Chương 75: Let's Go Visit Your Witch
A hand shook Melvin awake. He murmured something softly, nothing but a few words of gibberish and opened his eyes. He peeled his lids back slowly, afraid that glare of sunlight would blind him, but it was dark outside the car windows. The rain still came down hard. Bridget placed her palm against his forehead and then moved to his cheek, checking for a fever.
"You feel ok?" she asked. Melvin nodded in reply.
"Much better," he said, and Bridget waited for him to faint again. This time he didn't. Bridget smiled.
"Then let's go visit your witch," she said.
They jetted out the car's doors, whisked through the sheets of rain and pushed their way into the witch's shop. Melvin didn't bother to ask how Bridget had gotten directions there or how the witch had discovered her number. After the revelation of the love juice, everything else was a moot point to him.
The shop was dim, the only light coming from a few tall metal lamps. The shades were pulled down, making the darkness outside darker. Melvin turned to check if the jar of eyeballs he'd seen on his first visit was still there. It sat where he remembered it; only it seemed to be less full. Melvin wondered if the witch had sold them or used them for some strange potion, maybe even another batch of her magical love juice. A chill shivered up his spine. The eyes left in the jar turned in unison to stare at him.
"Classy digs," Bridget said. Melvin turned to see her at a shelf on the opposite side of the store, a large jar held in her hands. The head of a large snake floated inside of it, the snake's fangs bared as if it had murder on its mind during its decapitation. Bridget put the jar back on the shelf and picked up an ancient looking book. She blew some dust off, opened the flesh-colored leather cover and thumbed through the pages.
Chương 76: He Felt Himself Falling Under Her Spell
"What is this? Arabic?" she said, her brow knitting in concentration.
"Yep, Arabic. It's the Necronomicon, the Book of the Dead. There's some fabulous recipes in the back," the witch's voice rose from nowhere at the back of the store. Melvin turned. She stood in a spot where Melvin was sure she hadn't been a second before, but she was a witch. Acting mysterious and popping out of thin air was probably her kind of thing. Her hair was in a long ponytail, flipped over one shoulder, and she wore a black t-shirt with the words "2 Hot 2 Handle" written in white letters across her chest and a pair of torn jean shorts. It was a far cry from the shimmering black dress she had on the last time Melvin had seen her. The witch must have either read his mind or guessed his thoughts from the expression on his face.
"It's casual Friday," she said, catching his eye with a shrug and motioning towards her attire.
"But it's only Wednesday," Bridget said. She put the ancient tome back on the shelf and wiped off her hands on her long brown jacket. The witch smiled, her sharp teeth gleaming.
"Maybe in YOUR reality," she said. She emphasized the word "reality" by placing her hands in the air and turning her fingers into sarcastic quotation marks. She turned towards Melvin.
"How're you feeling, Mel baby?" she asked. Melvin straightened his glasses and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. The longer that Melvin looked at the witch, the more he felt himself falling under her spell. What was it about her? Was it just her breathtaking beauty or was it some magic she was working?
"I've been better," he said.
"Well, let's see if I can't help the healing process along a little bit, shall we?" the witch said, her hands on her hips.
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