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The Continuing Adventures of Draco Moonbeam

Chapter 2, Section 3: The Witching Hour

By John MarkhamPublished 2 years ago 8 min read
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The Continuing Adventures of Draco Moonbeam
Photo by Robert Lukeman on Unsplash

Draco woke up with a slight headache. His temples throbbed. Insomnia was frequent with him and sometimes cut his rest way too short. And the headache didn’t help.

It was probably past midnight. All was dark except for some moonlight that peeked through a small window in the loft.

He turned to look at Hank. His bed was empty. The sheets and blankets were pushed aside. His boots were there along with his coat and pack. Draco thought that Hank must’ve had to use the outhouse.

So Draco tried to sleep again.

But the howl of a dog not far away brought him back to his senses.

Then, Draco heard what sounded like a man’s muffled shout. Someone tried to yell but couldn’t get his voice out.

Draco sat up. The sounds of some kind of struggle could be heard outside but not too far away.

He quickly put on his boots and went down the ladder. Anda’s door was open, and it was obvious that no one was inside.

Draco went outside and listened for the noise. He thought he heard a woman’s voice. It sounded like Hannah’s. It came from beyond the barn. The dogs were barking, too.

Cautiously, he made his way to the edge of the barn. Trying not to make much noise he slipped around the side. Behind the barn all noise suddenly stopped.

He was just clearing the back corner of the barn when something hard hit him on the head.

Draco immediately blacked out.

When he came to, his head hurt much more. But now it was the back of his head with a goose egg. His hands were tied behind his back, and a gag was tied to his mouth, making him drool uncontrollably.

He was tied to a post. His hands were behind it. He tried to pull free, but the bonds were tight.

He was at the edge of a small depression of land. A bowl shaped clearing devoid of trees. The barn was several feet behind him.

In front of him was a large pile of white rocks and sticks with a stone slab across the top. A crude altar.

Behind the altar stood Hannah, naked in the moonlight. The shadows marked her curves. Her red hair looked pale in the light of the moon.

Lying on top of the altar was Hank. He was gagged and bound hand and foot and tied down to the altar. He struggled a bit but couldn't seem to get free.

Draco heard Hannah say out loud, "If you would've put enough of the serum in the stew, he wouldn't have woken up. Now we have to deal with his friend, too!"

Tania hissed, "I put in plenty! He should have slept for two days!"

Draco couldn't see Tania. She was somewhere behind him. But not too close.

"I'll deal with him later!" Hannah said in a low voice.

The two dogs came around in front of Draco. In the moonlight they looked fiercer, perhaps with wolf breeding. They looked at him warily as they paced in front of him.

Anda then appeared in Draco's line of sight. He carried a club of heavy wood. Probably that was what gave Draco such a nasty headache. Anda seemed quiet. He didn't say anything, and he didn't show any emotion.

Tania then walked from behind Draco towards the altar. She was also nude. She carried a large knife, about two feet long, a short sword. She approached Hannah and held out the knife with both hands palm up. Hannah took it.

Both women then stood at the altar on opposite sides of Hank and began a chant using words that Draco did not recognize. As he looked again, he could make out that the white sticks and rocks beneath the white slab were composed of bones and skulls. Human skulls. There must have been enough to create twenty to thirty full sets of skeletons.

The women were swaying as they chanted. Their arms were in the air above them. Hannah held the knife aloft in one hand. The moonlight gleamed from the silvery shaft.

Their unclothed bodies would under other circumstances be quite mesmerizing. But Draco was too repulsed to even consider it.

Sensing that he would have to act quickly, Draco began to struggle against the bonds that held his hands. They were tight and didn't slacken at all.

With the gag on his mouth, Draco was limited in his choice of spells. Most required some verbal component in addition to hand movements. He quickly thought of what he might do without moving his hands or speaking.

The women chanted in unison. Their voices created an eerie song that seemed hypnotic and yet threatening.

Draco thought of one spell that didn't require hand movements. But it did require speech. So he began a quiet muffled chant of his own. The gag held his tongue but he clumsily formed the words. "Manos a fuego." He focused on the thought.

The dogs began to growl menacingly, but the women were too focused on their own spell to notice. Anda didn't move, or even blink.

