by Doug Langille
Samantha wakes up to the scent of maple bacon, feels excitement about her birthday, and enjoys the morning light. While she’s getting ready, her dad seems anxious and doesn’t want to talk about her brother Dorian’s return. Sam finds out that her family is actually magical witches, and this revelation shocks and uneases her. Before leaving for school, Sam gets angry at her dad for ruining her birthday mood and storms out. Additionally, Phil admits that Dorian’s “enlistment” isn’t what they thought and he seems concerned about what might happen later.
Samantha Weist woke to the softness of her cotton sheets against her skin and the distant chirping of birds outside her window. The rich, smoky sweet aroma of maple bacon wafted up from the kitchen, tickling her nostrils and making her stomach rumble in anticipation. She stretched her arms wide, grinning like an idiot. She loved it when her dad made breakfast. She sat up quickly, opened her eyes, and promptly tripped over a pile of clothes, tumbling out of bed. No witnesses, I hope. She strode to her window and threw open the curtains, letting the soft morning light spill into her room, casting long shadows and bathing everything in a warm, golden glow. The sunlight warmed her skin, making her feel alive. Happy birthday to me. Sam slipped on her robe and headed to the shower.
Butterflies danced in Sam’s stomach, making her tap her foot impatiently against the floor. Today was not just any day - it was her eighteenth birthday, and her brother Dorian was coming home.
She hummed and danced across the room with a flutter of excitement in her stomach. It’d been ten months since he moved out. His sudden departure left a void in her life.
Wrapping her dark hair in a towel, Sam rummaged through her closet for her school outfit. She settled on her favorite pair of worn-out jeans and a tank top, clothes that made her feel both comfortable and herself.
Sam went downstairs for breakfast and smiled as the kitchen was filled with the comforting aroma of bacon and coffee. The sizzle of the bacon, the soft hum of the refrigerator, and the occasional clink of her dad’s coffee mug against the table created a familiar and soothing symphony.
Sam plucked the spatula from the counter to flip the bacon. “You always burn it, Dad,” she teased, expertly turning over each piece sizzling with an unnatural blue flame.
Her dad, Phil, shrugged and sat at the kitchen table and fidgeted, his fingers drumming nervously on his phone. Tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap. Tap. Tap. She caught his gaze as he looked up, his eyes betraying a hint of anxiety. “Is that Morse code or something, Dad? The bacon will be fine.”
He huffed and tossed the phone on the table.
Sam walked over and put the plate of bacon on the table, plucked the phone from his hands, and began navigating the screen. “You and technology,” she teased, shaking her head.
Phil smiled and took a swig of his coffee. “Happy birthday, Samantha.”
“Thanks.” Sam gave him back his phone, sat and plopped a piece of bacon in her mouth. Mmmm… salty and crispy…
The morning was quiet and bright. The two ate in silence, enjoying the moment.
As Sam sipped her coffee, her dad began to clear the dishes. “Any plans for after school?” he asked, stacking plates.
Sam downed the last of her coffee and went over to the hall mirror, an old antique piece that had been in the family for years. The hallway, lined with family photos and bathed in the soft morning light, always gave her a sense of belonging, even if it was just the two of them now. She removed the towel and picked up her hairbrush, a faint tingle grazed her palm. It’ll dry on the way, I guess.
Phil watched his daughter with amusement as she fussed.
She winced as the brush pulled through her damp hair, the bristles making a soft, scratching sound against her scalp. “So, I should probably clean up Dorian’s old room, right?” Sam asked, trying to sound casual.
He nodded as he cleared the table. “Dorian will be home this afternoon and he said he was going to pick you up.”
“So, you’re talking now.” Sam knew this to be a sore point, but it bugged her.
“Not really. Just the facts.” Phil stopped and waited for the incoming jibe.
Sam delivered. “You know, one of you has to be the grown up. Please don’t let it be Dor.”
“Funny.” Phil chuckled in spite of himself.
Samantha’s jaw clenched, and she tossed the brush on the small table. The flower vase across the room rattled. She hated when her dad was evasive, and today of all days, she didn’t have the patience for it. She gripped the edge of the table, knuckles turning white, and looked at her dad through the mirror. “I’m not trying to be. I mean, Dorian left us, Dad. He chose to leave on his birthday, of all days,” Sam’s voice rose, her words sharp, “right after cake.”
“I couldn’t stop him,” he said and picked up his phone then immediately put it down again. “We’re going to talk about that tonight, I promise. Right after cake.”
Samantha felt her irritation rising, clenching and relaxing her fists. Sam turned around and leaned back against the table, her hands animated. “Why all the cloak and dagger, Dad? Can’t you just tell me.” Her voice echoed in the now silent kitchen, the tension palpable.
Phil lowered his head, exasperated. “It’s just that…” Tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap. Tap. Tap. On the table now. He’s doing it again.
Sam knew what he was going to say and cut him off. “Tell me. I’m not going to run away.” I promise.
“Not now,” he said.
“Fine. Whatever. Look, I gotta go.” Sam grabbed her book bag and headed for the door.
“Wait.”
Sam turned around and folded her arms. “What?”
Phil took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper when he finally spoke. “Dorian didn’t really enlist, not in any army you know.”
It was impossible for Sam to avoid rolling her eyes. “Still too ‘cloak-n-dagger-y’.”
Phil nodded and continued. “He’s been in training since Initiation Day. I didn’t want him to go, but-”
Well, this is new. Sam’s prodded. “What’s Initiation Day?”
Her dad told jokes dryer than anyone. No one could tell when he was serious or not except Sam. “It’s when people like us, our family and others, assume our true nature. Are you ready to hear ours?”
She didn’t even try to hide the eye-roll that time. “Our true what?”
“We’re not the same as other humans, Sam. We’re special. We have magic. We’re witches.” He was dead serious.
Samantha felt as if the floor had dropped out from under her and reached instinctively for the wall. She stared at her dad, her mind struggling to process his words. I’m late for school. She stared at her dad, her heart pounding in her chest. “Stop pulling my leg, Dad. This isn’t funny,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. Sam laughed, a short, disbelieving sound. “Witches? Really, Dad? What’s next, vampires and werewolves? Unicorns paying their taxes?”
Phil stuffed his hands in his pockets and sighed. “No one is laughing, Sweetheart. You have to be careful, especially today. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“Quit it, Dad. It’s my day and I want to enjoy it. You’re not going to suck the fun away.”
“You asked,” he said plainly and shrugged his shoulders.
Sam swung her bag on her shoulder and hitched it up, her good mood long since evaporated. “Look, I gotta split.” Sam grabbed her book bag and headed for the door, passing the small shoe rack and coat hangers.
Samantha swung her bag onto her shoulder, her good mood completely shattered. She stormed out of the house, the slam of the door echoing behind her. As she stepped outside, the cool morning air hit her face, carrying with it the distant sounds of cars and the soft rustling of leaves in the wind.
“Well, that went well,” muttered Phil to the now empty house.
In the schoolyard, Sam discovers Erin leaning against a graffiti-covered wall. As they chat, Sam reveals her father’s suspicious behavior and his comparison of her and Dorian to witches. Suddenly, Sam experiences a powerful, disorienting vision through an apple, causing her to blank out. After regaining consciousness, Sam confides in Erin about her experience and the possibility that she might actually have witch-like abilities. Sam then demonstrates these abilities to Erin by making the apple in front of them come to life and narrate its journey from seed to harvest. Overwhelmed and scared, the girls decide they’ll face this new reality together and leave the cafeteria to make the most of Sam’s birthday.
Event: Sam and Erin meet in the schoolyard. Sam talks about her dad’s strange behavior. Sam experiences a vision through an apple, causing her to blank out. Sam shares her vision with Erin and suspects she might be a witch. Sam demonstrates her abilities to Erin, making the apple come to life. The girls decide to face their new reality together and leave the cafeteria. Conclusion: Sam’s birthday will be spent dealing with her newfound abilities and sharing these experiences with Erin for support. (51 words)
Sam spotted Erin leaning against the graffiti-covered wall of the high school, the cool, rough texture of the chipped bricks pressing into her back. Her vibrant hair, a stark contrast against the faded murals, caught the morning sun, setting her ablaze in a halo of fiery hues.
Erin pushed off the wall, a grin spreading across her face. “Hey, Sam” she called out, her voice echoing slightly in the quiet morning air.
“Hey. You won’t believe what my dad said this morning,’ Sam blurted out.
Erin plucked a daisy from the nearby patch and twirled it before presenting it to Sam with a flourish. The daisy felt soft and delicate in Sam’s hand, the petals like satin and the stem slightly prickly. “Harpy Birfday. What’d your dad say?”
A soft smile spread across Sam’s face as she took the daisy, her fingers brushing against Erin’s. “Thanks,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, as she tucked the flower behind her ear.
The morning sun cast long shadows on the sidewalk, and the air was filled with the scent of freshly cut grass from the school’s front lawn. Sam bit her lip, her gaze fixed on the daisy in her hand.
“What’s wrong?” asked Erin.
“Nothing, really. Dad was just being weird this morning. Weirder than normal. He was… staring at me. Like he was scared of me.” He said I’m a witch.
“Oh?” asked Erin. “That’s def weird.”
Sam waved her hand and swatted the thought train away. “Don’t worry about it. Did I tell you that Dor is coming home today?”
“Only every day for the last month,” Erin said, rolling her eyes. “I can’t wait to feast my eyes on his manly manliness again.”
“Down, girl. He’s but mere mortal.”
“Sure he is.”
As the morning sun climbed higher in the sky, Sam endured the friendly jabs and birthday wishes from her friends. Sam laughed off the flirtatious comments from her classmates, relishing the freedom of her single status.
Lunchtime in the cafeteria was always a zoo— a cacophony of clattering trays, chattering students, and the overpowering mix of different food smells. The heat of the crowded room was palpable.
It was a whirlwind of noise and movement, a storm that Sam and Erin had to navigate through, weaving between tables and dodging classmates. But their usual spot by the window was like the eye of the storm, a cool and calm oasis amidst the chaos. They chitchatted while they ate their lunch.
“Did you see Mark yet? Stacey says he has the hots for you.” Erin always tried to hook her friend up with her latest interest.
“No. I thought he had his eye on you to be honest,” said Sam. She glanced outside the window, the sky was a brilliant blue, but to Sam, it seemed dull and lifeless. She thought about Mark, about the way he looked at Erin. She wasn’t ready for another relationship, not yet.
Erin was bubbly and playful, but not annoyingly so. “Well, I’ve been saving my self for Dorian, but you think so?”
“Uh-huh. You should go tell…”
Sam stopped talking. Sam’s hand flew to her temple as a sharp pain erupted. It was like a lightning bolt, searing through her brain, leaving her breathless. She squeezed her eyes shut, her face scrunching up as she rode out the dizzying onslaught.
“What’s wrong, Sam?” asked Erin.
“I… I don’t know, she said then opened her eyes. The pain stopped as suddenly as it began.
Sam cautiously looked at Erin then around the cafeteria. All the colors of the room took on a brilliance, the full spectrum of blues and reds glowed in vivid richness. Sam stared at the emerald green of Erin’s apple and picked it up, her hand trembling. She could feel the life force within it, the energy that pulsed just beneath its skin. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before.
Sam was suddenly overwhelmed with its entire life story. She lived a thousand lifetimes in a single moment, each one more vivid and intense than the last.
She felt the cool drops of rain on her skin, the warmth of the sun on her face, the jarring sensation of being plucked from the tree. Her soul ached. Sam lived the trauma of harvest and Apple’s death. She saw Apple’s journey from a tiny seed to the fruit in Erin’s hand. She mourned for Apple. Her eyes welled with tears and she thought her heart would truly break. Then it was gone. The harvest, the rain, blues, greens, and reds. Gone. Apple was just an apple.
“Are you okay?” Erin touched Sam on the arm and she nearly jumped out of her skin, almost dropping the apple as she placed it on the table.
Sam blinked back tears, her heart pounding in her chest. The cafeteria was spinning around her, the colors too bright, the noises too loud. It was like the world had shifted, leaving her lost and disoriented. Sam looked at Erin, eyes glassy and pink, saddened by the loss of her secret world of color.
“Yeah. I think so,” was all Sam could manage, voice shaky. The taste of the apple lingered in her mouth, the phantom sensation of rain on her skin. Apple was just an apple.
“You blanked out for a sec.” Erin studied her friend’s face. “You sure you’re okay?”
Sam let out a big sigh. “No. I’m not.”
“Your dad this morning?” prompted Erin. “What’d he say to you?”
“He said I was a witch and that Dorian was one too.” As Sam recounted her father’s words, a pencil on the table began to quiver, dancing an erratic jig that only stopped when she did.
Erin looked around to see if anyone was listening… watching. The table was theirs. “A witch? What could he possible mean by that?”
“I thought he was just being an ass. You know how he is with his weird sense of humor.” Sam drew her fingers along her lips and fought hard to bite her nails.
Erin sat back and placed her hands firmly on the table. “So? You called him on it and left. Don’t let it bug you.”
“He wasn’t joking.”
“Come on, girl!” Erin laughed.
Sam’s words came out as a whisper, barely audible over the din of the cafeteria. “I think he’s right.” Her words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their implications. “I think… I think I might be a witch.”
“That you’re a witch? Now you’re yanking my chain.” Erin squirmed in her seat. Erin pulled her hands away, her eyes wide with disbelief. “A witch? Sam, that’s… that’s crazy. You can’t be serious.”
“A few minutes ago, I blanked out, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I saw something. And I think I can show you.”
Sam picked up the apple, put it between them and grabbed Erin by both hands. “Focus on the apple,” she said.
Erin scoffed and tried to move her hands away, but Sam held on tightly. “You’re hurting me.”
“Look at the apple,” said Sam.
The entire cafeteria went silent. Everyone froze in place, their conversations hanging in the air. It was as if time itself had stopped.
Erin looked at the apple and witnessed the tale unfold. Rain, sun, light and dark. The harvest. Apple’s sacrifice. Her eyes widened, her hands trembling in Sam’s grip as she witnessed the apple’s life and death. In front of them, the apple shriveled and turned to dust.
Sam released Erin’s hands and the two girls looked at each other, tears streaming down their cheeks. Erin looked around the cafeteria but no one paid them any attention. Business as usual. The apple was their secret.
Erin stared at the dust that was once an apple, then back at Sam. “This isn’t possible. How am I going to eat again?” asked Erin quietly, not expecting an answer. Of course, she would eat again. It was human nature. Survive. Thrive.
Sam laughed. “Remember when we tried to make that potion in sixth grade?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood. “Who knew I’d turn out to be a real witch!”
Erin smiled thinly and they sat in silence, the noisy din of the cafeteria washing over them. They were in their own world, a world that had just shifted on its axis.
“I’m scared,” said Sam. “I don’t know what is happening to me.” Something has changed. I’ve changed.
“We’ll figure it out together,” said Erin.
“Thanks.” Sam forced a bright smile, her eyes meeting Erin’s. Let’s get the fuck out of here,” she said, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. “It’s my day and I want to have fun.” Erin nodded, squeezing Sam’s hand in silent support. They would face this together.
In a high school hallway, Erin Warren feels content being Samantha’s sidekick, enjoying the warmth from Sam’s golden aura and blending into the background. However, her invisibility gives her the ability to move unnoticed, observe others, and protect Sam from harm, like from a threatening Tabitha Kearn. After Sam experiences a mystical connection with an apple, Erin becomes even more determined to protect her best friend, as Tabitha may now pose a larger threat due to understanding Sam’s new power. Erin resolves to face down any danger to keep Sam safe.
Erin Warren had been Samantha’s closest friend for as long as either of them could recall. An unbreakable bond forged sometime in those hazy, half-remembered years before kindergarten, fortified over innumerable shared milestones, meltdowns and triumphs throughout their childhood. They were yin and yang, peas in a pod, two halves of the same eccentric whole.
Sam’s the limelight-hogging drama queen everyone flocks to, while I’m her ever-present, ever-faithful sidekick. Erin didn’t mind playing second fiddle to her vivacious bestie one bit. In fact, she downright reveled in the role, content to bask in the periphery of Sam’s brilliant aura. Makes life way simpler that way.
