Witch {Book One} [UNEDITED]

V: Miss Jemma's School of Evil

Helena Kreig was Samantha's childhood best friend. She was blonde, badass, and had a thing for drinking blood. She had a red 1967 Chevy Impala with license plates that said "APO WAR." When she pulled up to the Bitchy Witchy, I knew something was off about her. She was wearing a red minidress and matching pumps. Her blonde hair hung past her ribcage in loose curls. She had huge silver hoop earrings. Her lips were black and she had red eyeshadow and dark black eyeliner. And her cleavage . . . she had a spiked bra that could be seen through her low cut neckline.

"Sam!" She exclaimed, grinning when she saw Samantha. Helena wrapped her arms around Sammy. "These fake boobs are killing me. I just want to get back in my other clothes. I hate this."

Sammy laughed. "Then why are you wearing 'em?" She asked, kissing Helena's forehead.

"I'm starving!" She adjusted her dress a bit. "I can't eat anything if I'm wearing my normal clothes. How you still manage, I have no clue."

I looked at Flynn first, then at the stupid cat, then at Lucy and Alice.

"What exactly do you . . . eat?" I piped up, wanting to know if she meant free food, that special something you get in the bedroom, souls, or a combination of all three.

Both Sammy and Helena turned to face me.

"P--" Sammy began.

"Oh, sweetheart," Helena smirked. "I feed off of anger. After all, what does anger lead to? That's right. War."

Jemma got off of work two and a half hours later. She walked out of the Bitchy Witchy, a leather jacket wrapped tightly around her body.

"Jemma!" Helena exclaimed, hurrying over to Jemma. At first, the waitress looked confused.

"Hel?" She asked, suddenly recognizing the blonde girl in front of her. "Holy shit! Hel! You're back!" Jemma wrapped her arms around Helena, pulling her close to her. With the massive pumps Helena was wearing, Jemma's head only came up to Helena's cleavage. "What are you doing here?! Shouldn't you be preparing for Code APO?"

Helena stumbled back, nearly tripping over her Death Pumps. "Code APO is a dead one. Ain't gonna happen for some time. What about you? Isn't MJSE s'posed to open soon?"

The color drained from Jemma's face.

"My School . . ." she whispered. "Is now deemed one of the most haunted places on Earth and . . . now nobody comes to it . . ."

"Can we see it?" Flynn asked suddenly. Everyone spun around to face him. "Miss Jemma's School of Evil? A . . . Gl . . . the others talked about. I wanna see it . . ." Jemma visibly tensed up, contemplating answering him. Eventually, she slowly nodded, her dark eyes full of what looked like fear.

Sammy, Lucy, and I snagged a ride with Helena in her Impala. Alice, Flynn, Simon, and Jemma rode in Jemma's car.

I didn't know how we got to Miss Jemma's School of Evil. One minute we were at the Bitchy Witchy, the next, in some creepy area of the woods. The sky was black and dark trees that were at least two hundred years old surrounded us. In the one clearing about four hundred feet in front of us was an old stone schoolhouse painted black with words reading MISS JEMMA'S SCHOOL OF EVIL in red paint that I was positive was blood.

Jemma got out of her car, Alice, Flynn, and Simon following her. Jemma sashayed towards the building. I scurried out of the car and after her, curious as to what this demonic place was. The others got out after me, though I paid little attention to them.

I watched as Jemma threw open the doors to her school. It was dusty and filthy inside. An old chalkboard took up most of the wall opposite to the door. A table rested in one corner of the room and a bed in the opposite corner. A large pentacle was painted in red paint--or blood--in the middle of the floor. Shelves with bottles of thick, dark liquids lined one wall and the other had blood spatter all over it. Bile rose in my throat but I forced it back.

"Welcome to Miss Jemma's School of Evil!" Jemma grinned, turning and throwing her arms out. I glanced at Flynn. His jaw had dropped open and he had dropped Simon the Cat.

Jemma walked further into the schoolhouse. The others--including me--followed her in. The doors slammed behind us.

"My School of Evil has been open since 1694, the year after those damned Witch Trials finally ended," Jemma explained, clapping her hands twice. Every candle in the schoolhouse lit up. "Though the original school was opened in 1657. Children are the only ones that can see the glamour I put up, making it look like some sort of fun house in the woods. Teenagers and adults come here all the time because they want to see the demon Jemma or the ghosts of those I've killed. The ghosts are really whiny and annoying, just FYI. Each person who comes here--except for all of you--gets killed by the oh-so-fabulous me. Careful where you step . . ." She stepped over a rotten skeleton in attempts to get to the table. "There's also this baby," she held up an ancient looking pistol. "People sometimes go crazy with those whiny and annoying ghosts being all whiny and annoying so they shoot themselves. Or they just play Russian Roulette. It's fun to watch."

I looked at the others who looked as if they talked to psychotic demons in haunted schoolhouses every day of their lives.

"Cal and Octo are also two humans that I haven't killed yet who have come here," Jemma continued. "But that's because I like their psychic powers. They're fun, too. Their powers. Cal and Octo aren't as fun. Though they are fun. Sometimes. Rarely."

It registered in my mind then that I was psychotic enough that being locked in a haunted schoolhouse with a psychotic demon wasn't the worst thing that had ever happened to me. In fact, it seemed more normal than anything else that had happened so far.