Water, fog and blood, let's be wicked.

This is the story of three witches, plus one aloof, rather eccentric other witch. We have definitely evolved from riding brooms. Now we ride the wind, zipping in and out, between space and time, controlling our lives however we please.

Portland, Maine, New England, with it's many lakes, welcome our discreet nightly diversions, they tell no tales. Moosehead Lake, South Twin Lake among others, are in a now more modern version of our State. Sort of our twilight perfected landscape, with a more populous and gentrified half of the population, competing with the less affluence driven, but somehow more caring and loving alter egos of mother nature.

In 1846 Henry David Thoreau wrote about 'The Maine woods'. The unforgiving abundance of unexplored landscape and scenery. Well, remember Salem, 1692, our ancestors. 17th century Salem. We are the descendants, We left there to inhabit these Portland woods in secrecy, while we perfected our art. They never saw us, we existed in our own version of time.

Waiting for the right moment to enact vengeance.

We are ready.

We have decided to visit the wonderfully foggy lakes tonight. There should be something fun and purely evil to occupy our time, besides the alligators and other strange creatures that thrive so very close to this lovely home.

Fortunately for us, we found a raging party happening at the lake house. Maybe we should pay them a visit, unseen, so we can decide what type of fun and ill intent we want to concoct tonight.

So, here we are taking a quick peek in at the well lit interior, the sound of music was colorfully inviting. Strange words for the young ones to be listening to. They had no acquired taste in music, it was just loud and tactlessly obnoxious.

I know that I sound much older than these kids, but we are the same age. I just have an old soul, I feel much more mature and I find most of them particularly childish.

We stood for a moment contemplating whether or not to go in. Over to the left of the lake house was a beautiful storybook picture-perfect bridge. The play of colors on the trees and flowers was really breathtaking in the moonlight. There was lilac, pink and grey, interspersed with the dark of the night. A true witches delight.

This bridge led down to another side of the lake, the safe side, the one the house guests utilized to get here.

The house itself was a built in the style of a log cabin with all of the trappings of a modern day house of glass. It was tastefully beautiful, with a variety of flowers slithering up the walls and windows. A lot of care obviously went into the upkeep of the place.

These people have so much, yet give so little.

It was not our deliberate intent to hurt anyone, especially the young and questioningly innocent among the townspeople. However it would be absolutely delightful to antagonize these rich, spoilt young rabble rousers. Drugs, sex and alcohol were flowing plenteous and freely amongst them.

We know these young ones, they are from the opposite spectrum of our neighborhood. We are the so called, less privileged, but we are the witches.

We are called, Myra, Mona and Moche, the witches three. We walked casually through the front door, and into the large living room area, as if we owned the place. Of course, we were not officially invited, so we expected fireworks.

The queen bitch of the bunch saw us come in, she whispered to her cronies and they walked over to us, all other eyes turned to follow them. This particular queen had a hold on these poor souls that no one understood. We heard that she dug up dirt on all of them, making them practically her slaves. Or, perhaps they were just the empty headed young drones we thought they were. Who knows. From high school to college, same old crap.

I am Myra by the way, your not so friendly witchy narrator. I loathe these privileged selfish brats, always the stereotypical mean, attractive in a viper type of way terror of all schools, everywhere. They always try to make where you are from define who you are.

I have news for them, We are from everywhere, we see everything, we are not defined by an area, by our place of birth or how opulent our home is, or is not. We have tried to open their minds on many occasions to change their ways and become a better version of who they are. They have all laughed in our faces many times in the past.

Except for poor Mitchell, he hates his name by the way, he is, by far, the richest of them all. He is mixed race, half white, half black, and drop dead gorgeous. He was always trying to get my attention. But, I always suspect that he is trying to make a fool of me. I am not really sure, so I tend to avoid him. He once said that he is conflicted about his place with the crowd that he is forced to hang out with. I kind of believed him, but I am still wary of his intentions.

