Paranormal After Dark: 20 Paranormal Tales of Demons, Shifters, Werewolves, Vampires, Fae, Witches, Magics, Ghosts and More

by Rebecca Hamilton

  I sit gingerly, half expecting for the furniture to not be solid. It’s real and plush, not too firm nor soft. Perfect.

  They’re staring at me, waiting on me. I clear my dry throat. “I found a note that led me here.”

  “What did the note say?” Silver Tiger presses.

  “Relax and let her talk. The poor child is trembling like a leaf.”

  Good cop, bad cop. Or good witch, bad witch?

  I wring my hands. “I think my mom might have come here years ago and asked witches for help conceiving a child.”

  It sounds ridiculous. No, it is ridiculous. I never should have come here. Curious or not, everything about this feels wrong.

  The two exchange a long glance.

  “You think we’re witches?” Sapphire Belladonna asks.

  “I… I don’t know. I don’t know what to think.” Neither of them says anything so I continue, “Did Marian Wynter seek out your advice almost seventeen years ago?”

  Another long glance.

  “She doesn’t know,” Silver Tiger murmurs.

  “Know what?” I don’t bother to keep the annoyance out of my voice. These women, witches, obviously know something, and they aren’t sharing their information.

  “You, my dear—” Sapphire Belladonna starts to say.

  “Did Marian Wynter seek you out seventeen years ago?” I repeat, all pretenses of being polite gone. I’m too sick of lies and half-truths to play games anymore.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you help her?”

  “Yes.” Silver Tiger points to the table, and three cups and saucers materialize. “Drink.”

  It looks like tea and smells like tea, but it doesn’t taste like tea. It’s hot and spicy and yet sweet. Delicious. It warms my insides, and some of my frustration melts away. Too late, I question whether drinking their tea is a smart idea.

  “Yes, we offered to help Marian. And she accepted our terms.” Sapphire Belladonna sips her drink.

  “Terms?”

  “That doesn’t matter. We helped her.” Silver Tiger chugs her drink.

  “How?”

  Silver Tiger’s smile churns my stomach. “We’re witches. How do you think we helped her?”

  “So what are you saying? I was born of magic?”

  “More like you are magic.” Sapphire Belladonna’s eyes seem to pierce through me again.

  I don’t like the feeling of having my soul read, so I stare at the rose-painted ceramic cup in my hands. “Am I a witch?”

  I can’t be. I don’t feel like a witch. I’m just me.

  “No, my dear. You are magic incarnate. You are magic.”

  Silver Tiger taps her fingers on the table until Sapphire Belladonna touches her sleeve.

  “Magic?” I shake my head. My mind refuses to work. “I don’t believe in magic. And what does magic incarnate even mean?”

  Silver Tiger laughs. “How else do you explain the table and the chairs and the witch nectar?”

  I frown and stare at the empty cup in my hand. Witch nectar?

  “You must have hid the chairs and table with an illusion,” I counter even though I doubt I’m right. “Like a magician. A magic show. It’s not real. Magic belongs in books and in movies—”

  “You believe we’re witches, yes? But you don’t believe in magic?” Silver Tiger rolls her eyes.

  “Silver Tiger, shut it,” Sapphire Belladonna snaps. She turns to me, her face revealing nothing. “Crystal, has anything strange ever happened to you?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever dreamt of the future?”

  Does the vision/premonition of the grill catching on fire count? No. That came from God. I don’t want to believe them, but a sense of fear chills my body. My hands grow sweaty, and I drop the cup onto its saucer with a clang and wipe my hands on my jeans.

  “Have you ever wished for something and it happened?”

  I shake my head. “No, but if I pray for something, God answers my prayers more times than not.” I stare at Sapphire Belladonna in a silent challenge for the witch to deny the truth.

  Silver Tiger snorts. “It’s not God answering your prayers, honey. I hate to break it to you. He doesn’t care about us mortals.”

  “That’s not true!” I say hotly.

