A Secret Amongst Witches

*Trigger warning: curse words, physical violence*

The three of us regarded him with disdain as he tried his best to act normal, his countenance indicating culpability. Even my familiar, Wiz, the bright emerald-eyed cat with soft ebony fur, sat in the corner of the room, looking upon the villain with scorn as he sat in the circle of judgment.

“Untie me, witches!” Aiden exclaimed hoarsely, his face red, his forehead beading with sweat.

Winter, Delaney, and I looked at each other solemnly before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“Fucking bitches!” he swore as our jubilance enraged him all the more.

My sisters continued with their glee, but I found myself quickly transforming from elation to fury.

“You killed Lucinda but we’re the bitches?” I uttered coldly. He started protesting as I continued spitefully. “In case you have forgotten why we have you bound to that chair with enchanted ropes; incidentally, we know the tightness of the ropes is not needed, it’s only for your discomfort… and our amusement.”

My sisters cackled louder still as I stood resolute in front of him. The cat yawned.

“I’m telling you!” he cried again, the tears a continuous stream down his tortured face. “I didn’t kill her! I LOVED her!”

My body froze upon hearing these words. With my face a portrait of disgust, I sauntered around his chair until I stood behind him. Leaning down, I caressed my hand down the front of his body as I put my ruby lips to his ear. I felt a thrill as he shuddered beneath my palm when I whispered, “Liar.”

By this point, my sisters were laughing like hyenas. Wiz rose from his spot and ambled to the center where the rest of us gathered, perching right next to Aiden’s right foot. I stood upright then, smoothed the front of my black silk dress and cleared my throat, peering at my sisters. Winter and Delaney obediently ceased their giggles and heeded my stance.

“Ladies,” I announced, feeling a fiendish smile creep across my face, “it’s time.”

At once their eyes darkened and the three of us launched into a collective cadence, circling around our whining victim as we recited our predetermined incantation in unison:

“Aiden, responsible for the White Witch.

Her body bloodied; her white lace dress ripped.

With the full moon, courage and truth preside,

Vengeance is sought; let it be satisfied!

So mote it be!”

Repeating the spell thrice, we then fell to our knees in a crescent in front of the distressed Aiden while my familiar calmly observed the three of us. We were a seductive wave as our bodies swayed side to side, to and fro, at length chanting our ritualistic intones. It took only a few moments before our culprit began to convulse. We proceeded with the chanting as his face turned a lovely shade of crimson and he began to gag. The sisters and I surveyed the brute in our movement as he retched violently, an object emerging from his drooling mouth. The item fell to the ground with a sickening plop, wrapped in saliva, causing Wiz to hop up and back in surprise. The scene prompted us to wind down our invocation until we were still and silent.

Then, as if in slow motion, I watched the shock and anger in my sisters’ eyes as we all recognized the white lace fabric piece, speckled red, that lay on the ground before Aiden. Apparent shock flashed into his eyes before shifting into horror and then realization as our gazes met.

“It was t-“… his final plea silenced by the thrust of my hand, my mute spell proving successful.

“Ladies, please finish this,” I instructed. Aiden began thrashing wildly in protest, as much as he could with the enchanted ropes still binding him, his screams muffled. The sisters bowed their heads in obedience. Their faces betrayed their thoughts, though, the obvious remorse written all over them. I turned on my heel then and walked leisurely toward my chambers with the cat at my feet, hands clasped behind my back, lost in thought. Although my expression was one of indifference, my mind was a chaotic symphony of emotions. Just as I reached my door, I heard footsteps approaching quickly behind me.

“Tilda.” I turned around as Delaney uttered my name in an urgent whisper. “Do you really want to do this?”

“What do you mean?” I responded quizzically.

“Do you… you know… really want to do this?” she questioned, her voice firm but caring. I tilted my head slightly, hands still clasped behind my back, as I looked at her without answering. “You know...” she continued, “Are you sure you want to kill him? After all, it wasn’t that long ago that you were in love with him.”

I stiffened at her words. Wiz meowed loudly, insulted on my behalf. Seeing the look on my face, she swallowed hard, but her determination didn’t waver. Knowing that she meant well, my posture softened, and I sighed.

“Old news,” I replied. “Besides, what else are we to do if a witch is found guilty of murdering one of our own?”

Without any more attempts at persuasion, Delaney nodded resolutely and headed back to the circle of judgment where Winter awaited her return to carry out Aiden’s sentence. I looked down at the cat as he stared up at me expectantly.

We entered my chambers and, after bolt-locking the door, I found myself staring at the cauldron in the middle of the room, its contents slowing, the bubbles diminishing as the spell was now complete. Exhaling forcefully, I walked over to the hearth on the other side, absentmindedly tending to the fire, when I saw something out of the corner of my eye.

There it was. Staring back at me, blaming me, judging me, pissing me off.

“Oh no you don’t!” I declared out loud, causing my familiar to jump at the sudden harsh words.

I was determined not to allow it to have power over me anymore- power that I had once stupidly given to backstabbing deviants, the memories resurfacing in the form of stinging tears.

“It’s okay, Tilda” I whispered aloud, reaffirming to myself that tonight, I had reclaimed that power. Wiz softly meowed in agreement.

And so, using my index finger and thumb, I lifted the delicate fabric and tossed it into the fire, vaguely noticing the stark contrast of my black fingernails against the white and scarlet lace. My eyes danced in tune with the flames, as the wood mixed with the remnants of Lucinda’s dress forged the brightest white blaze before me. The sight comforted me, assuring me that my secret was safe.