Witch {Book One} [UNEDITED]

II: Leviathan

I came home with a new scar. It was on my back. I got home, took off my shirt, put a piece of scotch tape over the wound and proceeded to light a cigarette.

"You're home," a voice split through the sheer silence of the building. I glanced up at the person. "Really? Smoking?" Alice asked. I shrugged and leaned back, still shirtless. My bloodied fingers were bandaged but blood still soaked my cigarette. I puffed out a cloud of smoke before I stood up, pulled my shirt back on and snuffed out the cigarette.

"This still ain't your home, Alice," I murmured, examining the childish and brightly colored bandaids on my fingers.

"Lucy is outside," Alice said simply. I glanced at her, my eyes narrowed.

"Sammy with her?"

"Not since Flynn died."

"Figures." I walked past Alice to the window and look out it. Sure enough, Lucy is standing there.

"There's blood on your back," Alice said.

"I know. Got in a fight. I taped it up. It'll heal soon enough." I shrugged. "What's Lucy doin' out there?" When Alice didn't reply, I spun around to face her. I noticed the large bruise under her eye then. "Who hurt you?" I demanded.

Alice shrugged.

"Same as you, I guess. Fight'n whoever I can."

"Mmh."

I turned back to the window. Lucy had gone. I grinned a bit and pushed past Alice again. I grabbed my jacket and slipped it on as I ran outside. I could hear Alice calling after me but I ignored her completely. By the time the both of us got outside, the clouds started to give way and rain poured down on us. Alice hated the rain but I loved it. It was obvious where Lucy would be. All one had to do was follow the goat.

Everybody in New Orleans knew the rhyme "Mary had a Little Lamb." Lucy was almost Mary. Almost. Instead of some fluffy white lamb following her around, a ram with fur black as ebony would chase her. Lucy loved that goat. Her grandmama and granddaddy lived up on a farm. When Lucy was ten her grandparents' goat gave birth to two kids. One was white as cream. The other was colored pitch. After the black kid was born, the momma and daddy goats died as well as the cream colored kid. The black kid was later found eating their eyes and tongues.

Lucy named the goat Leviathan. He followed her around everywhere and would butt anyone who crossed his path or Lucy's. When Lucy was thirteen her grandmama and grandaddy gratefully handed Leviathan over to Lucy. Since that day that damned goat followed her around and wouldn't leave her alone. The part that scared most people was that people claimed that Lucy and the goat talked to each other. If Lucy wasn't the Devil, Leviathan was.

"You hate her," I stated when I had spotted Leviathan dancing in the streets. Lucy stood by him, watching with a sly smirk on her black lips.

"Who?" Alice asked. "Lucy? Nah. I don't hate her. I'm just confused as to why she hates me senseless. I ain't ever laid a finger on her sin-soaked skin. I think Sammy dear did somethin' to her, though. She's just gettin' more an' more . . . scary . . ."

I shrugged and continued watching Lucy and Leviathan.

"I know you're watchin' me," Lucy called from her position across the street. "Alice, ain't it? And . . . Adelaide, right?"

Alice and I exchanged a look.

"Those are your names, ain't they?" Lucy asked again. "Alice and Adelaide?"

"Well, actually, my name is Bandit . . ." I muttered. "But yes, Alice and Adelaide. Never thought you'd be talkin' to two people like us here, Lucy."

Lucy was wearing socks with stripes and a shirt that read "Keep Calm and Scary On." She wrote "BITCHES!" in red paint under that. I noticed that she was wearing one red boot and one black one.

"And why ain't that? You two people too scared of me?" She smirked at her words. "This ain't your part of town, sweetheart." She stuck her tongue out. Her tongue piercing glinted in the sun. I forced my gaze to the ground.

"Your part of town?" I muttered. "I live right'n there . . ." I pointed to my house. Lucy laughed.

"Hon, New Orleans is mine. You hear that? Mine. That's what happens when you have power. You get things," Lucy drawled.

"Power?" Alice asked. "What kind o' power?"

Lucy hesitated.

"Power. Just raw, juicy, delicious, addictive power." Her Whore necklace caught my eye. Leviathan bleated. Alice took my hand.

"The blood is seepin' through," she hissed. My hand flew to my back where the blood was definitely seeping through my shirt.

"Maybe you should see a witch," Lucy suggested.

She smirked once more before sauntering off. Leviathan bounded close to her heels.

>>>

When I was seventeen I was diagnosed with lung cancer. I turned to the doctors, laughed, and then they tested me again. I was cured. Somehow in those brief few seconds of refusal I got cured. My favorite game after that day was called Put Bandit in Every Dangerous Situation Ever Until she Dies then Watch as she is Revived Magically. Even as a child, I adored playing dangerous games that brought me close or past death.

When I was eighteen I committed my first crime. I snuck into a corner store and stole some spray paint. I then painted the words "DIDN'T GET CAUGHT" along the wall of the police station. Somehow, I didn't appear in the cameras. Just a floating can of spray paint decorating the wall with vandalism.

When I was nineteen I decided that there was something paranormally wrong with me. I checked myself into a mental hospital and stayed there until I was twenty years old. Once they let me free, I decided that I wasn't schizophrenic like the doctors claimed I was. I was just aware of my surroundings whereas no one else was.

Alice was also aware. So was Sammy. Flynn was aware but he didn't know it. Then the bastard died and we realized that he wasn't aware of his surroundings at all.

>>>

I went home. Alice followed me there. I opened the door and was greeted by a strange oddity. Taped to the wall in front of the door was a note.

Hi Adelaide Lee!

I ripped the paper down and spun to face Alice.

"We have a problem . . ." I muttered, handing her the note. She quickly scanned it over before shredding it and tossing the scraps on the ground. Alice said nothing as she walked to the kitchen. I frowned and followed her, curious.

Alice opened my knife drawer and took out the biggest knife there.

"Yes, we do have a problem," she said in a voice that wasn't hers. I stumbled back, tripping over my feet. Alice loomed over me. "You can't seem to stay dead now, can you?" She plunged the knife into my stomach.

I died listening to Not-Alice's maniacal bloodthirsty laughter.