  Sapphire Belladonna glowers at Silver Tiger. “Do not make me silence you,” she says, her voice low and deadly.

  Silver Tiger mockingly wiggles her shoulders.

  “Silver Tiger does have a point,” Sapphire Belladonna says begrudgingly. “You were the one to make those things happen, not God.”

  My scoff echoes in the small room. I caused the wind to help me find my way home? I caused that creepy man to leave me alone? Not likely. Not possible.

  No way.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you. I don’t believe this. If I’m magic…” I make air quotes. “Am I still human?”

  “No, you aren’t. You are magic, the only one whose magic has limitless possibilities.” Sapphire Belladonna smiles. She looks young, although not quite as youthful as Silver Tiger, but her eyes are old, ancient.

  “Right. I’m magic. How come I look like Marian then? If she was just my—”

  “Surrogate?” Silver Tiger cuts in. “We used her hair and some drops of blood from her husband. You are… were… their daughter to some extent, but you aren’t human.”

  Despite not believing a word they say, I’m terrified. I’m not human? What does that mean about my soul? Do I even have one?

  I slide my chair back. It scrapes against the wooden floor. “If I’m magic,” I say slowly, my skepticism heavy, “then I must be important. Why did you leave me in Marian’s care?”

  “Would it make you feel better to know we’ve been keeping an eye on you?” Sapphire Belladonna asks.

  “You mean spying?”

  “Following you around in trench coats and magnifying glasses? No. Try scrying,” Silver Tiger interjects.

  No, that doesn’t make me feel any better. “So my mom came to you because she gave up on God and medicine giving her a child.”

  “Yes.” Sapphire Belladonna smiles for only a second. She’s too serious, the other one too mean. I don’t know if I can trust either of them even though Marian had.

  “Did she know her child wouldn’t be human?” I ask.

  The two witches stare at each other.

  “Just tell me the truth,” I say wearily. Not that I’ll necessarily believe them.

  “Not exactly,” Sapphire Belladonna murmurs.

  “Of course not.” As much as I’m curious, I can’t believe a word they say. They’re delusional—they have to be. That my birth mother got mixed up with them made me willing to listen, but I’ve had enough. “I’m outta here.”

  I stand and start to walk away when Sapphire Belladonna grabs my hand. “You are powerful, my dear, and you must learn to control yourself. The more you use your power, the more the others will become aware of your presence in this world. Your life will be in grave danger.”

  “The others?” I yank my arm free. “Forget it. I don’t want to know who they are. I don’t even want to know who you two are. I’ll rather go back home and return to my life.”

  “What life do you have to go back to?” Silver Tiger says. At first, I think she’s being snide, but the more the witch speaks, the more I realize she’s being matter-of-fact. “Your grades are slipping because you no longer care about the mundane world. You feel called to do more with your life, yes? You do not know what the future holds.”

  My grades have been slipping. Even before finding out about everything with Marian and Patricia. And lately, I’ve been praying to God more and more, and they’re almost all coming true… except about my future.

  “I have no idea what I want to do,” I admit in a whisper.

  “We can help with that.” Silver Tiger claps her hands. The table disappears, and a large gray cauldron takes its place.

  Now that’s much harder to try to explain away as
an illusion.

  “Shouldn’t it be black?” I mutter, unnerved by the display of “magic.”

  “Change it to black yourself then,” Silver Tiger snaps.

  I smirk and raise my chin. Although I have a sudden strong impulse to try, I know I’ll fail and won’t give Silver Tiger the satisfaction.

  “Give me your hand,” Sapphire Belladonna says.

  Is she going to read my palm? I comply.

  A dagger appears in Sapphire Belladonna’s hand, and before I can wiggle free, she cuts my hand. I can’t hold in my gasp of surprise and pain.

  She turns my wounded hand over, and one, two, three drops of blood fall into the green mixture already in the cauldron.

  Silver Tiger yanks three strands from my head and drops those in. She mumbles a few words while waving her hands over the concoction. The liquid bubbles, changing from green to blue to red to clear.

