There's Witches In Those Mountains

o n e

*****************AUTHOR'S NOTE*****************

Here's a link to a playlist that accompanies this entire story, updated DAILY.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/40fNHonHOnIPYwby75jhmH

***************************************************

Kentucky should've been cool already, given that it was late September, but sweat poured down from her temples as she trekked through the dense forest. The leaves crunched beneath her feet, not from the death from the cold, but death from the heat. Her ginger hair bounced off her shoulder in knots; it had been several days since it had been washed, the depression setting in harder than it usually did.

Lydia continued down the path she was on, traveling to the clearing her family had made for themselves many generations ago there in Honaker, KY. Stone benches gathered around the fire pit, in a perfect circle, with stones counting the days laid around the benches. It was dark, not that one would not be able to see clearly what was there, but the colors were muted in such a beautiful way. It laid bare now, but in the many moons before, her family had hosted many parties and celebrations. Her family hadn't actively practiced in decades, as the southern Baptist wave washed through the hills of Appalachia and washed away any sort of pagan belief, but make no mistake: witches existed in the hills of Appalachia, and they never truly went away, just into hiding.

She took in the scene and smiled, already feeling the magic in the air. Where she lived was relatively remote, so there wasn't much chance of being caught. She stepped to the center of the circle, just outside of the fire pit, and set her backpack down. She looked around one last time for any people to interrupt her rituals, and slid her robe over her shoulders, the sherpa fabric pooling at her feet, all the way down until she was pale to the wind. She lowered herself to the ground and started setting up her mobile altar: five white candles, her mini book of shadows, a small lighter, and a throw blanket, to protect her sensitive skin from the floor of the forest.

Leaves crunched off the in the distance, but that didn't bother Lydia. She took her book of shadows in her left hand and turned to the page of her spell. She grabbed the lighter with her right hand and lit the candles from left to right as she spoke the words of the spell:

She grabbed the lighter with her right hand and lit the candles from left to right as she spoke the words of the spell:

A spell of protection was what she needed for herself. She was starting a new school as a newly-claimed witch, something of which her mother could appreciate (of she had still been living). She repositioned herself on the blanket and sat with her legs crossed. She clutched tightly to her pentagram necklace and began to meditate.

The wind picked up speed as she saw a vision of a Greek god in her mind, one she had always seen but could never identify (as he was always so far away from her in these visions). He was someone who was always watching her, always protecting her. The wind started to settle when she heard a soft voice in it: "Someone is watching you, guard yourself from him." The vision evaporated quickly from her mind and she snapped out of her meditative state. The candles had been blown out.

Lydia understood then just how important it was the act with urgency. She started gathering her items back into her shoe box quickly, but not quick enough. Heavy breathing came in with the wind. She paused in the middle of putting her altar away, frozen as she heard three unnerving words:

"Who are you?" The voice sounded low and southern.

Lydia looked up and locked eyes with a boy her age, fully dressed in winter clothing, glaring at her in confusion. She felt a sudden sense of vulnerability, or even shame almost, like she had been violated on her own land.

She took a deep, shaky breath and lifted her robe off the ground and very her shoulders. She quickly wrapped it around her and tied the belt tight to her skin. "I could ask you the same question, you're on my land. What are you doing here?"

The boy had a look of shock on his face, but turned red when he glanced down at her body, turning his lips to a smile almost instantly. "Why were you naked?"

Before she had a chance to stop herself and think about the answer, she blurted out, "I'm a witch! I do my rituals naked to help me feel closer to nature!" She threw her hands up in the air, her blanket falling off her body and gathering at her feet. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this. You're on my land!"

She bent over and grabbed her throw blanket and her alter from the ground. The boy took a very audible deep breath, something which took Lydia back briefly. She shouldn't have been able to hear his breathing that well.

"I'm Jacob," he extended a hand toward her. "Jacob Finley. And you are?"

She looked at him in total shock, almost disgusted at the smile he had just given her from being naked. "Again, what are you doing here?"

He rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Since we're all sharing secrets today, I'm a vampire on the hunt."

Lydia's heart nearly stopped. She felt heaviness in her head. Her intuition was telling her she needed to leave, but she felt compelled to stay. She cleared her throat quietly. "I'm a witch, you're a vampire, and we're both keeping secrets, right?" He nodded. She smiled and stepped closer to him.

"You do realize the heaviness of keeping my magical secret, don't you, Jacob? I typically don't cause harm with my magic, but my identity as a witch is something I hold sacred to me. Break that secrecy, and I'll break you."

Jacob laughed loudly. "I'm a vampire, what on earth could a fragile human like you going to do to a vampire like me?"

Lydia turned pale as an anger grew in her. She looked around her as the brush around her started to due rapidly. She was shocked and confused by what was happening, but the look of fear on Jacob's face, whatever she was doing, was working.