Bubble bubble toil and...

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CH. 1 BUBBLE BUBBLE

A trio of witches gathered on the edge of a parking lot at an abandoned warehouse between the airport and downtown. The property had once housed a furniture supply store in the fifties, but was derelict for the past forty years. The time had not been kind.

Teenage vandals broke the windows with chunks of concrete and rock, which let in the elements. Rain, ice, snow and storms had worked their way through the wooden interior so that all that remained was the brick shell, and the occasional uncollapsed wooden floor in the five story building.

The homeless population of Memphis had scurried through the windows seeking any form of shelter from the harsh winds that roared down the Mississippi River. Some died in collapses, others were killed during infighting, and gang initiation rituals. It was a dead place, a dead building haunted by faded memories.

"Can you feel it?" whispered Hilda.

She was taller than average, beautiful in a cold ice queen manner, and stood in front of her two compatriots at a point of a triangle drizzled in blood on the cracked concrete.

"The ghosts are calling," answered the shorter one on the left.

She had long curly red hair that cascaded down to the small of her back and delicate features that made her look like the youngest, and a small silver necklace made of letters that read Cassidy, her name.

"This is going to be fantastic," growled Hilda in a sexy conaltro voice.

The third witch pulled a grimoire, a book of magic, from a messenger bag on her hip.

"This should be enough."

"It will be enough," said Hilda.

She bent down and scratched another symbol onto the ground in front of the triangle. She pulled a small penknife from a pocket on her dress and pricked her finger to infuse the rune with her lifeblood.

A breeze whistled across the lot, stirring up dust and debris.

"Now," she said.

Carla opened the grimoire to a marked page and ran her finger over the text. It was in Latin, written in a faded calligraphy in splotchy brown ink that barely stood out on the parchment.

"We call on thee."

Cassidy mouthed the words with her.

"Again," ordered Hilda.

"We call on thee," they said together.

It flowed into a chant, slow and melodic. Their voices blended in a vibrating harmony that echoed against the pockmarked brick and bounced back toward them.

Wind stirred again, and ghostly apparitions began to gather on the edge of the lot, leaking through the cracked windows in the building, surrounding the trio.

Carla set the grimoire down behind them and pulled a white rabbit out of her pouch.

It squirmed in her hands and she clenched down tighter.

Hilda reached back with one hand and Carla passed the rabbit to her.

She held up the passive bunny and sliced open it's throat with the penknife. She dripped the blood across the rune. Her voice joined the others as she drew a line from the rune to the tip of the triangle.

"We call on thee, we call on thee, we call on thee."

The blood reached the triangle and red light erupted from the rune to burn against the brick wall. Ghostly figures were drawn toward the light and sucked into it.

A black clawed hand reached through the portal and gripped an edge. It pulled the opening a little wider, enough for a second hand to jab through. Now it had two hands on the portal and ripped it open. A sound like fabric tearing accompanied by ghostly moans roared through the air.

A giant head emerged from the portal. A massive red face framed by ram's horns and a hyper muscular body, like a caricature of a comic book hero slid through the opening and rolled into a wary stance.

It flexed massive shoulders and turned it's head to the wind to sniff. It was nine feet tall, shoulders broad and defined, with a hairy pelt that ran down it's spiny back.

"Sullamaie," Hilda smiled.

She dropped the rabbit and unfastened her dress. It fell to the ground and puddled around her feet.

"Sullamaie," she said again.

The creature turned to face her and leered.

Hilda settled back on the concrete, her feet still at the point of the triangle. She opened her knees and invited the demon to take her.

"Sullamaie," Cassidy and Carla said with her.

The demon rumbled toward them. It kneeled in front of Hilda, planted a hand on the ground and jammed into her.

She bit back a scream.

The demon tilted back it's head and roared.

It finished in a moment and rose.

Cassidy dropped her dress and kneeled on all fours into the triangle. The demon sniffed and moved to her next.

Her hair fell across Hilda's face as they stared at each other, eyes locked. Cassidy wasn't as strong and shrieked as the monster took her.

"Sullamaie," Hilda reached up and caressed the young witch's face.

"Sullamaie," said Carla.

The demon growled again and leered at Carla with bloodshot bulbous eyes.

She dropped her dress and fell forward on her hands and knees.

All three witches were in the triangle.

The beast moved to Carla and grabbed her waist with massive hands. She screamed too.

Cassidy and Hilda put their hands on top of hers as they chanted.

It finished again with a roar that split the night air. Carla collapsed beside her fallen coven. The witches stopped their chant.

The beast dug clawed fingertips into the ground gouging claw marks into the concrete as it was slowly drawn back into the portal. It bellowed in defiance.

A shadow darted across the parking lot and scooped up the Grimoire. Cassidy reached for the book thief.

"No," shouted Hilda.

Too late.

Cassidy's foot scuffed through the blood and broke the plane of the triangle.

The portal collapsed with the demon still on this side.

It roared and bounded toward the witches.

Hilda scrambled up.

"Fortress," she screamed and crossed her arms in an X in front of her naked chest.

The demon bounced off an invisible field. It roared again and ran for the edge of the parking lot.

"Damn," Hilda muttered.

She glanced at the thief as he disappeared through a hole in the fence on the opposite side of the parking lot.

"What do we do?" Cassidy asked.

She held her head down and refused to meet Hilda's burning gaze.

"The thief of course," she spat. "He has our property."

Carla held out their dirt encrusted dresses and they donned them.

"We can't summon Sullamaie without the grimoire," she said.

Cassidy nodded.

"He's going to do some damage."

Hilda caressed her stomach.

"Damage was the plan all along," she smiled.

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