  “Go ahead, and look inside.” She steps back. So does Sapphire Belladonna.

  I glance at the older witch.

  “Only you can see your future,” Sapphire Belladonna says. “Go on.”

  I feel torn. As desperate as I am to know my future, what I should do with my life, shouldn’t I create my own path, forge my own way?

  Then again, if I am magic, it’s only natural to use magic to learn what I’m supposed to do.

  Not that I think I’m magic.

  But what harm can looking do? After all, if I don’t like what I see, I can always change it. The future isn’t written in stone.

  Although my conscience prickles—magic, after all, is against my religion—I step forward and peer at the clear liquid. My reflection stares back at me for a second before it flickers and wavers away.

  A scene forms in perfect clarity. I see myself with my friends in the cafeteria. An unfamiliar student sits next to me. I have my hand on his shoulder, and he’s staring at me as if I’m the most beautiful girl in the world.

  The view shifts to home. Mom looks happy to see me, as if we never fought.

  Then I see Paula and Sean. They’re fighting, and Paula’s in tears. I watch my watery self mouth some words. Sean wipes Paula face, and they kiss.

  What kind of future is this? This isn’t helpful. What about my future career? I didn’t even know Paula liked Sean.

  The water turns silver, and the scene alters again. I now see a slightly older me. My eyes are different, no longer brown. Darker. My pupils are barely visible. The same boy from the first vision stands beside me. We’re fighting, in a forest somewhere. Other people approach, and a sense of doom fills me.

  The image changes. I’m helping young children at a grade school or a daycare. Again, I only look to be a few months older than I am now.

  Why isn’t the cauldron showing me in college? What I’ll become?

  The liquid turns dark, and I can no longer see myself in it.

  “What did you see?” Silver Tiger asks eagerly.

  I narrow my eyes. “Nothing.”

  All of this, it’s way too much to handle. I dart past them. With each step I take, my mind refuses to stop thinking about the witches and magic and my future.

  Chapter 7

  I CLOSE THE cottage door behind me but before I walk off the short porch, I hesitate. What if the reason why the spell didn’t show my future is because I don’t have one?

  Now that’s a scary thought, even more frightening than the whole magic thing.

  I whirl around and walk back inside, not having to open the door because it already is. The two witches haven’t moved since my outburst. It’s eerie, how still they are.

  The liquid inside the cauldron is green again, as if the spell was never performed.

  “Do the spell again,” I instruct.

  “We can’t,” Silver Tiger says.

  Sapphire Belladonna glares at her before turning to me. “It can’t be done again. The spell—”

  I rip the knife out of her hand and reopen my cut, careful to only drip three drops into the potion. Then I add three strands of my hair. Not bothering to look up, I demand, “Now what?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see them exchange a long glance.

  “Seriously, stop doing that.” I clench my fists together. My wounded palm aches, and blood plops onto the wooden floor. I’m not sure if I’m angrier with them or myself. I shouldn’t be here. Everything inside me wants me to run away. How could Patricia and Marian believe in this nonsense? And yet, why am I still here? Ready, eager even, to attempt a so-called magic spell? It all feels so wrong.

  And yet… almost natural.

  “Repeat after me,” Silver Tiger says. “The past unchangeable, unbreakable. The present unmistakenably malleable Make the future unshakeable.”

  I repeat the words, “The past unchangeable, unbreakable. The present unmistakenably malleable. Make the future… unshakeable.”

  The mixture fizzles. My reflection flickers away. This time, I think of my birth.

  I see myself, an older version of myself. No, that’s not me. It’s Marian. She was rubbing her arms together, her threadbare coat offering little protection from the storm’s harsh raging winds. Lightning cast eerie shadows across her path. Thunder roared like an angry lioness. Sleet slashed across her cheeks, mixing with her tears.

  She desperately wanted nothing more than to snuggle with her husband in front of a roaring fire, far away from the storm.

  Well, that wasn’t completely true. There was one thing she wanted more than that.

