The Neighborly Coven

The moon rises at approximately 6:44 p.m. in Murrells Inlet. It is All Hallows Eve, a day renowned for its invitation to tread the steps towards the otherworld. It's a cool, windy and damp evening; Contessa wraps her emerald green cloak tighter around her thin, shivering torso. She hurries along past an especially ominous looking Eastern hemlock, and past the American Holly and the Cabbage Palmetto casting eerie shadows at her feet. On her way through the woods, she passes Longleaf pines, hickory and sweet gum trees, Bottlebrush buckeye and rustling Red maples. Sweet pepper bush skirts the path in mounded clumps. Finally, out of breath, she alights upon a piece of level ground shielded by skeletal looking trees at the heart of the woods. A small fire is burning on the forest floor here, in a small clearing. Somewhere in the dark, a lone fox listens carefully to the peculiar sounds he is picking up on through the shrubs. Every fiber of his being is buzzing, and one eye glows in the moonlight while the other remains veiled in shadow.

Contessa feels like a bandit in the night as she does a three-sixty turn, surveying her surroundings. She hears something. A wild animal? The fire crackling? No. It is the familiar sound of pine needles beneath a soft tread. Aurora is here. She emerges from the shadows and greets Contessa with a quick flourish of the wrist, and a sharp nod. Contessa nods back and makes her way towards to fire to warm her hands, stiff with nerves.

"Hey ya'll!", a tall slim figure with a short blonde bob and a red pout emerges suddenly, startling Contessa and causing a grimace to form on Aurora's face.

Simone seems strangely out of place with her Carolina drawl, giant pearly studs, and calf-length houndstooth dress. She is wearing sleek black gloves that hug her arms up to her elbows, and a small black cat is nestled comfortably in the crook of her right arm.

"Has the party started yet? I brought us some burgers from River City Cafe. Anyone hungry?". She is a bubbly paradox lit up by the eerie glow of the fire, all smiles and lipstick.

"Enough!", Aurora insists. "Supper can wait. We haven't anytime to waste you bumbling fool! Now, let us gather in a circle please."

Simone frowns and sighs, setting the cat down, who is now distracted by a rustling far off in the woods. The three distinct figures gather round the fire, and clasp hands.

"Should I close my eyes?", Contessa asks with trepidation in her voice.

"Only if you have a weak stomach," Simone replies out of the corner of her mouth, causing a look of confusion to form on Contessa's face. "I'm just kidding' darlin," she laughs at her own joke hysterically, and then ceases abruptly under Aurora's fiery gaze.

"No need, " Aurora says, rolling her own eyes. "Now, let us concentrate ladies. Spiritu magno nos monent vos…"

An owl hoots in the distance.

"Vigilia omnium sanctorum venimus vobis…postulantes pro nefas in te deprehensam…"

The wind is starting to pick up, causing the three hypnotized figures to resist, and to clench their teeth together in determination.

"Obliterare famam qui Contessa's fregit cor meum…Neither far, never near, make the culprit disappear!"

There is a great roll of thunder in the night, and rain begins to fall in torrents, as Contessa chants along with her conspirators. She is so cold all over.

"Neither far, never near, make the culprit disappear!"

Over and over they spin the words into a glorious invisible orb that surrounds them, embraces them, and then becomes them. They no longer hear the words they are speaking, but they are caught up in a moonlit dance, drenched in the reverie of a cosmic hum, and caught up in the rhythm of the sounds they are emitting into the dark.

At midnight, the rain ceases, and there is silence. The fire burns just as brightly as it did before it began to rain, a testament to the magic that occurred this evening.

"Now." Aurora rubs her bony hands together and raises her eyebrows, "How about those burgers Simone?".

Simone giggles like a little girl, as she rushes to her giant black purse and pulls out three styrofoam take out containers. The cat is soaked through, and is clawing at her leg for her to pick it up.

"I'm not hungry, " Contessa says in a wan voice. She feels devastatingly cold all over.

The following week on a Monday morning at 11:00 a.m. at a cafe off of US-17, a middle-aged man named Silas Lareaux, is sitting at a table outside, sipping a cup of coffee. He is reading the newspaper. He glances at the headlines and spits out his coffee, staining his starched white shirt. His jowls are trembling as he exclaims, "Well, I'll be! ". He is sobbing as he opens his old-fashioned flip phone and dials his wife's number.

This is what he read in the headlines:

A man who allegedly killed a dozen women in Murrels Inlet, South Carolina this past year, was found dead in his suburban home three days ago. Upon further investigation, authorities found a dozen bodies buried in his basement; Among them, was 23-year old Contessa Lareaux, who went missing 6 months ago. "The most astounding part of it all, " a local is quoted as saying, "is that this guy was a real clean-cut kind of guy, ya know? He was a regular attendee at his church, an insurance salesman, and an upstanding member of the PTA at his son's elementary school. I feel sorry for his wife and child." His wife, Simone, declined to comment on the tragedy when approached by reporters.

Across town, in a quaint green beach house surrounded by magnolia bushes, Aurora and Simone are conversing over coffee.

"I guess the bastard wasn't careful enough when he chose his last victim. Never mess with a member of a witches coven. Contessa was such an essential part of the sisterhood, " Simone exclaims, as she wipes a solitary tear from her eye, fluttering her girlish eyelashes. She sighs and takes a sip of her French-pressed coffee.

"IS my dear. IS, " Aurora replies.

"I know, but I hate havin' to go in those silly ole' woods at night to see her poor ghost trapped there." Simone looks thoughtful. "And all of those other girls, poor souls. I should have turned him into a rat the minute I suspected he was a sadistic maniac."

Aurora cocks her head and sighs. "He certainly paid dearly, didn't he? Concerning the Lareaux family…did you perform the incantation?"

"Yes! They've taken the money and used part of it to buy a house in Europe. They are getting along just fine with Contessa's doppleganger. I think they are too relieved to question anything."

"And Contessa?"

"She is even more relieved for them; Although, she does seem to complain more about the weather these days."

"Yes. An unfortunate side effect of crossing over I suppose."

Outside, a crow perches on the railing of the balcony, peering in at the two witches with two beady eyes. Somewhere in the bushes, a lone fox is poised, transfixed by the buzzing in the ground beneath his paws.