After all, it was no great mystery why Sam drew the eye of every person who crossed her path, be they doe-eyed admirer or grudgingly impressed teacher. With her twinkling hazel eyes and cascading chestnut curls, not to mention that megawatt smile, Sam radiated an effortless beauty that put her firmly in the realm of the genetically blessed. But her sparkling physical appearance was just the opening act—it was her warm, witty personality and keen intellect that invariably secured her place as the star of whatever show she walked into.
Being near Sam was like basking in the glow of a warm fire. Her aura, a soft golden hue visible only to Erin, was a constant source of comfort.
The school hallway was a symphony of sounds to Erin, from the distant echo of laughter to the rhythmic squeak of sneakers against the polished floor. The air smelled of chalk dust and the faint scent of cafeteria food, and she could feel the cool glass of the hallway windows under her fingertips as she walked.
The river of people seemed to part for Sam to pass in her meandering cadence, Erin moved with purpose through the eddies of the hallway, her eyes scanning the crowd of students. She weaved through groups, her steps light and unobtrusive, her presence barely noticed.
While me? I just kinda…blend. Erin’s eyes crinkled at the corners as she regarded her own nondescript reflection in the cool glass of the hallway windows. The soft fabric of her faded tee brushed against her skin, a comforting sensation. A petite, not-quite-plain little wren with a permanent case of bedhead and an unremarkable wardrobe of faded tees and mom jeans. She blended seamlessly into any environment, an unobtrusive, unmemorable ghost flitting through the peripheral vision of those around her. A living, breathing afterthought.
But far from resenting her invisibility, Erin wielded it like a finely honed weapon. Where most would feel slighted at being so easily overlooked, she instead carefully cultivated an innate sense of anonymity that granted her unparalleled mobility. After all, who paid any mind to a background extra drifting through the scenes of life? Erin could slip in and out of circumstances, situations and social circles with none the wiser, a silent observer privy to the most intimate secrets and underbelly vulnerabilities of her peers. It was like she was a ghost, able to move through the world without disturbing it.
That’s my real superpower—being unseen.
It wasn’t that Erin lacked an internal life of her own—far from it. She too nurtured a vibrant kaleidoscope of ambitions, hopes and romantic daydreams churning away beneath her mild-mannered exterior. Erin simply kept those passions tightly leashed, only allowing them to unfurl behind closed doors in the sacred space she shared with Sam. Her best friend provided a judgment-free zone where Erin could be unabashedly, unrepentantly herself without the suffocating scrutiny of prying eyes.
And in turn, Erin extended that same stalwart support and devotion right back to Sam. Where her friend was a shining beacon drawing all manner of attention, both welcomed and unwanted, Erin was her loyal defender. Her shadow operative, slipping through the cracks and crevices to deflect any malicious rumors, locker room taunts or social sniping before they could land on their intended target.
Nothing gets past me. Not when it comes to protecting Sam.
Which was why Erin had her sights firmly trained on the likes of Tabitha Kearn these days.
Whenever Tabitha was around, the atmosphere seemed to shift. The air grew colder, the chatter of students dying down as they instinctively avoided her path. Even the teachers seemed to tread carefully around her, their smiles strained and their eyes wary.
It set Erin’s protective instincts on high alert. Tabitha’s furtive scowls and narrowed sidelong glances whenever Sam passed by fairly screamed her envy and dislike for the popular, well-adjusted girl.
Tabitha had a certain smell, like old books and dust, that lingered in the air long after she had passed. Her voice, when she spoke, was a grating whisper that set Erin’s teeth on edge. More importantly, her brooding presence pinged every single one of Erin’s finely honed ‘threat’ sensors.
That girl is seriously unstable. Obsessed in a really dark, disturbing way. Erin had made a study of the estranged outsider over the past few months, carefully cataloging her aberrant behaviors and antisocial slinking through the shadows. People like her don’t just pout about being unpopular—they stew and fester and lash out in crazy ways.
The fact that Tabitha seemed intensely fixated on her vivacious best friend set Erin’s teeth on edge. She redoubled her vigilance, alert to even the slightest indication that the volatile girl might try to strike out in some twisted bid for acknowledgement or retribution. Not that Sam would ever take Tabitha’s shadowed glowers and sullen sneers seriously; her bestie possessed an almost preternatural talent for shrugging off negativity with a beatific smile and kind word for any troubled soul.
That big old heart of hers is gonna get her in trouble one of these days.
So when the bizarre…episode with the apple had sent both girls into a tailspin of tears and bewildered revelation, Erin had been positively blindsided. One moment they’d been languidly bantering over their usual lunchtime fare, syrupy gossip and playful jabs flowing as naturally as breathing. The next, Sam had gone rigid and ashen like she’d been sucker-punched, only to then somehow…upend Erin’s entire understanding of the universe with whatever mind-blowing magic she’d tapped into.
How the hell did she do that? Share the whole life story and essence of that stupid piece of produce with me and make me feel it like I was the one who’d endured it all?!
The kiss of spring rain had felt like tiny pinpricks on her skin, the blaze of summer sunlight was a warmth that spread through her, and the creeping dread of the final harvest was a cold shiver down her spine.
Erin felt like she had been plunged into icy water. She’d been utterly unprepared for the depth of communion she’d experienced, the intrinsic truth imparted by Sam’s impossible gift. Even now, the air smelled of fresh apple, a sweet and tangy scent that seemed to hang in the air. Can I still protect Sam, now that everything has changed? I’m terrified.
But somewhere amidst the torrential kaleidoscope of disjointed flashes, one stark impression had rung through with clarity, further solidifying the sick, sinking feeling In Erin’s gut.
Tabitha had been there, in the cafeteria. Skulking among the fringes and forgotten alcoves with that trademark look of pent-up madness simmering behind her eyes, her hand reaching up to touch her own cheek, as if she could feel the apple’s life story herself.
Tabitha had witnessed Sam’s startling awakening, had undoubtedly absorbed every nuance of the mystical vision. And worst of all, some visceral part of Erin knew Tabitha had grasped the significance fully—along with all its dangerous implications.
She saw the whole thing go down. Which means she now knows exactly what Sam is…
A menacing shiver raced up Erin’s spine at the dire prospect. She couldn’t begin to fathom the profound, fantastical reality her best friend had ushered her into with that transient brush against nature’s purest form. Of her place in this new, magical paradigm. All she could process at the moment was the bone-deep need to shield Sam at all costs from those vultures like Tabitha who would seek to disrupt or exploit their world.
I always trusted my instincts about that freak before, but now? Erin’s hands clenched spasmodically, nails biting into her palms. Now she’s an even bigger threat than I could’ve dreamed. One I sure as hell won’t let anywhere near Sam.
Erin could sense her behind them. She didn’t have to look. She knew. Tabitha moved like a predator’s shadow, her steps silent and her gaze intense. She kept to the edges of the crowd, her eyes always on Sam. Her hands, balled into fists, at her sides, a telltale sign of her agitation.
Tabitha Kearn and her crooked, envy-laced ogling would just have to be dealt with, one way or another. Because when it came to protecting her best friend from outside forces, Erin would unleash every bit of ferocity in her slight, unassuming arsenal.
Erin’s jaw set in a determined line. She would protect Sam, no matter what. She would face down any threat, endure any hardship. She was ready.
Sam may have awakened a big, crazy new power today, but my role stays the same as always—the silent, ever-watchful guardian. Only now the stakes are so much higher…
Dorian returns to his old high school, recalled by a wave of memories. He worries about his sister Sam’s transition and their father’s ignorance, underlining how their mother’s death changed their lives. He becomes a Council member to take action, but their relationship with their father has deteriorated. An encounter with Sam and Erin at the school causes a power surge, prompting Dorian’s concern for training Sam and ensuring she doesn’t let her power consume her. The scene ends with Dorian reassuring Sam and embracing her. Their bond is strong, and they vow to face any challenges together.
The cab rolled to a stop in front of the familiar redbrick facade, and Dorian’s stomach twisted into a knot. His old high school. A wave of memories crashed over him—the good, the bad, and the ones he’d tried his damnedest to forget. He handed some bills to the driver and mumbled a thanks before climbing out.
The scent of freshly cut grass brought a shiver racing down his spine as the cab peeled away, leaving him alone on the sidewalk. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunched against the chill spring breeze.
This place. Christ. His gaze drifted over the rows of windows glinting like golden eyes in the afternoon sunlight. How’d it only been a year? Felt more like a freakin’ lifetime.
Somewhere inside those aged brick walls, the muffled clang of the mid-afternoon bell rang out, punctuated by a rising rebel yell of adolescent voices. His jaw clenched. Any second now, the horde would come spilling out, a chaotic sea of horny teens and half-chewed pizza crusts. Any second, he’d see—
Sam.
As soon as the plane touched down, before the roar of the engines quieted, a chill ran through Dorian’s core. He knew Sam’s transition had begun. He worried that if he could, then others could as well. Both the Council and the Weist Family had their fair share of enemies. It’s too bad that his father refused to prepare his children for what was to come.
A scowl formed on Dorian’s face as he thought about it. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palm as he thought about his father’s ignorance.
Dad was never a witch, but he fell head over heels for one. He had no idea what he was getting into. There was no way he could be prepared for the dangerous activities the Council had his wife Irene undertake. He should have walked away.
Hell, who could, right? Mom tried to shield us, same as Dad, but that dog don’t hunt in our world. If I had a nickel for every stubborn witch who refused to accept reality until it punched ‘em right in the teeth—
Now Sam and Dorian were without their mother and their father clung to the lie that he could hide the world from them and they from it. If only it worked that way. If only.
A flood of students burst through the double doors, hollering and shoving. Dorian shrank back against the building, doing his damnedest to fade into the cracked brick. He was invisible to them, just a forgettable, worn-out face in the crowd. An old, weathered ghost slipped back to haunt the hallways one last time.
Hey, Dor. Damn, how’s that arm?
Yo, dude. Still chucking fireballs?
He ducked his head at the sparse greetings and half-assed nods, ignoring the confused looks as he passed—his glamour held, but just barely. A drunk kid stumbled into his shoulder; Dorian tensed, waiting for a fight that never came. Just another face, blending into the tomorrow of memories and bathroom-stall whispers. Smile and nod.
The dull roar receded as the crowd dispersed, wandering off toward cars and busses or just killing time on the cracked concrete steps. Dorian kept his eyes trained on the double doors, not trusting himself to look anywhere else.
He was only nine when Mom’d been slaughtered by a demon, just a scared kid watching the person he loved most torn apart before his eyes. Sam had been eight, just a little girl completely unaware of the darkness lurking in the world beyond the veil of innocence. He’d seen it all in agonizing, burned-forever detail. The blood, the screams, the flashes of black smoke as Mom tried to fight back.
A wave of nausea gripped him, doubling him over. His hands shook as he squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to force the memories away. Not now, not when he needed to stay sharp and focused.
Breathe. Just breathe.
After, it had just been him, Sam, and Dad rattling around in that big, empty house. A new reality where Mom wasn’t there to tuck them in at night or make pancakes on Saturday mornings. A fractured family of broken souls, grief turning to rage turning to bitter silence.
Nine years old and I wished that thing had taken me instead.
On his eighteenth birthday, Dorian looked his father in the eye and said, “I’m joining the Council, Dad. I can’t sit back and do nothing.” Philip’s face turned ashen, and he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Dorian was left with his anger echoing in the silent room, but for the ticking of the old clock on the wall. They hadn’t been getting along for years— that Dorian would leave was inevitable. Conversation now was rare and acrimonious. I’m still just a scared kid pissed at the world for taking my mom. Was all she wrote.
Dorian felt the quick stab of Sam’s power being used and he knew she’d not make it past the hour before she’d be casting fireballs of her own. A voice cut through the chatter and interrupted his thoughts, “Still playing with matches, Dorian?” Smile and nod.
Sam needs training, and fast. She’s powerful, but raw power is dangerous without control. Dorian recalled the grueling hours he spent under Merle’s tutelage, each spell cast, each incantation uttered was a testament to efficiency. He knew Sam needed the same, if not more. Dorian would never claim wizardry, but he was a good student and soon had mastery of his magic. It was a simple kind of magic— brutish and effective— just what was needed for a good soldier of the Council.
Sam’s training would be different. It was already stronger. The question was: would she be able to master it or would it master her?
A warm, almost tropical, breeze swept across the schoolyard, sending papers flying and skirts billowing. Dorian’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t need to turn around to know that Sam had arrived. She’s coming. Sam walked down the steps with Erin in tow. The air around her crackled with energy and thrummed in time with her pulse, as if the world itself was reacting to Sam’s arrival. He could taste the scorched ozone. Students nearby stopped, their eyes wide with awe and fear, but didn’t know where to look.
When his sister saw him, he wore a huge grin, setting his worries aside for the time being. She ran over, her shoes thudding against the pavement and her laughter ringing out in the schoolyard, and bounded into his arms. “Missed me, big brother?”
Don’t worry, Sam. We’ve got this. We’re stronger together.
During a rainy afternoon, Dorian meets up with his sister Samantha, who is frustrated with their father. Their conversation abruptly ends when Dorian receives news of their father’s distress. They hurry home to find him unable to breathe. Dorian explains to Sam that their father’s ‘trap’ is shut, and they must use magic to reverse it. Holding hands, they picture their father being okay and infuse the spell with their emotions. With the dragon trinket as a catalyst, they successfully break the spell, reviving their father. He congratulates Sam on her Initiation Day.
When the girls went outside, Dorian stood tall, his leather jacket slightly worn at the edges, his dark hair tousled from the wind, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Dorian!” squealed Sam as she bolted towards Dorian, her school bag swinging wildly behind her, and launched herself into his arms. The scent of worn leather wafted from Dorian’s jacket, a comforting imagining of his countless adventures.
“Hey, half-pint. I missed you too,” he said as he ruffled her hair. Even though they were close in age, he was more than a foot taller than Sam.
“Stop that,” she said, combing her hair with her fingers. “You’re here early. I still got school.”
He looked at the girls and smirked. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure the last afternoon class wasn’t on the agenda.”
Dorian turned to Erin. “Listen, me and Sam got some catching up to do. You mind if I steal her for a while?”
“Not at all, stud.”
“Erin!” said Samantha.
“Just being real, girl. Catcha later. And Sam, be careful,” said Erin and headed back up the steps to class.
Dorian’s hand shot to his pocket as his phone vibrated. He pulled it out, his eyes widening at the caller ID. He shot a glance at Sam, his eyes clouded with worry, and stepped away to answer the call in hushed, urgent whispers.
A minute later, he was back.
“What was that about?” asked Sam.
“That was… unexpected. We need to move, Sam.” Gawd, he’s still so broody serious.
They walked along the sidewalk, the sun casting long, eerie shadows through the skeletal branches of the trees, the silence only broken by the distant hoot of an owl.
“You’ve been gone a long time, Dor. Things are crazy weird lately. Especially today.”
“I know.”
“That’s why you’re home, isn’t it? Something about my Initiation Day. What the Hell is that about?”
“Can’t fool you can I, Sam?”
They fell into step, their familiar banter filling the air, a testament to the years of shared secrets and laughter.
Dorian pulled a small trinket from his pocket, a tiny dragon figurine with emerald eyes that seemed to glow mysteriously. “Remember this, half-pint?” he asked, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. Sam’s face lit up at the sight of the familiar toy, a relic from their shared past. He handed it to her and she put it in her pocket.
“Thanks.”
Dorian asked Sam about school and she asked him about being away. He kept steering the conversation back to her. Eventually, the topic turned back to the mystery of the hour. Initiation Day.
“Really, Dor. Why does Dad always have to be like that all the time? Sometimes, I wish he would just sh..”
“Don’t, Sam. Don’t finish that thought.”
Too late. “What are you talking about? You’re still so melodramatic, just like him.”
Dorian dialed his phone and put his finger in front of his sister’s lips as it rang. When it connected, there was a bunch of noise like banging and crashing. Sam couldn’t make any sense of it. Dorian’s face paled as the cacophony from the other end of the line filled the air.
“Don’t worry, Dad. We’ll be right there,” he said and ended the call.
