The Witching Hour

The squishing sound of the few vehicles driving through the wet road was relaxing, the air was chiling but comforting, it was October...

The streets were empty, some voices could be heard from the surrounding buildings and from the distant club. The town was at rest after a long day of work even if some people were still out, doing things that could not be done under the blazing sun to protect themselves, they others or their communities no matter the reason, they had to do it at this particular time. But no one was in this particular street.

No one could see or know what was going on, the electricity, the tension in the air. Anyone with a normal life will just think it's cold, too cold to go outside at this time if they did, they could see the woman with the red coat and ankle boots walking down the street leaving her husband alone in bed, leaving her life and her history, walking to the unknown. Her coat was of a red that no one could miss not even her black umbrella, protecting her long hair from the little droplets still dripping from the sky.

She finally stoped in front of the huge mansion on 663 park Avenue the door opened for her and she closed her umbrella before giving it to the creature at the gate, that man no normal eyes could see before the hour. Only then , another face if the world could be seen even to the common people like you and me.

The air was charged october , october 13 , the young lady walked into the hall where many other ladies were chatting, laughing, different nationalities, different cultures all dressed in rich fabrics, colorful and joyful. The lights were changing, and the images on the walls felt realistic, the man whose throat was splitting blood seemed to be crying drops of tears could be seen and the two ladies in haute couture looking at it seemed to appreciate the canvas before their eyes.

These women seemed normal at first sight but looking very closely, you could see their eyes glowing of different colors, colors that the sun had never seen from east to west. Many brought their familiars floating around them, discussing in the old language. There were cats, eagle's, owls, cats, snakes of all kinds.

It was a blasting party , no one had noticed the woman with the red coat observing at the door without uttering a word nor a movement, not until the striking bells of midnight was heard , she was tall with long blonde hair falling to her waist, she had green eyes as the leaves during spring. During the day she was described as innocent , inoffensive and love but as she walked to the top of the stairs at that moment, they all saw a lion walking up as the king of the queens of the night.

No sound was heard, only respect and fear was felt , no one was standing on her way, who will dare fight she who reigns at witching hour. The chanting began once she stopped and faced the crowd all women, and their necklace representing different animals shinning and levitating. They all came from across the world, for this big event and to see her, to celebrate in her presence like every six years the feast of witches, celebrating life, death, freedom, magic and ancestors.

The Domina Noctis , the queens of the night dressed in the most expensive fabrics, this SOCIETY called a myth but really exists, they are your wives, your sisters, friends even the kind woman at the grocery store. They are everywhere helping women. Empowering them , their magic resides in their souls. Signing blood pacts with invisible, the supernatural travelling over the whole world and beyond, ending wars and starting them.

They can also be vengeful, resentful, heartless and dark. They can be your worse living nightmare torturing you through body and soul, praying to the darkest of the creatures to destroy you and your loved ones. They are faithful friends and cruel enemies.

They all joined their hands and raised them to the goddess in the moon, queen of the dark sky and its stars. The chanting stopped when the king of queens feet rose from the ground facing the sky, communicates with her goddess, she wears a golden gown, magnified by her black angel wings. Her sisters resumed the chanting, thanking the queen and the goddess for a new year far from the years of Salem when they were killed for being gifted. Abandoned because they disobeyed they became selfish and could not control their wickedness, they were revealed.

Many of them were crying remembering those dark days, when they were defeated by simple ungifted and forced to run from their homes, hunted down like preys.

A silvery dust rained on them, like pixie dust, the gift from the dark sky and only when the dark wings of the queen disappeared, once her feet met the ground the feast began.

She danced with her sisters, the music played from invisible instruments, the melodies of the death . A sensual melody accompanied by vicious dances. She turned around memorizing every single detail, every face because this woman will never remember this night, she will never remember she had the honor of hosting a queen, a gifted and gave her the opportunity to walk in the physical world for the biggest feast. At the next witching hour ,on the even number day, she would not remember that night and will go on with her life, forgetting she reigned on the night and the invisible world.

The moon was surrounded by a rainbow so were their eyes, with different colors, each corresponding to their respective gifts.

When the two big doors opened and the moon outside was bloody, the time for the sacrifice had come , the witching hour was almost done

The sisters all shouted in chorus VIVE DOMINICA NOCTIS!!

Those are the same words the red coated lady shouted after waking up with tears and sweat in an empty hall she had never seen before looking around her the only thing she saw were the big black feathers lying on the floor and the blood in her hands.

She stood up an ran out like she loosed her mind forgetting the witching hour forever...