Chapter 14: Chapter 14: The Coven

The night was still clear, full moon heavy overhead, bright enough I could see even without the towering bonfire fifty feet for me. I wrestled with my tripod, grumbling that none of Zephira's little chattering, self-centered witches had been willing to schlep gear for me. In fact, they pretty much ignored me when they gathered in the parking lot, pulling their own things from the trunks of parked cars, giggling and carrying on. I guess they had their hands full with their giant headdresses and heavy capes and oh wait, was that a massive cooler of beer? Three of them? Six totes full of firewood? Oh, and a baggie of drugs that the youngest dangled in front of the man with the beard before swaying her hips seductively.

Marvelous.

Maybe they'd share later.

They'd started dancing after the fire was lit, lost in the shadows and backlit by the flames, about a dozen middle-aged professionals looking to blow off steam from what I could tell. Most of them were already half lit themselves. I could see from their staggering and hear from their howling and growling and mumbling of odd words that I'm pretty sure were made up that they had been imbibing before they even came to this ritual. Well, good on them. I hoped they were having fun. This was going to make an excellent addition to my film. Hell, I could probably turn this into a film all of its own if things got interesting enough.

I was contemplating an artful short, something that could make the rounds at the festivals without too much effort, when I flipped on the camera and checked the viewfinder.

And realized if this was going to be a singular project, a standalone piece, there was a very good chance it was going to end up a porno.

Because, wait, the guy with the beard. Wasn't he...? Oh my god. His robe. His pale, soft flesh. Fabric hit the ground as he gyrated to the dancing fire.

I stood stark upright staring at the bonfire, at the robes being discarded left right and center, at the naked people etched with designs in black paint and carrying wands and staffs with their headdresses on, spinning and turning and crying out with the calls of the animals they represented. And-

OH MY GOD.

Now I needed to scrub out my brain with something far stronger than beer.

Before I burst into my own flames of shock and overwhelm, Zephira blocked the view, fortunately still robed herself-if loosely, the ties in the front displaying far more than was necessary in my opinion. She swayed toward me, staggering as she came, tripping over her own bare feet. Her massive black curls piled high like a headdress, jewelry clanking on a bottle of wine in one hand a massive, twisted grin on her face. I focused intently on her so I wouldn't have to look at the naked flesh exposed beyond her, sagging and wrinkled, bulbous and... the horror. Not that I had anything against nakedness or other people's bodies. But, come on. Some things were meant to be private. And I realized in that moment just how big a prude I actually was.

Just. No.

When she reached me, she leaned into me, tripping at the last moment, catching herself on my shoulder just as she bent forward and threw up. Almost delicately. All over my right shoe.

This was exactly how I wanted my night to go.

Zephira stood up straight again, wiping at her mouth with the back of one hand, a coquettish smile on her face. As if what she'd done was somehow endearing and attractive. "You see now, darling! You see the power of true witches."

Did I ever. "Getting staggeringly wasted and having an orgy. Gotcha." Yes, those were orgy sounds coming from the fire as the assemblage no longer circled the flames but lay beside it, without even the decency to pull their robes over their humping.

I gagged and tried to swallow.

No. I was not looking. No, no I was not. And I would have to delete the footage and possibly set fire to the camera, rental or not, and everything associated with tonight-including my poor, puke covered shoe-and never, ever, ever think of it again.

Zephira bent over and threw up one more time, for full coverage, I was sure of it. Because she nailed my left shoe this time. ""Scuse me."

I glanced down, back up. "Unbelievable." The story of my life.

She backed away from me, gesturing with her wine bottle, giving me a clear view of her gathered people once more. Some of them had finished already and I could only imagine how disappointing that experience had to be. Except the humor in that thought was burned away by the image of them rising, looking for other partners, bumping into each other, one retching into the fire before kissing her partner. Gag. That view would be burned into my brain for the rest of my life. "Come," Zephira said. "Come join us."

She didn't wait for me to go with her, instead spinning and joining the party. I hefted my camera from the tripod and turned it toward me, doing my best to hide my need to add my own dinner to the remains on my shoes, dug deep for some sarcasm and the kind of detachment that I needed to keep myself together. Found it as I stared into the lens and felt my disgust and anger grow, against Zephira, her people and, most of all, irrationally, the Lovely Witches Club. For letting me get my ass into this mess in the first place.

Totally their fault.

When I spoke to posterity, it was with disdain. "No shocker here. This is all bunk. Lies and fake magic piled higher than a red cliff at sunset. A chance to get loaded and high and have sex with each other's partners. Ew, really? Not to mention luring other people into the same ridiculous attempt to pretend they are something supernatural."

Someone laughed and then moaned and then laughed hysterically. I turned to put my camera away, forgetting it was still on, just as Zephira called out.

"Come, my witches! Let us summon the power of the moon and the earth. The goddess herself smiles on us." She turned and beckoned to me to come to her. "Join us, Reese! Embrace your inner magic!"

I clutched my camera to me, holding it so tightly to my shoulder I was sure it would become part of me in short order. There was no way they were tearing it away from me. They'd have to remove it from my icy, rigid fingers. "My camera's all the magic I need, thanks."

Zephira lurched toward me again, and this time the naked people came with her. They closed ranks in a semicircle, fortunately the light of the fire casting them in shadows so I couldn't make out many details, but that would change.

The closer they got the worst things would become for me.

And then the chanting started, nonsense words, and I had to fight the urge not to run away screaming. I flinched away from the first person who tried to touch me. I staggered back a step, feeling like I was drunk myself, but not from anything as fun as alcohol or weed. Simply from the sheer ickiness of this entire disastrous experience.

I couldn't help the whisper that escaped, acutely aware of the darkness that settled around me as I did. "I really am cursed."

I have no idea what made Zephira stop and stare. Her people froze, whimpering in terror. It was like a cloud passed over the moon, only there wasn't a cloud in the sky. But they retreated for me suddenly, fear clear on their faces. And I wasn't about to look that gift witch in the cauldron.

Except, as I snatched up my tripod and my bag and shuffled everything together in a mess I knew meant I'd have to return tomorrow to retrieve all the stuff I left behind, Zephira cried out at my retreating back.

"WITCH!"

***

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