Closet Witches Novels & Stories

They moved Barbara's body from the Healing Room outside of the base. Not far from the base, there is a cave mouth that is not that big. Thirteen witches and several other people involved, including Barbara, entered the cave. The place led to the underground cave. They had to pass sixty-six slippery steps and struggled not to slip over it. The thirteen witches who led the way looked like strange shadows beneath their black batik robes, while the others were wearing only suits and such, although they were both black colored. The two men behind the thirteen witches looked extremely cautious as they descended the stairs with the open coffin slung over their shoulders.

She was an ancient, belonging to the one first generation of witches ; the snake witches. They were the cruelest of them all. From the shadows, Babita stepped forward, her thin and scaly hands rested on Drusilla’s shoulders to keep her in check. The old black cloak she was wearing covered the whole of her face. “ Leave the foolsss. They know nothing better than to argue” Her slithering tongue rolled out as her covered face skimmed the now quiet witches. The rest who were assigned with the potions left what they were doing and quickly gathered round seeing their leader had emerged.

My hands shivering badly as I take them off the silk fabric of my green frock. The same frock I was wearing when these werewolves decided to massacre my whole clan and burn them alive. Burned my parents alive. Now am feeling cold, my bones are shivering as my teeth kept chattering due to the severe cold. I shouldn’t be feeling any cold since am a witch who could control our body temperature as we are comfortable. Then why am not able to use my magic. Fear drops in the pit of my stomach making me shut my eyes more tightly as if it’s possible.

When you start using magic for ill intentions you can become a dark witch or wizard and it’s very hard to turn back. Elder Wynn goes on about our roots in the magical world and how our town was founded by his father’s father’s father’s father back in the late 1600s when witches were hunted and burned at the stake. We made an alliance with the werewolves to live peacefully without persecution from the human world. The problem is we haven’t changed anything since then it’s as if the entire council is still living in the 17th century.

But if the spells do not still agree with the werewolf, it would still turn them away. A witch would not only smell it, but see it too. Because the spells were cast by the witches. Not just any witch. But the ones from the Onwa Clan, which is the moon clan. And since the spells were from the Onwa clan, any witch from that clan could not only see or smell the spell. They could feel it, and touch it. Just like I was running my fingers across the blue strings of smoky light that now filled my car. I smiled as it burst, sending cool force through my hair, as it left my car. Even if it had left, I could still feel the evidence of it's presence around me.

It would take a lot to bring her down, but I was determined to do whatever it would take to bring her down. With my head held high, spine straightened, I walked into the coven meeting room wearing a black hooded cloak with the hood over my head. The rest of the witches wore something similar. But, their cloaks were red instead of black. They all lowered their heads in respect. Although I wasn't as strong as my sister used to be, I was more powerful than the rest of the Witches. I sat down on my seat at the tail end of the long table, then I fiddled with the lotus necklace pendant around my neck. It wasn't the original one. I needed to find the original one because it held so much power. Rhea

"This is what they do, scatter witches like rabbits." “I promise you’re safe now,” I told her. “Can you take me to your people?” She hesitated, then reached out and grabbed my hand. She was freezing. We walked through the trees, Auren and Draken close behind on foot, our horses tied to a low branch. Less than five minutes later, the woods opened up into the half buried remains of an old stone homestead. Tucked behind it, hidden by drifting vines and earth, I found them, twenty witches, mostly women and elders crouched around small magical barriers flickering like candle flames ready to die. Filthy. Exhausted. Terrified.

“There is a small group of chaos witches that broke from their home coven about a decade ago. They now call themselves Ember and Ash. They live among humans, but despise them; they just despise living like homesteaders in the forest more. Their leader’s name is Eliza. That is what my contact was able to get to me. She doesn’t travel outside the forest where she lives out of fear fo being attacked and having her coven be consumed by Ember and Ash.” “How does this help us?” I need to get going and find out what happened to Elara that I felt it hours away and all this new information doesn’t seem to be actionable. “Now that we have confirmed witches are behind the cloak and dagger of these atta

“Because the moon goddess has chosen me to work with the great unifier. She is in danger, and as the witch assigned to help her through her battle with Enzo Darkmoore, I have come to seek your help as our hands are tied.” Hazel exhaled shakily after this, then waited for them to pass their judgment. “Very well then, you may turn around to face us!” the women ordered, and Hazel turned at once as Halle had instructed. In front of her stood a raised platform of ten witches, all dressed in white cloaks, sitting on huge thrones looking down at her. She felt very small before their towering figures. “You seek the release of Radolf Clawmark, do you not?” one witch in the circle asked, diverting Haz

Many of the herbs and roots I ordered are similar to those of the witches working in the house— the upper part of The Vibe club, where they have been staying since they were thrown out of their coven. Oh yes, witches. They are working alongside werewolves, which only implies they are up to something evil. Not all witches are bad, but the ones around here are soulless beings, like the Witch of the East -I could never remember her name. She likes torturing people. One time, she made the food appear and disappear, prolonging our hunger, causing people to pass out while she laughed with a horrendous cackling sound. The witches mask their true nature, making themselves exuberantly beautiful and