Dorian turned to his sister, his hand cold and firm around hers. ‘Sam… brace yourself,’ he said, his voice barely a whisper as the world around them seemed to hold its breath.
“What’s going on?” asked Sam. “Is Dad okay?”
“No, he’s not.” Dorian grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her straight in the face. His fingers dug into her shoulders, an icy touch that belied the heat she could feel pulsing off him. “Think, Sam. What were you thinking about just when you were ranting about Dad?”
Sam’s eyes widened, her skin paling to a ghostly white. A moment later, a rush of color flooded her cheeks as the memory of the apple and its oddity hit her. A memory flashed in her mind, her father teaching her how to ride a bike, his laughter echoing in her ears.“I don’t know. I just wanted him to…”
“To what? Sam, it’s important.”
“I just wanted him to stop and keep his trap shut.”
“And what happened next?”
Oh God. What did I do?
“Okay, we gotta run. We need to fix this. Hurry.”
Dorian took off with his long stride and Sam’s breath hitched as she sprinted after Dorian, her legs pumping with a strength honed from a year of cross-country running.
The rain sputtered and started, whipping their faces and stinging them as they ran. Each drop was like a tiny icy dagger, the cold seeping into their bones. Their feet slapped wetly against the sidewalk, the sound echoing in the empty street. Their breathing was loud and ragged, the only other sound in the eerie silence. Dorian skidded and slipped on the overgrown lawn.
She ignored the stitch in her side as she rounded up the driveway to the side door, almost slamming into her brother as stopped on the stoop.
“Keys, Sam. Keys!” His voice was both a whisper and scream in her head.
She fished in her pocket, dropped them. Dorian caught them mid-drop. He unlocked the door and they rushed inside. The familiar scent of old books and lemon-scented polish filled her nostrils, but it was deathly quiet.
They squatted beside his body and he noiselessly looked up at his children, his eyes wide and glassy.
Dorian answered the unspoken question. “Dad, I couldn’t stop her. She’s so strong. I can feel it.”
“Stop me from what?” asked a bewildered Sam. “What’s wrong with Dad?”
“He can’t breathe, Sam. His trap is shut.”
Dorian examined his father’s frozen eyes. The pupils twitched but otherwise he was still and lifeless. The color was draining from his face.
Sam stood and paced wildly, her whole body trembling. Her heart pounded. Bile rose in her throat. I’m gonna throw up. She wrung her hands together, her fingers white-knuckled. Her breath came out in short, ragged gasps, mirroring the fear that was etched on her face. Dad should be moving. He’s paralyzed. He’s suffocating. He’s dying.
Dorian placed his hands over his father’s face and closed his own eyes. Sam heard him mutter some strange gibberish. As Dorian chanted, the air around them seemed to thicken, crackling with unseen energy. The room dimmed, and for a moment, they were in a world made only of shadows and whispers. The room filled with a soft, ethereal light, casting long, dancing shadows on the walls. After a minute, Dorian stood and pulled Sam to her feet.
He took a deep breath, “If we don’t reverse this in the next few minutes, Dad could be stuck like this… forever. Or worse.” His eyes were wide, his whole face flushed with fear, lips pressed tight in a grim line of sadness, but a spark of excitement flickered in his gaze. “I don’t know if we can do this, Sam. But we have to try.”
“Dorian, I don’t understand. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for him to…”
“Listen, Sammy,” said Dorian. “Remember how we used to fix Dad’s old radio? It’s just like that. Except with magic.”
“This is all new to you, Sam,” Dorian said, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. “Magic is all about intent and emotion. You have to really mean it, or it could backfire.”
She pulled back. Dorian continued, “Take my hands. It’s okay. I’ll show you.”
Fear clawed at her insides, but Sam swallowed hard, drew in a shuddering breath, and forcibly willed her trembling hands to still. I’ve always been the calm one, the peacemaker. I need to be the fighter.
They stood over their father’s prone body and joined hands.
Dorian’s voice was low and even. “Close your eyes, Sis, and concentrate on Dad being okay.”
She did and Sam felt her hands get warm and her feet grow cold. As they joined hands, a soft glow began to emanate, casting long, dancing shadows on the walls. The static behind her eyes flashed gold and rust electric against a black canvas.
“Wait”, she said and reached into her pocket for the emerald dragon. I don’t know why I’m doing this but it feels… right. She placed in on her Dad’s chest between them and nodded to Dorian. “I’m ready”.
She pictured her Dad pushing her on the swing-set. Sam, a little girl in pigtails, laughing. Her daddy strong and alive. He laughed strong and she loved him. The floorboards of the house cracked and snapped their complaint. Spicy fragrances filled the room. Cinnamon. Why cinnamon? Is that Old Spice?
“That’s it, Sam. Your love for him, it’s stronger than any spell. Hold onto that,” said Dorian.
The dragon trinket, glowed warmly in the waning light, its jeweled eyes seeming to come alive, holding a secret.
I can’t lose him. I won’t. Resolve ignited in her, burning away the remaining fear. Not today. Not ever.
Their hands burned hot but there was no pain. Then it was gone. The heat, the cold and the electricity all vanished with the kaleidoscope of her mind’s eye.
A beat of quiet. Nothing. Another eternal moment passed. Their father arched his back with a spasm of breath. It was over.
Sam dropped her hands to her side and opened her eyes. Her legs gave out from under her and she collapsed on the floor, exhaustion washing over her. Dorian helped her back to her feet. Her father stood between them, a new light in his eyes. His voice, stronger than she remembered, boomed, “Happy Initiation Day, Sam.”
Sam leads Erin into the closed amusement park, dismissing her fears about people disappearing there. As they navigate the dark, abandoned park, Erin becomes increasingly spooked by the shadows and the unearthly music from the merry-go-round. Suddenly, the ride comes to life, chasing them in its mechanical gallop. Dorian reveals himself, having set it in motion as part of a surprise training for Sam. Succumbing to her fear, Erin stumbles and falls, causing the ride to stop. Dorian laughs, greeting Erin and preparing to start Sam’s training.
Sam’s voice was a playful lilt in the darkness, her eyes glinting with mischief as she tugged Erin towards the park’s shadowy entrance. “Always the Fraidy Cat, huh?” she taunted. “What’s the matter, Erin? Scared of a little adventure?”
Erin yanked her arms away and continued to protest, her palms sweaty against the cool night air and her a voice shaky whisper lost in the murk. “I dunno, Sam. You know I’m a hopeless rule-follower. The park is closed.”
Sam’s eyes danced upwards, a silent testament to her disbelief. “The park has been closed for years. What’s the big deal?”
“Sam, you know the stories about this place. People have disappeared here.”
“I call bullshit on that, Erin.” Gawd, the whining.
“But it’s dark. You don’t know who’s here.”
“No one is here. Look, the quickest way to my house is through the amusement park. You want to see Dorian, don’t you?”
“Yes, but…”
Enough. “But nothing. My brother is home and I don’t know for how long. He came to see me. I want to hang with him.”
The park was a graveyard of forgotten fun, with rusted rides jutting out like skeletons against the moonlit sky.
Erin bit her lip hard, the metallic taste filling her mouth as she tucked her hands into the cuffs of her sweater, and folded her arms. “Fine, but let’s hurry. This place creeps me out.”
“Fraidy Cat.”
“Witch.”
Sam nearly stumbled at hearing that word voiced aloud but recovered her balance. Better than being called a bitch, I guess. Erin wouldn’t curse if her life depended upon it. ‘Witch’ would have to be fine. She smiled to herself and laughed. “Let’s go.”
The darkness was a living entity, swallowing up the light and casting long, monstrous shadows that danced and twisted with every flicker of the lone streetlamp. It was a thick blanket, heavy and suffocating, making the air taste of cold iron.
Totally Spooksville. “Watch out for Old Man Winters,” mocked Sam.
“Ruh-roh, Raggy,” said Erin in retort, mimicking everyone’s favorite talking great dane.
The abandoned trucks and trailers looked like bleached bone stained with bloody rust. The girls scampered stealthily between the ragged puddles of light like they used to do as children, playing ‘the floor is lava’ in their living rooms.
Sam kicked at a loose stone, sending it skittering into the darkness. “Scared of a little adventure, Erin?” she teased. Erin bit her lip, her gaze darting around the shadowy park.
“I still think this is a bad idea,” Erin muttered, crossing her arms.
Sam rolled her eyes. “And I still don’t care.” She held up the loose chain doing a terrible job of holding the inner gate closed. Erin tucked under and Sam followed.
On the other side, the lamplight grew dim and it became hard to tell shadow from darkness. They ambled carefully through the rides, towering twisted sea monsters in the ocean of night.
The wind whistled through the skeletal remains, carrying with it the scent of rust and long-forgotten popcorn. The girls’ footsteps echoed in the silence, a stark reminder of the park’s desolation.
“What was your favorite ride?” asked Erin, her voice echoing louder than seemed possible.
Sam jumped at the break in silence. Sure, she put up a brave front, but the dark always unnerved her. She shivered as the shadows deepened, her heart picking up pace. She’d see things no one else did. Or at least she thought until recently.
“The Ferris wheel,” said Sam. “I love the view.” She looked at her friend through the grey murk. They walked side by side. “What about you?”
Erin didn’t answer right away, then pointed ahead. “The merry-go-round.”
“Really?”
“I imagined the animals all real and that I was riding them like a princess.” Erin laughed nervously at the memory.
As they neared the merry-go-round, a faint, eerie melody drifted towards them, barely audible over the wind. “Did you hear that?” Erin asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“No. Maybe rats?” said Sam. Probably rats. Probably.
“Rats?! Fuck no.” Erin giggled nervously at her slip of vulgarity.
Sam looked at the wooden and plastic forms, animals forever imprisoned for their entertainment. She shuddered. Were they laughing or screaming?
“The look sad to me in the dark,” she said.
Erin’s breath hitched as she stared at the horses, once vibrant and inviting, now more like rabid beasts frozen mid-roar, their painted eyes gleaming maliciously, their grinning mouths suddenly snarling in the dim light. “They kinda freak me out.”
“The mouths, right?”
“Yeah. Teeth. Like they want to eat me.”
Without any debate, Sam grabbed Erin’s hand and the girls quickened their step, rounding near the other side of the ride.
Bright light filled the area as the organ-grinder music wound up, awakening from its slumber. Sam turned, whipping Erin’s arm with her and tried to run from the riderless gallop of the ride. The mechanical screech of the unlubricated metal gave way to motion as the merry-go-round picked up the chase. The horses still looked hungry instead of laughing. Erin stumbled, dragging them both to the ground with a yelp.
The music stopped with a bang and the ride lurched to a jarring halt. Sam scrambled to her feet. The lights stayed on, flickering in their dancing pattern to a melody that wasn’t. A full second later, Erin stopped screaming.
A figure vaulted over a unicorn, landing with a thud that echoed through the silent park. Laughter rang out, bouncing off the rusted rides and filling the night. As the figure stepped into the flickering light, Dorian’s familiar grin came into view, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Gotcha, Sis,” he said then looked down. “Hi, Erin.” He offered his hand.
He would have gotten away with it too if it wasn’t for us meddling kids. She took it and pulled herself to her feet. “How’d you get that thing working?”
“Magic,” he said and smirked, earning a sharp glare from his sister. “Gotta get your training started.”
“You jerk,” said Sam and punched his shoulder.
Samantha, overwhelmed by her newfound witch abilities, chats with her best friend Erin in the school hallway. She expresses the intensity of her training with Dorian, and the conflicting desire to balance it with spending time with Erin. As they head to the cafeteria for lunch, Sam struggles with the guilt of potentially neglecting her training but remains determined to maintain their friendship.
The funny thing about new love is that it leaves the couple blind to those around them.
Sam felt the warmth of the spring sun on her face as she strolled down the familiar school hallway. Her 18th birthday had come and gone, but the memory of the whirlwind events still lingered. I can’t believe I’m actually a witch, she mused, still wrapping her mind around her newfound abilities.
As she approached her locker, Sam spotted Erin leaning against the wall, waiting for her. A smile spread across her face. At least I have Erin by my side through all of this. She quickened her pace to reach her friend.
“Hey, Erin!” Sam greeted, her voice bubbly with excitement. “I was thinking we could grab some lunch and catch up. It feels like forever since we’ve just hung out, you know?”
Erin returned the smile, her eyes crinkling. “That sounds perfect, Sam. I’m starving.” She pushed herself off the wall and fell into step beside Sam. “So, how’s the witch training going with Dorian?”
Sam’s expression shifted slightly, a hint of uncertainty flickering across her features. “It’s…intense. Dorian is really pushing me, but I guess that’s what I signed up for, right?” She chuckled nervously. “I’m just glad I have you to balance it all out. I don’t know what I’d do without my best friend.”
As they made their way to the cafeteria, Sam couldn’t help but feel torn. On one hand, she knew she needed to focus on honing her magical abilities with Dorian’s guidance. But on the other, she craved the comfort and normalcy of simply hanging out with Erin, away from the pressure of her newfound responsibilities.
Maybe I can find a way to do both, she thought, determined to find a balance. Sam knew she couldn’t neglect her training, but she also didn’t want to lose the strong bond she shared with Erin. I’ll figure it out. I have to.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Sam led the way to their usual lunch spot, ready to enjoy a much-needed break with her best friend.
As they settled in and began to eat, Sam couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. She knew she needed to dedicate time to her training with Dorian, but the thought of missing out on precious moments with Erin was almost too much to bear.
Samantha strolls along the boardwalk with Erin and Dorian, their hands intertwined. The ocean breeze carries the scent of saltwater, and seagulls fly overhead. Sam smiles, glad to see Erin and Dorian getting along well. She joins their hands, feeling a sense of contentment. The weight of her newfound magical abilities feels lighter. Erin and Dorian both comment on the peacefulness of their outing and ask Sam how she’s coping with her training. Sam replies that she’s doing okay and is grateful for their support. Erin finds the whole witch thing surreal, but Dorian reassures her that it takes time to adjust. Sam feels lucky to have both Erin and Dorian in her life, especially as their budding romance blossoms. They continue walking, enjoying the connection between them.
Samantha smiled as she watched Erin and Dorian stroll ahead of her, their hands intertwined. The late spring air carried the familiar scent of saltwater, and the sound of seagulls overhead filled the quiet boardwalk.
It’s nice to see them getting along so well, Sam thought, quickening her pace to catch up to her best friend and her brother. As she slid her hands into theirs, she felt a sense of contentment wash over her. For the first time in weeks, the weight of her newfound magical abilities felt a little lighter.
“This is nice,” Erin commented, giving Sam’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad we could all come out together.”
Dorian nodded in agreement, his gaze drifting out toward the gently lapping waves. “It’s good to get away from everything, even if just for a little while.” His eyes settled on Sam, a soft smile playing on his lips. “How are you holding up, sis?”
Sam let out a small sigh, her shoulders relaxing. “I’m doing okay, I think. The training has been intense, but…” She trailed off, her eyes meeting Dorian’s. “I’m glad I have you both here to support me.”
Erin bumped her shoulder playfully. “Of course, Sam. We’re in this together, remember?” Her expression turned thoughtful. “Although, I have to admit, the whole witch thing still feels a little surreal.”
Dorian chuckled, giving Erin’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Trust me, it takes some getting used to. But you two are handling it better than I did when I first found out.”
Sam couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image of a younger Dorian, wide-eyed and confused, learning about their family’s magical heritage. “I can only imagine.” She glanced between her brother and her best friend, feeling a surge of gratitude. “I’m really lucky to have you both.”
As they continued their leisurely stroll, Sam couldn’t help but marvel at the easy camaraderie between Erin and Dorian. The budding romance was undeniable, and she found herself feeling a sense of contentment, knowing that her two favorite people were connecting on such a deep level.
Sam follows Dorian and Erin through the lively flea market, feeling a bit lonely. She points out their happiness together, then distracts herself with her phone. When Erin admires a necklace, Dorian helps her wear it, and Sam feels left out. Dorian notices her unease and asks if she’s okay. Sam tries to hide her feelings but appreciates their support. They assure her they’re there for her if she needs to talk. Sam feels better after their reassurance.
