Witch Hunt

by L R Deney

  A voice shouted down the hall outside, the leader. “You cannot escape!”

  Staci looked back down the hall. “Fucking watch me.”

  She stepped in through the door then shut it behind her. Turning to face the door, Staci made sudden, rapid movements with her index finger. Astonishingly, three runes, previously unseen, suddenly blinked into view and were slashed across by deep cuts. After that the entire room lurched and creaked before feeling like it was spinning around like some demented amusement park ride. Eventually it came to a sudden halt and Melanie had the strong urge to vomit.

  “Please, not on the carpet, I just cleaned in here.”

  “What the fuck was that?” Melanie groaned.

  “I destroyed the anchor. No matter how hard they try, they can’t follow us here.”

  “So what’s happening now?”

  “We’re drifting through the astral.”

  “Drifting?” Melanie’s eyes widened.

  “Don’t worry, I’m in full control.”

  “What about him?”

  Staci looked up. “Oh yes. Our guest.”

  Suddenly the Nazi fell down to the floor with a grunt, followed by a groan. Staci waved her fingers a few times and the man was abruptly hanging upright. The front door promptly opened, only a black and silver swirling void beyond it.

  “I wonder, will you find your way back home?” Staci asked.

  The Nazi looked at the void with a face filled with terror, unable to speak.

  “I guess there’s only one way to find out. Off you go.”

  The fascist was flung out the door, drifting off into that mysterious astral void. Then the door swung shut. Staci appeared very pleased with herself and looked down at Melanie with a bright smile.

  “Are you hungry? I am. I haven’t eaten well in a while.” And without a further word, she walked off into an adjacent room.

  Chapter 10

  The sanctum drifted through the silvery, black void of the astral plane. Utter silence surrounded it, and it was almost calming to the soul for the two women seated inside of it. Staci’s sanctum would continue to drift through the astral until she found a new anchor for it, and finding a new anchor was never an easy task. One had to scry and scrutinize every potential place and then work the ritual of binding, drawing new runes, focusing their power. It could be exhausting.

  Staci hummed a little as she cut herself a bit of her pork chop and stuffed it in her mouth with her fork.

  “How can you be so calm about this?” Melanie asked, staring at her green beans bleakly. “We’re floating through the magical equivalent of outer space, right?”

  “I’ve done it several times before. It’s really not as big an issue as you think it might be. Only the ritual to anchor us is annoying.”

  “Ah… I see. On that note, you never talk much about your past. In fact, I don’t think you ever have, and I don’t even know your actual age.”

  Staci frowned at Melanie for a moment, several scenarios running through her head. “Let’s just say that I’m much older than I look. But I’ll tell you about my life later. I promise.”

  Melanie eyed her coolly. “You have a lot of pain you don’t show.”

  The witch glanced off to the side. “You really have no idea.”

  “Then why won’t you talk about it? It must weigh heavily on your shoulders.”

  “I will. Just not now. I feel keeping a good attitude and humor about things helps me a lot.”

  “I suppose that’s a good way of self-care.”

  “Yeah, I was once told to stay out of my head, that it’s a bad neighborhood.”

  “Odd, that sounds familiar.”

  Staci shrugged. “I don’t know… maybe it’s something that floats around in therapy groups.”

  They spent the rest of their meal in silence. It was almost deafening as they sat there, eating their food, barely a sound to break it. The peace had passed after the brief conversation and now there was just a strong feeling of anxiety in the air. It was not something Staci felt very often these days.

  Once both plates were empty, the witched wiggled her fingers and the dishes floated up from the table and made their way into the kitchen. From within, the sound of running water and clattering plates signified that the spell she cast was washing them. Melanie looked at Staci a bit enviously.

  “What?” Staci said with a smirk.

  “Just impressed, I guess. You’re full of pleasant surprises.”

  Staci nodded.

  “You consider me your girlfriend?” Melanie asked, returning the smirk.

