Disclaimer: Suggestion of rape and violence.
Time was ticking, and Miranda had to cross the bay before it was too late.
She’d finally found a means to get to the island. There certainly wasn’t anything unusual about a witch on a paddleboard. Good thing she was focused enough to cast an ignore spell, so no one noticed her.
It was dusk, and the party was underway. Lewis and his friends didn’t realize the guest of honor was running late. The fact that they hadn’t invited her didn’t matter. She had business to finish.
Memories flooded her head. At eighteen, she had not gotten her full powers, and she couldn’t defend herself. She had her full powers now, and they would pay for what they did. She reached the shore as sound sounds of laughter and music carried through the woods. She followed the glow from the campfire to find them and stood in the shadows so they couldn’t see her. As she watched them, her anger roiled.
Lewis sat on a camp chair, holding a beer bottle in one hand as he stirred the fire with a long stick. Hot embers cast an eerie glow, throwing soft shadows across the small clearing where he and his friends had camped. The other three men sat around the fire. Empty beer bottles littered the ground and the smell of weed pushed through the scent of burning wood. Lewis faced away from her. She stepped from behind the trees.
“Hello, Lewis.” She spoke quietly, keeping her wand hidden underneath her cloak.
Lewis jumped and turned to look behind him. He wavered as he tried to stand. No doubt, he consumed many of the beer bottles strewn across the ground.
She stayed where she was, wand hidden underneath her cloak.
“You…?” He stammered and took a step backward.
“I told you’d come back.”
“But you’re dead.”
Miranda withdrew her wand from her cloak. “You’re going to wish you’d finished the job.”
Lewis laughed. “What are you going to do, Zap me?” he taunted.
She flicked her wrist, and Lewis screamed in pain. His three buddies tried to stand, but another flick of her wrist immobilized them.
“I trusted you and told you I was a witch and that I wouldn’t acquire my full powers until I turned twenty-one. You thought you could taunt me, use me as a plaything and toss me in the bay since I couldn’t fight back. Well, I am twenty-one now, and you’re my playthings.”
Miranda flicked her wand slightly, and the fire blazed toward the sky. The heat from the flames made them sweat. But they couldn’t move. She flipped her cloak back, the scars left from the night they beat her.
Lewis tried to take a step toward her, but he was unable to move. “We were drunk. We thought you were lying about being a witch— just a kook. We didn’t mean to hurt you, but we thought you were dead. So, we threw you in the bay.”
“Too late.”
The next day, the sheriff found four bodies at the campsite, all with looks of sheer terror on their faces.
Time was ticking, and Miranda had to cross the bay before it was too late.
She’d finally found a means to get to the island. There certainly wasn’t anything unusual about a witch on a paddleboard. Good thing she was focused enough to cast an ignore spell, so no one noticed her.
It was dusk, and the party was underway. Lewis and his friends didn’t realize the guest of honor was running late. The fact that they hadn’t invited her didn’t matter. She had business to finish.
Memories flooded her head. At eighteen, she had not gotten her full powers, and she couldn’t defend herself. She had her full powers now, and they would pay for what they did. She reached the shore as sound sounds of laughter and music carried through the woods. She followed the glow from the campfire to find them and stood in the shadows so they couldn’t see her. As she watched them, her anger roiled.
Lewis sat on a camp chair, holding a beer bottle in one hand as he stirred the fire with a long stick. Hot embers cast an eerie glow, throwing soft shadows across the small clearing where he and his friends had camped. The other three men sat around the fire. Empty beer bottles littered the ground and the smell of weed pushed through the scent of burning wood. Lewis faced away from her. She stepped from behind the trees.
“Hello, Lewis.” She spoke quietly, keeping her wand hidden underneath her cloak.
Lewis jumped and turned to look behind him. He wavered as he tried to stand. No doubt, he consumed many of the beer bottles strewn across the ground.
She stayed where she was, wand hidden underneath her cloak.
“You…?” He stammered and took a step backward.
“I told you’d come back.”
“But you’re dead.”
Miranda withdrew her wand from her cloak. “You’re going to wish you’d finished the job.”
Lewis laughed. “What are you going to do, Zap me?” he taunted.
She flicked her wrist, and Lewis screamed in pain. His three buddies tried to stand, but another flick of her wrist immobilized them.
“I trusted you and told you I was a witch and that I wouldn’t acquire my full powers until I turned twenty-one. You thought you could taunt me, use me as a plaything and toss me in the bay since I couldn’t fight back. Well, I am twenty-one now, and you’re my playthings.”
Miranda flicked her wand slightly, and the fire blazed toward the sky. The heat from the flames made them sweat. But they couldn’t move. She flipped her cloak back, the scars left from the night they beat her.
Lewis tried to take a step toward her, but he was unable to move. “We were drunk. We thought you were lying about being a witch— just a kook. We didn’t mean to hurt you, but we thought you were dead. So, we threw you in the bay.”
“Too late.”
The next day, the sheriff found four bodies at the campsite, all with looks of sheer terror on their faces.