Samantha trailed behind Dorian and Erin, her gaze fixed on the screen of her phone as they strolled through the bustling flea market. The sound of their laughter and the playful banter between them drifted back to her, and she couldn’t help but feel a pang of wistfulness.
I’m happy for them, she told herself, forcing a smile as she quickened her pace to catch up. But it’s hard not to feel like the odd one out sometimes.
Dorian glanced over his shoulder, his brow furrowing slightly. “Hey, Sammy, you doing okay back there?”
Sam nodded, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just…looking at some stuff on my phone.” She gestured vaguely to the rows of vendors around them. “This place is pretty cool, though.”
Erin turned, her expression concerned. “You sure you’re alright? We can slow down if you want.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Sam assured them, offering a more genuine smile. “I’m just…taking it all in, you know?”
Dorian and Erin exchanged a look, and Sam could see the unspoken worry in their eyes. She hated feeling like a burden, like she was holding them back from enjoying themselves. Maybe I should just let them have their moment, she thought, her gaze drifting back to her phone.
“Hey, why don’t we grab some lunch?” Dorian suggested, his hand finding Erin’s. “I saw a great food truck a few stalls down.”
Erin’s face lit up, and she nodded eagerly. “That sounds perfect. What do you think, Sam?”
Sam hesitated, her fingers tightening around her phone. “Actually, I think I’m gonna keep exploring the market for a bit. You two go ahead and grab something to eat.”
Dorian’s brow furrowed, but before he could protest, Erin squeezed his hand. “Okay, well, we’ll come find you when we’re done, alright?”
Sam nodded, mustering up another smile. “Sounds good. Enjoy your lunch.”
As Dorian and Erin wandered off, Sam let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping. She knew she should be happy for them, that their blossoming relationship was a good thing, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness that threatened to overwhelm her.
Maybe I should have just gone with them, she thought, her gaze drifting over the crowded market. But I don’t want to ruin their moment. They deserve to have some time to themselves.
Shaking her head, Sam forced herself to focus on the task at hand, determined to find something to distract herself from the nagging sense of isolation that had taken root in her heart.
Sam spends a week in her mother’s occult library, studying ancient tomes and journals. She is captivated by the knowledge they hold and feels as though she’s peeling back the veil of reality. Her father watches her, uncertain about her involvement in the occult but proud nonetheless. Sam feels the weight of her mother’s legacy and wants to master her abilities. With Dorian and Erin’s support, she continues her studies, finding guidance in the Grimoire. Her father reassures her that she’s not alone, as they’re both a part of a family of witches. Sam feels a renewed sense of purpose.
Sam spent the next week immersed in her mother’s occult library, poring over ancient tomes and faded journals. The dusty volumes held a wealth of knowledge, both captivating and unsettling.
I can’t believe this is all real, Sam thought, her fingers tracing the intricate symbols and runes scrawled across the pages. Each new discovery felt like peeling back the veil of reality, exposing a hidden world of magic and power.
Her father, Phil, had been reluctant to share these artifacts, but Sam could see the pain and longing in his eyes as he watched her delve into her mother’s legacy. He’s probably worried I’ll end up like her.
Sam shook her head, forcing those dark thoughts away. She was determined to master her newfound abilities, to understand the full extent of her powers. With Dorian’s guidance and Erin’s steadfast support, she felt a newfound sense of purpose.
As the days passed, Sam lost herself in the ancient texts, absorbing every word, every incantation. The Grimoire, in particular, captivated her, its leather-bound cover whispering secrets of a bygone era.
If I can just figure out how to harness this magic, maybe I can—
Sam’s train of thought was interrupted by a soft knock at her bedroom door. “Come in,” she called, reluctantly tearing her gaze away from the open book.
Phil Weist stood in the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and pride. “How’s it going, kiddo? Find anything interesting?”
Sam offered him a sheepish smile. “Actually, yeah. There’s so much I still don’t understand, but…” She glanced down at the Grimoire, her fingers tracing the intricate designs on the cover. “I feel like I’m starting to piece it all together.”
Her father stepped into the room, his eyes sweeping over the scattered books and journals. “Your mother would be proud of you, you know. She always hoped you’d follow in her footsteps.”
Sam felt a pang in her chest at the mention of her mother. “I wish she was here to guide me through all of this.”
Phil let out a heavy sigh, his hand coming to rest on Sam’s shoulder. “I know, sweetheart. But you’re not alone. Dorian and I, we’re here for you. And Erin too.” He gave her a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve got a whole family of witches to lean on.”
Sam felt a surge of gratitude, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Thanks, Dad.” She reached up and covered his hand with her own. “I don’t know what I’d do without you all.”
Phil smiled, the lines around his eyes crinkling. “You’re going to be just fine, Sam. I have faith in you.”
With a final pat on her shoulder, he turned and left the room, leaving Sam to continue her studies, her heart filled with a renewed sense of purpose.
Samantha Weist peruses an ancient demonology book, contemplating her friend Erin’s potential isolation between her friendship with Sam and her romance with Dorian. Sam experiences guilt and a desire for connections. She finds solace in a dragon figurine gifted by her mother and decides to involve Erin more in their shared life. Arriving in the kitchen, Sam prepares to be a better friend to Erin.
Samantha Weist stared down at the ancient demonology tome in her lap, her fingers tracing the intricate symbols on the weathered pages. As she flipped through the dusty volume, her mind couldn’t help but wander to the budding romance between her best friend and her brother.
Erin must feel like such a third wheel sometimes, Sam mused, a pang of guilt tugging at her heart. She knew how it felt to be on the outside, watching as the two most important people in her life grew closer.
Sam let out a heavy sigh, closing the book and setting it aside. She leaned back against the plush couch, her gaze drifting to the window, where the sun was beginning to set. The golden light filtered through the glass, casting a warm glow across the room.
I should be happy for them, she chided herself, but I can’t help but feel…left out.
It wasn’t that Sam resented Erin and Dorian’s relationship. In fact, she found it endearing to see the two people she cared about most finding happiness together. But there was a part of her that couldn’t help but long for that same kind of connection, that deep, unbreakable bond.
Sam knew she had a larger-than-life personality, and sometimes that could be overwhelming for those around her. Maybe Erin does feel like the odd one out when Dorian and I are together. The thought made her heart sink.
Reaching into the pocket of her jeans, Sam pulled out a small, worn dragon figurine. It had been a gift from her mother, a symbol of the family’s magical legacy. Tracing the intricate scales with her fingertips, Sam felt a sense of comfort wash over her.
I may not have a romantic partner, but I have my family. And Erin. She smiled to herself, tucking the figurine back into her pocket. That’s what really matters.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Sam stood from the couch, determined to find Erin and Dorian. As she made her way through the house, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement. Maybe I can find a way to include Erin more, make her feel less like a third wheel.
Sam’s footsteps quickened as she approached the kitchen, where she could hear the familiar sound of her brother and best friend’s laughter. Time to be a better friend, she thought, squaring her shoulders and pushing open the door.
Samantha Weist channeled her magic, gripping a tree trunk tightly. Across the clearing, Dorian watched her, praise in his voice as she struck a target. As he launched more challenging attacks, Sam stumbled, feeling distant from her best friend, Erin. After the session, Dorian affirmed Sam’s progress, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Erin’s disinterest weighed heavy on their friendship. Determined to include Erin more, Sam resolved to find balance in her training and friendship. Meanwhile, Erin seemed preoccupied, her thoughts and feelings an enigma for Sam.
Samantha Weist gripped the rough bark of the tree trunk, her knuckles turning white as she focused her energy. Across the clearing, Dorian stood with his arms crossed, his expression calm and unwavering.
Concentrate, Sam. You can do this, she told herself, taking a deep breath. Closing her eyes, she felt the familiar tingle of magic coursing through her veins, begging to be unleashed.
“Alright, Sam,” Dorian called out, his voice steady. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Sam opened her eyes, her gaze locking onto the target Dorian had set up in the distance. With a flick of her wrist, she sent a burst of energy hurtling toward the mark, her lips curving into a triumphant grin as it hit the center.
Dorian nodded, a hint of pride in his eyes. “Good. Now, let’s see how you handle this.”
He raised his hand, and suddenly, a swarm of glowing orbs appeared, zipping through the air towards Sam. She tensed, her senses heightened as she prepared to defend herself.
Out of the corner of her eye, Sam caught a glimpse of Erin, sitting on a nearby bench, her expression unreadable. Is she even paying attention? Sam wondered, her focus momentarily wavering.
The orbs closed in, and Sam reacted instinctively, conjuring a shimmering shield to deflect the assault. She gritted her teeth, pouring every ounce of her concentration into maintaining the barrier.
Dorian’s attacks intensified, and Sam felt sweat beading on her brow as she struggled to keep up. Just when she thought she couldn’t hold on any longer, Dorian finally relented, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.
“Well done, Sam,” he said, approaching her. “You’re really starting to get the hang of this.”
Sam let the shield dissipate, her shoulders sagging with relief. She glanced over at Erin, hoping to see a hint of pride or excitement in her best friend’s eyes. But Erin’s gaze was fixed on the ground, her expression pensive.
Why does she always seem so distant during these training sessions? Sam wondered, a pang of hurt tugging at her heart. She knew Erin was supportive of her, but sometimes it felt like she was more interested in Dorian’s progress than Sam’s.
Before Sam could dwell on it further, Dorian was at her side, his hand resting on her shoulder. “You’re doing great, sis. I’m proud of you.”
Sam mustered a smile, her eyes briefly flitting back to Erin. “Thanks, Dor. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
As the trio made their way back to the car, Sam couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of unease. She wanted nothing more than to share this journey with Erin, but it seemed like her best friend was slowly slipping away.
I need to figure out a way to include her more, Sam resolved, determined to find a balance between her magical training and her cherished friendship.
What’s a third wheel to do? Fight boredom any way I can.
Samantha, feeling enraged that Erin is not attending class with her, texts Erin to take notes for her absence. During class, Samantha begins to create a magical sphere with her thoughts and emotions. She fills it with her annoyance and desire for success, as well as romantic fantasies. She weaves sensual scenes into the sphere and watches it betray the hidden desires of Mark, Stacey, and Tabitha. She manipulates their actions through the mist, causing Mark and Stacey to confront their lingering feelings for each other, and Tabitha to become involved. However, her mastery of magic spirals out of her control, causing a rainstorm that she struggles to contain. The mist eventually subsides, leaving Tabitha irritated with Samantha for exposing her to the magic. Samantha leaves feeling uneasy and fearful of the potential consequences of her actions.
Sam was pissed off.
Here she was in class and Erin wasn’t around. She texted her and an hour later the reply came:
‘sorry out with dor’
‘taking a day’
‘can you take notes for me? thx’
Sam clenched her phone, irritation simmering as she read Erin’s message. Of course she’s off with Dorian again. Tightening her grip, Sam took a steadying breath and glanced around the classroom.
The lab partners Mark and Stacey giggled together, oblivious to Sam’s sour mood. Even Tabitha, who usually skulked in the shadows, sat primly at her station, her attention fixed on the experiment.
At least the teacher isn’t breathing down my neck. Sam relaxed marginally, grateful for the reprieve from scrutiny as she pulled out her notebook. As the rest of the class bustled about, she stared down at the blank page, chewing on the end of her pen.
Samantha’s brow furrowed as she considered her next move. Erin was off gallivanting with Dorian, leaving Sam to fend for herself. But she refused to sit idly by, twiddling her thumbs while they had all the fun. With a new determination, she began jotting down notes, determined to excel at the lab without her best friend’s help.
Sam felt a sly grin tug at the corners of her mouth as a spark of mischief flared within her. To hell with Dorian and Erin and their little adventures, she thought, closing her eyes and focusing intently.
In the darkness behind her lids, a beautiful pink light began to take shape, swirling and pulsing as Sam’s imagination directed it. This is just for me, she mused, opening her eyes to find the shimmering orb hovering before her.
I can fill this with my thoughts, my emotions… Samantha reached out, her fingertips brushing the ethereal surface of the light. Instantly, a flood of feelings rushed into the sphere - her irritation at being left out, her determination to excel, her underlying worry that she wasn’t good enough. The orb absorbed it all, pulsing brighter with each passing moment.
This is my own little world, Sam thought, a sense of power and control washing over her. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the glowing sphere zipping through the air, weaving between lab stations and evading the oblivious students. Tabitha’s eyes widened as the light danced past her, and Sam stifled a giggle.
Let’s see what else I can do…
Sam’s fingers danced across the surface of the glowing orb, her mind swirling with romantic fantasies. This is my own private sanctuary, she mused, a sly grin tugging at her lips.
Carefully, she began weaving sensual scenes into the pulsing sphere - couples embracing, hands exploring, lips meeting in passionate kisses. The orb absorbed each vision, glowing brighter with each new image.
Yes, that’s it. Fill up with my desires, Sam thought, her heart racing as the orb pulsed like a heartbeat. She imagined two lovers entwined, their bodies moving together in a primal dance of ecstasy. The orb responded, swelling with the intensity of her thoughts.
Samantha bit her lip, her gaze flicking around the classroom to ensure no one had noticed her magical display. Tabitha was bent over her notes, oblivious to the pulsing light that hovered near the ceiling. Good, let them all be blind to my secret world.
With a gentle flick of her wrist, Sam sent the orb drifting lazily through the air, its deeper pink hue casting a soft glow over the students below. She watched, transfixed, as it dipped and swayed, pulsing in time with her own quickening heartbeat.
This is my own little sanctuary, she thought, a sense of power and control washing over her. No one else can touch this, no one else can see. Samantha felt a surge of possessiveness towards the glowing orb, her desire to keep it hidden only fueling the intensity of the images she fed into it.
The orb swelled, pulsing like a living thing as it absorbed her romantic fantasies. Samantha could almost feel the heat radiating from it, the energy crackling in the air around her. She leaned back in her chair, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she watched her creation drift lazily above the unsuspecting students.
This is mine, and mine alone, she thought, her fingers twitching with the urge to reach out and grasp the orb, to hold it close and bask in its warm glow. But she resisted, knowing that any sudden movements might draw unwanted attention.
Instead, Samantha settled back, her eyes half-lidded as she continued to feed her most intimate thoughts and desires into the pulsing sphere. The world around her faded away, and all that mattered was the steady rhythm of the orb and the tangled web of emotions it contained.
Samantha Weist watched with a sly grin as the glowing orb drifted across the classroom, drawn by the turmoil of her classmates’ emotions. Reaching out with her mind, she guided the pulsing sphere over to where Mark and Stacey sat, their stiff postures and averted gazes betraying the lingering tension between them.
With a gentle flick of her fingers, Sam spread the orb into a gossamer cloud, the shimmering mist drifting invisibly over the former couple. She held her breath, anticipation thrumming through her as she waited to see the effects of her handiwork.
At first, nothing seemed to happen. Mark and Stacey continued to stare resolutely at their lab equipment, their bodies language screaming of discomfort. But then, ever so slowly, Samantha noticed a shift in their demeanor.
Stacey’s shoulders began to relax, the tight line of her jaw softening as she glanced sidelong at Mark. And to Sam’s delight, the boy’s posture mirrored hers, the tension in his frame easing as he turned to meet her gaze.
Samantha held her breath, her heart pounding as she watched the transformation unfold. The mist had worked its magic, breaking down the barriers between the former lovers and allowing their true feelings to surface.
Suddenly, Stacey reached out, her hand brushing against Mark’s as she murmured something too soft for Sam to hear. Mark’s eyes widened, and for a moment, Samantha was certain he would pull away. But instead, he turned his palm upwards, lacing their fingers together in a tentative gesture.
Samantha couldn’t suppress the triumphant grin that spread across her face as she witnessed the rekindling of the couple’s connection. Her little orb had done its job, breaking down the walls and allowing the two to reconnect.
But her satisfaction was short-lived as she noticed Tabitha Kearn’s piercing gaze fixed on the scene unfolding before them. Samantha’s breath caught in her throat, her heart racing with a sudden surge of panic. Had Tabitha seen the mist, or worse, the glowing orb that had set it in motion?
Samantha’s fingers twitched, the orb pulsing in response to her heightened emotions. She needed to act quickly, to conceal the evidence of her magical interference before Tabitha could expose her.