  Staci looked like she was caught off guard. “One of them, yes. I suppose. I feel very comfortable around you.”

  “Well, I feel the same,” Melanie replied, standing from her chair and wandering over to Staci’s lap and claiming it for herself. “I feel safe with you.”

  They didn’t have to wait long when their lips found each other’s, Melanie’s hands exploring Staci’s shoulders and raven-black hair while the witch held her close. They felt the electricity as their mouths gently moved and popped against each other, tongues occasionally twining, a softly bitten lip there. The inner peace they felt that such joining could have had a mystical quality to it, the warmth of each other’s breath mixing together.

  At some point Staci wound up sitting on top of the table and Melanie explored her collar bone with her lips. Kisses traveled along its length while Staci held her close tightly. A few soft moans escaped Staci’s lips, a hand traveling up to caress the back of Melanie’s head.

  A kiss returned to Staci’s lips. “Here or bedroom?” Melanie asked.

  Staci thought it over carefully. “Well… as you know, I have a very nice bed.”

  She winked.

  Melanie stepped away, allowing Staci space to slide off of the table. The witch gave the younger woman a brief, soft caress of her cheek and turned to lead her out of the large dining room. It could have seated multiple people for a party. Staci rarely hosted parties, but when she did, the space was nice to have.

  The way to the bedroom was a familiar one, Melanie having been there at least once. Staci looked back at her with a pleased smile and reached to grasp her hand. Past the massive bookcases with the occasional flying books that regularly changed shelves, they found themselves in the witch’s bedroom with her large, Gothic, four post bed.

  A gentle smile and a gentle shove, Staci had seen to it that Melanie found herself at home on the bed. The younger woman laughed a bit and offered an inviting motion with her hand. Staci obliged her and climbed on top, planting a few more kisses on Melanie’s lips. A black band shirt found itself flying into a corner, accompanied by a corset that just seemed to pop off. Staci let out an exhale as the tightness around her midsection vanished.

  Staci nibbled and sucked at Melanie’s collar bone, caresses being applied to her wrists and shoulders, the younger woman being the one moaning softly this time around. Legs began twining together, abdomens rubbing against each other. A mesh top and two bras went flying from the bed, adding to the pile of clothes. Two combat boots went “clop, clop” onto the floor followed by a pair of sneakers.

  “So, what do you want, dear?” Staci whispered into Melanie’s ear.

  “Everything you have,” she answered softly back.

  Staci nodded with a devilish smile and traced her fingers down Melanie’s arm. Then the hand jumped to Melanie’s jeans zipper and pulled it down as she chuckled softly. The black jeans soon joined their way to the floor along with the rest of the clothes, leaving the woman only in her knee-socks and panties. Staci’s other hand found itself stroking the inside of Melanie’s bare thigh.

  “How’s that feel, dear?” Staci asked.

  “N-nice,” responded Melanie.

  “Gooood.”

  Staci began stroking her through her panties while she nibbled softly at a nipple and caressed her lover’s side with the other hand. Melanie moaned louder, eyes closing tight as the pleasing sensations started
to grow in their potency.

  The witch then slid the panties’ crotch to the side, allowing her access to Melanie’s sex. It was indistinguishable from a cis woman’s vagina, perfect in every way. Staci smiled a little to herself before gently fingering her, but only for a moment as her nails were long. Then the panties were tugged off as well.

  Pulling off the rest of her clothing, Staci’s skirt, fishnets, and panties came off as well, finalizing the clothing heap in the corner of the room. Her female penis hung mostly flaccid between her legs, and Melanie sat up and reached to help it along in becoming erect. Such a task was often painstakingly long for most trans women, years of hormone replacement having destroyed most of its function. Still, after enough teasing and stroking while they kissed, lying beside each other on the bed, it would respond.

  It was mostly hard, but it still had a flaccid quality to it. Melanie glided her finger underneath the girldick, back and forth along its length between its tip and the empty, shrunken sac behind it. A few more kisses were exchanged while Melanie pleasured Staci, their bodies close and radiating warmth.