  This is so strange… It’s as if I am Marian. I can feel the storm around me. And I can hear her thoughts, too. I don’t question it. It’s not a vision; it’s the past. What an awesome way to see my mother! I hug myself, at first from excitement and then to rub away my goose bumps. It’s chilling, too.

  Lightning struck a tree a few feet in front of her. She slipped on the mud, and rocks cut her palms and knees.

  Daniel didn’t know where she was going tonight, and she wasn’t certain he’d approve. But she was desperate. They both were.

  She hurried through the rocky terrain up the mountainside. A small cottage with lights flickering through the windows offered both shelter from the storm as well as her salvation.

  The wind whipped around more fiercely the closer she approached the cottage. She stumbled forward. The storm seemed almost unnatural.

  Marian raised her hand, but before she could knock, the lights went out in the cottage. Her courage fled, and she even took a step backward.

  No. She’d come too far to leave now.

  She knocked on the door—five short taps followed by two quick ones, just as she had been instructed.

  Nothing. No movement within the cottage, no sound other than thunder and the pounding of sleet against stone.

  She wanted to try the knock again, but she had been told specifically not to do that.

  All she could do was wait.

  Something hard hit her in the head—a large egg-shaped piece of hail. She pressed against the door and tried to shield herself as best she could. Still, the sleet and hail pummeled her.

  More tears leaked, running down her face to her cracked lips, the salt bitter and tangy. If they wouldn’t help her, no one could.

  Daniel didn’t have much time left. Marian couldn’t bear the thought of being all alone.

  “Please!” she shouted. “You have to help me. You have to help us!” The wind whipped at her wet hair. “Please, for Daniel!”

  They were supposed to be the answers to their prayers.

  Another large rock of hail slammed against her head. Her vision blackened for a few seconds.

  “If not for Daniel, then please… please… for the…”

  The door opened, and the storm instantly died. Three tall figures blotted out any light from inside the cottage.

  “Come in,” a hard voice said. “We’ve been expecting you.”

  Marian hesitated for a long second. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea after all.

  I watch Mar
ian enter the same cottage I stand in now. Sapphire Belladonna and Silver Tiger are there, as is another witch with long white hair.

  The scene flickers, and Marian approaches a sickly looking man lying down on a bed. Daniel hardly resembles the happy man from the picture.

  No wonder he refused treatment after a while.

  Marian brings his hand to her belly. Delight and love shine in his face, transforming him completely. He sits, seemingly without much effort, and rubs her still flat belly.

  He did love me. A rush of love and thankfulness envelope me for a man I never saw before.

  The scene flickers to nothing, and I think about my future.

  There I am, lying down, blood trickling out of the corner of my mouth. Everything around me is darkness and in shadows. I can only clearly see myself.

  Dead.

  With slightly longer hair than in the previous scenes I saw earlier, but I don’t look more than a few months older than I do now.

  The liquid turns green again. The spell is over.

  “You must believe now,” Silver Tiger says, her voice breathless. “No witch can perform that spell twice for the same person.”

  “There is nothing that she must do.” For the first time, Sapphire Belladonna sounds riled up.

  “Besides, I’m not a witch.” My voice is hollow. I am hollow. I still don’t think of myself as magic, but maybe… maybe magic does exist.

  “Do you want to talk about what you saw?” Sapphire Belladonna wraps her arm around my shoulder.

  I shake my head but allow the witch to touch me. “Does the spell ever fail? The future it shows, it is really unshakeable? Unchangeable?”

  “The spell never fails,” Silver Tiger scoffs.

  “Then again, it never works twice for the same person,” I point out, wringing my hands together. “You say I’m magic.”

  “Because you are!” Silver Tiger stomps her foot. “Believe already.”

  I ignore her. “Has there ever been someone like me before?”

  “No,” Sapphire Belladonna whispers. “It never happened before.”

  “What about God? And His Son?” My faith, my beliefs… I’m not ready to give them up yet, but is my very existence incompatible with my religion? If I’m not human, can I one day go to Heaven, or is that road forever closed to me?