Generation Witch Year One

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Generation Witch Year One Page 46

by Schuyler Thorpe


  “So you’re her. The former captain of the armies of the Third Watch.” Tillie guessed correctly.

  “What I was in my previous human form is now gone. All those who dared to defy me have perished. You are the only one left. You stand alone. The bones of your allies and former friends now decorate my quaint little abode. I want you to join them—witch.”

  Tillie Gunderson drew out her favorite trump card: Her enchanted Gatling gun.

  The dragon-thing shrunk back in surprise.

  “I thought I got rid of all your silly toys? All your magic. All your incantations…everything.”

  Tillie grinned maliciously. “You missed,” she said in cold triumph. “You can never rid a witch that of which is most precious to her. Bruno? It’s time for you to awaken and play with your victim tonight.”

  A somber voice emanated from the weapon’s barrel.

  “Yes, mistress. I hear and obey.”

  The Gatling gun sputtered to life—its rotating barrels blurring as one. Then all hell broke loose as salvo after salvo punched forth into the space between them and slammed into the dragon-thing with unmatched ferocity and brutality.

  Flesh was ripped apart in the blink of an eye. Organs punctured, defiled, chewed to bits by thousands of rounds of kinetic energy.

  There came a brief roar of pain and anguish as the dragon-thing melted away on its own accord—only to be replaced by the still form of a human body.

  A woman.

  Tillie stopped her murderous rampage in that second—her finger on the trigger guard.

  “Do you want me to take care of her as well?” Her weapon inquired at that point.

  Tillie shook her head.

  “No. We’ve done enough for one day. We’ve brought peace and security back to the New Republic. Life can begin again. As it was always ordained in the books.”

  “Then maybe a spell incantation then? To make sure she never wakes up?”

  Tillie nodded and stepped forward a few more feet—her hands aglow with magical energy from a new spell incantation.

  In the next few seconds, the words she spoke formed a permanent cell for the woman in question as she lay in repose on an old style prison bunk—dressed in period clothing and looking none worse for wear; save for the bruises and the burn marks across one side of her face where the rounds did the most damage in her dragon form.

  Then she took the magical key out of the lock and sealed her in tight.

  “This is the end for you, my old nemesis. You will never torment all kind’s children ever again. Humanity will become the sheep they have always been destined to become—because I will it. I am the last Sorceress Supreme. My words are law—” Then someone—somewhere—booped her on the nose; causing her to slap the offending hand away from her face.

  ***

  “—I am the law.” A teasing voice tormented the sleeping girl from close range—mimicking a once famous actor’s voice.

  “No. Go ahead. Let’s see what else is on her mind.” Another distant voice called out. “This is most entertaining. I did not even know that she could even talk in her sleep.”

  Tillamook moaned softly in her sleep—while trying to shy away from whatever was in front of her. But she had a death grip on her boyfriend’s shoulder as he watched her with open amusement.

  Charlie craned his head back. “I didn’t either. Sounds like she’s having a great time from what she’s been calling out for the past five minutes.”

  Roz giggled as she stood behind him next to the bed.

  “It sounds more like she conquered her demons in her sleep. Because she kept calling out a name while she was out of it.”

  “Kara Plummer’s?” Charlie guessed off hand. “That’s what I heard as well. But I wasn’t that sure myself.”

  There came a soft sigh from the other party’s side of the bed—even as she was curled up in the fetal position with both legs tucked under her large cloak and then nothing else came out for the next couple of minutes or so.

  “Well, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say we finally have a winner on our hands.” The other girl placidly tossed out for her best friend’s benefit.

  “So who wants to wake her up first? Because I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

  Roz grinned before she showed him a couple of brown bags in her hands.

  “I got some Mexican takeout if you want some of it. Because I’m not planning on eating this all by myself.” She offered pointedly.

  “Give me a second to pry myself from Tillamook’s death grip here. For someone that young, I’m amazed by how much strength she’s been hiding all this time.”