  “Are you ready?” Staci asked softly.

  “Yes.”

  Staci nodded and shifted to be on top of Melanie and spread the younger woman’s labia and pressed in, spreading her opening. Then, she carefully slid her girldick into Melanie and began to thrust her hips, gripping her softly by the sides. Melanie let out a moan.

  Just like a cis woman’s, Melanie’s vagina was capable of lubricating, and it was with this that Staci’s thrusts became quicker and easier. Moans and panting filled the room with each pleasurable movement. Staci was virtually joined with Melanie, their bodies practically one with each other. They clung to each other tightly, breasts pressed together between them, feeling each other’s heaving breaths.

  Eventually they both came, their hips spasmed against each other as they cried out in unison. After a few moments of that joined bliss, they were side by side on the bed, holding hands. They shot each other a smile and shared another kiss.

  “That… was amazing,” Melanie said.

  “I aim to please,” Staci replied with a gentle smile.

  Neither was aware how long they had lain there, but eventually the both drifted off into slumber. Their dreams were pleasant for the most part. For the most part….

  ◆◆◆

  Staci’s dreams turned dark later on in her sleep, old traumas returning to her. The blonde with the broken nose started to haunt her all over again. She woke up with a start and sat up. She glanced to the side, seeing Melanie sleeping peacefully beside her, curly red hair messed up on the pillow. She smiled briefly to herself, and then shifted to sit on the edge of the bed.

  Melanie finally woke up and noticed her sitting there and moved over to place her arms around her. Her chin rested on Staci’s shoulder and she held her close. The witch leaned back against her.

  “What’s wrong?” Melanie asked.

  “Just some old memories coming to taunt me.”

  “Staci, I think it’s about time we talk about that. It’s clearly starting to bother you, and it seems related to those strange ‘demonic’ powers you displayed.”

  “Truthfully, indeed, that is part of it.”

  “So what is the whole of it?”

  Staci took in a long, deep breath. “So, there was a time in my life when I wasn’t the thoughtful, caring person that I am now. I used to hold quite a volatile, unpleasant personality. A real chip on my shoulder as it were. Thus it was easy for me to seek out one of the greatest masters of the Dark Arts there ever was, Doctor Stephen Mordo. He took me under his wing immediately, sensing my ambition.

  “Dr. Mordo was a stern, almost abusive teacher. No mistakes or dereliction were tolerated. If I fucked up, I would know about it soon enough in short order. He didn’t even tolerate arguments from me. It was his way and only his way.

  “I brooded many a day under his tutelage. If you think I’m Goth now, it’s nothing compared to the way I was then. Ever the whiny, angry bitch, it was no wonder that friends were nonexistent in my life. Then there got to be a point when I felt Dr. Mordo wasn’t showing me anything new and actually holding something back. I regularly confronted him about it, but each time he rebuffed me. I felt entitled to what he knew. I needed to know.

  “Finally frustrated with his refusal to teach me the rest of what he knew, I—” Staci took in a deep, slow breath “—murdered him.”

  Melanie gasped.

  “Yeah, very much not proud of it. Even back then I was horrified by what I had done. I didn’t even use magic, I just walked up to his side one day, making a last demand of him, and when he refused again and turned away, I pulled out a wire and strangled him to death. He didn’t even see it coming. Then I looked down at his body and screamed out over what I had done. I felt dirty. Vile. After disposing of his body, I took a long shower, probably several hours long, and just stared out into space. I had crossed a line that there was no coming back from.

  “Of course there was an investigation into Dr. Mordo’s disappearance by Azramoan authorities, but I was careful to cover my tracks well enough that even they couldn’t figure out what happened. Nevertheless, I think the Council always suspected me. Shortly thereafter, I figured out why I was so unhappy with life. I think you can guess what.” Staci looked to Melanie wryly and the younger woman smiled and nodded.

