Abominations (American Horror AU 3)

Chapter 18

The procession to the outskirts of New Orleans by the coven was a dramatic affair—every witch carried a black parasol and wore the raven shade, even Eleonora, who was disillusioned after hearing about her mother's murder. She was still extremely suspicious about the matter, for Fiona had claimed that she herself was the cause of replacing the rug; "I spilled wine on the rug. I tried to clean it, but it was too messy. We are getting a new one very soon." Even that didn't make sense, but the girl still had her reservations. Myrtle couldn't have done it; she didn't know my mother that well, she thought to herself as she walked behind Zoe and in front of Madison during the procession. There was simply no way.

Myrtle was dressed to the nines even as she was in her final moments—a long, crimson gown to accent her red hair and large, thick horn-rimmed cat-eye glasses, which was something she had always worn. Her hands were bound behind her back with a thick layer of rope, and it was her albino servants who tied her to the wooden stake centered practically in the middle of nowhere, but it was far from the city. Cordelia was blind and could not see Myrtle burn, but she was still in tears—the woman had been like a second mother to her when Fiona couldn't be. Zoe, who stood next to Kyle, had a look of shock on her face; she had never witnessed the death of a witch firsthand like this. Madison had no expression at all, while a disillusioned Eleonora stood there, her sparkling green eyes tearing up slightly. Myrtle was soon asked what her last words would be.

"BALENCIAGA!"

With her shrill, final cry, Fiona flicked a hot ash from her cigarette onto the pile of wood at Myrtle's feet, and the flames began to catch onto both the wood and the hem of the convicted's bright red, simple gown, working their way up to searing, charring, consuming everything on her person. The flames reached her head, and she screamed out as she became immolated, the fire working its magic and killing her slowly. Everyone watched the witch burn, and Eleonora even had thoughts of her mother—Helen's most powerful ability was creating and manipulating fire; to imagine her mother's spirit punishing Myrtle from the other side was beyond her. Helen preferred face-to-face confrontation; this was just too much to absorb. Nothing made sense anymore.

After Myrtle's corpse was burned to ash, Fiona stood fancily and dropped her cigarette on the ground, stepping on it before turning around to see three figures, two women and one man, standing there in a seemingly fixed manner. She took a good look at their faces, taking off her sunglasses as she recognized them to be Misty, Julie and Chase. Misty's curling, voluminous blonde hair was adorned with her signature black feathers, and she was wearing a light beige peasant top, layered necklaces, a forest green maxi skirt with an accent brown belt, and a periwinkle blue shawl.

Julie was slightly more elaborate with a black off-the-shoulder peasant blouse that exposed her ornate circular tattoo on her lower shoulder, a small array of silver and wood amulets on her neck, purple half pants that had grey stripes on a chain hanging on the side of the hip, and leather black lace-up boots that came to meet the bottom of the pants. Her ice blonde hair was glowing in the cloudy day, and her soulful eyes radiated kindness. Chase, on the other hand, was wearing a simple outfit consisting of a gray t-shirt, dark-washed jeans, sneakers, and his signature gray mittens on his hands. The coven turned to look at them, and Fiona broke her silence.

"Misty…" She muttered, remembering her as a former student at Miss Robicheaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies. "Misty?"

"Sure has been a while," the woman replied, her blonde hair blowing in the wind. Fiona looked at the twins, who stared at her blankly.

"Julie…" She approached them. "It's been, what…uh, ten years?"

"I think you're off by one," the striking woman with ice blonde hair giggled.