Page 9 of Bewitched
"I think you two have unfinished business to discuss," I tell them.
CHAPTER 7
Of course he came back to her…
She folds her arms beneath her breasts and looks up at me.
"You look… pale…" The exclusive trash that flows from my mouth makes Neo release a long sigh while rolling her eyes. "I can see right through you…" I wave my hand attempting to indicate directly to him but my finger slips straight into him. Neo’s eye snap wide open, and she glares at me. Her gaze sharp. Touching the ghost is similar to the feeling of cold whiff that escapes when you crack open a freezer.
"Can you really see straight through me? Now that’s just wild!" He laughs. Neo is confused. I just don’t give a fuck. "Man… being dead…" he sits on one of the wooden boxes. "...dead- dead is amazing. I can flow through walls. I am not craving blood… But I am horny." He turns his head to Neo.
"You can’t even see me, you idiot!" She moves over, pausing at my side. The previous vampire stands up, rubbing his palms together. I step ahead of Neo, shielding her whole body behind me.
"Now, Nox… let’s play with her."
"She already did with me."
"Damn dude… I saw her first."
"It costed you... your eyes."
"Oooh, I don’t take used toys. Did you fuck her?"
Neo steps ahead of me, seizing my shirt and pulling me down to her. "I was about to ride him." She snatches the cigar resting between my lips and she presses hers to mine. Her tongue sliding between my lips, seeking the warmth of my own. I hoist her up, and her legs encircle my waist. She moans on my lips. Spicy strawberry lip gloss seduces my senses, tickling my tongue. Hands hold my jawline, the smoke kept safe between two of her fingers. Eyes lock onto mine. Neo’s magic thrums through me, and I feel an unexplained attraction. My fangs ache, my senses tingle again. I am trapped, helpless against this force. One wrong move… I am possessed. She pulls away from our kiss, and I feel my body burning.
"Put me down."
A moment passes before I yield to her request. I have to comply. Yet, I don’t fucking want to.
"He left."
I put her down, and she wipes away the red lip-gloss smeared on my lips. Her flavor lingers on my tongue and I savor every drop as I swallow.
"What the fuck was that?"
"I am not his anymore… I don’t know if it’s a stupid vampire thing… but he left… you marked me… I don’t know… I am sorry! It’s the only thing that came to my mind… to get rid of him."
I slide my hands into my pockets. Hopefully, she won’t notice my hard cock. For fuck’s sake.
CHAPTER 8
Forty-eight hours have passed.
Resting between the black sheets, my eyes are glued to the ceiling. Hex’s cold bones are rubbing against my cheek.Why, you wonder…we share the same pillow. Yes, I am sleeping alongside a collection of wiggling bones every night. My finger scratches the smooth skull, right above where his little nose once was. He purrs; the bones in his neck vibrate with joy. Quickly, he springs up, eyeing the window and unveiling his fangs. Arching its spine, the hiss itself is a clear signal of distress.
I lift myself on my elbows, and the shady outline of something on my windowsill disappears.
"Don’t worry…" I stand up and scoop Hex up into my arms "… they can’t get in." We walk to the window, and I pull aside the sheer drapes. Outside, the full moon casts an eerie glow over the misty street. Twisted, skeletal trees claw at the sky, a sudden gust of wind rustles the leaves, dancing under its cold rhythm, carrying whispers with it. A dense fog rolls in, swallowing the dim streetlights and turning familiar shapes into ominous shadows. The distant toll of a broken church bell echoes. It’s midnight.
Just for a second—I catch a glimpse of a shadow darting between the trees, elongated fingers curling around the trunk before disappearing into the night. I put Hex on the bed and take my knife from the drawer.
The dark floorboard creaks beneath my bare feet. Ahead, the darkness is alive with shadows, stretching and curling in unnatural shapes. Something scuttles in the corner—too fast to see, but loud enough to make me turn my head. I rush to the entrance and turn the key in the lock. Hex runs between my legs out into the street. The pavement beneath my feet is rough, uneven and cold, draining the warmth straight from my skin. The silence is suffocating—no distant traffic, no rustling leaves now, just the eerie weight of the night pressing on my shoulders. Streetlights flicker weakly, casting warped silhouettes that seem to stretch toward me, shifting when I am not looking. The air is thick, carrying the scent of damp earth, smoke and something metallic. I know I am not alone. The feeling of unseen eyes settles on me, heavy, watching from the shadows. Hex brushes its ribs against my ankle. Cautious, spine arched.
"Do you see someone?"
He replies with a negative nod.
A stillness so odd is sealing my ears. A shape shifting too subtly for my logic to grasp.