  “Anyway, after starting my transition, my personality started taking radical shifts. I started becoming a troublemaker around Azramoas, causing the Council to like me even less. But I was still a disaffected personality that sought more in life, and thus I went looking for ways to gain it. That’s when I traveled to Hell for the first time and met an entity that called herself the Devil, Kadmon.

  “I entered another dark period of my life with Kadmon. She was a sinister and conceited personality, casually abusive and cruel. I essentially found myself turned into her slave at her beck and call. Despite this, she considered me her most ‘loyal’ follower. She had me do despicable things in her name, more things that I am not proud of.”

  “Certainly sounds like the Devil.”

  “Yeah, but such a notion implies the so-called reality of Christian theology, and as someone who’s met the pagan gods, I find it a bit hard to swallow. I think she was making herself out to be something greater than she was, claimed that her broken nose was caused by Michael personally kicking her in the face during ‘the Fall.’ Total bullshit. Hell has no single ruler; it’s a mish mash of every government or lack thereof that you can think of. There’s no evidence any of the inhabitants used to be angels.”

  “But doesn’t the existence of demons prove that alone?”

  “Not really, demons have existed in theological lore long before the Abrahamic religions appeared. They’ve probably existed since the chaos that spawned the multiverse. That said, the last thing Kadmon demanded of me before I escaped her was to find the ‘Crown of Lucifer.’ Now for someone claiming to be the Devil, that sounds pretty silly, right?”

  Melanie nodded. “Yeah. Pure ego.”

  “Exactly. In any case, after I left her, I started focusing on my self-improvement, social justice, and anarchist philosophy. I considered myself free of my past as long as I could better myself and put it all behind me. No more regretful actions, no more Kadmon, no more of what made me a terrible person. I can’t change what I did, but I certainly can try to make the world a much better place than the one that I came into.”

  “So what about these demonic powers you have?”

  Staci sighed. “Kadmon has found me again.”

  Another gasp escaped Melanie. “Found you?”

  “Yeah, while the Council was running a kangaroo court in my honor, a bunch of demons interrupted, declaring that they were sent by Kadmon, that I was her ‘property.’ It was there that one of the demons reactivated the abilities she had given me all that time ago. The abilities that you saw me using.”

  “What does she want? Why is she a
fter you again?”

  “She still wants the Crown of Lucifer. She’s obsessed with it, obsessed with the legend of Lucifer himself. I think she idolizes the character. She’s pretty much harboring narcissistic delusions of grandeur. I’m not a psychologist, but she certainly has an overinflated opinion of herself. If she ever gets this… crown, if it exists, it’ll be a terrible threat to all of existence. Unfortunately, she wants me on her leash again.

  “And I don’t know what to do about it.”

  There was a moment of silence, bleak and solemn.

  “Could you confront her?” Melanie asked.

  “Maybe,” Staci replied. “But she keeps herself well-guarded. Kadmon likes to feel secure and pampered. To be defied invites her wrath… and having seen her wrath….” Staci shuddered.

  “I’m sure we can think of something, of some way that you can escape her again. It can’t be so fatalistic.”

  “I know, and that’s the problem that I’m working on. Between the Nazis and Kadmon, my stress levels are higher than usual. And apparently Azramoas thinks I assassinated the Speaker. I have an alibi of course, but no one on the Council is going to believe an orc.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah, no kidding,” Staci replied with a shrug. “Life brings so many unpleasant surprises. Sometimes I wonder if everything I’m doing is even worth it.”

  “Hey now, Staci,” Melanie said, hugging her close, “stay out of your head, it’s a bad neighborhood.”

  Staci immediately broke out into laughter, holding the other woman close. “Oh, I needed that. Thank you. Yeah, I’ll stay out of my head and I’ll figure out something concerning our dilemmas. One way or another, we’re going to see victory… even if I have to punch every gods damned Nazi in the fucking face.”

  Both of them laughed. Where there was once a depressive cloud, there was now happiness and mirth. There were sure to be victories in the near future, both of them were confident of it now.