Abominations (American Horror AU 3)

Chapter 6

"Ladies," Cordelia began. "Prepare yourselves. The morning gathering is coming up shortly."

Eleonora was relieved that she wasn't ordered to wear black; she got out of bed, took a bath, and freshened up her appearance with an ensemble consisting of light blue bootcut jeans, sneakers, and her favorite gray hoodie over a white v-neck t-shirt. Her light blonde hair was still damp when the gathering began, but it was brushed neatly and perfectly straight. She sat on the sofa between Zoe and Madison, and opposite them were Queenie and Nan while Cordelia sat in her own chair, one leg gracefully hanging over the other. Strangely, Fiona did not attend the meeting of the witches-she was wrapped up in her own business.

"Good morning, ladies," Cordelia said to begin the meeting.

"Good morning," the girls said in unison to the headmistress. Her brown eyes looked at each girl, but she had her sights set on Eleonora the most-Queenie had begun, though, by explaining her lineage and how she discovered her powers.

"I'd like to speak to the manager!" the customer shouted-Queenie had worked in a fried chicken joint in Detroitbefore being welcomed into the academy. Customers had always given her hell or a reason to be angry with them if they were the same with her. The man's next words infuriated her; "you stupid fatass!"

"What did you call me?!" Queenie shouted.

"Get the manager!" the irate customer replied. The girl took a few steps over to the frying vat, its contents boiling hot enough to scald anyone's skin severely. She rolled up her sleeve and hung her hand over the vat, looking over at the customer sternly.

"I am the manager!"

With that being said, she plunged her hand and forearm rapidly into the boiling, hot grease and looked over at the man, concentrating as she transferred the pain from her being to his. He glanced down to see his hand was receiving third-degree burns, and he screamed bloody murder in front of the counter as his skin began to sear as if it were on fire. Queenie kept it up, looking at him as she put her forearms deeper into the scalding hot substance, burning the customer even more. That'll teach him, she thought.

"I grew up on white girl shit like Charmed and Sabrina the Teenage Cracker," she said, looking at everyone; her eyes were focused on Madison's sparkly top, though. "I didn't even know there were any black witches. But, as it turns out, I am an heir to Tituba. She was a house slave in Salem. She was the first to be accused of witchcraft, so technically, I am part of your tribe."

Tribe? Eleonora was curious-were her powers inherited from a bloodline from Salem? Or someplace entirely different? She knew it was the latter-there was no other way to describe it. Cordelia then turned her dark gaze to the girl, whose verdant eyes were distracted by the smooth surface of the antique coffee table.

"Eleonora?" She snapped out of her reverie, sighing as she looked at Cordelia.

"Yes?"

"Tell us more about you," she insisted. "How did you discover your powers?" She gulped, and her freckled face turned red with embarrassment-she could easily sense this, and within a few moments, Madison got aggravated and looked to the girl next to her.

"Talk!" she ordered cruelly.

"Don't be mean," Queenie said in her defense.

"Cut it out, Madison," Cordelia said. Once she stopped, she leaned back with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at the blonde with harsh light brown eyes. "Eleonora? You don't need to be shy."

"W-What should I say?" the blonde asked shyly.

"Well, how did you discover your powers?" the headmistress asked. Eleonora sighed, keeping calm as she exhaled, clasping her hands together and fidgeting slightly.