This Witch is Back

Disclaimer: The following story depicts scenes of fictional witchcraft, violence, death, and coarse language. Reader discretion is advised.

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From below, I watched the sun as it set over the ruined temple in the forest of Esimed. It was the night of the summer solstice and a full moon crested over the horizon. My blood chilled in delight as I watched a coven of young witches in their black ceremony robes emerge through the trees. 

They formed a circle around a ruined altar that belonged to the long since destroyed temple. Each member raised her hands above her head and chanted:

“Rise alter of the moon.

On the solstice of June.

A sacrifice we willingly make.

A sacrifice for our coven’s sake.

Arise and fulfil our purpose.

Arise and be at our service.”

The collapsed altar in the middle reformed itself and basins of flames burst into life alongside it. As the sun finished setting, the forest around them darkened and the moon rose into the sky, transforming it into hues of dark purple. The strawberry moon bloomed with a blood-red glow and hung over the forest like a malevolent guardian of the night.

The coven leader approached the altar, and all fell silent. She lowered her hood and spoke to the gathered witches around her. “Sisters, tonight is a sacred night. The Summer Solstice is upon us!” An exclamation of excitement from the coven met her call. “Made even more unholy with the presence of the Strawberry, Blood Moon.” She added, and the flames beside the altar burst with a surge of power as the surrounding witches cheered once more. “Tonight we will make a sacrifice, trading a soul for a soul to resurrect The Queen of Darkness.” She explained, and another roar of approval came from her coven.

A commotion broke out on the sideline, which pulled my focus away from the coven leader.

Two large hooded witches drug another forward. She was bound at the wrists and ankles as they flopped her upon the ground, before the altar.

“Sisters, please.” The bound witch begged in a ragged voice of desperation. “Please, don’t do this.” She called, her pale eyes roved over each coven member in search of a saviour.

“Prop her up. I must collect her blood.” The coven leader demanded as she produced a large knife from within her robe and readied herself to complete the deed.

“No, please. Sisters, please.” The bound witch continued to beg, her pale eyes wide in terror.

“For your betrayal, we have sealed your fate. But we will not waste your sacrifice as we trade your soul for the chosen one.” She then called upon a witch holding an empty basin and had her kneel below the sacrifice, ready for the collection.

The coven leader held the knife high above her head as it gleamed in the crimson glow of the strawberry blood moon. Then she slowly lowered it and plunged the knife into the sacrifice’s abdomen.

As the knife was withdrawn and plunged back into her several more times, the sacrifice cried out in pain.

Blood bubbled from her lips and more of it dripped from where the knife was withdrawn for the last time. It trickled into the collection bowl below, while the leader cleaned her knife on the sacrifice’s robe.

The three assisting witches released their captive and she fell to the forest floor in a thud. Then presented their leader with the basin of sacrificial blood.

“Thank you, sisters,” she bellowed and accepted the basin. “Repeat after me.” She instructed as she dipped her fingers into the basin and wrote an unseen message upon the altar, in blood.

“Queen of Darkness, hear our call.

Lead us, strongest witch of all. 

Our Queen may now return.

From you, we seek to learn.

Join us to make thirteen.

Arise as our Evil Queen.”

Flames alongside the altar erupted and shot skyward in a burst of malevolent power, then the scene fell into complete darkness.

Suddenly, I found myself on top of the altar, bathed in the crimson glow of the strawberry blood moon. A surge of energy coursed through my veins as I looked down at the awestruck coven leader beneath me.

“You summoned?” I inquired with a velvety voice so smooth it chilled even my bones.

“Queen of Darkness, we need you.” The coven leader spoke in a shaking voice as she knelt before me and motioned for the rest of the coven to follow suit.

“In what way?” I asked. A ravenous smile spread across my luscious lips and I hooked my dark brow upward in curiosity.

“We seek your leadership. Having made a sacrifice of our sister, we hoped you would join us and make our coven thirteen once more.” She explained, her eyes alight in admiration as she looked up at me.

A manic chuckle escaped my lips as I took in the desperate scene around me.

A coven for me to command, should I accept. Unfortunately, that just wouldn’t do.

“I’m sorry to say that the price you paid for my soul isn’t enough,” I explained and licked my lips in hungry anticipation. Then a cruel smile crept across them as I waited for her to ask the question.

“What more can we offer?” The coven leader asked, her eyes wide with desperation.

“A few more souls are required.” I purred and bit down on my lower lip as a tingle of pleasure vibrated through my body. I hummed to myself in lust as my powers continued to grow and pulsated through every fibre of my being. Thanks to the strawberry, blood-red moon above.

I’d forgotten how good it felt to be in my favourite body again. To set foot upon this cruel world, once more and have it completely at my mercy.

“How many more?” The coven leader whispered. Her fearful gaze flickered from me to her coven around us.

“Oh,” I hummed, “about twelve more should do.” I sighed and with a flick of my wrist, twelve necks snapped in melodious unison. Then, with an earth-shattering thud, their corpses hit the forest floor in one more act of unity.

With a sigh of satisfaction, I stepped off of the altar and over the coven leader’s body. Then turned to see what she’d written on the altar before I’d appeared upon it.

Sabrina was etched in blood.

“Ugh, how mundane.” I sighed as I stripped the leader of her cloak and tossed it over my shoulders before I disappeared into the night.

For more stories starring our lovely Sabrina, please check out some of her other adventures:

The Witch of Strasboroug: Her origin story.

A Trade: The creation of werewolves and the downfall of her greatest enemies.

A Devil in the Making: The creation of the Jersey Devil, her offspring after a run-in with the devil himself.

To Hell and Back: Another coven learns not to summon her, thanks to Sam, himself.

Author’s Note:

This story is inspired by the cover photo, taken by DK Shepard and is an entry for Mackenzie’s Ekphrastic Challenge Part 2.

Thank you for reading,

- Donna Fox (HKB)