Why Is It? LIVE

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

‘Why is it?’ We knew why. We speak in coded languages. That you might never know!

Featuring sensational Lizzie as the Witch!

Uploaded: September 13, 2023

‘Is It Tonight?’

She didn’t answer. Instead, she cut off the call. I stuffed my phone into my back pocket and entered the forest. Treading the path that I had trodden so many times before. The looped path. The path of mists and dew. The path that led me nowhere, and everywhere. There was a Full Moon. The air was chilly, moist, and clingy. I shivered and shuddered and juddered, my body blue in my pink sweatshirt, skinny jeans, soft running shoes. Shuddered and juddered with fear. The path was kissed by fallen leaves, rustling crisps of flame red, beneath my freezing feet. I saw the flames, flickering through the trees. I eased out my phone. And asked her the question,

‘Why is it?’

‘Because!’ that was all she cried, ‘Because!’

We knew why. We speak in coded languages. That you might never know. I switched off my phone, and hurled it as far as I could into the dense undergrowth. I saw the Black Cat! Her eyes shone at me like two glass skulls in the moonlight. I followed her to the knot of beech trees. The fire burnt beyond the trees, its flaming spittle, spewing smoke, ascending high into a starry-clear night sky. My robe hung off a burr - as it always did,

‘Why is it always?’

But she just smiled and turned away. I undressed, feeling the brush of damp twigs abrade my feet, shrouding myself in the robe of black. The path to the coven was kissed by broken twigs, crackling husks of rotted flesh. I saw flames flaring high into the sky, entered the ring and stood before the roaring fire. There were six of them: The Sacred. Shadows with flowy hair, thick black robes, silver grotesque masks.

‘Choose your masques!’ they intoned, as if my life depended, ‘The Fate is calling!’

She disrobed me. The fire burnt my face. I felt its scald heating my body. I stared at the flitting butterflies of scarlet floating dreamily over the fire. Rising on the daemon heat. My body rose! I levitated! My body heated to its very core. My torso roasted over their radiate flames. I rose! On daemon heat! They drew me down. I felt her fingers clutching my shoulders. Felt her, preparing me. So that I stood naked before the roaring flames. She forced me to squat upon my haunches, my hands behind my knees. She pushed my head between my thighs. And made me kiss myself! My hair curtained my crying face. The scent of scorched earth filled my nostrils. The air was hot with fire and smoke. I trembled as my face and body grew ruddy red with fire. I heard their voices, clamouring over me,

‘Worship the Fate! Worship the Fate! Worship the Fate! Worship the Fate! Worship the Fate!’

I felt the tip of her knife part my hair, and press into the skin at the back of my neck. Cold steel!

‘Have you any final words that you would like to say to us, Child?’ the High Priestess cried.
I stared into the Earth! Smelled her Musk! Felt her Need! Heard her Cry! Worshiped my Fate!

‘Yes,’ I murmured helplessly, ‘Why is it always me who ends up getting sacrificed?’

Submitted: September 13, 2023

© Copyright 2023 h-j furl. All rights reserved.

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