  Roz snorted with amusement. “You just need to work out more. Your tiny chest muscles need to get bigger.”

  Charlie chuckled. “No way am I getting man pecs.” He said while he tried to extricate himself from her.

  “Come on girlfriend. Let go. You’re giving my namesake a bad name here.” He implored gently. Somehow, he managed to do the impossible and she curled up her arm against her chest in response. But the girl was still very much asleep from his vantage point.

  Then he started massaging the soreness out of his shoulder after that.

  “I think…yep. My arm has fallen asleep. When did she learn how to do the Vulcan Death Grip?” He wondered with quiet admiration.

  “Might have been something that her parents taught her in the ways of self-defense?” Roz guessed off hand. Then she asked: “Ready to eat?”

  “What do you have you in the first bag?”

  “Taco wraps. Enchiladas. A box of crispy jalapeno cheese curls. There’s some rings in there as well. The other bag has Mexican rice. Four mondo burritos at the bottom and some Mexican pixie sticks. The fireball variety.”

  “Give me a taco wrap first. I want to try something.” Charlie demanded lightly.

  Roz nodded and set the second bag on the stool next to the drawing table and came back with the first—digging into its contents and coming away with a steaming taco wrap.

  “It’s spicy—so be careful.” She warned. “I didn’t know what to get since they didn’t have the vegetarian option.”

  “I’ll live,” the older boy said—while peeling away the wrapper and making sure that everything was secure.

  Then he proceeded to wave it just a hair under her nose.

  “Wake up Sleeping Beauty. Time to eat.” He said with merciless enjoyment.

  “Want me to take a picture?” Roz joked—watching the scene in front of her. “For posterity’s sake anyways?”

  “In a minute,” Charlie optioned out at that last possible second before Tillie reacted subconsciously and lunged forward—biting off the end with equal and well-timed savagery.

  Then she sighed and started snoring a bit in response.

  Roz’s jaw had dropped open when she witnessed the scene and then she started laughing.

  “Blessed Be…! Just be glad that it wasn’t your fingers or anything equally precious.”

  Charlie grinned and undid some more of the wrapping. “Not me. I’m enjoying the challenge. It’s a good bonding experience.” He said affably.

  “Yeah…if you don’t mind missing a few fingers in the process.” The other girl reminded him again.

  “I’ll live.” He said without worry. Then he went back to doing what he did earlier and said quietly: “It’s all hot and gooey, Tillamook. And it’s all yours—if you want it.”

  Roz leaned in just a bit to see her ex-rival’s reaction and it didn’t take long before Tillie’s hand lashed out and she grabbed the offending taco wrap in question and started stuffing her face with it—making happy noises in the meantime.

  “Yup. She’s awake.” Roz decided then and there—smiling as she went.

  Charlie grinned—watching his girlfriend eat her fill of the taco wrap. In less than a couple minutes, most of it was “Gone With The Wind”.

  “As God as my witness, I shall never be hungry again,” she voiced solemnly—before belching.
Then she opened her eyes and looked at Charlie sweetly.

  “Thanks for the meal, stranger.”

  “Anytime. But there’s more if you want it. A complete meal—as it were.” He offered then.

  Tillie yawned and began rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  “Like what?”

  “Oh, just about everything for three people? There would be a fourth, but I haven’t seen Rachel since she left three hours ago. Said she had a meeting to go to with Felix or something.”

  Tillie laughed despite herself. “Don’t worry about those two. They’ll be at it all night. They haven’t seen each other in a good long while. So it’s okay by me if they miss out.”

  “You sure? We could wait.”

  The other girl made a hand gesture.

  “I’m sure. So what’s in the second bag?”

  “How do you even know there’s a second bag? You were asleep!”

  “Half-asleep, actually. You two were talking up a storm, so…?”

  “You played along.” Charlie chuckled to himself. “That figures.”

