Hell Hall

Chapter Two

In the dead of night, on the cold, Celtic moors, the sisters met, their faces hidden by heavy cloaks that flapped in the wind. Each coven in the area had agreed to what was about to be laid out.

"Sisters," the oldest and wisest witch called out to the large circle. "We have come here, to the standing stones, to work a great magic." Her voice was smooth and velvety, despite the wrinkled and aged skin of the hands she held over her head. "It was here that our ancestors cast their greatest spells, and it is here that we will contact our great family across the globe."

The air between the rocks of Stonehenge shimmered, glittering in the moonlight, and lighting flashed through the clear sky, the thunder clapping violently as space ripped open around them. Through the vortex, other covens could be seen, gathered around the standing stones in their own lands, their hands raised to the heavens.

A low hum rose from the core group, reaching out across the space, the hidden faces all turned skyward. Suddenly, the stars seemed to fall from above, streaking through the black until there was nothing but light, spinning so fast and so bright that it was all the witches could do to keep from falling down in its wake.

"God of the night and Lord of the dead!" the old witch cried, her voice powerful as an avalanche. "Hear us now. We call on thee!"

Every woman, in this spot and any other, echoed her cries as if they were one person, their voices roaring through the din. The flying stars shuddered under their call, quaking as they zoomed overhead.

"Ruler of the day and King of living! Hear thy daughters' plea!"

Lightning flashed once more and all at once, everything was still. Even the air had frozen, listening for what the witch would say.

"Bind the dead to death," she whispered, her voice piercing everything to its center with ice. "And save us from the beasts. Your people now are weeping, their children becoming feasts! Free us from the hated, the vengeful, the undead. Take all Hell has given us and save us in its stead!"

A moan seemed to rise up from the earth itself, everything still frozen in place. Even the witch's coats had frozen, ice glistening over the fabric. The eerie noise spread through the space, the only moving thing, a sound of dread and anger—of hate.

"Let the living live," she continued, her lips barely moving as the words hissed from her. "Save them for the light of day. Only in the shadows will the demons ever play."

Immediately, the moaning stopped, seeming to suck back into itself, the entire earth moving again as the last words echoed. Stars fell from the heavens, leaving the sky as dark as ever as the wind raced through the stones. The rents in the air began to close, shining as they shut off the connections to the other witches around the world. As the sisters lowered their hands, all returned to normal, as if nothing had ever even happened. And yet, everything around them was different.

"They had made it to where spirits couldn't move as they wished," Tommy explained to me, the lights of the city twinkling ahead. "There were rules now. Vampires couldn't go out during the day—no one could. They were locked into darkness and despair. But the witches hadn't thought it all the way through, and it suddenly became very apparent that more needed to be done."

Pursing my lips, I listened intently as he continued the story, civilization growing ever near in front of us.

"Do you not realize what we've done," one of the witches, a young woman with dark hair, hissed. "This is not what you promised it would be, Agatha!"

"Calm yourself." Agatha, the old woman who had led the ceremony a month before held her hand up for silence. She and her coven had gathered in her home to discuss what was happening. The girl was right, though; things had not turned out as expected.