Witchcraft isn't Dead (RippledStatic x Sketchyequine)

[Sketchyequine]

​

People didn't believe in witches anymore. The legends were older than America itself but modern people ignored them much like how they ignored the existence of God and the Devil. However, such an ancient evil was not so easily eradicated. Witches had been working their magic for thousands of years, and they each lived for hundreds if they were any good at the arts. However, for the witches to live the blood of man and woman had to be spilled. The dark lord was not appeased easily, so, in order to maintain her long life, Abigail Good preyed on the hearts and souls of men and women alike in the state of Massachusetts.

The women let a small chuckle slip between her ruby lips as she continued weaving leaves and vines into her pale tendrils. In the background she could hear the screams of the woman tied down spread eagle on a stone table amongst a gathering of trees. It was a dark night in the forest, but candles on all sides illuminated the sights. Both witch and victim were naked. Abigail herself was almost as pale of flesh as her silver hair. Her body almost illuminated in the firelight as she walked back to the bound woman with a blade in hand. A smile smile crossed her lips. Abigail had killed thousands of people. The woman no longer felt any remorse over the action.

“This will teach you to go home with any pretty thing willing to spread her thighs, my love. You really should be more careful.” She cooed before leaning over the sobbing woman and pressing their lips together. Abigail’s kiss was soft and sweet, but the intent behind it was cruel. It was a shallow comfort that she gifted to the woman she had fucked and soon would kill. Her kiss, however, was tender and sweet like that of a lover. But as soon as she pulled her lips back, Abigail drove the knife home- burying it deep into the abdomen of the woman. The stranger let out a blood curdling screech of agony and terror in response to the life being ripped from her body as her blood began to spill.

Abigail removed the knife and laid it on the stone as the woman made desperate pleas for her life to be spared. Abigail hushed the woman before dipping her fingers and long, stiletto manicure into the wound which she had just caused: covering her fingertips in the familiar crimson. The witch began chanting in ancient latin as she used the blood to begin painting symbols over her naked body. Her thighs, stomach, breasts, and even tattooed arms were pleased with intricate designs all drawn with the life-giving substance. The woman just kept on bleeding and Miss Good just kept on painting and chanting. It was a vile ritual, but it was one that Abigail was quite familiar with. There was someone in the city who she wished to be rid of, and this sacrifice would ensure their untimely death. The chanting grew louder and louder until finally… it ceased and everything went quiet and still for a moment before Abigail drove the knife into the throat of the woman to finish the kill. In a bar downtown… a man who had crossed the witch dropped dead instantly.

Abigail smiled and began weaving between the trees toward home as all the candles went dark. The light illumination made by the moon shone off of her breasts and supple hips. Her bare feet kissed the forest floor as she walked and the dead woman’s blood dripped from her fingertips as she walked. Abigail lived in a secluded home that appeared completely unsuited for housing such an immaculate creature as her, but that was the location she had called home for hundreds of years. While the building had changed after having to be rebuilt several times it still remained planted on the site where abigail had made her very first kill. A morbid place to call home, perhaps, but there was nothing about Abigail that wasn’t morbid or cruel. After all she was a daughter and wife to Satan himself.

Purring slightly under her breath Abigail recalled that fateful night when she truly gave herself over to the dark lord. She had fucked the man to gain his trust, like she did with almost all of her victims, hen she went about the long and arduous process of giving her soul away- beginning with chanting and singing and ending with the man’s entrails spewed across the room. The happy memory caused the woman to let out a methodic laugh that echoed off the the tree bark all around her. Her feminine sweet voice was enticing to men and women alike. Anyone who heard or saw her was drawn in to their ultimate doom if Abigail chose to follow through. Countless times campers or hikers would show up at her door just because they had heard her singing or laughing- everything about her was a trap.​

[/align]

 

[RippledStatic]

Science had truly begun to replace superstition and fear in the past century, people didn’t look to the sky and ask their preachers for solutions to the inexpiable, a quick check on the internet could answer any multitude of questions about nearly any topic imaginable and witchcraft and devil worship seemingly had no place in what was more and more becoming a logical world. But of course what better place to hide than in the ignorance of humans? one can’t be counted as a threat if ones own existence is thought impossible and so the world learned and the world forgot in equal measure.

