Guardian: #1 Spell Bound

Chapter 22

The troops slept silently their backs against the trees. They had set turrets for their protection, a constant watch with inferred scanners. The mini-guns attached meant business, the old technology making a loud noise to awaken the sleeping soldier's if an attack came their way. Against this world's magic, the technology didn't stand a chance, as the group of witches, crept through using their magical spells, taking the men during their sleep, among them being Abel.

The crowns crept along a long dreary path, walking the men they have taken captive in a net that their corrupted wolves now carried. The women wore black robes against their wrinkled skin; they were well aged, living unnatural life spans from their dark magic. Their long noses seemed to jet from their head, like a bird's beak. Their eyes were widened from their prolonged activity in darkened areas. They walked with a near limb, as they moved forward, looking at the other captives, in cells. The iron bars were in a circle around the ruins, the witches called home. This was a witch covet and the crowns' world.

Abel opened his eyes, as he woke stunned to find three old women around a small alter. The men woke one by one, glancing at their surroundings, as they looked at the circular room where other's had been stored away in cells. The dripping of water could be heard echoing a ways off, telling Abel that this place could be much bigger than what he could see. The men checked for their guns, noticing that there were gone.

"Sir, do these, women practice voodoo?" a man replied.

"I'm more worried how they got past our defenses." Another replied, tapping his hip for his pistol.

"Shut up" Abel hissed back at them.

"Hello!" a voice in the cell across yelled, "Help! Witches help!"

The sweat voice was none other than a young woman's no older than her teens. Abel tightened his jaw. These were witches, something Abel would joke about; this meant the practiced black magic, the works of Hell. Abel looked around, not even bothered by the dark surroundings.

"This place is giving me the creeps." A soldier said, pulling C-4 from his side.

Abel looked at the C-4 smiling, "give that here."

Sure thing boss," the soldier replied.

Abel pulled a knife out of his boot as he began to make precise cuts to the C-4. The bomb opened up as Abel looked at the uranium.

"Over here." Abel yelled, "I have a knife."

A witch turned walking with a small limp towards the man, as she smiled at him, "Now darling, hand me what's in your hands. "

Abel did as she said, placing the C-4 charge in her hand, along with is knife. The other soldiers, held back their smirks, as the witch walked away. Abel turned his back against the cell's gate, grabbing the trigger from his men.

"On the count of three, three," Abel shouted out, pressing the button on the detonator.

The explosion rang off, blasting the witches into pieces as the stones of the foundation trembled. Dust fell from the ceiling, as a blast mark was seen on the floor. The mess of a human laid upon the floor as noise was heard coming down a hall nearby. Two young women came forward dressed in similar black robes, along with another old woman. The raised in their heels as the bare footed woman slowly walked forward to meet the fair women.

"What spell could do such a thing?" The two young women asked, looking into the crown's eyes.

"None that I have seen, this is no magic; this is the wrath of our goddess." The witch answered, "Take one of the men, we must make a sacrifice."