Time Travel

Black Magic

Your heart beat raised at the night stalker stepped closer towards you.

Brandishing his knife and throwing it from hand to hand.

You brace for the impact of the knife that could be coming to you at any minute.

In that moment, you considered that maybe staying in 2018 would've been safer than this.

Maybe you were just destined to die.

All you could do was hope that Brooke had attempted to get away whilst the killer wasn't watching her.

Suddenly, a black spot flies across your vision and hits the night stalker right on his temple.

Causing him to jolt slightly, loose his concentration and drop the knife.

Without thinking about where the object had come from, you leapt into action.

Mostly assuming it was a rock that Brooke had thrown.

Reaching your arm out to grab the knife, you dived for it and grasped it in your palm.

Pain surged through your palm but it didn't matter.

You had the knife.

You were too high on adrenaline to care anyways.

Feeling the weight of the blade in your hands, you duck, avoiding a punch from the man, slicing his knee with the knife in the process.

The night stalker cried out in pain, that was when you knew to escape.

You glared at Brooke, alerting her to get the hell out of there whilst she could.

Brooke whimpered.

Unmoving.

That was when you noticed she was sitting in the centre of a star that had been carved into the mud.

He'd done some weird satanist shit.

Attaching her to the star.

Having grown up with witches, you understood how powerful black magic could be.

You were torn between trying to help Brooke and legging it whilst you still could.

You didn't even glance at the night stalker, he was probably still clutching his wound.

Then the mutterings came.

Mortiferis satanas

The night stalker's voice echoed inside your head, repeatedly.

You understood Latin well enough to know that meant "Bring death Satan."

Then, Brooke began to contort in pain.

"Go! Y/n!" She rasped, "Get out of here, go!"

That was when you knew he was cursing her.

The words he was whispering were going to give her excruciating pain until she eventually dies.

You couldn't leave her

You sighed before flipping around and kicking the night stalker in the chest.

The guy's eyes widened in shock before collapsing on the floor.

The Latin was suddenly cut off and Brooke almost instantly stood up.

You didn't say a word.

You and Brooke were both thinking the same thing.

We need to get out of here now.

You agreed and sprinting off through the dense wood, hoping to find the others.

As you ran, it became more obvious that Xavier had abandoned you

His selfishness pissed you off.

But another thought was plaguing your brain.

If Brooke wasn't able to move, and Xavier had vanished, who was the person throwing stones at the night stalker?

Would you guys be interested in short(ish) horror stories? Like I have some killer ideas.