Fear couldn’t always be called logical.

Lucas was much more concerned with bears and wolves in the more remote areas of Massachusetts than he was with the stories and tales of old, Massachusetts was about as ancient as America could be and it’s history full of sordid and dark tales, witchcraft, hangings, beings beyond description had all seemingly chosen the place to call home, but it was all centuries dead and now was only home to people, human beings like the 25 year old who was on the last stages of a nearly year long trek across the country. Lucas had left home to go to college in California and after 4 years of schooling and 2 years attempting to make something worthwhile with said schooling, he had simply decided to “walk home” Catching rides here and there and never really rushing to leave the small towns he found himself in Lucas had not yet regretted his decision to do so.

Something had come over him as he crossed the invisible barrier between New York and his home state, some bolstering sense of homecoming some tingle in the air that Massachusetts seemed to hold. He knew very little of his heritage besides that his family had always lived in Massachusetts going back somewhere between 8 and 12 generations, his dad never seemed to stick to a number the times he had asked him. The forest, despite being over a hundred miles from his actual home, somehow had a nostalgic air to it and he breathed in the fresh air greedily as he pulled himself up the rocky hill. His backpack well worn, his clothes equally so, it wasn’t hard to tell Lucas was a backpacker and one who knew the trade well. He’d joined a few groups along the way and traveled with them but no one was with him now and he very well could be the only human for miles.

But he wasn’t.

As he pulled himself up onto the ridge his eyes squinted and almost immediately he caught a glimpse of the telltale straight lines of human structure. A house....a house out in the woods?

A firm but muted knock echoed through the house, the man who stood at the door looked up at it with doubtful eyes, who would live in such a place? It had to be abandoned but the curiosity was much too strong. The mans eyes returned to the door and he raised his fist to knock again, deciding three knocks before entering. He was handsome, a mess of brown hair and several days lacking in a shave giving him something of a beard. He was tall and lithe but well muscled from the travels, his skin tanned for similar reasons, he leaned over to eye one of the darkened windows. Why was he even bothering if he kept on pushing he might make it to a familiar town by the end of the night, it was still quite early.

He was close and yet he had never been so far from home.

 

[Sketchyequine]

Abigail spent time in her home with ice cold water rolling over her ice cold skin. The water ran red and to went down the drain constantly. The bitch had made a huge mess all over her. Abigail let out a quiet laugh as she continued to scrub her nail beds clean of all the gore she had caused. The water trailed along her bare breasts and hips as it cleaned her of the blood, but she would never be clean of her sins. A witch was built to commit sin for that was what the dark lord fed off of. If she did not sin by spilling blood her master would go hungry, and she couldn’t have that. A weak master meant for a weak daughter, and Abigail wallowed in the power she was able to tap into. It allowed her to do unimaginably horrible things to greedy men.

Witchcraft was a very seductive art. Abigail was always in tune with her sensuality and the desires of the flesh. It was why her victims were so drawn to her, and it made it easy for her to draw them in. After all, human revolved around sex and desire. It was like offering cheese to a rat before the trap snapped closed. Abigail drifted out of the running water and turned off the shower head before wrapping her curvaceous body in a silk robe that clung to her and left very little to the imagination as she wandered from her bathroom toward the common area. She began lounging on the velvet furniture where she planned to read ancient scripture until daybreak- she didn’t sleep at night.

