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Witchcraft and Murder Craft (Gemini_Rising x DigitalBlue)

Joined
Jun 26, 2018
Location
The Final Blue
Jonathan Langdon, 38, crept to the rear of the large house. It had several bedrooms and was more of a sorority house than anything. But this house did not contain a sorority, it contained a coven. It was hidden in plain sight within the neighborhood. No one would ever thing that witches were living inside. Jon had coerced his last victim into telling him the location of this coven. He had killed 3 witches already. But he needed more blood. He couldn’t stop now.

Jon wore a black ski mask over his face. Black leather gloves covered his hands. On his body he wore close fitting, black sweater and black pants. Jon carried a duffel bag in his right hand. He stealthily stepped up to the rear porch. There was a grill and a small table for eating and mingling outside. A French door separated him from the inside. Peering in through the glass, his eyes flicked from side to side. There was no one immediately inside. He tried the knob, locked. Setting the duffel bag down he retrieved a lock pick set from one of the outer pouches and went to work picking the lock.

Got it. He unlocked the door with a satisfying click and opened it. It creaked just slightly as it slowly swung open. He placed the lock picks back into the duffel and stepped inside. Creeping around the bottom floor, he would come to find that no one was downstairs. But one room in particular interested him. The main living room was large, wooden floored and had a fire place, it would work. As he went he meticulously smashed every light bulb he could. Silently he stepped upstairs. It seemed like everyone was sleeping or at least in their rooms.

The first room was unlocked and Jon let himself in. The girl, the witch, slept soundly in her bed. Jon retrieved a knife from his duffel bag. Well it was more of a dagger. A pure silver dagger, from the grip down to the tip. It was engraved in words he could not read. He placed the tip just at the witch’s heart and pressed down. One hand went to cover her mouth as she tried to scream initially but quickly died. Tipping her, he made sure to collect the blood. Then it was on to the next and then the next.

Dragging each body to the main living room downstairs. He had stripped all of them of their clothes. There were six of them and he began the ritual. Offering up their blood in exchange for the return of his wife. When he was finished, five of the bodies were placed in a half circle around the fireplace, facing it. Their bodies were placed as if they were prostrating, worshipping. Above the fireplace was one of the bodies strung up with some rope and spikes he had brought in his bag. The body was placed with its arms outstretched, feet together. Attached to the head was a pair of deer antlers. At the center, on the floor, was spiral drawn in their blood. All this was just more fuel to add to the fire that would eventually bring back his wife. Even if he had to kill all the witches in the city.



Connor Ambrose, 31, jolted awake the next morning. He was drenched in a cold sweat. The morning sun seeped in through his blinds. He checked the clock, 10:34. Connor was late, very late, again. Well, there was no use rushing now he would just take whatever verbal beating the chief had in store for him when he got there. Climbing out of bed he padded to the kitchen. His apartment was sparsely decorated and he needed to clean up. Starting s pot of coffee he headed to the bathroom and hopped in the shower. After his shower he got dressed in a suit, grabbed his gun and badge. Then sat in his kitchen sipping coffee.

Where was his phone? He patted himself, realizing he hadn’t checked his phone yet he bet that the chief was furious. Walking back into his bedroom he spotted it on the bedside table. He grabbed it and unplugged it. Looking at the screen he had several missed calls. All of which were not from the chief, but from one of the other detectives, Barry. Connor placed the phone to his ear and called him back.

“Ambrose,” Barry answered. “You gotta get down here and check this out.”
 
Davina Claire, 26, knew something was wrong. She could sense it in her bones. The spirits were trying to tell her something but she couldn't make out what it was. Voices in her head whispered and shouted over one another but none of it made sense. All she knew was that witches were in trouble but what could she do? She was still learning the craft and communicating with the spirits was beyond her skill level. But she knew enough that they were trying to warn her about something. But that didn't help her if she didn't know what was coming.

That night the beauty tossed and turned trying to get some rest but it was no use. The spirits wouldn't let her rest until she tried to communicate with them. Although from past experiences they didn't always know much. Just glimpses of what has happened. Davina sighed as she climbed out of bed. She brushed her thick blonde hair out of the way and went to her alter room. This is where she went to practice her craft but also to become more connected with the spirits. Davina took her time lighting the candles in the room to pay respect to the witches who had come before her. Sitting down in front of the alter Davina closed her eyes and chanted softly to herself as she caught glimpses of what the other side was trying to show her.

