Tiffany Hawkins: Bitchcraft

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Once the shock subsided, Tiffany surveyed the scene. She looked around, firstly, just to make sure nobody was watching – though with the total darkness, it was extremely hard to notice if anybody was – and then walked back to the body. The blood on her heels curdled her stomach, so she wiped them on the clothes on Frederick's corpse.

"Bastard," she said as she dug her shoes in hard, then rummaged them around to get most of the blood off. Not wanting to touch the body, she tried her best to get it all off, but the blood, much like Frederick, was stubborn and wouldn't leave her alone.

The frustration further annoyed Tiffany, and in her thoughts swam a million different scenarios. She knew she probably wouldn't have ended up killing him had he not attacked her, for her capabilities of murder were very limited. At best, she would have taken enough satisfaction shooting him in the crotch, just to make sure he could have never used his disfigured genitalia ever again.

But now he lay cold and dead on the hard library floor. There was no guilt residing in Tiffany's breast for she knew he deserved to rot in Hell. Relief was her greatest ally, and it wiped her conscience clean of any wrongdoing. She did ponder whether she should notify the police, but with the absence of security cameras through lack of electricity, and the fact that the competency of the Lakefield View police force was minimal at best, she decided against turning herself in.

No more would Frederick rule her life. This was now her clean slate, free from the ever-watching eyes of the sadistic psychopath bleeding at her feet.

More blood had poured around her. Tiffany's face turned sour and she stepped away, looking for the nearest bathroom. She carefully walked to the entrance of the library where the public bathrooms would be and found the nearest ladies' toilet.

She entered, and very dim security lights helped light up the rectangular room. Eerily quiet, with only a gentle buzz from some kind of contraption in the wall, Tiffany used the sink area to lean on while she pulled off her heels.

The water still ran, though it ran icily cold. It almost felt as though the pure water had burned her frail fingers, and instead she threw the shoes into the sink and let the water pour over them. A tissue dispenser was nearby and she pulled about a full roll out, then proceeded to clean her shoes.

She looked up into the mirror, to catch a glimpse of herself. Before she had time to register the dark circles under her eyes, she saw a face in one of the open cubicles behind her.

Despite the surprise, Tiffany did not scream nor show immense fear. Her heart jumped, and she spun around to face whoever it was. She recognised her as one of the sister witches.

Susannah stood smiling, a proud, dignified smile. She lifted her arms and the lights flickered on in the bathroom. Tiffany looked around, somewhat intimidated by the witchcraft summoned by the woman before her. The sudden light in the bathroom made her squint; it overwhelmed her vision.

"If you're looking for Justin," Tiffany began, hoping that being the first to speak would give her control in the conversation, "you won't find him with me. I know you and your witch-bitches took him, but he's safe now, so whatever you were planning has failed miserably."

"I'm not looking for Justin," Susannah said rather cryptically. She walked out from the stall and stood a mere few feet away from Tiffany. "I'm looking for you."

"Please don't try and get it on with me, I've just got rid of one unwanted stalker, I'm seriously not ready to dispose of another."

The witch smirked. "And it's exactly that reason I approach you, for I am attracted to you Tiffany," she pointed to Tiffany's chest, "for the darkness in your heart spreads, and it is most wonderful to watch."

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