After about fifteen seconds, Draco's hands began to burn. The heat was not uncomfortable to Draco. His spell caused them to become red hot. Within seconds he could smell the smoke coming from the rope as his hands burned them.

Hannah brought her hands together, grasping the knife firmly with both hands.

As the rope burned through and Draco's hands fell free, Hannah and Tania both screamed as Hannah brought the knife down into Hank's chest. He convulsed but didn't shout. Then she drew the knife under Hank's chin from ear to ear as blood gushed out from the wound.

Draco began pulling the gag off his mouth as he pulled away from the post that had held him captive.

Both women leaned over Hank and began to suck up the warm spurts of life force that exited him as he lay dying.

Draco shouted and began a spell. Circling his right hand over his head while moving his fingers as if he was playing an invisible piano, he spoke the words, "Relámpago volante!" He pointed at the women, and lightning shot from his fingertips into both women.

Tania immediately fell over motionless, a large burn mark over her breasts. Immediately her figure morphed into that of a an elderly woman, naked and wrinkled, with blood on her face.

Hannah was thrown backwards from the altar. She got up, her face red from blood, the knife in her hands. She stared at Draco while she shouted a command to the dogs in an unknown language.

Both dogs leaped at Draco. He waved his hand in the air again and repeated, "Relámpago volante!" This time lightning flew from his fingertips into both dogs, immediately killing them, the smell of burning fur and flesh filling the air.

Hannah snarled and shouted something at Draco. Immediately his voice left him, and he was mute.

So much for his spells.

He charged her, grappling with her hands and arms to prevent her from stabbing him. She tried to say something, but Draco head butted her, breaking up her next spell. His headache grew worse, but he didn't care.

She struggled against his strength. Draco twisted her arm and wrenched the knife away. Hannah tried to bite him in the neck. He kneed her in the belly, making her double over.

Then Draco pushed the knife into her stomach.

Hannah stopped fighting. Draco pulled out the knife and stabbed her again, this time in the chest. She stumbled back, away from Draco. Draco raised the knife once more and brought it down into her chest again. She fell over motionless. Her red hair turned white, and wrinkled skin covered her body, her face aging instantly.

Draco stooped over to catch his breath. His voice returned, and suddenly he could hear himself muttering, "Damned witches!"

Anda then seemed to wake up from his trance. He looked at the lifeless hags, the dogs and Hank. All dead.

"Wow. Thank you, Mr. Draco!"

"It's all right," gasped Draco.

Anda continued explaining, "I’m sorry. I could see and hear everything, but it was like I could feel nothing. Somebody else moved me like a puppet on strings. I had no control over what I did. I'm sorry if I hurt you."

Draco said again, "It's all right now. I'm sorry about your daughters."

Anda said, "You know they weren't my daughters. They moved in with me about fifteen years ago. They're much older than they appeared. Older than me, I think. They made me bring them folks who wouldn't be missed, the traveling merchant, the lone adventurer. And they ate them! I couldn't help it."

Draco's stomach turned as he thought about the stew. He threw up uncontrollably.

"But now I'm free, Mr. Draco."

Draco stood up on weak legs and escorted the old gentleman back to his little farmhouse.

They stayed up until dawn, talking.

As the sun rose above the meadows, Draco told his host that he was leaving.

Before he left, he went with Anda behind the barn to the bowl shaped clearing where lay the scene of carnage. Using an elemental spell to move earth, he created a deep hole under the altar. The bodies were laid into the pit: the witches, Hank Dreason, the dogs, and the remains of the many previous victims. Using the same spell, Draco covered up the pit with dirt and filled it in until not a trace was visible except for a patch of ground without grass on it.

Elemental spells were not his specialty. And this one was one of the very few he knew. But it helped him clear up everything in less than 30 minutes. Anda thanked him for staying long enough to destroy the macabre memories.

Then Anda Brink drove him to the next town, several miles away, where Draco found a small inn. There he got a room, and went to sleep in broad daylight, nursing a nasty headache.

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About the Creator

John Markham

I’m an amateur at writing. I began writing fiction/fantasy as well as poetry as a teenager.

My current stories are about a wizard from Earth named Draco Moonbeam on a clandestine mission in the White Kingdom on the planet Gaia.

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