My sisters and I also are mixed up race offspring. I totally understand where he is coming from.

Anyway, queen bee came up to us with her self-satisfied smug plastic smile on her face. "Who invited you again. I don't recall seeing trash welcome, written on the invitation."

I took one step forward, but my sisters held me back. Bee laughed, a self satisfied grating sound.

I am the older of the three witches, the most powerful of us three, witch number four, the one you need to fear, declined to cavort with us tonight.

Bee came close to my face and ordered us to get out. But we did not come here to party. We came to provoke and spread mayhem and maybe spill some rich blood. We were done being nice.

So, I just stood there, daring her to react. Bitch had the temerity to slap my face.

I closed my fist, she grabbed her throat, my hand went up and she was glued tight to the ceiling. Mona pointed to the music and it went full blast. No one would hear their screams.

Everyone gasped. They turned to run. Moche gestured and all the doors locked themselves.

Suddenly, the locked front double doors flew open. Elena flew in. She always somehow knew when we were in trouble or making trouble. The doors again locked themselves.

"Who touched my baby sister." she roared. I really think that I am her favorite younger sister, though I must mention that she was a tad over protecting.

Whenever Elena was angry, her eyes became pointed lights of fury, with dangerous dances of colors making her seem particularly devilish and scary.

Every index finger in the joint, as the gangsters would say, pointed upwards. Elena gestured and Bee fell, quite unladylike, to the floor. She screamed in pain.

"Are you all going to allow this group of scum to take advantage of us, go beat the hell out of them, kill them" she yelled, her otherwise pretty face was twisted in both anger and pain. Her makeup was dripping down her face with the tears and matted hair, exposing her true nature.

I guess they all missed the memo where witchlike powers were being exercised in plain sight for all to see. Except for Mitchell, he quietly detached himself from the group, and faded into the back of the room. I observed this in amusement, as they all rushed forward to obey their esteemed leader.

Elena, she didn't necessarily need to make gestures. She just moved her head in a tiny gentle twist and we all heard bones cracking. Hands, crack! feet, crack! crack! crack!

It was an awful sound. They were all screaming in pain. The musicians turned to run out the back, I guess forgetting the locked doors. The curtains burst into flames near them, that was Mona, the arsonist, she loved fire. Crack! crack! went their bones. Elena missed nothing, she was all seeing.

Moche was the masochist, she was checking to make sure everyone had broken bones or something that hurt really badly.

The fire started to spread throughout the rest of the house. The entire walls around us were ablaze. We were trapped in the middle. All were coughing. Except us of course, we are witches. I gestured towards Mitchell and brought him closer to me, magically, of course. I did my best to keep him from the mayhem being unleashed.

Elena turned to look at me, questioning my decision. I nodded my ok, she accepted. I was relieved, it could have gone either way. Hell hath no fury like a pissed off Elena.

Now the fire was on their clothes and they screamed even louder. "Let us out."

Elena, she loathed these brats even more than the rest of us. She opened the front door, and the mass of young bodies, forgetting the alligators and piranhas in the river slash lake, headed in a straight line for it's cool open arms.

They were burning and irrational. Moving much like zombies, on account of the many broken bones, and obviously forgetting the pain of broken bones over burning to death, they ran lopsided towards the water.

Actually, we all thought that they would be running to the beach side of the lake, where their fancy boats and yachts were moored. Minus alligators and unfriendly creatures. It was like five minutes away. I guess the urgency of the situation rendered their ability to think completely non existent.

They all dove into the welcoming cool of the river, and the open jaws of the gators.

So much blood. Everywhere. Chomp, chomp, went the jaws of the horrid, always hungry it would seem, creatures. So much screaming. So much blood. The funny looking fish could be seen jumping up and down in the water, as if really happy to see new visitors to their home.

We watched, mesmerized and fascinated by the delicious sight, a true witches sacrifice. And it was all done on a voluntary basis. No coercion at all necessary.

We are so absolutely wicked.