Samantha Weist watched, transfixed, as Mark and Stacey’s expressions softened. The tension that had coiled between them moments before seemed to melt away, replaced by a tentative, hopeful connection.
The reaction was subtle and immediate. Mark and Stacey faced each other and smiled. Stacey reached out for Mark’s hand, and to Samantha’s delight, he took it, their fingers intertwining with a gentle squeeze.
Sam felt a surge of satisfaction, her lips curving into a self-assured grin. Her little orb had worked its magic, breaking down the barriers between the former couple and allowing them to rediscover their feelings for one another.
Samantha Weist focused her thoughts, willing the shimmering mist to dissipate. She watched with bated breath as the gossamer strands unraveled, drifting away to reveal Mark and Stacey once more.
This was a science class, after all. The experiment had to continue, she reminded herself, her gaze flicking between the reunited couple and Tabitha’s still form.
Samantha Weist watched with bated breath as the shimmering mist she had conjured refused to dissipate. Instead of fading away, the gossamer strands seemed to grow denser, swirling and pulsing with a newfound energy.
Her heart raced as she observed the transformation unfolding before her. The casual brushing of hands between Mark and Stacey quickly intensified, their fingers intertwining with a newfound urgency. Samantha’s eyes widened as the former couple leaned in, their lips meeting in a deep, passionate kiss.
“Yes,” Samantha breathed, a triumphant grin spreading across her face. Her little experiment had worked even better than she’d hoped. The mist had not only rekindled the connection between Mark and Stacey, but it had also amplified their emotions, pushing them into a full-blown romantic embrace.
Samantha’s gaze flicked towards Tabitha, gauging the other girl’s reaction. To her relief, Tabitha seemed just as transfixed by the scene unfolding before them, her eyes wide and her lips parted in a silent gasp.
“Don’t even think about ruining this for me,” Samantha murmured under her breath, her fingers twitching with the urge to summon the orb once more, to ensure Tabitha’s silence.
As Mark and Stacey continued to kiss, their bodies pressed close together, Samantha felt a surge of power coursing through her. She had done this, her magic had orchestrated this moment of intimacy, and she reveled in the sense of control it gave her.
“That’s right, get lost in each other,” she whispered, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. “Forget about everything else and just give in to the moment.”
The mist seemed to pulse in response to her words, swirling and thickening around the embracing couple, as if to shield them from the outside world. Samantha watched, transfixed, as Mark and Stacey’s kiss deepened, their hands exploring each other with a newfound urgency.
Tabitha shifted in her seat, her gaze darting between Samantha and the passionate display unfolding before them. Samantha felt a surge of triumph, knowing that the other girl was powerless to interrupt her little experiment.
“Go on, Tabitha,” Samantha murmured, her lips curving into a sly grin. “Try to say something. I dare you.”
Samantha watched, transfixed, as the shimmering mist she had conjured enveloped Mark and Stacey, amplifying their reconnection. Their passionate embrace seemed to draw the attention of others in the class, and even Samantha felt a flush of warmth spread through her as she observed the scene unfolding.
So far, things were contained, but Samantha could sense the growing power of the mist, the way it seemed to pulse and thicken with each passing moment. She knew she needed to tread carefully, to maintain control over the situation before it spiraled out of her grasp.
But it was Tabitha, seated directly behind the targeted couple, who found herself caught in the thrall of the mist. Samantha’s gaze narrowed as she watched the other girl, her heart pounding with a mix of apprehension and a twisted sense of anticipation.
Tabitha’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat as the mist seemed to caress her, too. Samantha felt a surge of power coursing through her, a heady rush of control as she realized that her magic had now enveloped a third person.
The classroom faded away, Samantha’s entire focus narrowing to the trio before her. Mark and Stacey were lost in their embrace, their hands roaming and caressing as the mist swirled around them. And Tabitha, trapped between the couple, found herself drawn into the sensual haze, her body tensing and then relaxing as the mist’s influence took hold.
Samantha leaned forward, her eyes glittering with a dangerous intensity. She could feel the power thrumming through her veins, the intoxicating sense of control that came with wielding such potent magic. And as she watched Tabitha succumb to the mist’s allure, a wicked smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
“That’s right, Tabitha,” Samantha whispered, her voice barely audible above the sounds of the classroom. “Enjoy the show. You’re part of it now, whether you like it or not.”
The mist seemed to pulse in response to her words, swirling and thickening around the trio, as if to shield them from the outside world. Samantha felt a surge of triumph, knowing that she held the power to orchestrate this entire scenario, to manipulate the emotions and desires of those around her.
But even as she reveled in her newfound abilities, a small part of Samantha’s mind whispered a warning. This was dangerous territory she was treading, a game of power and control that could quickly spiral out of her grasp. She needed to be careful, to maintain a tight rein on her magic, lest it consume her entirely.
Still, in this moment, Samantha couldn’t resist the allure of her own creation. The mist, the passion, the sense of control - it was all intoxicating, and she found herself drawn deeper into the web of her own making, her eyes gleaming with a predatory intensity as she watched the scene unfold.
Samantha’s thoughts raced as she desperately tried to regain control of the situation. The mist had taken on a life of its own, swirling and pulsing with a power that threatened to spiral out of her grasp.
Gritting her teeth, she focused all her energy on halting the rain that had begun to sprinkle down from the ceiling. She pictured the cloud dissipating, collapsing back into a concentrated ball of energy.
Suddenly, the sprinkler system twitched on and off, spraying the room with a fine mist. Samantha felt the power of the spell weakening, the room cooling as her control reasserted itself.
Relief flooded through her as the magical storm she had unwittingly unleashed began to subside. The mist faded, and the classroom returned to a semblance of normalcy, the only remnants of the earlier chaos being the damp surfaces and the stunned expressions on her classmates’ faces.
Samantha risked a glance at Tabitha, her heart still pounding. The other girl’s eyes were wide, her mouth slightly agape, but Samantha couldn’t discern the nature of her reaction. Had Tabitha truly been caught in the thrall of the mist, or had she merely witnessed the display from afar?
Samantha Weist’s heart pounded as she watched Tabitha Kearn step back, her face etched with a mortified expression. The normally aloof girl seemed shaken, her usual cool demeanor cracking under the weight of what had just occurred.
Tabitha knows, Samantha realized, her stomach twisting with a mix of dread and apprehension. The other girl had witnessed the power of her magic, the way the shimmering mist had enveloped Mark, Stacey, and even Tabitha herself.
Samantha held her breath, her eyes fixed on Tabitha, waiting for the other girl’s reaction. She knew that Tabitha prided herself on being an island unto herself, someone who kept others at a safe distance. And now, she had been drawn into the very heart of Samantha’s magical machinations.
Suddenly, Tabitha’s expression shifted, her eyes narrowing into a glare that sent a chill down Samantha’s spine. She knows. She knows what I did, what I am.
Samantha felt her pulse quicken as Tabitha composed herself, the initial shock and vulnerability giving way to a deep, simmering hatred. The other girl never took her eyes off Samantha as she turned and left the room, the door closing behind her with a resounding click.
Samantha remained rooted to the spot, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. Had Tabitha truly grasped the full extent of her abilities? And if so, what would the other girl do with that knowledge?
The classroom had fallen silent, the remnants of the mist’s power still lingering in the air. Samantha could feel the weight of her classmates’ stares, their expressions a mix of bewilderment and unease.
The bell rang, jolting Samantha out of her stunned reverie. As her classmates began to gather their belongings and shuffle towards the door, her gaze was drawn back to Mark and Stacey, who remained locked in a tight embrace.
Samantha watched, her heart still pounding, as the couple slowly disentangled themselves, their faces flushed with a mix of embarrassment and lingering desire. Mark’s hand slid down Stacey’s arm, their fingers intertwining for a moment before reluctantly parting ways.
Samantha felt a pang of envy as she observed their tender connection, a connection that she had orchestrated through the power of her magic. But the triumph she had felt earlier had given way to a growing sense of unease, the weight of her actions bearing down on her.
As the last of her classmates filed out of the room, Samantha slowly made her way towards the door, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. She needed to find Erin, to confide in her best friend about the terrifying power she had just wielded.
But even as she stepped into the crowded hallway, Samantha couldn’t shake the lingering sense of unease. The mist, the heightened emotions, the way it had all seemed to spiral out of her control – it was a sobering reminder of the dangerous path she had embarked upon.
Samantha’s grip tightened on the strap of her backpack as she navigated the bustling corridors, her eyes scanning the sea of faces for a familiar head of dark hair. She needed to talk to Erin, to seek her counsel and guidance, to find a way to navigate this treacherous new reality.
But as she wove through the throngs of students, Samantha couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she was being watched. She couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder, half-expecting to see Tabitha’s piercing gaze boring into her back.
The hallway seemed to close in around her, the sounds of laughter and chatter suddenly muffled, as if the world had narrowed to a single, pressing concern – the looming threat of Tabitha’s discovery.
Samantha’s heart raced as she finally spotted Erin, her best friend’s familiar face a beacon of comfort in the chaos. Without a moment’s hesitation, she quickened her pace, desperate to reach her and unburden herself of the weight she now carried.
Whenever Tabitha is on her balcony, there’s a turmoil in her mind as she thinks about her past and the amusement park below. She watches a familiar duo, Samantha Weist and Erin Warren, and feels resentment, thinking of them as carefree and oblivious to the darkness around them. She’s conflicted, contemplating whether to confront them or just observe and wait for the right moment. Later, back in her apartment, she encounters an unknown man’s voice that offers her a powerful talisman, the Darkling, to aid her in taking down Samantha and Erin. The voice charges her with imagining her mind flowing through the Darkling and allowing it to be her wings and servant. Tabitha accepts the talisman and is left alone to ponder its lifelike qualities and the mysterious voice’s intentions.
Tabitha Kearn’s furrowed brow was the only outward sign of her inner turmoil as she gazed out the window of her small apartment. The old amusement park below, with its rusting rides and overgrown grounds, was a constant reminder of the life she’d fought so hard to escape.
Growing up, that place had been her only sanctuary, a place where she could lose herself in the whimsical sights and sounds, if only for a little while. Now, it served as a beacon, drawing her gaze and stirring up memories she’d rather leave buried.
Tabitha’s lips pressed into a thin line as she turned away, her eyes snagging on the framed photograph on her dresser. It was a picture of her parents, frozen in time before the drugs and the neglect had consumed them. They had been her world once, before she’d realized they would never be the parents she needed.
With a sigh, Tabitha ran a hand through her raven hair, steeling her resolve. She was better than them, stronger. She had clawed her way out of that life and forged her own path, answering to no one. Her fingers traced the edge of the frame, a pang of regret and longing tugging at her heart.
A sudden movement outside caught her eye, and Tabitha’s gaze snapped back to the window. There, in the shadows of the abandoned park, she spotted two familiar figures - Samantha Weist and her friend Erin. Tabitha’s jaw tightened, her fingers curling into fists. Of course they would be there, drawn to the allure of the forbidden, like moths to a flame. A nice quiet place to practice. I’ve been watching you bitches for weeks. No big brother this time.
Tabitha’s mind raced, weighing her options. Should she confront them, assert her dominance over this territory she had claimed as her own? Or should she simply observe, wait for the right moment to strike? The decision was a delicate one, fraught with the potential for both opportunity and peril.
Tabitha Kearn sat on her balcony in the waning twilight, letting her feet dangle through the bars as she sucked on a cigarette. Today was not a good day. She scowled, the ember at the end of her cigarette flaring as she took a long drag.
That fucking witch Sam playing matchmaker with the pretty people like they were dolls to toy with on a rainy day. Tabitha’s eyes narrowed, watching the two girls below as they wandered through the abandoned amusement park. It made her sick to her stomach, seeing them so carefree, so blissfully unaware of the darkness that lurked in the shadows.
Tabitha took another drag, the smoke curling from her lips as she exhaled slowly. Sam and her little friend, they thought they were so special, so powerful. But Tabitha knew the truth. Her grip tightened on the railing, the metal biting into her skin. They were nothing, just pawns in a game they couldn’t hope to understand.
And Tabitha? She laughed, a harsh, mirthless sound. Tabitha was the one who pulled the strings, the one who held all the cards. Her eyes gleamed with a predatory light as she watched the two girls below, their laughter and chatter drifting up to her on the breeze.
It was only a matter of time before they realized just how outmatched they were. Tabitha crushed the cigarette out in the ashtray beside her, a slow smile spreading across her face. And when they did, she would be there, waiting to show them the true meaning of power.
Screwing with the pretty people was in her wheelhouse too. Tabitha chuckled to herself, taking a long drag from her cigarette. But the problem was Sam was also one of them. That’s what made it all the more delicious. The girl had power, sure, but she was still just a naive little pawn, blissfully unaware of the true forces at work.
Tabitha’s gaze narrowed as she watched Sam and Erin disappear into the shadows of the park. Oh, they had no idea what they were getting themselves into.
Slowly, Tabitha rose from her perch, her eyes glinting with a predatory gleam. Time to remind the little witch just who was in charge around here. With a flick of her wrist, Tabitha conjured a swirling orb of energy, the air crackling with the power of her magic.
She creeped to the edge of the balcony, her steps sure and measured, the orb pulsing in her palm. Sam may have her little tricks, but Tabitha had honed her skills over the years, mastering the arcane arts in ways the girl could only dream of. This was her domain, her territory, and she would be damned if she let some upstart witch waltz in and disrupt the natural order.
Tabitha’s grip tightened on the pulsing orb of energy as she scanned the murky depths of the park. The air crackled with power, and her eyes narrowed, searching for any sign of the dynamic duo.
How dare that little witch play with people’s emotions like they were toys! Tabitha fumed inwardly. If she had that kind of power, she would use it to further her own agenda, not indulge in such petty games.
A flash of movement caught her eye, and Tabitha whirled to face it, the orb in her hand flaring to life. There, deep in the shadows, she spotted the familiar figures of Sam and Erin, their laughter drifting through the eerie silence.
Tabitha raised her hand, the orb of energy pulsing in her palm. “It’s time you learned a lesson, Samantha Weist.” Her voice was low and menacing, the air crackling with the power of her magic.
“Do you really mean that, Tabitha?” asked a voice from the gathering dark behind her. “Do you really believe you can wield Samantha’s powers better?”
Tabitha smiled as her orb gloweedd and sputtered dark like the embers of her crushed smoke. “You again. She turned and peered into her dim of her oh so depressing hovel. “Who the fuck are you?”
The voice answered back. “A friend.”
“What kind of friend talks from the shadows.”
“One who knows his enemies well.”
Tabitha felt strangely comfortable talking to this voice, an older voice, a man’s voice. “What do you know of the witchy ways of Samantha Weist?”
“Much,” he said. “Of both the witch and her puppy Erin Warren.” The man let a pause fill the space. “How would you like to take them down a peg or two? Make them pay for being perfect little bitches?”
The man speaks my language. No doubt for my benefit. “What do you have in mind, old man?”
“Wear this about your neck,” he said and a necklace appeared on Tabitha’s neck. It was heavy with a large black onyx pendant fashioned in the shape of a raven.
It felt cold and smooth, except for the carved lines of the feathers. Barely noticeable was a slight pulse as if the bird itself had a real heart. “It’s beautiful,” she said.
“And very much alive,” said the voice softly. “Would you like to know how to tame it?”
“Yes,” she said.
“The talisman will teach you. Its name is the Darkling. You only have to think through it. Imagine your mind flowing through the Darkling. Let it be your wings and your servant.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Tabitha let the Darkling talisman drop to her chest and it nestled above her heart, its beat matching her own. “Nothing is free, old man. What is your price?”
“You are a shrewd observer, Tabitha,” said the voice. “We desire the same things.”
And like that, the voice and its owner were gone. Tabitha was left alone on her balcony. She watched the moon rise as she considered her gift.
Samantha Weist and Erin explore the library, searching for books on meditation and mental acuity training after an unsettling incident in bio lab. Erin reminds Sam that their classmates Mark and Stacey’s relationship could have happened naturally. Sam then avoids explaining a situation involving Tabitha. Sam chooses two books and plans to visit the psych section to find information on mind enchantments and therapies. Erin humorously warns Sam that their goal is to harness the mind, not heal it.
