All Chapters of WitchFall: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Timothy’s charges were utterly ridiculous. I twisted to look over my shoulder at him. Appalled that he’d taken his lies so far. “The only filthy act of intercourse was you forcing your way into Triana’s mouth!” I shrieked furiously. When I turned my head back to Mathis. His hands were instantly along my cheeks, catching my head in a hypnotic grip. “Tell me what happened.” He said in that oddly echoey voice. “We were washing for me to take her home to Kirkin. They were spying on us.” I gestured behind me limply. “They accused us. Then Timothy took Triana. He was making her suck on him.” I nodded downward to make my meaning clear. “So, I pelted him with a rock.” Mathis’ face was unreadable. “I bet you did.” I couldn’t tell if that was disapproval or admiration. It was too dark, and his voice was too flat to give away anything. He doesn’t believe me. He’s going to take us back. “Ma

Having no pocket to hold the vial in, but feeling that it was gravely important I not lose the precious fluid, I dropped it into the bodice of my dress. Knowing that the cinched waist would firmly hold it in place. For now, anyway. As we emerged through the village, Triana pointed toward Kirkin. Patting my shoulder reassuringly. She wants to go alone? “You don’t want me to go with you?” Triana lifted her hands and shook them in a dissuading way. “Very kind.” She touched the top of my chest lightly. “But very tired.” I was tired. Beyond exhausted really. “I can’t let you go alone. What if someone else like Timothy came along?” I worried. Still walking through the empty early morning booths of the village. Walking a bit faster as I realized that the sun would be coming up soon and early risers might be wandering out with their goods. She gave a sad shake of her head to indicate she didn’

I went toward the booths. Meandering until I found James’ meat stand. Seeing the chickens hanging upside down from the beam above on the right. Squirrels hanging from the right. The scent of cooking pork emanating from a giant pit just behind the stand. Cooked bird legs laid out on a platter. My mother was there. Haggling with him over the price of some meat. Her long wavy brown hair running down her back. Telling me it was her. Her shoulders were broad, and she was a small squat woman. But she made up for that in gentleness and intelligence. Her voice was raising, and I could see father from the bakery giving me a meaningful look. He nodded toward the stand for me to go help her. I swept my long hair over my shoulder to get it off my sweating neck and headed for the stand. I caught mom’s arm. She turned to me. Flushed and furious. “What’s wrong?” I asked her in a quiet voice. “He didn’t deliver the last chickens I purc

I had no choice I pulled on a clean dress and my shoes. Barely remembering to snatch the vial from my drawer, before quietly crept from my window. Headed up WitchFall Hill. I found myself aimed for the last place I ever wanted to go again. His home. The vial cooled in my hand. The night breeze making it chilly. It dusted the treetops, making them flow like dark wings in the near blinding air. The bleak building towered above threateningly. Orange flamelight emanating from windows just above the ground. Leading to the dungeons. The higher rooms were a soft yellow from meager candlelight. He prefers the dark… Realizing I couldn’t keep the vial in my hand I tucked it between my breasts, resting safely just behind where my bodice cinched the dress. I was chewing my cheek. Wishing that someone else could be doing what I was doing while I rested. My eyes felt heavy, and I was so unspeakably

I stopped just inside the door. Staring in horror at the shining thing in the center of the room. Glinting metal in the moon’s glow peering down from the skylight, which inexplicably allowed in moonlight from the sky. Despite that we buried in the core of the stronghold. I stared at the device in the center of the room. A giant metal ring with flat pieces going from another smaller ring in the center. Padded with fur. The four flat pieces were all rising from the small ring straight upward. Mathis walked to them and expertly began separating the flat plates and moving them apart. Letting two scrape down to the bottom and setting the other two at a forty five degree angles from the center. “What is this?” I asked fearfully. “Something new.” He said cheerfully. Adjusting those flat plates and then sliding over levers and setting them to hold the flat pieces in place. Pinched between the levers. He went to a black corner and brought out a