30 Days of Indie Horror continues! Check out the excerpt, and then at the bottom enter the drawing to win one of three Bards and Sages Prize packages featuring three ebooks. Check out John Grover’s The Fetch.
About the book
WAR OF WITCHES
From the author of Creatures and Crypts and Frozen Stiff comes an all new horror.
They are followers of a different path, a way of magic and mystery, of old customs and ancient knowledge. In their world appearances can mean so much but those appearances are not always what they seem.
Isabelle Thicket, a sorceress of the black arts is about to collide with Jacob Norsen, a sorcerer of white magic, and all Hell will break loose. Isabelle will stop at nothing to get what she wants and Jacob will do anything to protect those he loves. Two of the most powerful forces of nature will clash in a battle to the death and their power will unleash a greater evil…an old, hungering evil that will threaten the world.
There’s no safe place to hide from… The Fetch.
“Alex, come here; I want to show you something,” Isabelle said on her way to the huge mirror on the wall.
In front of the mirror, the two stood with their reflections glaring back at them. “This is my portal in the world,” Isabelle began. “I can see anything I desire, even the future. Right now, I’m feeling a little playful. You’ll die when you see this.”
They stood for a moment in front of the mirror, until Isabelle raised her arms. The room dimmed. “Vassago, Vassago, lend me your sight!” The mirror began to go black; the reflections disappeared, and the glass became murky. “Serve me with all your powers and might!” The mirror was now totally black, but slowly, colors began to swirl within it.
Alexandria’s eyes grew wide; she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. At last, pictures began to come into focus, and the two women stared, as if looking through a window, at a couple just finishing making love.
In the bed, the couple lay kissing, caressing, and enjoying the feeling and pleasure of each other’s bodies. An awkward feeling overcame Alexandria—she felt like a voyeur, peering into places she knew she should not. The thrill of it kept her watching, though. The excitement—something that Isabelle felt very often—could not be denied.
Having finished, the woman slid out of the longing arms of her man, and slipped on his long t-shirt. “I’m going to get a snack. Do you want anything?” Michelle asked.
“No, thanks, hon. Just hurry back, okay?” David replied.
“Okay,” she smiled. After blowing him a kiss, she left the room. The mirror followed her out of the bedroom, down the hall, and into the kitchen. It was nearly pitch dark; only a nightlight gave pitiful illumination to the room. Michelle opened the fridge, and its light was most welcomed.
“Who are they?” Alexandria whispered.
“They can’t hear you, Alex,” Isabelle chuckled. “That’s David Villark in the bedroom, and this wretch is Michelle Strass. I despise this woman with every fiber of my being.”
“Because she’s got what I want: David.” A look of spite twisted onto Isabelle’s face; there was coldness in her eyes. “Watch this.”
Isabelle held the palm of her hand out, right in front of the mirror. Tiny particles appeared, and whipped into a small shape. A spider now stood in the center of her hand; its tiny legs were feeling about the flesh of her palm. Sucking in a great breath, Isabelle blew the spider right into the mirror, and it vanished. A smile came to her face, as the two watched.
Michelle bent to her knees, and began searching around the fridge for something small to tame her hunger. An itch began to bother her, and she reached up to scratch her head. She paid it no mind, and continued to shuffle about the fridge. Again, the itch came to her, on the back of her head; reaching, she scratched again, and seemed to cease it.
Her eyes came across a plastic bowl with a lid on it, but the itch came to her head again, as well as her back. “Ouch.” She set the bowl down, and scratched her head and back. Then, the bowl moved.
“What the hell!” Michelle cried.
The bowl moved slightly, as if something were alive inside it. With one hand scratching her back, she used the other to open the plastic bowl. Slowly, she pried the lid off, and inside were dozens of small, hairy spiders, suddenly squirming out of the bowl, and running like mad all around the kitchen floor.
Michelle screamed with fright; the sound filled the house. She stood up as she felt something on her back. After pulling her hand away, she found three spiders clinging to it; their tiny legs were tickling her flesh, and rippling it with goose bumps. As she continued to scream and writhe, the fridge light made it clear that her whole body was covered with spiders.
Her back was covered; the small creatures crawled over one another, up her neck, and into her hair. They scurried down her arms, as she began to scratch at them, and hit herself with fury. Along the floor, they skidded—hundreds of them over her bare feet. She jumped with terror, squashing some, and staining the floor.
Screaming and shrieking, Michelle fell against the countertop, and stumbled to the floor. At last, her eyes closed, and she wailed in total panic.
“Michelle! Michelle!” David cried, as he shook her as hard as he could. “What’s wrong baby? What’s wrong? I thought someone was attacking you. Are you alright?”
She opened her eyes and so no a sign of the spiders. Her body was perfectly clear of them, and a bowl of fruit cocktail lay spilled upon the floor; the fridge door was wide open.
“Where are they? Where are they?” She called, still shivering. “Didn’t you see them?”
“See what?” David asked gently, as he stroked her hair, and held her tightly.
“The spiders, the spiders… there were hundreds of them.” She paused, and looked around. Her voice was softer now, and her heart rate slowed down. “My God, I’m going crazy!” She screamed, tears filling her eyes.
“No, you’re not. Michelle, calm down. It’s just stress, and you’re overtired. Your eyes are just pulling tricks on you.”
“No, David, they were real. I felt them all over me, crawling, and biting, and swarming. There were hundreds of them.”
“Alright Michelle, I’m here, now. I’m here.” He took her in his arms, comforting her, and protecting her. “I know you have a big fear of spiders, I know. But look: they’re gone, and I’m here, and everything is fine. Let’s just get your fruit, and go back to bed, alright?’
“Alright,” she said.
The two walked slowly down the hall, and back into the bedroom. The door closed.
The images faded, and finally the mirror was itself again; in it stood Alexandria and Isabelle. Isabelle laughed hysterically, nearly falling to the floor; a faint smile appeared on Alexandria’s face, and she chuckled a bit.
“That was very interesting, Isabelle.”
“Interesting? It was a riot. Oh, I haven’t even begun to torment that pathetic woman. You wait—I’ll have her out of the way in no time, and that David all to myself.”
“What do you want with him? You have so many men, now.”
“It’s a challenge. I find pleasure in winning him over. Then, I’ll throw him aside.”
“You’re so cold, Isabelle.”
“You have to be, Alex. Any feeling or empathy in this work, and you’re as good as dead. There are always others out there, looking for your vulnerable points, so they can destroy you. I don’t intend to let that happen. Just listen to me, girl, and you’ll be the second strongest sorceress in the world.” She chuckled as she patted Alexandria on the shoulder.
“Well, it’s late, Isabelle. I really should be going. Thank you for tonight; it’s been really empowering.”