Davina was shown glimpses of what was unmistakably a coven's house. The tell tale signs of magic in the air and the ingredients in the garden told Davina they practiced. She then was lead inside the house to witness a bloodbath. Women around her age thrown across the floor in a ritual like formation. For what reason? She had no idea. A grandfather clock chimed throughout the house twelve times telling Davina it was midnight. There was no helping these girls. They were dead. All she could do was help find the killer. Davina couldn't help but watch helplessly as a figure appeared out of thin air. The apparition in question pointed towards the fire place and the sight there made Davina gasp. A young woman was tied up and spiked onto the wall. Davina covered her mouth as she looked away. She had seen enough. "He's coming back...he needs more sacrifices. He won't stop." The ghost said woefully. "Find Ambrose..." Without another words the vision ended and Davina opened her eyes drenched in sweat. A gust of cool wind blew through the room snuffing out the candles around her. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She knew what she had to do. She had to find Ambrose. How he could help she didn't know. But the spirits wouldn't lead her in the wrong direction.

------

The next morning was rough. Davina barely had any rest throughout the night. All she saw when she closed her eyes was those young girls cut up and discarded without a care in the world. The blonde quickly got ready in the morning and made her way towards the coven's house.It took about half an hour but by the time she got there police cruisers and new vans were surrounding the area. Davina turned her car off and sat there in silence for a moment. She sent out a silent prayer that those girls are able to find peace in the afterlife. Davina took a deep breath before she climbed out the car and walked over to the police tape separating the new crews and the authorities.

Her green eyes scanned the crowd trying to figure out who she could speak to. Ambrose had to be there. He just had to be. The spirits thought he could help and she needed to help. How she would convince him to let her help was beyond her but she had try. Very faintly she heard someone say "Ambrose. You gotta get down here and check this out.”. Davina made a beeline towards the man. He hung up the phone before she could snatch it out of his hand. "Were you speaking to Ambrose? I need to speak with him. Please it's urgent!" Davina said as she looked over to the house. Where those girls were undoubtedly laying there naked for the entire world to see. Her stomach bubbled at the thought of them being treated in such a manner.

"Ma'am you aren't allowed to be back here. If you would just-" But before the officer could finish his sentence Davina practically screamed. "Please! I just need to see Ambrose!" He tried to give her a reassuring smile as he shook his head. "Ma'am he's not here but anything you need to say to him you can say to me." Davina shook her head no and stood her ground. "I have information and I'm only going to talk to Ambrose. I'll stand right fucking here until he gets here." She said as crossed her arms across her chest. The man blinked for a few moments before nodding his head. "Sure I'll text him and let him know you have information for us." With that he pulled his phone out once more and texted Ambrose.
 
Connor poured coffee into a black coffee mug and placed the lid over it. Double checking himself, he made sure he had his gun, wallet and badge. He grabbed his keys and exited his apartment. While riding the elevator down he felt his phone vibrate. Reaching into his pocket he pulled it out. A text from Barry appeared on the screen. It read:

Got a woman here. Won’t talk to me. Says she has some information for you.

Connor placed the smartphone back into his pocket as the elevator doors slid open. He sauntered out into the hallway and made his way outside into the courtyard. Woman huh? Could be a witness. Walking out of the main gate he walked to the curb where his car was parked. It was a brownish grayish colored police cruiser, unmarked. He unlocked it and climbed into the driver’s seat. Starting the engine he placed his phone into the holder on the dashboard and plugged in the gps. Pulling away from the curb he drove towards the crime scene. As he drove down the road his phone began to ring. He looked at the caller ID, it was the chief. He answered sending it to the car’s Bluetooth.

“Connor!” The chief bellowed. “Do you know what time it is? Barry’s been trying to get a hold of you all morning!”

“Yeah, chief I know. I’m headed there now.” Connor replied.

“This is the sixth time you’ve been late. At some point you need to clean up your act, son. You’re not a kid anymore.” The chief hung up and Connor rolled his eyes.

About 15 minutes later Connor pulled in amongst the various vehicles surrounding the house. He shut off the engine and stepped out. Forensics was already there as well as a few other cops. Connor started towards the house and ducked under the yellow police line. Barry spotted him and jogged up to Connor. “Abrose, that lady, she’s really itching to talk to you. Won’t tell me anything.” Barry spoke softly to Connor and gestured behind him with his thumb. Looking past Barry he spotted a blonde woman.

Turning he started towards the front steps of the house. “I’ll talk to her once I’ve checked out the scene. Is she the one who called it in?” Connor asked as he walked up the steps, Barry following him.

“Uh, no, that was the cleaning lady. Walked in like it was a normal day, found the scene inside.” Barry replied. “Took a statement from her earlier.”

Connor stepped inside the house, the large front door was propped open. Immediately he didn’t see anything but then he looked up, light bulb in the foyer was smashed, he took a mental note. Then he walked into the main living room. It was a large room, a fireplace as a focal point, the eyes were naturally drawn there. The blinds were drawn but some natural light spilled in. Forensics already had numbered any evidence in here. He wasn’t horrified by the scene in front of him but that didn’t mean he didn’t think it was terrible. Terrible what happened to these girls.

