This week the prompt was to write a Fantasy Piece. Aware the next book in my North Berwick series was "Witches v Zombies" Anne Marie challenged me to write a story from a witches perspective. Who was I too argue.
There’s a lot more to witchcraft than demons and orgies. Being a witch isn’t easy. Well it’s a lot harder than the “mundane” think. I mean, look at this face, it takes a bit of time perfecting this look. Green complexions just don’t come naturally, and I put the effort in to look this ugly. For badness sake do you think I wake up looking like I’m ready for a night in the woods with my fiery eyes, huge hooked nose and warts? I’ll tell you it takes a while to put your face on in the evening and you’ve got to look your worst if you’re going out for orgy in the forest with the creatures of the night. That’s why I work hard on my figure and appearance. I spend hours working out at the cauldron getting myself in shape and honing my crooked body. If your going to have an evil night out on the countryside hoping to snare the most grotesque looking devil goat then you just must look your worst.
But that’s only the half of it. I spend a lot of time hunting down the most putrid cosmetics. Make up for the mundane is easy. They just sit with their Avon catalogue or nick down to perfume counter at Jenners. Absolutely ridiculous! Any witch worth her salt wouldn’t be seen alive with the latest edition of unbecoming. It’s not just as simple as ordering a fetid Hemlock Number 7 online for us. We need to fly around the country on our broom sticks capturing little children so we can pop them in our cauldrons and boil down their fat and bones to make potions or ointments fit for a witch. Innocent children are better for the recipes, but corruptible ones have their uses. Possessing them with a demon can provide a wicked bit of day time entertainment and if you need some practise, their soft little bodies are ripe to sicken with spells when your sharpening your incantations.
The Anti-social life is wild though. My sister Hecate and I were hanging out in a cavern once with one of the sisters having a wee night in with a couple of wicked potions when Mundane McBeth appears. Well to be fair we’d sort of bewitched him on the heath and we knew he was coming but you know what it’s like. We’re giving it the double, double toil and trouble song and he gets all spellbound and goes on a killing spree. What a cackle we had with that boy. Aye he was a cracker.
Then there was the night we enchanted a few of the Panners. You know those little mundaners that worked on the salt pans near Musselburgh. We took them on a wild night out at the Auld Kirk in North Berwick. Satan’s word. I ended up frolicking with the Devil himself on the church alter. That was an encounter I’ll never forget. I know the deil’s had all us witches and I’m nothing special but it’s the little things that made a night memorable. That was a sic party and the after-dinner entertainment was something else. They tortured and burnt 70 odd people just for us. Those Panners went up like pyrotechnics. Must have been the salt! Who knows, but it was a worthy end to the event.
Oh, we’ll I’d better fly. I need to let the cat in, and I’ve got a new broomstick. Don’t get me wrong the new broom is slick but I’m still a bit rusty on the reversing and parallel parking has always been a night mare. It’s the devils will. He decreed woman would never master reverse parking even before we had cars. I’m always breaking my birch twigs if I try to reverse through the broom cupboard door. Anyway, it’s time to go. I’m off down the occult with a few sisters from Eastwick. We’ll get our drab robes on and tonight, I think we’re banishing a few priests before looking at the magical properties of cat entrails. It should be an interesting night. A little singing, dancing and ritualistic devil worship before some putrid looking demon goat makes an appearance and my skin will start crawling. No doubt I’ll be run through the rudiments of reverse parking again but that’s devil worship we like a bit of cursing.
Oh well I can’t cackle on all night about orgies in the forest and Satanic worship I’ve a small child in the Cauldron who should be just about cooked. I don’t want her overdone so I must fly.