  Tillie gazed at him for a spell. “Mom always said I had a flair for theatrics. Besides that taco wrap was absolute heaven. It’s been awhile since I had Mexican takeout.”

  “You don‘t have Mexican takeout?”

  The other girl shook her head. “Mom’s dietary “restrictions”.” She hinted with small hand movements of her own. “Anything fattening isn’t good for my girlish figure. But I’ve seen Bart eat his weight in chimichangas and not gain an ounce in return. And that left me jealous as hell.”

  “Who’s Bart?”

  “Bart is one of Leslie’s friends. Played on the B-squad in junior varsity. That boy was lean as a green bean. All sinew and muscle. But boy could he do some wicked three pointers from long range and some dazzling dunks from the free throw line.”

  “Bart’s that black kid—right? I heard they started calling him “MJ” for short. Michael Jordan.” Charlie mulled.

  “How do you know about him?”

  “Oh. Some rumors spreading around town. I heard some of it from one of Todd’s people about this wonder kid from John Seeger High School down in the Bronx. Had some wicked moves of his own and man…! Could he play.”

  Tillie grinned. “That would be him. The next superstar in the NBA—if he ever gets an agent once he graduates in two years. I promised I would be there to root for him—but you know my mother…?”

  “Is everyone against you forming normal relationships with people or is it just…humans?” Roz inquired delicately.

  Tillie sighed and got up out of her spot on the bed before sitting cross-legged up against the cold wall.

  “Humans.” She said with major humility on her part. Then she sighed heavily. “Humans.”

  “But why?”

  “Because my family has had a long sad history with intermarrying with pure bloods. That’s how I came along.” The other girl remarked dryly.

  “Is that why your mom was initially against having me in your life? She made mention of some past relationship problems when we last spoke, but she never elaborated on the why.” Charlie voiced quietly.

  “Because we’re not supposed to—technically—marry outside our race.” Tillie told him. “That’s how this shit storm started generations ago. Going all the way back to the turn of the 20th century—when the first witch married a human. Oh man, did that event ever cause a stir.”

  “Why?”

  “Because back in those days, you weren’t allowed to form relationships with outsiders other than other magical familiars. Or magical kinsfolk. It was…forbidden—at the time—by the witch’s code.”

  “Seems like someone fucked up.” Roz bluntly pointed out. “Of course, I remember some of what went down in those days as nothing short of heresy.”

  “It was—actually.” Tillie admitted out into the open. “A lot of people were hurt in those days. Some were killed for having such marriages or relationships. People were screaming for justice. For retribution. Or revenge against the pure bloods for daring to contaminate things with what some considered their filthy human habits and mating practices.”

  “Here,” the other girl said—handing Charlie another taco wrap—before taking one for herself.

  Charlie passed his onto his girlfriend. “You’ll need this more than me,” he offered gallantly.

  “Bull.” Tillie countered, pushing it back towards him. “I had my first. So this is your first. Eat.”

  “But—”

  “Charlie…I’m not going to leave you because some people think it’s a bad idea that you and I should get together like this. You have been nothing but patient and understanding. You have never forced yourself on me, or done anything remotely questionable.”

  “But Rachel seemed to think otherwise.” He said delicately. “Just my being with you set off alarm bells with her in a heartbeat. You saw how she reacted.”

  “That’s because we are at war with the humans. She’s nothing more than my instructor and teacher.”

  “Former.” Roz interjected. “Former.”

  “Until the next semester in June.” Tillie countered.

  “Okay. I stand corrected.”

  “My point being is that she’s worried about maintaining the balance between the bloodlines. Especially when it comes to witches like me.”

  “Does marrying a human somehow change that?” Charlie asked.

  “Oh yes. Very much so. It dilutes our powers and abilities. Dampens them for a time. That’s why mom was worried about me for the first ten years: Because normally, I would be showing some hint of magical ability, but nothing was happening until I “awoke” and it all came rushing out all at once. Mom had to put a cork in it real quick before I ended up wrecking the whole house.”

