Forbidden Love: Deathly Love pt. II

Chapter 1: A Witch's Gift

I looked over at my sleeping partner. Kristian was so beautiful on the outside. Probably the most beautiful creature I had ever lied my eyes upon. But his will was ugly, and so it made him.

He was in love with me, and before my last mission with my new undead family, I had found that I had been in love with him, too. It was all a joke, I had realized, when I met the group's latest victim, Asher Gracen. I had fallen in love with him, and it was true. But I let my duties come first and lost him. For that I shall never forgive myself.

Kristian stirred and turned to look at me. Sun rays shone through the blinds to our private room, and he smiled at me with his movie star teeth. "Good morning, sunshine," he said in his seductive voice. "Good morning," I replied simply and petted his soft hair.

His eyes were staring into mine, and I stared back intently. "He is the one I want, only him," I kept trying to tell myself. But I knew that it wasn't true. "I love you, Kristian," I told him. It wasn't a lie.

I did love this terrible monster, but I wasn't in love with him. And with every kiss, every touch, it was a reminder of how wrong I had been about him. When we kissed, I tasted Asher's mouth. When he looked at me, I saw Asher's smile. And even the feeling of having Asher wasn't as bad as the reality that it really wasn't him.

The pain of being with Kristian when I knew he wasn't right for me, and the pleasure of feeling Asher every time I touched Kristian was the worst fate of all. I deserved every agonizing second of it, and I had never wanted to end my immortal life more.

*****

Since moving here, Louisiana had presented less of an interesting number of jobs than the other cities I had lived in. But here I was now, and I needed a job. Over the course of the past year, I had seen Damien, the leader of our cult, seduce and take the souls of three young girls and one boy, just like he had done to Asher.

To get my mind off of things, I drove into town to search for a job. The only job openings that I found were at Walmart, restaurants, and office assistants.

After a long, disappointing day, I decided to walk around town and get some fresh air before heading back home, back to Kristian, and back to all of my pain. It was still light outside when I made my way to the poor part of the city. There were all sorts of odd looking shops lining the dirty stone streets. There were things that I didn't even know existed hanging in some of them, and I picked up my pace.

A little further down on the street, I noticed a door. This door was no different than any of the other ones, but for some reason it stood out to me. I decided to take a look. When I ducked my six-foot-three muscular build through the tiny door, I was in a dark hallway lined with little bulbs of light.

As I walked, I noticed trinkets and odd charms hanging on the walls. At the very end of the hallway, there was another small door. The cheap green paint was chipping, and a sign hung from it that read, "Welcome."

The room on the other side of the mysterious door was dark and also lined with deep south decorations. In the middle of the room sat a small table with a purple velvet cloth. Atop the cloth sat a typical looking crystal ball. "Hello, young man." I jumped at the raspy Carribean accent.

Behind me was a small, dark-skinned woman of about thirty-five years. Her long dark, dredlocked hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she was covered in flowing fabrics.

Loose bangles hung from her wrists and neck, and her piercings looked painful. Strange markings covered both of her arms, her throat, and most of her face. I noticed some markings running in a straight line up her right arm. Something about them seemed familiar.

"Hello, ma'am," I replied. I stared at the markings on her arm, trying my best to remember where I had seen them. "Ah, yes," she said. "I see you have noticed the tattoos on my arm, or rather markings, I should say." Suddenly I remembered the markings. I huffed. "Curse marks," I spat at her. She chortled. "I know you, boy," she told me," but you don't know me." Her smile was jagged and missing a few teeth. "How-how do you know me?" I sheepishly asked.

She tilted her head. "Personally, I don't," she told me," but I know your kind." I licked my lips and prepared my words. "We, you and I, are monsters, undead who thrive off of mortal and animal blood. Our leaders, the reapers, live off of souls and only use the blood to satiate their hunger for short periods." "Correct," she creaked with a smile. I stared at her markings. "You are a leader."

She nodded. "Correct again, or at least, I was. I have been set free of my curse. A witch freed me of my immortal bonds, and I am now mortal again." Her crooked smile was scary, even to me.

"But I shall spare you the story. I am also sad to say that it is closing time for my little shop. You may be on your way. It's been nice meeting you," she paused,"...Mitchel." I had turned to leave but stopped when she said my name. "H-how do you know my name?" I stuttered. Her terrifying smile grew even larger. I stared at her, analyzing what to do next. "You know, don't you?" I asked her. "You know me and my story."

The woman shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't know the specifics, however, word gets around. You're leader, Damian, was bragging about one of his latest souls, a boy who you helped seduce to get him closer, to help steal his soul. Word traveled fast, and I heard about it. That's how I knew your name, and you aren't the first person that I've met that had a story like that." She leaned in closer to me as if we were sharing an intimate secret.

"I'm going to tell you something, Mitchel. I am a witch."

This didn't exactly shock me, but it did scare me a bit. I had never even met a witch before, much less be in a room alone with one. I had heard awful tells about them, but I wasn't sure any of them were true. I didn't want to find out.

"Others have come to me with problems such as your, Mitchel. You want to die, you want your loved one to come back, or some even to become mortal again such as I. I can give that to you, you know. But only if it is something you truly desire."

Her eyes seemed greedy and cruel, but the look on her face was innocent. "What do you get in return?" Her face turned back into a hideous smile.

"All I want from you is one thing. For this to work, I cannot tell you what that is until everything is over. Then I shall take it from you," she told me. "So," she said," do we have a deal?" I deeply desired to have Asher back alive, even if it meant that I could not be with him, he still deserved to live.

"We have a deal," I said. "No matter what happens to me, it is my only true desire for Asher to live." "Perfect," her jagged mouth replied. "Goodbye, Mitchel. Have a good life."

It sounded strange to me for her to say "have a good life" knowing that I was immortal, but I just brushed it off. She told me exactly how to do what I needed to do in three simple steps. "So that's it?" I asked. "No cauldrons, no potions, or spells?"

She only laughed. It sounded more like a crow's cackle. "My dear boy," she said," we are not like the witches you hear about in story books or movies." She looked straight into my eyes with a deep seriousness. "We are far worse."