential they withheld, and this was just the tipping point that would push them into their full powers. Their minds third eye might still be squinted but with the help from the great undead spirits they would be blessed with an awakening like an eternal fire from within. Tallulah giggled, and it stretched smirks on her unassumed friends faces. Tallulah pulled from deep under her starry mooned bed, a black vintage Ouija board etching their skin with delight; she bit her lip as her fixed sight pulled them all in closer as to feel the eerie magic that pulsed from this relic.

“What would we even say?” coming from Rosie. Tallulah presented her scribbled script on her bamboo leaf paper, made in the backyard as she murmured to herself basking in the light of yet another full moon.

“Read them to me,” Blanch requested in a long breath as she opened her mind in a meditative space.

“Mastery of good and evil,” Rosie began, the words keeping comfort in her mouth like a warm hug engulfing her. “See evil, hear evil, speak evil. The three of true mastery,” Rosie sang the tune as Blanch soaked it in, and Tallulah watched with blissful intent.

“I wrote one for you all. Memorize it. By next week when we gather upon the hill of the North, the one with the flowers that grow dead where we often meet,” Tallulah’s eyes were wild dripping with her hopes and fears, Blanch’s ears rang with anticipation, and little Rosie knew already what to say.

“We’ll burn our old selves in a grand auburn fire and give ourselves to the three that be with our minds eye open so we can clearly see,” their smiles ached with want and greed fueling their passion to rise and be mastery witches of a new age. They could gawk and sneer at those that doubted their ability’s that aged back eons. From their jittery hands to their jittery feet, they sprang into action to meet at next silvery glass moon where the flowers grew dead.

The night sky flooded with light and wonder like the blazing fire that sat inside their half crescent circle. Gleaming faces from behind their gulped down goblets of milky mugwort each veiled in sacrificial whites. 12 fingers twitching to make their way to the great unknown. White eyed and hot from the paths they crossed as the little wooden plank convulsed them to the other side. Whipping and dashing their bodies Tallulah, Blanch, and Rosie threw their heads back as their hearts learned words spued from their quivering lips.

“They’re nearly here. I can feel it,” Tallulah uttered.

When her two protégés presented themselves to her this full mooned night she was delighted at their perfect silhouettes knowing it all by heart, she knew it would be a memorable evening, an evening of no return. And as they called out into the blackening sky, they knew not what they truly called to.

They called for sight.

They called for to hear.

They called for their lips to blessed by the spirits that could fill up their souls.

They spilled their hearts onto this board, and it slowed and sputtered to a haunting cease.

“Hello?” they called out in sync. Eyes bold, ears wide. Their souls gaping open for anyone to take.

“Did we do it right?” Rosie whispered to her cohort. Tallulah’s eyes spat fire at her concerned questioning. “Of course,” Rosie quieted.

“That sound. You hear it?” Blanch’s ears perked up.

A low grumble came through the splitting board, cracking in half like their hearts used to. Their feathery hands floating to one another’s gripping themselves to reality.

“This is it,” Tallulah smiled, and the others smiled too.

From the Ouija crack arised the blackest of smoke it hissed as it mixed with the flames of the fire. Pooling above the frozen girls, 6 red eyes blinking at their hung open mouths. Cackling laughter boomed inside their heads shaking some fright into their sudden change of hearts. The regret filled witches coiled back into each other’s arms as the smoke burned into three hideous beasts.

Rosie tried to scream but her own lips revoltingly stitched themselves shut, she looked to Tallulah, tears streaming down her face, but was horrified to see one of the giant creatures reach inside Tallulah’s blood trickling eyes and pluck them from her skull leaving two vast black holes. For Blanch, Tallulah’s screams were drowned out by the pain of her ears folding into themselves retreating into death’s-head.

These demons they so carelessly summoned now reveled in the silent ruin of the earth.