Fiendishly Consumed

The air around me is charged in anticipation of my meeting with the demonic witch. As I continue along the trail of the ancient murderess, I sniff the air for her familiar odor and almost gag at the pungent aroma of her scent. Bodies lay where they had fallen as she plunged through the crowds of people, leaving more dead than alive in her wake. Sensing that I am closer to her than I have been in ages, I dive deeper into this sleepless city, eager for the hunt to be finished.

Entering a deserted side street, I notice the word CROATOAN carved into the hood of a red Prius, further proving that I am closing in on the enchantress. Pausing in confusion, I glanced around, unsure of which direction she had gone which was her aim. This was not the first time I had come upon this word and empty streets, chasing the sorceress, and seeing it all now brought back memories of that time.

I’d just traveled to this New World, the Americas, chasing after the evil demoness. She’d boarded an earlier ship than I had, and I was months behind her. Landing on the islands off the Carolinas, I joined a party of settlers traveling towards their outpost. Among this group was John White, the governor of the settlement we were headed to who was returning after spending time in England procuring supplies for the colony.

We had traveled only approximately four miles when we came upon a pin oak with the word CROATOAN carved deep into its bark. Underneath the word was a strange symbol belonging to another era and different continent. Chills traveled along my spine as I continued with the settlers wondering what we would find left of their colony.

The trail we followed was no wider than a deer footpath, and I had commented to the newly appointed governor how odd it was that no trail had been made for larger animals to traverse through the dense foliage. He had grunted and pushed his men harder through the overgrown undergrowth, cutting a wider path as we went. In less than a mile, although seeming much longer, we had come upon the palisades around the settlement.

What was found were gates hanging askew, with no one manning them. Not a soul was in the public square around the town well. Each cabin stood ready for the family’s noon-day meal, with molded food upon the plates. There was no one inside the village, it was completely barren of people and livestock. The only thing left was their belongings and the meager supplies the colonists had managed to scavenge from the landscape around the settlement.

Ever since I had seen the dreaded word carved into the tree, I had a premonition we would find something macabre in the settlement. Even I wasn’t expecting what we found. I could see Governor White was lost as to what had happened to his people. There was speculation among the group that the colonists had joined the local native peoples for them to survive the hard winter, and they’d left a clue by carving CROATOAN in the pin oak.

I knew better though. I could smell the enchantress all over the small settlement. Her mark was left throughout the colony, for all to see who knew what to look for. A taint was cast on what remained of the village, a stain that could only be stemmed from the witch’s evil.

Now, in this modern day, I walk through a city square devoid of all life, just as I did those centuries ago. I’m none the wiser now than I was then as to why she must absorb all life around her when she feels me closing in on her. I can only assume the sorceress feels threatened by my continued presence dogging her heels, and this strange act is a last-ditch effort to throw me off her tracks.

Unlike in the late 1600s, I am not as easily fooled by her antics. I have learned that her kind carries a distinct sickly, sweet, rotting almond scent, unlike any odor I have ever smelt. Either my nose has grown attuned to this aroma or she is getting riper, for as the years have passed, I’ve been able to pick up her stench in a crowded room. Now, I use the ability I have honed over the last two millennium, and I set off to complete this hunt of my mortal enemy,

Offering thanks for the blessing of perseverance the Morrigan had bestowed on me in this chase, I then asked for her protection and strength. As I walked, I ate a basil barley cake, while chewing on a bay leaf. Feeling rejuvenated, I could feel the Morrigan’s favor on me and knew that before the day was out, the meeting between the demonic witch and I would be taking place.