Erin and Sam knew the library well and often stopped there after school. Today was one of those days. They were on a mission: find books on meditation and mental acuity training.
Sam had shared with Erin the incident in Bio lab and it freaked both of them out. “You have to promise not to tell Dorian,” insisted Sam as they turned into the non-fiction stacks.
Erin found the collection and started thumbing through the titles. “He’s going to find out eventually. You weren’t exactly discrete.”
“At least Mark and Stacey are better for it.”
“Are they?” asked Erin. “Free will and all that jazz, Sam.”
“They still had feelings for each other or else the spell wouldn’t have done its work. They may have gotten back together anyway.”
“Explain the Tabitha thing, then.”
“I can’t or at least I don’t want to.” Sam pulled a couple titles. “These look good.”
Erin looked and nodded. It was hard to separate the good from the bad, but the meat was here. “Tabitha’s got your number now, that much is sure.”
“I’m going to head over to the psych section and see if I can find something to help figure out some of the mind stuff in the Grimoire,” said Sam. “There might also be some clinical therapies there.”
Erin laughed. “Just remember you’re trying to harness not heal yourself, Sam.”
In the library, Samantha grabs psychology publications and sits at a table. Tabitha confronts her about an incident in biology and pins her against the wall. Sam tries to defend herself but holds back. Erin arrives and reveals Dorian needs Sam’s help. Tabitha leaves after confronting Erin, who tries to defend Sam. Erin throws punches but Tabitha overpowers her, slamming her into a wall. Tabitha accuses Erin of attempting to interfere with her and leaves.
The psychology texts and magazines were in the far corner. Sam grabbed a stack of journals and sat at a steel table at the end of the aisle to go through them.
A shadow fell over her reading surface and Sam looked up to see Tabitha, hands on the table, glaring at her. Sam tried to stand up, but Tabitha pushed the table towards the wall, pinning Sam in place.
“That was a fine trick you pulled in Bio yesterday, Sammy.”
“I— I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Sam.
“Sure you do. Did it get you all warm and fuzzy too? You looked a little flushed. Kinda like you do now. What does that say about you and your little friend over there?”
Sam wanted to lash out, to defend herself, but she held back. She couldn’t control things in the lab. What if she couldn’t here? Her phone buzzed tinily on the table. It was Dorian. She let it ring. “I’m sorry, Tabitha. I didn’t mean…”
The phone stopped.
“It doesn’t matter if you’re sorry or not, witch. Could care less. We’re never going to be friends. Don’t make me an enemy.”
Erin rounded the corner, holding her own phone. “Sam, Dor’s trying to call—” She stopped. What’s going on here.
Tabitha stood up, pulled the table back and turned around. “Your girlfriend and I were just having a little chat. Figured you wouldn’t be far.”
“Dorian needs you to pick up some stuff for your dad on the way home,” said Erin to Sam. “He texted you the list.”
Sam grabbed her phone and the journals and steered wide of Tabitha before handing the magazines to Erin. “Can you check these out for me?”
“Sure,” said Erin, not taking her eyes off Tabitha. “Dorian’s meeting me for coffee in a bit. We’ll catch up this evening.”
“You good here,” asked Sam.
“Yup. Don’t worry about me.”
Sam left and it was only Tabitha and Erin in the quiet aisle.
“Pretty ballsy,” said Tabitha. “You sure you want to do this?”
Erin squared herself and threw a punch. “You leave her alone.”
Tabitha took the punch, figuring it’d hurt the smaller woman more. When Erin swung again, Tabitha grabbed her arm and tossed her into the catalogs, dragging her down the length of it and slammed her face-first into the cinder block wall. Tabitha leaned her forearm against Erin’s neck and grasped the talisman with her free hand. It felt cold then hot then cold.
“No one fucks with me. Not her and certainly not you.”
At that, Tabitha left the library.
Samantha walks home from the store as the sun shines brightly. She’s aware that her father is leaving on a business trip, and she must deal with the fact that she’s a witch. Though she initially wanted to embrace her birthright, she now fears the magical power consuming her thoughts. Unable to concentrate or maintain friendships, she questions whether she should experiment with magic. A storm rages as she ponders these thoughts, prompting her to acknowledge the darkness within herself. She sprints home, fearful of what she might become if she’s not careful.
The sun shone brightly and Sam took her time walking home from the store. The list was small. Her dad was on his way out of town on a business trip. If he knew what was going on, he’d not leave. Sam felt the need to get a handle on this herself.
Once she found out she was a witch, Sam was of two minds. Was her father right to keep the truth from her? To protect both her and Dorian from magic? Or was Dorian right and their birthright unavoidable and something to be embraced not feared.
If you asked her last week, Sam was on Team Embrace. This week? Fear.
A slight breeze stirred up some gutter dust. She looked up at a cloud bank creeping in and picked up her pace.
Sam didn’t have control of this thing. She had to be on constant guard. The magic kept coming to the surface and dominated her thoughts. She couldn’t concentrate on school and her social life had all but evaporated. If it wasn’t for Erin and Dorian’s cutesy romance, Sam would have no entertainment at all.
The sky had darkened and fat raindrops spit from the sky, splattering the dusty concrete, making little craters.
And then there was the incident in class. What compelled her to dabble like that? It was dangerous. Was Erin right? Probably. Messing with people and free will seemed too much. A power over people like that wasn’t Council sanctioned. Did they know? What else could she do?
The wind picked up and Sam wished she’d worn a coat. The rain was steady and cold.
With Tabitha today, she froze. Being pinned to the wall by the table was only part of it. Sam could have broken free. Easily. She could have rendered Tabitha into a spec of dust but the thought of going there frighted her.
Sam jumped as a sudden flash of lightening lit the clouds and the crack of thunder boomed. Someone’s car alarm went off.
To be true to herself, Sam had to acknowledge a little darkness in herself. She was a good person and fought hard to be that way.
If Erin hadn’t been there, would she have retaliated?
Rain bounced high off the street and rivers raced in every direction as the wind swept in sheets. Sam sprinted for home.
Erin, wet from the rain, meets Dorian at a cafe. Dorian warms her up and they discuss Sam, who has been exhibiting strange behavior. Both believe she may possess magical abilities, and Dorian reveals that an elemental, Tabitha, has been involved. Erin shares her concerns, but Dorian assures her that Sam will need her support regardless of any emerging powers. Before leaving, Dorian reassures Erin that they will find time for themselves later. Erin sips her coffee and hopes things will work out for the best.
Erin flipped the hood of the sweater up over her head and walked out into the rain. She balled her fists and stuffed them into the hoodie’s pockets. The scrapes and bruises on her hands still hurt.
It only took ten minutes to walk from the library to Tomasino’s, but by the time Erin made it under the awning, she was soaked. He’d better be here on time. I’m freezing.
Tucking her thumbs into her cuffs, Erin wrapped her tiny fingers around the cup and ignored the sting. The heat felt too good. Her hair dripped and she shivered in waves.
The door jingled its chime as Dorian entered and looked around the cafe. He saw Erin’s soggy condition and smirked as he strode to her table. She hated that expression and he knew it.
“It’s about time you showed up,” she said.
He bowed and sat down. “A thousand pardons, milady. You don’t have to be wet, you know.”
No sooner spoken then it was true, Erin’s chill eased. “Thanks,” she said and glared at Dorian. “You shouldn’t have done that in public. I would’ve dried eventually.”
“Sure. Sometime after hypothermia set in. You’ve always been too proud, Erin.”
“She fidgeted with her sweater and stared at her coffee, hopeful for answers. “How’s Sam?”
Dorian leaned forward and clenched his teeth. “She’s fine, no thanks to you. Dammit! You should have warned us about her.”
Erin snapped her head up, eyes sharp and furious. “There was no sign, Dor.”
“Nothing?” He reached out for her hands.
Out of reflex, she tucked them under the table. I can’t let him touch me. “Well, she did zone out at lunch again, but that’s kinda normal for her these days.”
“Today wasn’t normal.” Dorian sat back, framing the space between them.
Erin looked outside at the heavy rain, despite a forecast of clear skies. “I guess not. What are you going to do, Dorian?”
“What do you think?” he asked, stopped himself and bit his lower lip. “It’s too soon. She’s not ready.”
Tears welled in Erin’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Dor…”
Dorian interrupted. “It’s not your fault. We were just caught unprepared.”
“You said it would happen like this.”
“I say a lot of things. Doesn’t make them true.”
Erin uncovered her hands and laid them flat on the table. “Speaking of predictability…”
He looked at her battered hands and resisted reaching out to touch them, to touch her. “Tabitha?”
“Yeah. We got into it after Sam left.” Erin hid her hands in her sleeves again.
“His hands gripped the side of the table. “Damn it. How much has she figured out?”
“Way more than we’d like.” Erin’s coffee boiled in front of her “Careful, Dor.”
The cup quieted. “Any sign of magic from her?”
“Not yet. She’s in the wind now. Don’t be angry with me.”
Dorian broke into a wide grin that she remembered from the day before. “Relax, Erin. You’re a great friend.”
Erin stirred her undrinkable coffee, pushed it to the center of the table and slouched in her chair. “Not so much today. She’ll be coming back.”
He grabbed the cup, took a slug and winked. “If it wasn’t Tabitha, it’d be someone else coming regardless. Sam’s emergence won’t be a secret for long. She’s too strong.”
“But will she be strong enough?”
He let her question hang and shook instead. “Look, I gotta run. Drop over later. Sam will need her friend.”
Erin nodded. “What about you and me?”
“We’ll get time for us.”
Dorian bent over and kissed her forehead. He left before she could protest. Erin wrapped her hands around the coffee again and brought it to her lips. She smiled as the sunlight hit her face. Maybe things would be okay.
Samantha Weist sits under the stars with siblings Dorian and Erin. Dorian leaves to find beers, and Erin encourages Sam to move closer to the fire. Sam reveals her fear that she might lose control like their sister, Tabitha. Suddenly, Erin’s behavior changes drastically, and she begins to choke Sam. Dorian returns in time to see Erin in a trance-like state but is unable to wake her. He suggests Merle from the Council might be able to help. Sam is tasked with keeping watch over Erin while Dorian goes to find him. The situation is uncertain, and Sam thinks about cleaning Erin’s wounds while wondering if Erin will wake up. (50 words)
Sam, Dorian and Erin sat under the stars in the Weist backyard around the firepit. The glow and flicker of the flames lit their faces, the reflection of spark and starlight flecking their eyes.
Dorian emptied his beer in a final tug and reached into the cooler to grab another one. “Erin? Sis?”
“Sure,” said Erin and took the bottle from Dorian, sending him fishing for its mate, coming up empty.
“No thanks,” said Sam. “I’m not really in the mood.” She curled up in the chair under a blanket and shivered despite the fire.
Dorian stood. “I’m going in to raid Dad’s stash. Serves him right for leaving teenagers home alone.”
Erin giggled as he left. She regarded Sam thoughtfully. “You can bring your chair closer, you know,” she said. “No sense suffering.”
Sam didn’t move. “It’s just been a shitty day, that’s all. You okay?”
“Yeah. A couple scrapes. No big.” Erin held out her hands and twisted them back and forth, fingers splayed.
A moment passed. “Thank you,” said Sam.
“For what?” asked Erin as she leaned forward and poked the fire with her stick. Sparks danced skyward.
Sam stared at the center of the flame. “Just being there. I’m afraid.”
“Of Tabitha?”
“No,” said Sam quietly. “Of me.”
Erin cocked her head. “Well, we’re going to have to be more careful.”
“I have to me more careful.”
A cool breeze stirred the flame higher and both girls shivered. Erin stood and stretched her arms above her head. She walked behind Sam and massaged her shoulders.
“It’ll be okay,” she said.
“That feels nice,” said Sam and leaned her head forward in response to Erin’s hands.
She focused on the tension leaving her body and thought about how to make things right. Could she smooth things over with Tabitha? Not likely, but maybe she didn’t have to fan the flames so much.
The once gentle fingers tightened around Sam’s neck and base of her skull began to hurt.
“Erin, what are you doing? Stop.”
The hands tightened their grip and Sam struggled to breathe. She tried to speak, but only spittle would come from her lips. She’d been sitting cross-legged in the chair and had no real leverage to move. Sam clawed at Erin’s fingers but they wouldn’t budge. She kept ringing her hands tighter and tighter, squeezing the life from her friend.
Dorian emerged from the house and dropped his score. “Erin. What the Hell are you doing?” He ran to where Erin stood behind Sam’s chair. Erin’s eyes had rolled up inside her head and only the white showed. The rest of her face was calm, but her naturally strong arms flexed sweaty with the exertion. Dorian worked to pry Erin’s hands away from his sister’s throat but her nails had dug in, gouging deep. Sam flailed her arms and managed to free one of her legs but Erin held her fast.
Dorian managed to free one arm and Erin collapsed to the ground, releasing Sam completely.
“Are you okay?” asked Dorian as he lifted Sam’s hair and checked her neck. The cuts were deep and would need to be cleaned.
Sam’s voice was hoarse and painful to hear. “I’m fine… mostly,” she said. “Where’s Erin?”
“She’s right here.” Dorian picked up Erin’s limp body and carried it towards the house.
Sam followed, coughing and woozy from the attack. She moved slowly and when she made it to the living room, Dorian had Erin spread out on the couch.
“Is she—?” Sam asked.
Dorian shook his head. “I don’t know. She’s breathing but I can’t wake her up. It’s like she’s unconscious. Coma like.”
“We gotta call an ambulance, Dor.” Sam grabbed the phone.
“Wait,” he said and held up his hand. “I don’t think that’s what’s going on here. She looked strange when she was attacking you. Possessed and in a trance.”
She put down the phone.“You think this is magic? Tabitha?”
“Perhaps. I gotta get Merle and see if he can help.”
“Merle? From the Council? He’s in town. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Not now, Sam,” said Dorian. “You keep watch over Erin. Don’t turn your back on her. We don’t know who she’ll be when she wakes up.”
“If she wakes up.”
“Let’s not think of that.” Dorian left and Sam grabbed a damp cloth to clean Erin up as she thought about what to do.
Sam discovered bruises from Erin’s assault and tried to heal her, but the magic failed. Realizing she had some of her own, Sam sought help from Tabitha. However, when Sam confronted Tabitha about Erin’s condition, Tabitha attacked her. In a rage, Sam used magic to hit Tabitha, but the talisman saved her. Sam tried to take the pendant, but it fought back, knocking her down. Tabitha disappeared, leaving Sam to heal Erin.
Sam looked at herself in the mirror and examined her injuries. The bruises were already blossoming and she could make out Erin’s hand-prints. Tears welled in her eyes but she willed them away. Sam closed her eyes and focused on the bruises and cuts, pictured the flesh knitting itself back together, pictured the capillaries whole and the blood flowing through, healing her. When Sam opened her eyes, she was astounded.
Back at the couch, Sam tried to do the same for Erin. She placed her hands on Erin’s cheeks and visualized her best friend’s smile and all the good in her. Nothing. Erin remained trapped between the living and the dead. This was certainly magic’s work.
If Tabitha could see her magic, then she must have some of her own. There was no other explanation. Sam cast her thoughts out, outside the house and high above, seeking. There you are.
Sam left two notes. One for Erin should she wake up and one for Dorian should she not. Her neck ached but Sam couldn’t just sit around and wait for Dorian like a little girl. These were real problems and it was high time that she owned them.
She ran through the amusement park to the apartment complex where Tabitha lived. Sam stood under her balcony.
“Tabitha,” she called up.
“Behind you,” said Tabitha and when Sam turned her head, it met with a fist. “I really gotta move. I don’t like so many people knowing my 411.”
Sam fell backwards on her hands with the unexpected blow. “What did you do to Erin?” she demanded.
“Is there something wrong with your little sidekick?” taunted Tabitha.
Sam had had more than enough. She stood, dusted her pants off and held her hands slightly apart. Like the pink ball, she focused her mind on building a hollow ball, but this time she poured her rage into it. As it filled up in the blink of an eye, it swirled a darkening green.
