Page 27 of Bewitched
"Take it out."
"I was expecting you to put it on my face."
"I won’t touch that shit." She passes me the jar, and I lift it in front of my face to view the spider. "You are not afraid of it?"
"No." I grip the lid of the jar, feeling cold beneath my touch. I twist the lid gently, the slightest resistance before it loosens with a soft click. Inside, the spider stirs. Motionless at first, its delicate legs poised on the tangled web, sensing the shift in pressure. Neo walks to the other side of the room.
"You are afraid of spiders." My fingers hover above the creature. I move them slowly, making sure my touch is light. Its legs brush against my skin. There is a light weight to it—only the gentle tickle of movement as it adjusts, testing the unfamiliar terrain of my palm. I walk to Neo, and horror clutches her immaculate face.
"Stop it!" I can sense her heart racing faster.
I return the spider to the jar and tighten the lid on it, setting it down on the counter. I can see Neo finally gasping for airagain. My walk to her is slow, steady but soft. I scan her face with concern. I stop, keeping a comfortable distance for her.
"You tell me when I am allowed to…" She starts walking towards me. I open my arms. The impact. A full- force embrace, warm, the kind that lifts you off your feet and pulls you so close you forget anything else exists. In this moment, our world disappears, replaced only by the presence of each other. I lower myself just slightly. Her head tucks beneath my chin, fitting perfectly against me, like she is meant to be held this way by me. Her arms wrap tightly around my waist, fingers curling into my back. Her weight leans into me, trusting, comfortable.
"Who did this to you?"
"You got me a helmet?" Her tears are hardened to her cheeks, but my thumb guarantees to brush them away fully. She locked up the shop and we’re in front of my trail bike now.
"I did." I put mine on.
"It’s purple." She lifts the helmet and inspects it.
"I thought you would like that. You can add stickers to it if you want. Personalize it."
"I really do, thank you!" She lifts herself on her toes and kisses my cheek.
CHAPTER 24
The engine rumbles beneath me, vibrating through my whole body as the bike jolts forward. Nox said I’ll do just fine as ‘a backpack’. That means me behind him. I grip him tightly, my hands wrapped around his waist, leaning slightly into him for balance. Every bump sends a shock through my limbs, every turn tilts me into the movement, forcing me to trust Nox completely. The scents of earth and gasoline fill my lungs. I am going to kill him. Someday… He is just a teddy bear. For now.
I sprint down the stairs, heart racing at the news. Zilla is already lacing up her boots.
"I can’t believe it." Her tone is trembling, yet slightly pleased.
"Do we know for sure it’s a fire?" I slide my feet into my shoes.
"I’ll stay until that shit is nothing but ashes!" That feeling—of knowing something is inevitable before it unfolds,crawling under my skin. Its sharp claws puncturing my veins, making my insides bleed to attract my attention.
Zilla parks the car next to the forest near the orphanage. Or what was left behind, like echoes of a faded memory. We grew up in here. Zilla never met her parents, while my mother died giving birth to me. The Coven. Never a home. It was a sanctuary for witches to master the art of magic. Failures incurred the dark consequences of magical punishment. I was punished a lot. They tucked me in a dark room woven with spider silk, a whispering nightmare. Each night, tiny spiders performed their eerie dance, tickling my skin. For days, I cried, haunted by those long legs that crept across my flesh. The sensation filled me with dread, igniting my deepest fears. Zilla’s punishment… She witnessed the heartbreaking spectacle of them taking the lives of animals. This sorrow ignited a passion, a calling, propelling her to become a vet. Terror hung thick around the Coven, casting shadows of fear. Yet, in its dark embrace, we were fed and we discovered our inner witches.
The flames consume the structure, sending thick smoke into the air as heat radiates outward. The fire crackles and roars, windows shatter from the intense temperature, and debris falls as the building weakens. The bright glow illuminates the surroundings. I can feel the flames warming up my skin and Zilla is smiling. A vile smile. Emergency crews rush in, working tirelessly to contain the blaze, while onlookers watch in shock. Something attracts my attention to my right. A shadow shifts between the trees, barely visible against the darkness. I walk to it. I strainmy eyes, catching fleeting glimpses of movement—a figure slipping through the undergrowth, careful, calculated. The moonlight filters through the branches, casting eerie patterns on the forest floor.
Nox is leaning against a tree trunk, a cigarette in his mouth. He makes use of wipes to clean his hands. I walk to him and seize his wrist, raising it to my nose. A blend of gasoline and mint.
"What did you do?"
"Played with fire."
CHAPTER 25
It’s All Hallow’s Eve and I still have plenty to accomplish. The store is accessible for part of the day. I still need to kick Nox’ ass for setting fire to the orphanage due to my panic. And I have to kill him tonight. I can’t delay it anymore. Nothing from Zilla’s list is working.
He burned the building and killed every single monster that was in it. Because of my terror. Because I told him what happened to us. He released the girls who were inside. They are free because of Nox. My heart races just a little faster, as if it’s keeping up with the joy bubbling inside me. I catch myself smiling for no reason, thoughts drifting toward him, replaying the moments that make my chest feel light. I like him... But he is poisoned.
Zilla talked me into trick-or-treating tonight, so I am totally on board. Naturally, she’s donned her feline finest—the mysterious allure of Cat-woman. I dress as the female devil. Everything black: leather mini skirt, a corset—made of satin, in a deep night shade that adds timeless elegance, a gothic piece that laces up in the front… for convenience— thigh-high leather boots and gloves. A headband hidden in my raven hair with bright red devil horns and a pitchfork. Red lipstick, smoky eyes and a sharp eyeliner for the drama.
The crisp autumn air carries the scent of fallen leaves and distant bonfires as groups of costumed children roam the streets. Porch lights glow warmly, illuminating homes decorated with eerie cobwebs, flickering jack-o-lanterns, and ghostly silhouettes swaying in the breeze. A trio of kids—one dressed as a witch, another as a pirate, and the third as a tiny, mischievous vampire—approach a doorstep, clutching their candy buckets tightly. The door creaks open, revealing someone wearing a horror pumpkin mask, splattered with real blood, a bowl brimming with treats in his hands.
