M Sellars - Never Burn A Witch

“And why should we be any more trusting of you?” she demanded. “As far as I’m concerned, that article was nothing more than propaganda.”

I knew that even as we spoke, I was being checked out. Poked, prodded and inspected on an ethereal level by the two women. I had felt it ever since walking into the house and even more so since this terse conversation began. I decided that if we were ever going to get anywhere, I would have to go ahead and show my hand. I was going to have to let them feel for themselves that they could trust me.

“You’re both Witches,” I expressed evenly. “And judging from what I’ve been picking up, fairly practiced ones at that. Why don’t you tell me?”

I relaxed my inner self and drew a deep, cleansing breath. As I softly exhaled I allowed all but my most basic defenses to lower. Taking away any walls and putting out a psychic welcome mat. In effect, I invited them to come in and spiritually shake my hand. Just get to know me. Just get comfortable.

Even considering the energies I’d been feeling thus far, I didn’t expect anything in the way of a major psychic event. That level of talent comes with years of practice and is not necessarily achieved by everyone just because they practice Wicca. Such abilities are not a given. They are not an automatic bonus that comes with the religion. They are acquired. Even so, any Witch with the most rudimentary knowledge of The Craft should be perfectly capable of “feeling someone out” and that was my hope with this exercise.

What became instantly apparent the moment my defenses dropped, however, was that these two Witches were by no means mere beginners. Unfortunately, for all three of us, I was soon to find out just exactly how talented they were.

Karyl’s energies reached me first. They were warm, cautious and soft, moving carefully around the periphery of my aura. Starr’s touch followed and was the direct opposite. Plunging sharply inward and demanding complete attention-as hard and abrasive as the outer personality she had demonstrated thus far. I winced and fired off a quick mental warning to her, basically letting her know “Witch to Witch” that she was a guest and that I wouldn’t tolerate being challenged by her on this level. The small volley hit its mark, and she toned down her insistent energies noticeably, though they remained raw and somewhat grating.

Not surprisingly, it was Karyl’s tender and subtle delving that located the locked and barred door in the dark corner of my mind where I cloistered away all the horrors I had witnessed throughout my life. No doubt, she had done this while my attentions had been on Starr’s assertive ethereal contact. They made a good team, and unfortunately, I hadn’t foreseen that they would do this. What was worse, I didn’t notice until it was too late to stop it. Before I could throw up a barrier, or even warn her, she unbolted and threw open the imaginary door that held back my nightmare world. Then with the unsuspecting innocence of a child, stared directly into the maelstrom of vivid atrocities I so desperately sought to forget.

My body tenses as I feel my shoulders slowly and simultaneously ripping from their sockets. Something is pulling down against my ankles, and my legs are straining to remain joined with the rest of my body.

I don’t know where I am…

I don’t know how I got here…

What is happening to me?

The metallic click of a gear ratcheting reverberates again.

Tick, tick. Click!

“ADMIT your heresies woman!” a dark voice demands.

Tick, tick. Click!

Tick! Clunk!

Muscle and tendons are tearing. Along my upper back, they spasm and snap like overstressed rubber bands sending white hot projectiles of torment through my body.

I try to cry out in pain.

The memories screamed forth like air escaping from a balloon, ricocheting from the corners of my mind and raking steely, barbed hooks through my very soul. As painful as they were for me, I couldn’t imagine what the two young women must be feeling as they bore naked witness to my personal demons.

Fear.

Pure unadulterated terror.

“Please come in,” a voice.

I turned to face the direction of the voice.

It is my friend. Why am I so frightened?

Ariel Tanner is standing before me, radiant and lovely in a white lace gown. She smiles at me.

“Rowan, how nice to see you.” Her voice floats mellifluously, displacing a demonic rushing noise in my ears. “It’s been so long.”

I cannot believe it is she. She is dead. This cannot be her.

“Ariel?” I question.

She jerks and spasms. The smile flees her lips. Her eyes grow wide and she looks down. A small spot of crimson appears on the high neck of the lace gown and begins growing.

Spreading.

Her mouth falls open in shock, and bright blood trickles from the corner of her lips. She looks back at me with questioning eyes, and the vermilion stain waxes unceasingly, covering her chest.

Running.

Dripping.

“Why Rowan?” she mouths. “Why?”

“Why don’t you stop him, Rowan?” her gurgling voice echoes, “Why?”

Darkness.

I could feel that the unstoppable flood of hideous visions had completely overpowered both Karyl and Starr. Enthralled by sadistic nightmares that no one should be made to witness, let alone live. I braced myself against yet another wave of remembered agony as I struggled to slam the ethereal door.

“Kendra Darlene Miller…”

“…As you are damned in body and soul, your sentence on this day is death. The sentence is to be executed immediately, without appeal, in the manner of expurgation by fire.”

“Expurgation by fire…”

“Kendra Darlene Miller…”

“Expurgation by fire…”

“No. No, this can’t be.”

“May The Lord Jesus Christ have mercy upon your soul.”

I cannot move.

I can hear the scraping of a match against stone.

I cannot scream.

I can hear the explosive spark as the match ignites.

“Somebody please help me!”

“Kendra Darlene Miller…”

“Damned in body and soul…”

“Your sentence on this day is death…”

“Expurgation by fire…”

Hot yellow agony licks across my body.

Fire clings to me in a vicious shroud. I’m holding my breath as the flame washes over my face, furiously catching my hair and blossoming upward with yet another loud crash.

I cannot scream…

With one final push, I levered the mental door shut and forcibly ejected Karyl and Starr from my mind. From beginning to end the entire incident took place in less than a minute. Our outward expressions, however, were enough to tell Ben and Carl that something was definitely going on.

“Hey! Knock, knock…” Carl’s voice poured into my ear in a viscous flow. “Earth to Rowan.”

“Yo, white man? Are you three okay?” Ben’s voice followed, whirlpooling in behind Deckert’s as I snapped soundly back to the physical realm.

I nodded as I turned my concerned attentions to Karyl and Starr. “What? Yeah. Fine. Yeah, I’m okay.”

The two women were staring back at me blankly. Momentarily, a small glimmer of emotion crept into Karyl’s expression and was almost instantly followed by a pair of large tears rolling down her cheeks. A split second later her face was joined with the palms of her hands, and her shoulders began to heave as she quietly sobbed.

“I’m sorry,” I delicately offered, “but at the risk of sounding heartless, you brought it on yourselves.”

“Brought what on their selves?” Carl interjected in a puzzled tone as he switched his gaze back and forth between the two women and me. “What’re you talking about?”

“I apologize,” Starr announced, eyes watering as she choked back her own desire to cry. “You are, of course, correct, and that was…” She swallowed hard and steeled herself against the sorrow and fear that threatened to overtake her. “…It was very rude of us.”