That’s when the knock can at the door. She glanced over her shoulder and hummed quietly to herself in response. “It’s not every day that a mouse come knocking at the cat’s door.” She whispered to herself before standing. Her long, wet, silvery hair remained cemented to the back of her neck as a result of the shower she had just taken. She padded, barefoot, towards the front door as her hands loosened up the tie on her robe and allowed it to sag around her shoulder and expose her breast as much as possible without exposing her areola. She she opened the door and leaned against the wooden frame. “Good evening, little mouse.” She purred, eyeing him up and down quite carefully.

From the outside the house was a trash heap, but inside there was a magical transition. The home had no electricity, but it did have running water that she could use for bathing. The inside was grand with dark, wooden walls decorated with candlesticks and oil paintings while red satin furniture and books took up space in the middle of the expansive wood floors. It looked like something straight out of a rich man’s home in the time period in which Abigail was born. Modern individuals thought it a bit odd and unique, but it had never stopped them from climbing into abigail’s bed.

“Come in.” She purred to him. “I’ll pour you a drink.” She noted before stepping out of the doorway.

 

[RippledStatic]

Something felt off the moment the door opened, it wasn't that the house didn't have electricity, it wasn't that the inside seemed so different then the outside, the whole thing just felt off. Despite himself he took a step in as she opened the door "Thank you, I'm just on my way home but I've still got several hours to go and so I thought I might see if anyone was home, I hope I'm not interrupting." He spoke and watched the woman step back into the house. Something about the woman simply oozed sexuality, it wasn't her confidence or the way she looked or how she carried herself or spoke it was more ethereal in a way. He watched her move and found himself almost unable to look away.

Lucas peered down the hallway and glanced into each of the rooms, all were similarly decorated in an antiquated way, the house looked from the outside as if it had not been maintained since 1765 and the interior looks like it still was 1765....Some small part of his mind was warning him that something was very very wrong, but Lucas was only human and a man at that. Her robe simply could not have been made for a woman of her....size it seemed to just hint at the very curve of her full bosom, the hem just barely covering her backside. It was hard not to stair but even as enthralled as the young man was he managed to hold onto some of his tact and stole only a few glasses when he thought she was not looking.

What was wrong with him? his mind felt lost and scattered, he shouldn't be in here...

The candles were the only source of light causing shadows to flicker across her skin, he was staring again, her legs this time. "I'm Lucas, sorry to intrude" he suddenly explained and sighed, trying to relax his mind, she was a woman, a very attractive woman and perhaps he was a bit enamored, it wasn't that strange for such secluded houses or cabins to not have electricity, maybe she was some sort of enthusiast, stuck in a time she wasn't born in? it was the only logical explanation he could manage.

"A drink sounds really good, sorry I've sort of been on the road for a while" he said as if to try and excuse his behavior.

 

[Sketchyequine]

Abigail smiled mischievously once her back was turned to the man. She had just completed a sacrifice, so she didn't really need another. However, he had just shown up on her doorstep. How was she supposed to let this gift from her dark lord go to waste? She would play with her food a little before she did the deed, but she had every intention of keeping this traveler for future use. It never hurt to have one in reserves until she needed just a bit more power. It wouldn’t be hard to keep him around. Abigail was quite… accommodating to her guests. They were comfortable up until she spilled their blood. She’d offer up whatever she needed to in the meantime to keep him there: including her own body.

“You must be very tired then, sir.” She whispered, moving to a small bar near the satin couched where she poured bourbon over perfectly square ice cubes that looked like they belonged in some high end bar somewhere. She then capped the crystal bottle of bourbon and carried the glass to her new glass. She hadn’t put anything in his drink although she was not above doing such things. Drugs kept her victims ignorant to how much danger they were actually in, and it made it all the easier for her to overpower them when the time came. Although, at least that night, she would allow this man to keep his wits about him. She placed the beverage into his hands and helped him out of his backpack, her hands gently grazing over his shoulders and biceps suggestively. She even allowed her breath to tickles at the hairs on the back of his neck before she carried his backpack to an empty lounge chair near the stairs.

