𝕄𝕀𝕊𝕋ℝ𝔼𝕊𝕊(es)* Ⓢⓔⓐⓢⓞⓝ ①

Ep. 20: Hot, Hard and Messy

As the girls approached Cleo's front door, Abigail Bronson noticed that her friend looked absolutely pale. Cleo had been dead silent the whole drive over, and Abby couldn't blame her. After all, she had just found out that her dear sweet mother was an immortal witch from the coven that had been plaguing their lives the last few months. She, Erica, and Ariana all stopped behind the goth and waited for her to open the door, but Cleo just stared blankly at its surface, almost in a trance.

Abby took a gentle step forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. Cleo jumped, snapping back to reality, then Abby spoke, "Are you going to be okay doing this, Cleo? We can take a minute if you need."

"Huh? Oh, uh, no. No, I'm good," Cleo tried to convince herself. It wasn't working.

"Are you sure? This is big news, Cleo, I mean, I get it if you need more time to process."

"Also," Erica chimed in, leaning over Cleo's other shoulder, "Not to be a sort of Debby downer about all of this, but like, should we think this through more? Like, what if we confront her on this and she goes full enchantress mode? Hypnotizes us and then makes us forget her secret? Or worse, turns us over to the—ow! Abby I told you to stop. Hitting. Me."

Cleo shook her head, "We have to do this now. We're running out of time. Besides, you guys aren't going to be at risk. I'm doing this alone."

Abby furrowed her brow, "Cleo, are you sure?"

"Yeah. She may have lied to me all these years, but she's still my mom. She wouldn't hurt me."

Abby put a hand on her friends shoulder then nodded with a smile, "Right. Well then, we're right behind you."

Cleo smiled back, "Thanks, Abbs." Then she knocked on the door.

"Um, Cleo, it's your house. You don't have to knock." Abby reminded her.

"Oh, heh heh, right." Her friend nervously chuckled before opening the door and stepping inside. Erica, Ariana, and Abby gave each other a cautious glance before stepping inside. The two latter entered first, but Erica hung back for only a moment to toss a glance toward the car once more.

There, Thalia Green lay drooling against the window, lost in a most blissful daze. On the way over, they'd woken her up then used Ariana's hypno-disk to drop her into a deep trance for the time being. Erica and the spy were both fairly certain with their combined hypnotic prowess, the girl would remain under for quite some time; long enough for them to explain the situation, then move her inside. That wasn't why Erica was staring longingly at her, however.

This whole mess was just so confusing, and with Thalia added to the equation, it was even more of a washy mess.

Sounds of water running and pots clanging sounded from the kitchen as the girls stepped inside, then moved slowly through the living room. Cleo didn't want to be in the lead, but of course, it being her house, she sort of had to be.

"Here we go..." She muttered to herself, entering the kitchen.

Inside, Ms. Westcott stood by the stove, chopping vegetables to toss into her pot with her back turned. Meanwhile, Skyler sat at the bar counter across the way, facing her. Seeing the boy safe and sound made Cleo feel a little better, but fear struck her when she saw that he looked vacant and tranced out. She'd seen it enough by now to know when the boy was hypnotized.

Immediately, she snapped her gaze back to her mother, ready to dive straight into their little conversation, but then she rolled her eyes when she realized what had happened.

Luna was wearing a tight black shirt cut down to her shoulders, showing off her smooth, pale skin. The fabric contrasted the tone brilliantly, and it certainly showed off her flawless figure with incredible detail. Her lower half was a long, silky red skirt with a slit down the side, letting a toned, thick thigh slip free from its wrapping and show itself off to the world. Her generous rump curved outward for the cloth to drape down oh so elegantly, and the shiny fabric swished hypnotically like a pendulum in the light as Luna swayed her hips side to side to the rhythm of her humming. Her alluring, lullaby like voice filled the space like a dream as she happily prepped food, completely unaware of the effect she was having on the boy watching her.