With respect he began to examine the scene. Immediately it looked like some sort of ritual to him. Five of the girls were nude and placed in a semicircle around the fireplace. They were posed there post-mortem. He looked at the symbol drawn onto the wood flooring. A spiral. He crouched down and looked at the medium used to paint the symbol he immediately recognized it as blood. But there was something at the center of the spiral. Gazing closer he saw a symbol, an ankh, burned into the floor. It was small, easy to miss with the large spiral. Symbol for life.

Turning his attention upward he looked above the fireplace at the woman strung up and nailed to the wall. They must have been a strong person to get her up there. Like the other girls she was nude and had been pierced in the heart once, her arms outstretched, feet together. Like the crucifixion. But there wasn’t a cross and instead of a crown of thorns placed on her head it was antlers. It seemed like some sort of bastardization of Christianity. It seemed cultish, perhaps a cult attempted a ritual in the dead of night on these poor girls.

“Let’s get these girls over to the lab to see if they can pull anything.” Connor looked down and turned to Barry. Then he saw the blonde woman from outside standing at the doorway behind Barry. Barry did sort of a double take and spun around.

“Hey, you shouldn’t be in here.” Barry started and went to push her out. But Connor interrupted him.

“It’s fine, if she wants to be in here so bad, let her.” He sauntered up to her, hands in his pockets. “From what I understand you have some information for me?” He raised an eyebrow towards her.
 
Davina kept checking her phone as the minutes seemed to crawl by. What kind of detective showed up to a murder investigation late. In fact, how was his boss not chewing him out already. What kind of man did the spirits lead her to? Based off of what she saw he didn't seem like he'd be much help. Davina sighed softly as she checked the time on her phone again. If he was any later he wouldn't even have time to examine the bodies before they were moved. Didn't he care about the fact that these women were slain in their home. A place where a person should feel the safest.

At last Davina spotted a car pulling up to the crime scene. A man parked the car and made his way towards the house. Without even waiting to see if Barry ran over Davina knew that was Ambrose. He eyed him from across the lawn. She watched as Barry walked over to the man. He was no doubt telling him that a crazy woman was there waiting to talk. She turned away before he looked. She didn't want him to know she had been staring. Davina had hoped that Ambrose would make his way over to her first but he went inside of the house. Everything this man did already rubbed her the wrong way. She needed a professional and she felt the spirits gave her a man who didn't care.

The witch gave them a few minutes to see if they would come back out but when it didn't look like they would she made a decision. She looked around to make sure none of the other officers would stop her before she ducked under the yellow police tape and made her way inside. She looked over her shoulder quickly before she rushed inside closing the front door behind her.

Davina could hear to clear distinct masculine voices talking in the living room. The witch took a deep breath before walking into that room. She didn't want to have to look at their lifeless bodies again but if she wanted to give these women the justice they deserved she would have to.

Before she could even get a word out Ambrose quickly turned around and said she should stay even after Barry protested her being there. She was taken aback for a moment but she stood tall. She was there with a purpose and she wouldn't leave until he listened to her. "I do have some information for you. But before I tell you he needs to leave." Davina said her green eyes flickering over to Barry. The man opened his mouth to protest but the detective stopped him. Barry shook his head in disbelief before leaving the living room.

Even though she had a night to prepare she didn't know what to say when she was finally alone with the man. "I'm Davina. And you were late. Do Detective's normally arrive that late? Or are they much more prepared than you?" Her eyes glanced over towards the girls laying naked and dead. She grimaced before continuing. "I don't think you could even begin to understand what happened here last night. But I can help with that...last night when I found out..." She paused debating in that moment if she should tell him how she knew. If he even caught her slip.

"Look the reason I wanted to talk to you is because I can help you. There are things that you'll try to explain away or brush off as the work of a crazed lunatic but you need my help." She pleaded with him. She knew nothing about this man. She had no idea if he would laugh in her face. If he would get angry. If he would just dismiss her but she had to try to help with this case.
 
Connor stood listening to her after he sent out Barry. He humored her, he didn't really think she had any information. What could she know that he didn't already? He had already linked the scene to the other three that they found in his mind. Everything matched; the ritualistic markings and posing, the motive, targeting females. Even the calling card was the same, the smashed light bulbs. Then his train of thought halted. ”When you found out?” Connor raised an eyebrow at her. ”What does that mean exactly? How come you didn't call the police? And what were you doing here last night?” Suddenly he was questioning her.