The lake house burnt all the way to ashes.

The denizens of the deep were well fed.

The foul mouthed selfish brats were now river nymphs, hopefully they learned their lessons and are now model citizens of the underworld waters.

Hey, I saved Mitchell.

Could we have saved all the others? Maybe. Are we as bad as the young people that we disliked? Maybe.

Did we have fun tonight? Maybe. Are we repentant? Maybe.

We all went home and had a really good night's sleep.

The next morning saw us all by the lake, the distraught parents and families had converged to find out what had happened.

I always wondered why these rich people built such a lovely beach home by a lake full of dangerous creatures. There is no accounting for taste. Maybe we all have a touch of the masochist within us. Maybe they wanted their spoiled children to get eaten. I doubt that, but I am just saying, it was a really silly thing to do.

I wanted to feel pity for the families. I did. But my cold evil heart could or would not churn up that emotion. I will keep trying to reach deep down to find some pity, on account that I too have parents, and may be a parent some day. Hope I bring up better offspring if ever that should happen. Not looking forward to that happening.

So here we are innocently surveying the scene, we have to be here to determine the results of the investigation, the witches three needed to know the outcome of the previous night's melee. Elena would not dignify this gathering with her presence. She sent us to investigate and report back to her.

I saw Mitchell talking to the authorities. He walked over afterwards to speak to me. My sisters gave us space. They knew all about our game of mistrust and hide and go seek.

As the only survivor of the unfortunate debacle, he had a choice, Suffer the same, or similar fate, or keep his mouth shut. I did not say this to his face, that was not really the way to start a tentative relationship. I was hoping there would still be one. The thought was just an unspoken determination of all our combined fates.

After all, who was going to believe that the witches did it. In this modern age there are no witches. If you insist with your ridiculous witch theory, you may end up in a straight jacket in a mental institution.

Ahhh, the modern age. One step forward and one step backward.

"I told them that I was on my way home from the party, when I saw the fire. They did have some drug paraphernalia and some dangerous equipment that could have started a fire, and most of them were probably drunk anyway. I ran back just in time to see them all dive into the river, they were on fire, apparently the doors jammed or something, and they couldn't get out. I was too late to stop them, and remind them of the gators in the water. They were way past reason by that point to listen to anyone. It was all so sad." He actually said all that with a straight face.

Wickedness was in him after all, or maybe not, Maybe he would just balance me out. I hoped.

I tried very hard not to burst out laughing. That would have been in poor taste considering the whole situation.

He had called in the unfortunate accident to the authorities after the whole jumping into the river obvious juvenile fiasco and mistake.

"I feel so bad about the whole situation. But who would believe me. Witches for goodness sakes, modern day witches. This is all so fascinating. You have got to go on a date with me now. I want to know all about it. Does it seem wicked that I am even more attracted to you now, much more than before? Are we all wicked. Let's be wicked together."

Well, why not. By now I am pretty sure where his allegiance lies. No more second guessing his intentions. Besides, now he knows, and obviously accepts that I can and will, do witchy things to him, if he ever messes with me.

And also be aware of alligators accompanied by flesh eating fish, I would add to my sign.

Pssst! A little secret.

My cousins, Darcia and Dorothea, together with their now best friend, Maryanna, came and got all these new additions to the lake family. They are all now a part of wicked Dorothea's collection of playthings. Their lake is just across the way from here. The kids are more than welcome to go visit their families from time to time. Just as long as they remember to return to our cousin's watery fun home when they were done.

It is your life long home if you moved in there, whether voluntarily or not.

Those young ones will have forever to terrorize whomever they please, wherever and whenever they fancy anyone deserves some mostly ghostly hauntings. Dorothea would be their tutor. They would be great at what they love to do best. Be evil.

So, you see. Everyone sort of got what they wanted. We are all going to pop over to Lake Ghostly later to see what the cousins and friends are planning for more fun and enjoyment.

I am having the best day ever.