The ball flew from her hands and struck Tabitha in the chest, sending her flying across the parking lot into a pickup truck and then to the ground. The talisman shielded her from the worst of it, but Tabitha was winded.
Sam walked towards her and Tabitha grasped the Darkling, but it was silent. No pulse, no heat. Nothing.
A raging tempest, Sam stood over Tabitha and spread her hands apart to form another ball but she stopped. That pendant. I know this shape. She reached for it, but the Darkling inside pushed back. This time it was Sam sent flying through the air. When she gathered her senses, Tabitha was gone.
Sam returned home to tend to Erin.
Tabitha gazes at the moon as she smokes, contemplating if pursuing Erin instead of Sam was the right choice. When Sam confronts her, she becomes confident in her decision, as it disrupts the Duo’s dynamic. She jumps onto a Ferris wheel arm and, after a slip, settles into the seat. Addressing her talisman, Tabitha recalls the evening’s events as the Darkling responds, commending their teamwork. She wishes to absorb Samantha’s power but doubts her ability, as she’s not a witch. The Darkling explains that she can draw Samantha’s power through him and suggests causing Dorian’s faith to waver, making him an instrument to wield. Tabitha heeds the Darkling’s advice, eager for further instructions.
Tabitha watched the smoke from her cigarette wind its way moonward. Things didn’t go quite as planned, or did they? Earlier, she wondered if going after Erin instead of Sam was the right call. But now that Sam had come after her, she was sure it was. The Dynamic Duo was off-kilter.
She snuffed her smoke and jumped down off the edge of rail. ‘You must be this tall to ride The Spider’ read the sign next to the heap of pipes, plastic and lights that made up the arms of the weird cup ride. Tabitha climbed the arm that hung in the air. She slipped once on the slick plastic but recovered quickly. With a grunt, she slipped into the seat, satisfied with the activity. She looked around and was treated with a fairly complete view of the park. Excellent.
Tabitha slipped the talisman from around her neck and held it a cupped hand, stroking the shape of the bird with her finger. The moonlight made it glisten as if wet and the carved lines shone as she moved it around.
“It’s been an interesting evening my darling Darkling,” she said to the pendant and laughed at the clever bit of poetic language. “What trouble we got into this evening.”
“Indeed it was and indeed we did, Tabitha,” said the Darkling cradled in her hands.
“We make a great team,” she said, softly touching the bird’s neck.
“Samantha’s power is strong,” it said and pulsed gently.
“No kidding.” Her chest still hurt.
The Darkling laughed quietly. “You could have that, you know. You deserve it.”
Tabitha’s frustration showed plainly. “But how? I’m not a witch. I can’t do what she does.”
“I can. You can through me.”
“I don’t understand,” said Tabitha and she felt lost, like she should be grasping a child’s concept.
The soothing voice of the Darkling was patient and wise, like a mentor, a teacher. “You can draw her power into me. All we need is for her to be alone.”
“That never seems to happen.”
“It did tonight.”
“True, but—”
The Darkling continued with its lesson. “You’ve already set the gears in motion, Tabitha. Some people need only the smallest of nudges.”
“Dorian,” said Tabitha and her own gears raced ahead, excited for the next revelation.
“Yes. Dorian. Break his faith and he’ll be our instrument to wield.”
Tabitha wiggled in her seat and got more comfortable. “Tell me what to do, dear Darkling.”
“Focus your thoughts on me and I’ll show you.”
Merle, a skilled competitor and Council member, runs his office close to the Weists. While Dorian rushes there in concern for Erin’s condition, he finds the place empty and clean. On Merle’s desk, Dorian discovers a dossier on Erin, revealing her role as Guardian for Samantha Weist, assigned a decade ago when their mother passed away. Merle confirms that neither Samantha nor Dorian know about Erin’s position. Merle explains that only remarkable individuals need Guardians, and Samantha is the first in a long time. He calls Dorian a “good soldier” and tells him to follow orders and fight, implying that is his expected role. Dorian leaves, feeling disheartened and frustrated.
Merle kept an office across town. He didn’t have to. The Council gave him the latitude to set up shop anywhere in the world, but he chose here. Why? To be closer to Weists.
“Hello?” Dorian arrived in a panic over Erin’s state, but the office and quarters were empty. They were also immaculate. Merle’s fastidiousness was legendary. Dorian himself only visited this office a handful of times, his training taking place up north.
On Merle’s desk lay a single dossier folder and Dorian flipped the cover open idly. The name on the cover and the accompanying picture were unmistakable. Erin Warren. Under ‘title’, was a single word: Guardian. ‘Assignment’: Samantha Weist. It was dated ten years ago, the year their mother died.
Dorian sat in the desk chair and read through the detail. He didn’t hear the door open.
“Where did you get that, Dorian?” asked Merle. “The cabinets are locked.”
“This was on your desk… sir.” Dorian’s anger was barely contained as he rose.
Merle hung his coat calmly. “Have you read it all?”
Dorian crossed to the front of the desk and tossed the folder on it. “How could I not?”
Merle wandered over and picked it up, puzzled that it should be left out. “Do you have any questions?”
“Many,” said Dorian through gritted teeth.
The old man held his hands out at his shoulders like a preacher. “Fire away.”
Dorian nodded. “Does Dad know?”
Merle sat in his chair and watched the younger man clench and unclench his fists. “No. He’d never allow it.”
“Does Erin know?”
“No.”
Dorian shook his head and sat in the chair opposite. “How can that be?”
“I made her that way,” said Merle as he set the folder down and laid his palm on it lovingly.
Dorian suddenly felt small and unimportant. “Do I have a Guardian?”
“Only the remarkable need a Guardian. Samantha has been the first in a very long time.”
“What am I then?”
Merle gestured like a seasoned politician. “A good soldier.”
“What am I supposed to do?” asked Dorian, eyes blazing.
Merle leaned forward and met Dorian’s gaze. “What all good soldiers do. Follow orders and fight.”
“What if I don’t want to follow yours?”
“You’ll follow someone else. That is your nature.”
Dorian rose. “I need to go.”
“Yes, you do,” said Merle and watched him leave.
Sam rushes home as the pain in her side intensifies. Recognizing a talisman on Tabitha’s necklace, she retrieves her mother’s demonology text. Erin appears wasting away, and Sam carries her to the bathroom. Summoning her life force, Sam enters Erin’s body and heals her, causing both girls to scream. They return to the living room, where Erin dons Sam’s sweats and they discuss the events. Sam struggles to process how Erin, deemed dead, is now alive and well. They decide on tea instead of alcohol.
Sam raced home as fast as she could, the stitch in her side threatening to make her lungs explode. If she was right, Erin didn’t have much time. She recognized the shape of the talisman on Tabitha’s necklace. She’d seen it in one of her mother’s demonology texts and Sam ran to her bedroom to retrieve it and find the entry. There. She knew just what to do.
Erin remained on the couch right where she’d left her, but the blanket she’d covered her with resembled a shroud. Sam peeled it back and her worst fears were confirmed. Erin was wasting away.
The skin on Erin’s face was tight and brittle like old leather, her arms already dessicated and skeletal. Sam placed her ear to Erin’s chest heard the shallowest of breath. There might be still time.
Sam picked her friend up and carefully brought her upstairs to the bathroom. She ran a lukewarm tub and carefully undressed Erin so as not to lose any of the remaining flesh. Sam placed her in the tub. Erin seemed so small in the water.
Tears streamed down her cheeks unheeded as Sam lay her hands on Erin’s chest, closed her eyes and focused again. This time, Sam cast her thoughts more abstractly. She summoned her own life force, everything she was, is and going to be. Sam drew everything there was about her to the head of a pin and forced it down her arms into her hands. Sam became energy and her body but a shell. She felt herself enter Erin and spread throughout. The water was cooling and Erin’s skin was her own. The pain of healing seared deep in her mind, but there was no place for it express itself. Both girls screamed and suddenly Sam was back in her own body unable to breathe, the wind knocked out of her. She passed out.
“Sam.” A voice. Familiar. “Sam, wake up.”
She opened her eyes and Erin’s smiling face greeted her. “Erin,” she said hoarsely.
“I think you saved me, Sam.” Erin wore a set of her friend’s sweats. They didn’t fit her.
Erin helped Sam to her feet and guided her back downstairs to the living room. The blanket shroud lay folded on the couch and Sam sat as far away from it as she could.
“Are you okay, Erin?”
“I am now. What happened? One minute I’m rubbing your shoulders and the next, I’m naked in a bathtub.”
Sam’s head swam with fatigue and spent adrenaline. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.” Erin sat beside her.
Sam reached out tentatively to touch Erin’s face. How is this possible? You were dead and now you’re not. “I think I may need a drink first.”
Erin took Sam’s hand in both of hers and squeezed. “Bad idea, I think. Let’s go with tea.”
Sam nodded and Erin rose to put the kettle on.
In the kitchen, Sam and Erin have tea with Dorian under mysterious circumstances. Dorian accuses Sam of being under Merle’s control and questions Erin’s reality. As memories flood Erin, she admits she is not real. Confused, Sam and Erin turn to Dorian for help, but he leaves instead.
“Sam!” Dorian arrived home and the living room was empty.
“In the kitchen,” called out Sam. “It’s three in the morning and we’re having tea.”
He entered the kitchen and could not believe his eyes. The girls were up and seemingly chipper. When he left, one was comatose after brutally attacking the other.
“Sam. Your neck…”
“All better. See?” She tilted her neck to reveal its pristine perfection.
“Hi, Dor,” said Erin, both her hands wrapped around the tea cup, a quirky and familiar pose. She put it down and went to hug him.
Dorian batted her hand away. “Don’t,” he said. “Just don’t.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Erin.
“I don’t even know what you are let alone who you are.”
Erin retreated to her chair as if slapped.
Sam interjected. “What are you talking about, Dor. At least wait until we fill you in.”
“How about I fill you in, Sis.” He paced about the room like a dog itching for a fight. “This creature here isn’t real. You were always friends but do you remember anything about her before Mom died?”
“No, of course not, but Dor. You’re being mean,” said Sam and reached for Erin’s hand. “You’re scaring us.”
“Merle. He has a file on Erin. He conjured her ten years ago as a watchdog, as some sort of Guardian. She’s always got your back. Didn’t you ever wonder why?”
Erin was crying. “Why are you saying such things? I thought you loved me.”
“I did, but how can I love something that is nothing more than a puppet, a tool to be used. Did Merle program you for me or only for Sam? I have no idea.”
“I don’t… can’t believe this,” said Sam. “You don’t understand. So much has happened tonight. Erin is as real as you and me.”
Dorian flopped in an empty chair and put his head in his hands. “I can’t either. But there it was. In black and white. All the facts laid bare.”
The three of them sat for a moment, the only noise being Erin’s soft sobbing.
Sam had an idea. “Erin, maybe we can cast some sort of reveal spell and sort this out. I’ll go get Mom’s book.”
Dorian wouldn’t make eye contact with Erin and the two of them just sat there waiting for Sam.
“Here it is,” said Sam as she came back with the Grimoire.
Erin spoke for the first time in quite a while. “You don’t have to bother, Sam.”
“What do you mean?” Sam closed the book, leaving her finger to mark the place.
“As soon as Dor started speaking, it was like a flood gate of memory opened. It’s all true. All of it. I’m not real.”
“But I felt you. I was you. I don’t understand. How can both things be true?”
“Because they’re not, Sam,” said Erin. “Dor… I don’t know. Help me.”
“No,” said Dorian and he bolted from the house.
Merle sits at his desk, questioning how a folder suddenly landed there. He wonders if Darkling magic is at play and if Tabitha is involved. With Erin now exposed, Merle’s plans are failing, and the fate of the children is uncertain. He decides to push forward with his Council-given mission: maintaining white magic’s lead. However, personal motives also drive him—protecting the children and exacting revenge on the Darkling.
Merle sat at his desk, considering current events. How did this folder, of all folders, get on his desk at this particular time? Was this Darkling magic? Tabitha wasn’t smart enough for this. Was the Darkling now in control? This didn’t bode well.
Erin was exposed. That much was certain at this point. With one corner of that triangle blown apart, it was unlikely the trio would be able to survive this.
The whole point was to protect them and his machinations were backfiring.
There was little else to do but press forward. His mission from the Council was clear: white magic had to stay ahead in the ‘win’ column. But on a more personal note, the children had to be protected and vengeance had to be exacted at any cost.
Destroying the Darkling when it emerged was all there was left.
Samantha and Erin sit at the table, the kitchen clock indicating the approaching dawn. Erin seems unfamiliar to herself. “Pancakes?” Sam asks, standing up. Neither speaks until they eat their breakfast in silence. Erin admits she doesn’t know if she’s Pinocchio or not, and Sam assures her she’s not. The Audrey Merle situation and the Council are new to Sam. Erin reveals she loves Sam and Dorian, and they reminisce about their sisterly bond. Erin switches the plates to the sink and admits she loves Dorian as well. Sam embraces her, listening to her heartbeat.
Sam and Erin sat at the table staring at each other. The kitchen clock hummed as it pushed towards dawn. Erin seemed a stranger to her. Erin was a stranger to herself.
“Pancakes?” asked Sam as she stood up. She had to busy herself. Erin sat and said nothing. Sam worked through the mechanics of breakfast and Erin set the table. Neither spoke until they sat in front of an overly prepared meal for six. Sam’s appetite was vicious but Erin simply stared at her empty plate.
Erin looked up at Sam. “I am not Pinocchio,” she said eventually, talking through the stack of pancakes between them.
“No,” said Sam. “You’re definitely not.”
“What am I? I remember my whole life. Or at least I think I do.”
Sam shrugged her shoulders and stuffed another mouthful. “You are my friend.”
“How can you be sure?” Erin picked up her fork and speared the stack.
“I can’t.”
The two girls sat and ate pancakes. Food has a strange way of restoring things, granting perspective.
Sam poured some milk, took a big gulp and swallowed. “This Merle guy. The Council. It’s all new to me. If what Dorian says is to be believed—”
Erin waved her fork and syrup dripped from its tip. She caught it with the tip of her finger. “It is. I feel it now. I always just looked up to you. Wanted to be near you. I couldn’t ever explain it before now.”
“It can’t really be about programming and following orders. You didn’t know.”
“That’s just it. I love you. We’ve always been like sisters.”
Sam nodded thoughtfully. “But what if Merle was controlling you and making you do things?”
“I don’t think it works that way. Am I a puppet? This is so confusing, Sam.”
“Even if you were a puppet, you’re not now. You see the strings. You can cut them.”
Erin picked up her plate and grabbed Sam’s as she walked them to the sink. She stood there and looked out the window. Birds sat on a telephone wire and against the orange dawn they looked black.
“I love Dorian,” she said quietly.
Sam came behind and wrapped her arms around Erin’s shoulders, laying her face against her back and listened to her heartbeat. “I know you do.”
Sam stokes the fire while Erin wraps herself in a blanket. Sam discusses Tabitha’s strong, demon-aided magic. The demon inside Tabitha’s talisman, Darkling, seeks escape and plans to steal Sam’s magic. Both girls understand the danger and the irony of Tabitha’s situation.
The morning air was still quite chill and Sam resurrected the fire from last night. Erin huddled in the blanket and nursed a coffee. Sam sat staring at the fire, elbows on her knees and her chin resting on her fists.
Both girls found warmth in their own way.
“So. Tabitha,” said Sam.
Erin nodded. “Tabitha.”
Sam laughed heartily. “That girl has some serious anger management issues.”
Erin giggles at the joke. It felt good to laugh. “She has a strong magic, but she’s not a witch.”
“No, but she’s working with one.” Sam grabbed her own coffee from between her legs and sipped.
Erin leaned forward and the blanket slid from her shoulders. “Oh? How do you figure?”
“Did you notice that pendant she was wearing?” asked Sam as she pointed to Erin’s neck.
“The one with the black bird on it.” Erin thought about the birds on the wire this morning.
Sam talked excitedly. “According to Mom’s books, that’s a talisman. Like a kind of prison for demons. Each demon has its own shape, like a family crest.”
Erin shook her head, catching up with Sam. “She wouldn’t have found that on her own.”
“No. They’re too dangerous. They’re supposed to be kept under lock and key.”
