God has heaven.
The Devil has hell.
And in the middle, walking the earth is Witches.
Magical beings, they strive to protect their coven and guard over their sisters, they hide their powers so they may be able to blend quietly within society; but th...
In a house that masquerades as home, resides the lady of the house, her name is Evelyn, she is envied by all that meets her. To the outside world she has it all, a handsome successful husband, two beautiful (angelic and academic) children, a home so immaculate it makes even her closest of friends hearts burst with jealousy, she often volunteers at her children's school, she participates in charity work within the community - she is simply perfect ...... and she intends to keep it that way.
Like old mother hens the women gather together clucking away, each gossiping and mindlessly chattering whilst awaiting their weekly book club to start, Evelyn glances over at the ladies as she brings through their tea and biscuits with utter disdain, they bore her with their mindless drivel and desperate need for attention but she knows this is part and parcel of her life, so she plasters on a smile, then she thanks all of her leaches for attending her weekly book club.
The women robotically thank her as they always do then proceed to comment on how wonderful her home is. Evelyn faking modesty, thanks them (as it is expected) she tries to seem humble and gracious, a quality she doesn't natural attain but after many years has mastered. Her home isn't just wonderful, it's a fucking master piece and she knows it because nothing in her life can be less than perfect.
These women whilst different in ages, races, religions all have one thing in common, they are all married to incredibly wealthy men - now do not be mistaken in thinking these women have not worked hard for what they've got, each one has gone above beyond for their lifestyle - be it either fighting the cruel curse that is ageing with every cosmetic procedure known to man or having to hide their true intelligence so not to make their husbands feel inferior, they are expected to be willing to have sex with their husbands (when ever he requires) even though the very thought of it makes their skin crawl, these ladies will do it and even fake orgasm or two for his benefit, they also have to occasionally turn a blind eye to the odd discretion that may (and does) occur.
These women have all earned their seat at the table, if they needed to suck a bag of dicks to get to the top, they will lick those dicks from shaft to tip with a smile on their face...night and day to get what is owed to them, they are all ruthless but none more so than Evelyn.
These women at all times are to be viewed by prying eyes as the perfect wives, perfect mothers, perfect women; especially by their fellow female friends.
They all begin to delicately sip their tea whilst chattering how glorious it was to read "Pride & Prejudice" again and how they all simply adore the classics, not one of them dare reach for a biscuit, they'd rather be set a light and burnt to death than to consume calories in front of each other. They all discuss their thoughts on the story line and characters (mostly about Mr Darcey). Evelyn smiles and nods as is required by the gracious host, she is gifted in the art of seeming like she gives a shit when she really doesn't.
The conversation has now gone in the direction of what the ladies should read next, while they waffle on Evelyn's attention is drawn to patio doors that opens out to her garden, shes entranced by the sight of a manky feral black cat with no collar that has just emerged from her rose bush.
She watches hypnotically as she realises it's carrying something in its mouth, whatever it is it's quite large, the dirty beast is dragging it across her immaculate lawn, until he reaches the centre of the garden, where he drops his prize then sits in front of it proudly. Curiosity has bubbled up within her to what the cat has ungraciously decided to dump in her garden, she slinks out, the ladies to engrossed in their conversations to notice or care, they have now gone from book choices to playground gossip.
The feral beast doesn't flinch or move as she slowly approaches it, it just defiantly stares back her. In front of the manky little beast, Evelyn sees his prize prey that he's caught and delivered to her, it is a magpie. The average person would be overwhelmed with sadness or revulsion at the sight of this poor lifeless, mangled bird but Evelyn is not your average person, she knows what this means, it's a sign; trouble is coming but from whom.
"Evelyn, Evelyn what are you doing out there" one of the leaches bellow out to her.
"I'll be just a minute, there is a little cat in the garden, I think he's lost" she sweetly chimes back. Carefully she bends down to the level of the cat, keeping her back to the noisey old bitches so they can't see what she's doing. She slyly leans into the cat "now who did this little message come from" his matted fur raises as he hisses furiously at her but she simply hisses back. The cat edges away, Evelyn lunges to grab him by the tail but he jumps back as if prepared for her attack, then quick as a flash he's darted back into the rose bush from where he came.
"Fucker" she snarls under her breath, before slowly raising up and going back to her boring book club.
"Ohh Evelyn was you trying to save that little stray, you really have got a heart of gold" and "that's our Evelyn befriending everyone" the women cooed as she walked in, Evelyn ever the actress pretends to shyly smile as if their comments embarrassed her.
"I'm just going to go wash my hands, I was stroking him and you know I have terrible allergies, I just couldn't resist he was so adorable". The mindless women coo and ahhh at the thought of this cat, as Evelyn wanders off to the bathroom.
Once out of sight she bounds up the stairs to the safety of her en-suite, she locks the door, turns off the light and stands in front of the bathroom mirror in front of the sink.
She stares at her beautiful reflection, shoulder length golden hair, flawless skin and her green eyes - utter perfection but it has come at a cost. She stares at her own reflection, never blinking and silently mouths "Show me who the message was from".
Instantly violent eruption of shaking from her hands to her shoulders travel through out her body as she clings to the sink to steady herself, her finely toned tummy begins to bloat as the skin painfully stretches, her silk blouse raises up, her beautiful body distorts.
She dare not scream or bring attention to herself as she clings desperately to the sink, trying to ride out the agony; her body crumples as cramps wash over, then she purges out a fountain of dark crimson blood from her gasping, gagging mouth into her pristine white sink with such velocity she can barely breath. It lasts but only a few seconds but once it's ended she slides to the ground overwhelmed by exhaustion. Sweat drips from her usually line free brow as she scrambles up to look in the sink, to view what her body has just vomited up.
Blood has filled the sink, it drips of her taps and is smeared up the tiles like a murder scene from Z list horror movie. She gingerly delves both her hand into the warm blood not quite sure what she looking for or what she will find, her hands dance amongst the blood until she she feels a gentle scratch upon her wedding finger, she pulls out the offending object - a tiny little brittle twig.
In that moment she knew who the message was from, a growl erupts from the pit of her stomach - those fucking little whores are back and united. She knew it would only be matter of time before they come for her, she would have to find them, before they find her.
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