“You’re welcome to stay the night if you would like.” She offered, her voice low and sultry. “As you can imagine, I don’t get a whole lot of visitors. I’d be glad of some company.” She smiled as sweetly as she could possibly muster, but the entire facade was faked. Abigail was not just a friendly hermit: She was the most dangerous person Lucas had ever met. The fact he was eying her already meant he would be a very useful visator indeed. He would be easy to tempt beyond logical reason. “I have plenty of spare rooms.” She whispered. “Or I have extra room in my bed for a handsome young man like yourself.”

He had never been made an offer quite like that, she was confident. Being a traveler she could only assume it had been a long time since he had last felt the warmth of a woman’s embrace.

 

[RippledStatic]

The whole thing stank, alarm bells should have been blaring in his head, but they weren't, this wasn't a fairy tail she was a lonely stranger out in the woods who rarely got visitors there couldn't be any other ulterior motive right? He took the glass and sipped at his thoughtfully, it was pretty high quality stuff if he knew his drinks, or was that just because she had a crystal decanter? His inhale was just a bit to sharp and she could tell her breath had set him on edge, exactly the way she wanted it to.

"The night?...." part of him said no that if he only stayed for a few minutes, had a drink and maybe chatted her up he could be home by sunset, but the woman....

"I...I suppose I could, I'd had to be a tease and just leave you after only saying hello..." he hadn't intended it to come across the way it did and it practically answered her next question for him. Quite taken aback by her blatant offer he took another long drink "Uh...lets see where the night goes?" it was as non-committal as he could get, something was indeed beginning to feel just a bit off in an indescribable way, of course most normal humans did not get to be in the presence of a daughter of satan even once in their lives so they did not exactly have much to compare the strange dark allure to.

That part of his answer was likely a few steps back from what she had anticipated or expected, most men would have been trying to rush her already, eager to bed such a beauty and unaware of what that meant for them afterward. This small rebellion, even unbeknownst to him, would be of some special note.

"I'm um, very flattered by your offer" he said with a smirk, Lucas wasn't exactly a playboy but he wasn't a prude either, though one night stands were not something he had really indulged in, much less so not two minutes after stepping into a womans home. He placed the glass down on a nearby side table and stretched his shoulders and arms, glad to be out of the backpack for a time "its...quite a home you have here" he said gazing up at the high ceilings, it really did look like something not out of place two centuries prior.

 

[Sketchyequine]

“I don’t get many visitors.” She lied, looking up at him as he drank. “An I’m guessing that since you’ve been walking for so long you don’t get many offers like this. Am I correct?” She whispered, looking him over. He would make a fine sacrifice for her dark master. If she could just convince him to stay she might get lucky as well before she carved into his flesh. The past few months only women had been biting and Abigail was ready to indulge in the male body once more. She had missed it, and Lucas looked good enough to eat from behind her rose-colored glasses. “Flattered by my offer gets us nowhere, Lucas, but if you insist on being such a prude I suppose I can give you a tour. After all, you seem oddly enthralled by my home.” She huffed before stepping off, holding the silk robe to her body.

She walked towards the living room which they could see from where the stood near the door, but they had yet to enter. She then allowed him time to look as he candles flickered and the red and mahogany tones seemed to glow in the warm lighting. “I have to electric lights, though I have installed some plumbing to allow for running water. A hot shower to get cleaned p is… essential in my line of work.” She intentionally avoided the details, though she would come up with something if he further questioned her employment. “So… all the lighting is reliant on candles. I make them in the back shed when I run low.” She nodded simply before beginning up the staircase with the man in tow. His angle behind and below her would give his a slight peak underneath the boom hem of her robe.

