Rapture of Witches

Chapter One: 'Oops, I Died Again!'

Welcome to the Land of the Damned, Louisiana.... Louisiana? Not just a middle I was in Egypt dying, staring into Lucas eyes and accepting death as my friend, now I'm back in North America, in the side of an abandoned road? It doesn't make sense, then again my life never makes sense. The road leads towards the bayou from Mississippi, I remembered it from when Lucas and I drove to Don's manor, I wonder if he's still there; highly unlikely.

The rusted cars along the road and tall patches of gras sprouting off from the pavement showed one thing, I wasn't in my regular time zone. The field on the other side of the forest was taller than my knees, they shift with the wind and held a few deer that didn't mind my presence as I walk down past the sign and towards the thin lining of smoke in the air. It was far, the sun was starting to touch the horizon and I have no clue on what's lurking in the dark; seeking civilization is the best chance I have in figuring this all out.

I stopped, my feet- just covered in thick socks, aches severely as if I've been running for miles. Loud clatter filled the air as a truck across from me started to shake, empty cans rolled on the pavement as a husky voice mixed in with the clatter. "I know you're in there, son of a bitch." The voice belonged to a man, one older with a thick southern accent and dry throat.

I took a few steps forward to peak through the tinted windows of the back, seeing a frail form that moved incredibly fast. "H-hello?" My voice was timid and squeaky, it sound and felt different, my tongue and lips dry, and body shivered from the sudden chill going down my spine.

The truck stops bouncing, I can feel the frail man's eyes peaking at me through the tinted window, it caused me to take cautious steps back and away from the potential threat. The old man climbs out slowly, immediately raving his two barrel shotgun once his foot touched the ground, one eye covered in a worn out patch as the other held a fresh scar- perhaps a month old, still healing and forming into a scab. "Who else with you?" He blurts our, stepping close with the gun resting in shooting position upon his shoulder.

I raised my hand, showing I was unarmed and harmless. "I'm by myself, sir. Please, I don't know what's going on, I'm tired, cold, hungry, and need an explanation."

He spat thick brown liquid on the ground, tobacco was stuck in between his cheek and gums. "Were you living under a rock or something? Or maybe you one of them demons or shapeshifters, trying to pull a fast one of me."

"What?! No, I'm not-"

"Quiet girl, I faced many monsters for the past five years, survived on nothing but my wits and gut, and my gut is telling me you ain't normal. Where you come from?"

"I-I dont know." I whimpered, tears immediately stream down my face. I sobbed, pressing my hands to my face as I tried to stifle my voice.

"Hush up now, you gonna attract others." He spoke sternly but the soft tone in his voice revealed the common awkwardness. "Stop that crying."

I did as he told, wiping my tears away and placing my hands back into the air. "I'm not a demon or shapeshifter, not anything else for that matter. I'm lost, I have no memory of what happened to me or this land, can you please help me? Just for tonight."

The old man didn't let up on pointing his gun on me but he did remove his finger from the trigger, which ease my nerves a little. "I would have to pay you down, in case of weapons." He stepped close with caution, his dirty covered fingers reached out to first pat my my pockets, then down my thighs, coming upon my ankles before he went straight for my breast- but stopped before he could gripe them. "No offense, but women tend to hide razor in those things."

I huffed and nod in understanding while closing my eyes. The old man tried his best not to grope me too much, only keeping his hands on my side and under my breast. Finally he was done before he could grow a woody, clearing his throat and cheeks turning red in embarrassment, he lowered his gun- pointing to to the ground. "Come on now, I have a camp heading east." Grabbing his large camp bag and whatever canned food he could find, the old man walks towards the woods; I had no other choice but to follow.