“And Tabitha is wearing it like some messed-up jewelry.” Erin sat back again.
“It’s worse. The demon inside is very much alive. It’s name is Darkling.”
Erin smirked. “So, Tabitha is the puppet.” The irony was not lost on either of them.
“It would appear so.” Sam drained the rest of her coffee and her cheeks flushed.
“What do you think the Darkling wants?” wondered Erin.
“What all prisoners do. To escape. And it’ll need to steal my magic to do so.”
Tabitha navigates a crowded room, feeling anonymous in a black dress. She senses Dorian and follows the Darkling’s lead. Approaching him, she sits beside him, flirtatiously challenging his reserved nature. He admits to wanting to be alone, and Tabitha proposes they be alone together. She reveals the Darkling’s presence and Dorian shows signs of betrayal before Tabitha assures him that she, too, isn’t real. Tabitha has Dorian touch the Darkling and commands him to call his sister. Dorian complies, fully under Tabitha’s control.
Tabitha worked her way through the crowded room. Hungry eyes crawled her body and she felt silly in this dress. No one recognized her. The Darkling said it had to be this way; to present herself as an option. An option to what? Dorian was here. She felt it. Rather, the Darkling felt it and she let it guide her.
Her mind slithered with the comfortable blackness of its thoughts. It reassured. It comforted. For once, Tabitha didn’t feel lonely.
Dorian.
He sat on the couch in the club and nursed a beer. Set apart and alone in a crowd. Tabitha knew how he felt. She relished in the anonymity.
She stirred the tiny straw in her soda water, then held it between her lips and sipped. The bubbles tingled the back of her throat.
Tabitha approached. “Anyone sitting here?” she asked of the sullen Dorian.
He shook his head and slid over, making room for the woman in the black dress. She perched on the edge and turned towards him. He stared at her for a moment then forced himself to look away.
“Why, aren’t we the brooding type,” she said playfully.
Dorian set his warm beer on the short table. “I guess, I’m not much for partying tonight.”
“Then why are you here?” She touched his hand and an arc of shadow passed over it.
“To be alone.” He eyes glazed with uncertainty as if suddenly he didn’t want to be.
“Do you want to be alone together?” Tabitha played with a tuft of hair behind his ear.
Dorian shivered. “That’s a little forward, don’t you think?”
“I’m in a strange mood,” she said and meant it. Tabitha reveled in this new role. It suited her.
“Me too,” said Dorian.
“A girl?” Tabitha reached for his hand an held it.
“Yes.” He stared at her again. Her eyes. The necklace.
“Betrayal?” She brought his fingers to her lips and gently kissed them.
“In a way. She’s not real.”
“Neither am I,” said Tabitha, teasing him.
“But you’re here.” He responded, trance-like.
“And she isn’t,” she said and Dorian nodded.
Tabitha had him and placed his hands on her chest, touching the Darkling. “I need you to do something.”
“Anything,” he said and Tabitha knew then he’d die for her.
“Call your sister.”
Samantha and Erin paced the kitchen, anxious about Dorian’s absence. Sam texted him seventy gazillion times and they decided to give him another hour before searching for him. Meanwhile, Sam received a call from Dorian, revealing that he was at the amusement park distracting himself from their argument. He sounded like he was climbing or lifting something. Erin felt deflated when Dorian said he didn’t want to talk to her, but Sam insisted on going to the park to discuss his feelings and warn him about Tabitha and the Darkling. Erin agreed to accompany her. At the park, they found Dorian on the weird Spider ride, with Tabitha by his side looking stronger and more confident than ever. Sam and Erin confronted Dorian and Tabitha, stating their concerns and the need to discuss the Darkling issue. The scene ended with the girls approaching the ride, ready to face their conversation with Dorian.
Erin paced the kitchen. “Text him again.”
“Relax, girl. I’m on it. Though I’m pretty sure he got the last seventy gazillion.” Sam thumbed the screen again and tossed the phone on the table. “There. Seventy gazillion and one.”
“Thanks. I just can’t leave it at that. Dorian has to know how I feel.”
And warn him about Tabitha and the Darkling. “We’ll give it another hour then we’ll go looking for him. More coffee?”
“God, no,” said Erin. “I’m maximum caffeinated already.”
Sam’s phone buzzed. Dorian. She showed Erin the screen then answered.
“Hey, Sis.”
“Hey, yourself.” Sam could hide neither the relief nor the worry.
“Look, I’m sorry about last night. I just had to get away and think.”
“Are you okay?”
“I will be,” said Dorian. A breeze crackled through. He was outside.
Sam looked to her friend and nodded. “Do you want to talk to Erin?”
“No. Not yet,” he said. Sam shook her head and Erin visibly deflated.
“Where are you? You’ve been gone all night.”
“I’m just over at the amusement park distracting myself. Checking out the gear. I think I could get some of these other rides working.” Dorian sounded like he was lifting or climbing something.
“You want me to come over for some company?” She wanted to say ‘us’ but figured that wouldn’t pass.
“Sure. That’d be great. We should talk.”
“See ya in a few.”
“Bye.”
Sam hung up, set the phone down and ran her fingers through her hair. “He said he doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“I gathered that,” said Erin. “You’re going to him?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah. Try and talk some sense into him and give him a heads-up about the Darkling.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Of course you are. Guardian, sidekick or just my best friend. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The girls left the side of the house and ambled their way to the amusement park. It was early on a quiet Sunday morning in the neighborhood and they had the world to themselves.
“Dorian,” called Sam.
“Over here,” he replied and the two girls followed the voice to the weird Spider ride with the arms flailing like a weird sea monster. Dorian stood in one of the seats a dozen feet above them. The machinery hums and slowly rotates until Dorian is at ground level and he steps out. “Say hello to Tabitha. I believe you’ve met.”
“Hello, ladies,” said Tabitha with overt sugary sweetness as she joined Dorian and hooked her arm into his. She looked different. More put together. Stronger. Confident.
Sam attempts to raise an energy ball, wondering about Dorian’s actions. Tabitha sends a black lightning wave at Sam, but she spreading her shield to absorb it. Erin tries to stop Tabitha, but Dorian attacks her with fire, leaving her unharmed but weak. Sam’s power is drained by Dorian’s magic, causing her to wither and die while hearing whispers. She struggles against letting go, but eventually succumbs to sleep.
Sam spread her hands apart to raise an energy ball. What is Dorian doing with her?
“You’ll have to do better than that, Princess,” said Tabitha as she thrusted her hands forward, casting a black lightening wave of energy at Sam.
“No!” yelled Erin as she ran for Tabitha to stop her.
Sam’s thoughts pushed her ball ahead and spread it out as a shield to absorb Tabitha’s assault.
Dorian conjured his own fireball and loosed it at Erin. She’s stopped cold in her tracks as the fire enveloped her and she collapsed.
“What have you done, Dor?” screamed Sam as she rushed to Erin’s body. Her skin was hot to the touch but it wasn’t burned. The flame was more force than fire.
A pull like the strongest magnet hit Sam and she stumbled back away from Erin in reflex and fell to her knees.
Dorian’s magic held Sam in place as Tabitha’s wave of black lightening connected the two women and the Darkling.
Sam heard it whisper as her power drained away, her flesh withering and her life waning.
‘Let go, Samantha.’
I can’t.
‘It’ll be easier this way.’
I know.
‘No more fighting’
Dorian.
‘No more tears.’
Erin.
‘No more death.’
Mom.
‘No more magic.’
Me.
‘Let go, Samantha.’
I don’t want to.
‘Give in to it.’
Please.
‘You’re tired.’
So tired.
‘This can end.’
Please.
‘You can rest.’
Let me…
‘You can sleep.’
Sleep.
Mom reassures Samantha that she’s not a little girl anymore and clarifies that she’s not dead. Samantha associates her mother’s presence with death and asks if she can stay, which Mom denies due to Samantha’s responsibilities towards her husband and sisters. Samantha expresses exhaustion, and Mom urges her to be strong.
You’re not a little girl any more, Sam.
Mom?
Yes, Honey.
I miss you.
I know. I miss you too.
Am I dead?
No.
Why are you here?
I’m not.
Can I stay with you?
No, Sweetie. You can’t.
Your dad needs you.
Dorian needs you.
Erin needs you.
Live, Sam.
I’m so tired.
You don’t have to be.
Be strong.
Erin senses the smell of burnt hair and opens her eyes to see a blue sky. She wants to swim in the ocean, but hears people screaming and the roar of something she can’t identify. She feels a tingling in her fingers and toes, numbness, and wetness on her stomach, realizing it’s blood. She moves too quickly and lands on a piece of rebar that pierces her back. Tabitha and Dorian are nearby, with Sam looking unwell and held in place by powerful Talisman-wearing Tabitha. Erin, weakened but determined, uses her newfound abilities to push the rebar so she can stand and direct her pain elsewhere. She calls out to Dorian, begging him to save Sam and not to harm her before collapsing as the Guardian’s final act.
At first, all Erin could sense was the smell of burnt hair. It reminded her of school day mornings and a curling iron allowed to get too hot.
She opened her eyes. A sky as blue as any there would be that summer. A deep forever blue. She wanted to be lost in the ocean above her. She’d swim and swim and enjoy the silence of being under water. Was that smoke?
Her ears popped and the noise of the world assaulted her. People were screaming. Sam was screaming. Then she wasn’t. Laughter and then the roar. Not an engine. Not a river. Somehow both and neither.
Erin was numb everywhere but a tingling in her fingers and toes. She wiggled them and counted them all. Her back hurt but it was better to feel it than not at all.
She felt wet but it hadn’t rained since. Was it yesterday or the day before? Time was slippery. Erin moved her hand to her stomach and felt the dampness. It was warm and sticky. She held her hand to her face. Blood. Her blood.
The burning. The smoke. The roar. The laughter. The screaming. The blood.
Erin sat up too fast and immediately regretted it. She’d landed on a piece of steel rebar embedded in concrete and it pierced her back to front. Once she had moved, it hurt. Her breath came quick and shallow. Erin forced herself to slow it down. This wasn’t the time to panic. This wasn’t the time to die.
She looked around her. Tabitha and Dorian stood side by side and the source of the roar was plain. Erin followed the energy stream to Sam, slumped on her knees and held in place. Sam didn’t look well. She was smaller, wasted.
Tabitha, on the other hand, look resplendent. As strong as she looked earlier, she was even more so. The talisman glowed hot on her chest. To look at it was painful.
No one paid attention to Erin. She was out of play. Collateral damage in the grand fight.
“Dorian,” she said but her voice wasn’t there. It failed her. It hurt so bad. The roar was so loud. “Dorian,” she tried again. Nothing.
She had to do something. She had to act. Sam was going to die. And that couldn’t happen. I’d be lost without her.
And then it struck her. If she indeed was a conjured being then maybe she also had some ability. Her physical strength and resilience came from somewhere.
Erin brought her own mind in to focus and worked at what she’d Sam do dozens of times in the last few weeks. She closed her eyes and concentrated on being strong. She visualize her hands and bade them work to each side of the rebar’s entry. Carefully she stood and let the metal pass backwards out of her. She willed the pain elsewhere.
Finally it was gone and she could breathe. Blood pooled around her fingers and Erin felt ready to pass out.
Holding her wounds, Erin called out. “Dorian.” He sees me!
“Dorian. I love you. Don’t do this. Save Sam. Save us.”
And that was it. All she had to give. Erin, Guardian to the last, collapsed.
Merle reaches the amusement park and heads towards the Spider, knowing Tabitha’s showdown with the Darkling will take place there. He watches as Sam is weakened by Darkling magic, a familiar outcome for his daughter and mother. Though the price of vengeance is high, Merle prepares for the confrontation. The Darkling radiates power, making it hard to distinguish between demon and victim. Dorian stands by Tabitha’s side, fulfilling Merle’s prediction. Several soldiers are also present. If Dorian survives, Merle will help him focus on the Council’s work. The Guardian meets an untimely end. Merle clutches his chest as Tabitha and the Darkling both fall, sensing that the Darkling has risen while he misses it. Tabitha realizes she won’t survive and understanding that her power over the Darkling was an illusion. Like others before her, she is cast aside and discarded by the demon.
Merle entered the amusement park and knew right where to go. Tabitha’s showdown would be at the Spider, but more importantly, the Darkling would want to be there. It would suit the demon’s sense of drama. He observed the scene with the detachment of a master games-man. He had to. This was family.
Sam was nearly drained, vanquished by Darkling magic. The same as her mother, the same as his daughter. Sometimes the price of vengeance was too high, but it was Merle’s to endure.
The Darkling shone powerfully and it was hard to tell where Tabitha ended and where the demon began. It wouldn’t be long now. He was ready. Let the Darkling rise. Let old Merle collect his prize.
Dorian stood by Tabitha’s side, the old man’s prediction brought to reality. Soldiers follow. If Dorian survived this, he would have a hard time. Merle would help him. Help him focus on the good work of the Council.
The Guardian wouldn’t see another sunrise. A waste, but a loose end that tied itself.
The problem with old men is they have old hearts.
Merle’s heart faltered and he clutched his chest at the precise moment Tabitha does the same.
The Darkling had risen and Merle missed it.
Tabitha’s last thoughts were of her elated joy being eclipsed by a dark realization. She wasn’t going to survive this. The power of the Darkling was never hers to command. As everyone else in her pathetic life had done, Tabitha would be cast aside, discarded. Like so much garbage.
Dorian confronts the Darkling as it devours Tabitha’s remains. Surrounded by the beast’s wings, claws, and feathers, he faces the demon responsible for Sam and Erin’s deaths. Grasping the talisman from the Darkling’s neck, it crumbles in his hands, igniting laughter from the monster. Despite being stabbed by the demon, Dorian endures its attacks, longing for the end.
The Darkling forced its way into this world. Woe to those who opposed.
The demon’s clawed wing snatched the remains of Tabitha’s ripped body and it tossed it into its upturned beak and swallowed her whole. It was impossible to know where to look. Wings, claws and feathers— the beast was all these and more in a midnight black.
Dorian, released from Tabitha’s glamour, stood dumbfounded between the demon beast and the beaten bodies of both his sister and her friend. Sam and Erin, slain by his hand.
Without hope. He turned his back to the women and squared off against the Darkling.
Without Sam. Without Erin. He loved them both.
The soldier became his own master and he chose.
He jumped, reaching for the talisman now hanging from the Darkling’s neck, a vestigial reminder of its bondage. It crumbled at his touch and the beast laughed the most horrible laugh. The Darkling stuck Dorian, but Dorian stood his ground.
He weathered the demon’s assault, wishing for the end.
Sam awakens as her powers surge, scattering the talisman’s influence. She watches in horror as Dorian begs the Darkling, who rips him apart. Sam carries Erin, desperate for her friend. They rise, facing the Darkling. Sam channels Erin’s magic, creating a massive fireball. In a blinding flash, it obliterates the Darkling, leaving Sam and Erin amidst the destruction. They hold each other, their bond their only solace.
Sam snapped back to consciousness as her powers flooded back into her reanimated body, the draw of the talisman scattered like bone dust in the wind. She saw Dorian, arms spread wide, begging for the Darkling to take him.
“Dor,” she screamed but he didn’t hear her. The Darkling picked Dorian up with its talons and ripped his body apart.
Oh no. Dorian. Erin. Sam crawled to her best friend’s body and gathered her up. She needed her friend. More than anything. Everything had come apart.
“Sam,” said Erin. “Has the Darkling come?”
She nodded. “We have work to do. Dorian.”
“He’s gone,” said Erin. “I can’t feel him any more.”
They helped each other to their feet. Sam gathered her thoughts and the morning sky grew dark. White magic. Black magic. She didn’t care.
“I can help,” said Erin. “There is magic in me. Draw it from me.”
Sam formed her ball and poured her love for Erin and Dorian into it. She channeled Erin’s fury. Bolts of static electricity bounced off every surface as the the ball grew.
The Darkling turned to Sam. “I knew your mother,” it said.
The fireball grew larger and larger as Sam’s flew into it. With a great flash, it blew apart, filling the amusement park with blinding light.
And then it was gone.
Sam and Erin sat alone amid the rubble and held onto each other. That would have to be enough.