“The furniture is centuries old, far predating yourself. It’s been kept in such immaculate condition thanks to meticulous care and cleaning. It still looks like its newly delivered by a carpenter, doesn't it?” She smiled a bit crookedly. She had sacrificed the carpenter that had furnished her home long ago when he had accepted sex as a payment for some of is works. It was his last mistake. “There are more bedrooms than I need, and I keep most of them locked, but I do have a guest room along with my own master bedroom- both of which follow the same color scheme as downstairs. As you might be able to guess I like red. It reminds me of the blood pumping in our veins, Lucas.” She whispered eerily as she stood in the doorway of her master bedroom and allowed him to look in.

The bed was massive and rond, adorned with red bedding that was neatly pulled and tucked until it looked perfectly made. There were four secure bed posts around the bed, much more sturdy than would be thought necessary, but they were a part of Abigail’s games. On either side of the bed were small dresses with locking drawers that remained locked and could only be opened with the skeleton key that hung around the witch’s neck and nestled between her breasts. That same key opened the locked bedrooms that Abigail often used as holding cells or torture chambers for her victims when specific rituals needed to be performed. There was only one key, and Lucas would not be able to get it seeing as Abigail had put curses on it to ensure it remained with her and her alone. Across the room was a wardrobe filled with various garments: some appearing as out of place in this time period as her interior decorating while others seemed perfectly modern- those were the clothes she used for hunting.

Abigail slipped past Lucas and began to walk towards the bed with her back to the man as he kept sipping on that damned scotch. As she walked, her fingers loosened up the knot about her waist until her robe fell open and she pushed it off of her shoulders exposing the pale flesh of her shoulder blades, back, and plump posterior. Abigail good was completely naked as she stood with her back to her guest, agrin on her face as she looked over her pointed shoulder at him with her silver locks cascading down her back. “Now…. Are you going to come and fuck me or not?”

 

[RippledStatic]

He couldn’t only grin sheepishly as she reacted, unaware just what game she was playing, despite his thoughts to the contrary “I suppose not, so far out here....” he nodded “and yes...the trails are rather lonely and the other people I see are for perhaps an hour or two at most...” he didn’t expressly say he didn’t get any action but the wording was still obvious. As she led him away, and deeper into her lair, he followed suit, still something was off and still something was tugging at the back of his skull like the animal part of his brain was screaming at him to run as the logical side saw only a gracious...and perhaps very forward, if a bit strange, hostess.

Up the stairs, he marveled at the place and almost wanted to say if she every sold it she could likely turn it into a museum, though as his eyes turned to look at her he was greeted with a rather alluring sight of both her backside and long legs, just a peek of something more as well, just to tease as if she knew exactly how to position her body for it.

“You must have quite a family history to own such a place” he said after several long seconds to compose himself and avert his eyes, still her lures were having their intended affect, Lucas was second guessing himself, two lonely people, what was the harm in it? “My family has a long history here as well, centuries, but I imagine it is dwarfed by yours.” She explained the living situation and while it was certainly unusual it was far from unheard of.

The hallway lined with rooms, all of these were bedrooms? they seemed almost the size of small apartments, she could always open a hostel if she wanted more business....then they arrived at the very end, one side was evidently the master, the other a guest room she maintained it seemed. Naturally the witch led the way into the master bedroom and he gazed around, the motif of red...like blood, no...like his blood, why was she so specific. Several odd sentences struck him at once and he blinked, feeling a bit light headed.

“What....what exactly are you?” his eyes returned to her to find her now very much in the nude and expectantly waiting for him on the bed. He took a half step backward. “This house, you, this is all so unusual...”

He had broken some unseen trance, the sway she held over men and women alike, not unheard of but certainly not a common occurrence. Lucas took another half step and shook his head, damage control, he didn’t need a strange woman out in the woods attempting to seduce him suddenly turning, who knew what she was capable of.

“I mean I am very flattered, I am but I’m not one to jump into bed so quickly and with someone I barely know, I think I should really just continue on I won’t bug you any longer.”

He reached behind him and felt for the doorknob, placing his glass on a nearby dresser as if somehow trying to remain somewhat courteous.