  “So that would make you…not a full witch. But a half of one?”

  “Yes.” The other girl admitted freely without guilt. “Half. But very powerful and very chaotic.”

  “Why? I don’t understand. If you’re half of something wouldn’t that—um…do something along different lines?”

  “Humans have shown to have little or no problems when they intermarry within their own race. But marrying outside their race—as they have been doing for awhile now—? That’s created a progressing imbalance in the natural way of things—especially when it comes to magic. I’m sure Roz here can relate to that in some way.”

  Roz nodded. “She’s right.” She muttered over a bite from one of the jalapeno cheese curls. “Being human is a big pain in the ass.”

  “Because being a magical familiar or magical kinsfolk is—?” Charlie started off with some difficulty on his part.

  “—is much better in the long run. Without all the necessary baggage.”

  “Because of purity reasons?”

  “For the most part.” Tillie admitted freely. “A whole witch is ten times more balanced and equally harmonious with the natural world than someone like me who is always at war…with herself. Because I am half one and half of another. We are not always seeing eye to eye on that front.”

  “So in order to solve certain problems, you would have to sacrifice the part that has held you back?” Charlie guessed correctly.

  Tillie smiled sadly. “Yes. It wasn’t an easy choice, man. I still miss my human childhood. But being a witch has offered so much more in the long run.”

  “Like what?”

  Tillie showed him what she meant through a special magical incantation.

  “Like having the power to change and move things at will.” She said—both her wrists and hands glowing with purpose.

  Charlie looked at her for a second. “You know…I never noticed it before but I think your eyes are glowing.”

  “That’s what they are supposed to do, silly. Witches and sorcerers have that ability.”

  “So lasers will come shooting out of your eyes then?” Roz joked.

  Tillie pointed a finger at her. “Keep talking and it may just happen.” She f
ired back in jest.

  Everyone laughed then. But no damage happened as a result of her comment.

  Then Tillie’s incantation faded and so did everything else. Then she put her hands back into her lap. Then she started toying with the used taco wrap wrapper in tow.

  “Now you see why being a witch has so much to offer to all kind—not just being human.” The girl said. “And why being with one has been proven to be something of a liability among my kind.”

  Charlie raised his hand then. “I can go back to being friends with you—if that will take the heat off.”

  Tillie snorted somewhat. “Over my dead body.”

  “But what about—?”

  “Knowing the history of my kind doesn’t change the fact that I love you, man. It just…puts things in a different perspective. That‘s all.”

  “So you won’t get into trouble?” Roz questioned at that point.

  “Look who’s talking, elf girl. You were ready to jump his bones in a heart beat recently.”

  “That’s because I was drunk!” She railed heavily—before passing a box towards Charlie—whom opened it. Inside was some jalapeno cheese curls. All nice and greasy. And still warm too.

  He took a few for himself before passing them to his girlfriend.

  Tillie ate a small handful before she realized how spicy and hot they were.

  “Damn!” she choked out. “Water! Water! Something! Quick!”

  Roz laughed before she grabbed a still cold bottle from the takeout box she carried all the way here with her.

  “Here. Drink.” She offered quickly—watching Tillie make a grab for it. Then she unscrewed the top off and started gulping down healthy amounts of water before the burning sensations in her mouth abated with each passing second.

  “Fuck…” she breathed out finally, panting a bit in the process. “Next time, warn me when you feed me those things.”

  Charlie chuckled mostly to himself. “Sorry. Didn’t know how you’d react to Carlos’s house specialty.”

  Tillie belched again and this time she saw stars.

  “Tell your friend the next time you see him that he’s a fucking asshole. Those things are hellishly nuclear!”

  Roz smiled. “That’s the whole idea.” She said in passing. “But you were only supposed to eat one at a time, not scarf down a handful like you just did.”

 

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