To Hell and Back

Disclaimer: This story may be disturbing to some readers, it contains scenes with Devil worship, sexual content and violence. Reader discretion is advised!

“Gnirb reh ereh, emoc ot su tsetaerg hctiw fo eht tsap.” Voices chanted together, humming in unison.

I looked around for the source but scoffed at the annoyance as I realized what was happening.

“Emoc ot su, emoc Sabrina eht lanigiro hctiw fo eht tsew. Ew llac nopu eeht dna nommus uoy won.” Their monotonous voices ended in a simultaneous hum.

I watched as my hands began to dissipate before my eyes. My body felt like millions of needles were pricking my skin, which was not the sensation I expected from this end of an evocation.

Then with a popping sound like that of a cork being evicted from a champagne bottle split, I suddenly found myself in the middle of a dark room. Standing at the centre of a devil’s trap, candles flickered at the edge and I found myself surrounded by the most foolish coven of witches I’ve ever met.

I’m not a demon, which is what made the evocation even more intriguing to me. I wondered how they could summon me. But now was not the time to wonder about that, I had more pressing concerns. Like which mortal body I had inhabited now that I was once again earthbound.

“You there, I need a mirror,” I commanded, pointing a long finger at the fool in front of me.

A compact the size of my palm slid to my feet from the shadows. Immediately I scooped it up and appraised myself, grateful to see the high cheekbones and emerald green eyes of my last body. The one I died in.

Pleased with it, I adjusted my dark locks and closed the compact with a smile of satisfaction.

My hands explored the sultry curves of my reclaimed body until I reached my chest and found the bullet wound that ended my time on Earth.

Rage boiled inside me as I cursed the hunter who left the mark and ruined such an exquisite figure.

It was at that moment that I remembered I had an audience. So with a sigh of disdain, I regained my composure and surveyed the shadowy room in curiosity. I intended to find the ring leader of the clown show and return to my rightful place.

My eyes landed on a tall figure standing behind the idiots who knelt at the edge of the circle. “Why am I here?” I inquired, with a sharp voice as I narrowed my eyes at the lead idiot.

Who stepped forward, bathing himself in flicker candlelight. “My name is Brutus, leader of the North Valley Coven.” He explained as he puffed his chest in pride.

I scoffed, outwardly. Of course, this was a dimwitted warlock’s idea, I thought to myself.

“Look Brutus, I don’t how or why-“

“Silence witch, you are at my mercy.” He bellowed in what he thought was a threatening voice.

A snicker of excitement escaped my lips as I watched him with intrigue. Thinking how much fun it was going to be when Sam saw I was missing and showed up here.

“We have summoned you Sabrina, original witch of the west, to help us with attaining something only you have.” He explained in a theatrical sort of voice.

“Yeah, I don’t help people who summon me like some lowly demon. So if you don’t mind I’ll be going now.” I explained, walking towards the first door I saw but was stopped by some unseen barrier at the edge of the devil’s trap.

“What the f-“

“You see this is no ordinary devil’s trap, this is one for those of a higher power.” Brutus the bonehead explained in his theatrical voice again, from the opposite side of the trap from me.

Full of rage I charged at him, my heels clicked every step of the way.

“You’re making a mistake-“

“Your choice is either to help us or we will send you back to the depths of Hell.” Brutus threatened.

“Then send me back, I’m not a charity service.” I snapped.

Without a word Brutus the bungler snapped his fingers and the coven around him began to chant a new spell.

The words to which fell on deaf ears as the second his snap cleared the air my chest felt like it had been hit by that same, holy water and salt bullet from years ago. I felt a mixture of bile and blood gurgling in my throat, accompanied by the burning and sizzling sound of the bullet boiling on my skin.

Unable to fight the pain I collapsed on the floor and blood dripped from my mouth, painting the floor beneath me.

Just as suddenly as it started, the pain and suffering ended.

I found myself breathing copper-flavoured air instead of choking on my blood again.

A silence rang in my ears as I scowled at my captor, ready to wreak havoc on his miserable soul.

“Are you ready to cooperate?” He asked, looming over me from his side of the trap.

“I don’t serve cowards that hide behind traps and enchantments,” I growled, spitting a pink-hued gob at his feet.

“Then we shall wait for your master.” He stated, still watching me with shadowed eyes.

“I have no master,” I replied in an air of defiance, getting up to stare Brutus in the eyes.

“We all serve him, whether you acknowledge or not and I think he will come for his most favourite servant.” Brutus taunted, his eyes glowered hungrily at me as a sinister smile tucked itself in the corner of his lips.

I sighed and rolled my eyes, “That’s a mistake. He won’t be doing you any favours on my account.” I said with an ominous chuckle.

“Then I'll imagine what a reward he will gift us when I present him with you.” He countered, still holding an air of superiority about him.

I laughed to myself in disbelief at this man’s arrogance.

“If only you knew what he had in store for you,” I muttered with a smirk, watching as his confidence began to fade and his smile twitched into a scowl.

“Surely you are worth something to him. After all, he’s given you, the gift of creating different forms of life and even being the mother of his child.” He offered the arrogance in his gaze turned to fear.

“It’s not about what I’m worth but more about the price you’ll pay for kidnapping the Queen of Hell,” I revealed in excitement, eager for Sam’s appearance.

“What do you mean?” He inquired with a shaking voice and fear in his eyes.

Then with a popping sound like the one that brought me here, he appeared just behind Brutus.

With a shink sound like a sword being unsheathed, a long blade protruded out of Brutus’ abdomen.

He looked up in horrified shock and fell to the ground once the blade was removed.

The room erupted into pandemonium, the rest of his coven shrieked in terror as they rose to their feet and ran around wildly.

I watched as their exit was sealed shut by the power of Sam, he then executed every one of them. Even as some of them begged for mercy, he only laughed in their faces and killed them slower, enjoying his game of cat and mice.

This continued until the dark room with littered with bodies, no one but myself and Sam remained.

With ragged excited breaths, Sam smiled at his corpse-covered battlefield before turning his gaze upon me.

“How dare you use these mortals to help you escape.” He growled, blood dripping in a trail with each step he took towards me.

My heart palpated in anticipation, my breath was caught in my throat. I licked my lips hungrily at the sight of him standing at the edge of the trap, only inches in front of me.

“I didn’t ask them-“

“I thought you were happy down there with me.” He whispered in a hurt voice, his eyes held a look of betrayal. I watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed the pain with a look of anguish.

“I am happy with you. I don’t want to be here.” I explained and attempted to reach for his hand. But felt the invisible barrier at the edge of the devil’s trap block me.

“Life without you life would be unbearable and an afterlife without you would simply be unspeakable,” I muttered, hurt that he could ever think I would want to leave his side.

He snapped his fingers and I expected my world to fall into darkness with the pain of my neck breaking. But instead a minor tremor rumbled the ground beneath our feet and a crack disturbed the devil’s trap.

I felt a weight lifted from my body and stepped out of the sigil.

Immediately he grabbed me in his rough hands and pressed his lips against mine. Together we became entwined in a fit of very adulterated passion that would put even the worst of sinners to shame.

A Note from The Author:

This is another instalment to my Sabrina the Witch series. For previous instalments:

The Witch of Strasbourg

A Trade

A Devil in the Making

I will advise that these stories are disturbing and disclaimers should be read as some scenes contain triggering content! I do not wish to disturb or trigger my readers and only seek to create content you will find enjoyable! Reader discretion is strongly advised.