“You are very beautiful....very alluring but I’m afraid I really, really shouldn’t be staying” his mind felt like a mess he couldn’t come up with a decent way to excuse himself and still entirely unaware of what he had nearly walked into and was still actively trying to escape, knowing only that something was very very off about this place, this woman and this whole scenario.

 

[Sketchyequine]

“What am I?” She furrowed her brows in mock confusion. “I’m just a girl, Lucas. What did you think I was?” She turned to face him, tilting her head to one side as she looked at him curiously. He lit a rage deep within her bosom when he took a step backward rather than forward. He was trying to get away, and that was unacceptable. “There’s nothing unusual about the primal attraction between a man and woman, Lucas. Why on earth would you think otherwise? Plus. You say your family has been in this town for a long time. You should recognize local culture.” Age started to move back towards him then, facing towards him in the full glory of her nudity.

He had broken through her usual hold over potential victims and now he looked like a scared animal looking for the first place to run away and hide. Unfortunately for Lucas, however, Abigail was a skilled hunter with hundreds of years of experience. She hardly even missed a shot, and her weapon was already aimed at him. He was a goner if she wanted him to be, but tonight the witch was in the mood to play with her food before putting it out of its misery. She was capable of far more than he would ever think to give her credit for, and it was all about to rain down on him like a ton of bricks.

“I think you are the type to jump in bed with someone you hardly know, Lucas. You looked up my skirt, allowed your eyes to wander, and even know hormones are pumping hard through your veins. You want me.” She looked down, seeing his hand on the doorknob and it caused her to unleash a snake-like hiss before she started mumbling in Latin as she stared the man down and approached. He could try to run, but the spell she cast him prevented his body from following his minds commands. He would quite literally be frozen still as she got closer and closer to him. No better than a talking statue.

“It really is a shame, Lucas. We could have had fun first, but you've forced my hand by trying to get away. Now…. we’re just going to skip to the pain. You’ll bleed, cry, beg, and ultimately die by my hand and you’ll enter the after life knowing you didn’t even have sex first.” She ran her hand down along his abdomen, feeling him non-discreetly through his shirt. From that moment on… Lucas belonged to Abigail until the day he died. Abigail continued to mutter in Latin: placing hexes over him that prevented escape or fighting back. He was in very real danger now.

Abigail reached up, grappling his throat and squeezing hard as she stood close. She leaned in and kissed him with all the passion of a prostitution or a woman in love as her tongue mingled with his.

 

[RippledStatic]

There was no sense denying it now, she wasn’t human, his mind didn’t have time to process what she might actually be but he still reacted to danger. “I get the feeling you are much more than you appear to be....” he managed, stifling the fear that told him to bold, told him to throw open the door and run for just a moment. He was afraid the moment he moved to much she would attack, Lucas was right. As he went for the knob she had him, musing about how he had eyed her, felt the allure she had perfected over the decades. Just because she was right didn’t mean he would admit it or give in to it.

The young backpacker turned the knob. At least he told his body to, he made the motions...but nothing happened, it was as if he could sent the signals from his brain but his body simply did not respond. The strange words she had muttered....a spell? witchcraft? his mind raced but all of that left him as she closed the distance.

“You...bitch...” It was the only real defiance he could muster before the fear took over his breathing was ragged and uncomfortable, being unable to move his body was fearful enough by itself but she closed a lithe hand around his neck and attempted to crush it, he couldn’t even flex the muscles in his neck to try and fight back. He sputtered and coughed into her kiss, making all the attempts he could to reject her, to break whatever this was that she had done to him and to throttle the beautiful black widow.

But nothing happened, she just kissed him and squeezed the very life from his body, passion fear and pain mingling as his mind went cloudy. Lucas fought to keep his eyes open but it felt like his head might explode, his vision blurring and if he had not been frozen like a statue he knew his legs would have given out. He was dead...this woman was going to kill him just like this....some small part of him wished he actually had gotten laid one last time.

What a shitty last thought....