This woman didn't really fit the profile he had constructed in his head. First of all, she was female, he theorized that the suspect was male. He was doing this for revenge in someway. Perhaps he was taking out his anger from his wife leaving him. But I'm this woman in front of him didn't strike him as vengeful or hateful. His judgment of individuals was pretty good. But at the same time, he knew nothing about her. He didn't even know her name but she knew his. This could all be an elaborate plan to get close to him and throw him off the trail.

”If you weren't here then who told you about this? Why were they here last night? Did you see who did it?” Then he sighed. This wasn't an interrogation, there wasn’t anything directly tying her to the scene. So there wasn’t any reason for him to take her in for questioning. For all he knew she could’ve been a neighbor who just heard something and wanted to feel involved. Or she was just crazy. At the same time he was just doing his job. She mentioned something him dismissing her. Like she was magic or something. He almost laughed. “Alright then, try me. Help me out.” He looked almost expectant of her. As if she was going to pull the picture of the killer out of her pocket. “You can start by telling me your name.”
 
Davina eyed Connor for a moment. Even though the spirits guided the witch towards him she wasn't sure if she could trust him. Davina had been burned in the past by men. She didn't want or need it to happen to her again. But as she said it she caught a glimpse of one of the girls on the ground. Pale and lifeless as she laid there broken and discarded. She owed it to these girls to at least try. Davina took a big sigh and closed her eyes. She would curse this man's balls off if he double crossed her. She promised it to herself. If the spirits led her wrong she would also curse them albeit that would be silently.

She opened her eyes again and looked the man dead in the eyes. "I'll tell you everything that I can. But you need to promise me that you'll listen to me with an open mind. I need you to trust me. What I'm going to tell you is going to sound crazy to someone like you." Her heart pounded in her chest as prolonged actually saying it. She knew that non-magic people have reacted in violent ways. Look at the man who was killing these young witches. What was to stop this stranger...this cop from killing her. Or even getting her admitted into a psych hospital.

After Connor nodded his head Davina took another deep breath. It was now or never. She would just have to hope that he wasn't an ass. "My name is Davina Claire...And I know that what I said earlier might have made me seem like I might be involved with this but you have to believe me. I had nothing to do with this." She searched his eyes to try and gauge if he was following her or even believing her. "Someone told me they were killed. Well people...well I guess they aren't people anymore..." She said as she started to ramble a bit. She looked at Connor's confused face and she sighed. She was going to have to come clean. "Well...spirits told me they were dead. But you need to believe me. I'm not crazy or unstable." She said her bright green eyes pleading with him.
 
“Uh huh.... spirits.” Connor furrowed his brow contemplating for a moment. At this point he honestly didn’t feel like this lead would go anywhere. But something tugged at him, not physically or mentally, but it was more like a feeling. It was like an aura radiating from Davina, that wanted him to pursue this lead.

“And these... spirits, I’m assuming told you to come here?What are you like a witch or shaman or something?...” Connor trailed off, witches. The victims were a coven of witches. In their delusion, it’s possible the suspect must’ve thought somehow these witches could add to the ritual. It’s possible that the other victims could be witches as well. Now this was lead he could pursue that didn’t involve spirits. His attention had been taken off of Davina as the gears turned in his head. There really wasn’t anything she could give him at this point, he sighed. “Well, miss Clair. I need to get going. If you have any information or if the spirits tell you any more, here’s my card. The number on there is my cell.” Connor pulled the card out from the inner pocket of his jacket and held it out for Davina to take.

Connor went to walk towards the front door. He paused before exiting, briefly turning back to Davina. “It’s not that I think you’re crazy, but I just can’t waste time talking to spirits when a killer is out there.” He turned back then stepped outside. Magic, witches, spirits all of that stuff wasn’t real and Connor knew that. He wasn’t about to wait around for Davina to try and probe to him something that didn’t exist. Walking down the front porch steps, Barry approached him from the lawn.

“So what’d she want?” Barry inquired walking with Connor.

“Nothing.” Connor replied plainly. “Just don’t let her hang around for too long.” Connor strode up to his car unlocking it with his FOB and climbed in. Pausing he looked back towards the house. He felt bad for discounting Davina like that. Connor sighed before turning forward.

—————

Jonathan sat in the driver’s seat of his car. Looking up he peer led through his rear view mirror. Down the street he watched the detective exit the coven house and head towards his car. Jonathan looked back down as he sketched a rough portrait of the detective’s face. He was parked someways down but he knew for sure this was his face. The more he watched him when ever he closed his eyes he could see him. The detective would become a problem in the end. But not before Jonathan was finished with his task. Well, as long as the detective didn’t get any help from outside sources. Jonathan had designed everything in order prevent investigators from finding him. From rituals, the witches he killed and the forces guiding him, the detective shouldn’t be a problem. Looking forward, Jonathan drove away.
 
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