Nail in Her Coffin (Devil's Witch Book 1)

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Chapter 33-The Sheep and its Savior

“You’re just going to torture me until I die,” I grit out, as the two pale witches grip my arms and force me into a strapped bed.

My hands find the cold surface of the metal bars, I hold onto them tight enough my knuckles turn red.

We’re in the back of Patty’s salon.

“Patricia warned us about you, only she was too late. Now stay quiet. This will all be over soon. If you cooperate that is, so don’t bother fighting it will only increase your pain,” the brunette witch tells me as her friend draws a pentagram around us with black chalk.

The five-pointed star is a classic coven symbol of purity. They think they will be able to purify me by basically firing all the magic they can muster at me. If I try to use my magic against them, caught in this hex sign, I’ll die. My magic would collapse too quickly and my body would be unable to handle it withdrawing within me so fast.

“I didn’t kill anyone you miserable hag,” I retort back while thrashing against my restraints.

Too bad for me the salon is closed as well as the blinds, keeping any passing outsiders from seeing in. They are breaking the law doing this, especially since all they have to go off of is hearsay.

The two witches begin their spell and my curse mark begins to sting.

It’s not like I’m some demon, whoever did this to me was! This isn’t fair, but their minds are already made up. Begging for my life would only make me look pathetic. I hope Will hurries up and gets over here, stupid witches stole my phone from me too.

Nick said he would follow too, but I don’t know how he would find me.

“What are you doing?”

She continues texting with my phone. “Just letting the headmaster know you are safe and sound. The last thing we need right now is having to explain ourselves to the one you have spellbound. We know you have him under your control,” she spits back.

They can hurt me, but I’ll never let them hurt Will.

A throaty scream rips through me, feeling my magic begin to be forcibly sucked out of me as the witches use their own to harness and detach it from me. All just so they can find the demon supposedly possessing me. My chest aches horribly, as my magic is ripped from me without a care for my own suffering.

So this is what it feels like to be exorcised, but they won’t find any demon hiding in me after tearing out my magic.

Waves and waves of my own blue magic continues to pour out of me, disappearing for good onto the ground. I’ve been screaming too long and my throat becomes too sore to muffle even the softest whimper. Hot tears stream down the corners of my eyes nonstop, dripping down my face and soaking the white sheets of the bed underneath me.

My fists clench and unclench from the metal bars of the bed, the leather straps bruising my skin as my body continuously convulses violently against them.

“Steady yourself sister, the demon may emerge at any moment. This is the last of her magic,” the shorter witch grumbles with warning.

The last of what I think is all my magic remaining leaves me in a small waft of blue mist, drifting onto the floor of the salon and fading into nothing. I feel like a shell, not even human. Void of any strength, mental or physical.

“Great goddess in heaven...” one of the witches gasps sounding nervous. “Wait, it’s the demon, we did it!”

A dark shadow hovers over me, the object of the witches’ fear. Only the dark embodiment isn’t a demon, but what I guess is my own black magic.

The shadow collapses over me. It’s cold like mud and disappears once coming in contact with my skin. I know better though, the black magic is engraving itself within me once again and I know I should care, but I don’t.

I want these witches to pay, by any means necessary.

If I have to use malicious magic to do it, oh well. My true original magic is dead now, that was the only magic they were able to steal from me. It’s their fault now that I’ve been forced to resort to this.

The black magic is still signature in color of my original magic, a bright blue.

Just like the other times before I accidentally used it, my eyes start to sting and my curse mark pulsates.

Focusing my energy on the livid power begging to escape from my control, I release a small wave of the magic around me to test my hold on it. The straps holding me down get torn up and shredded as the magic violently escapes me. I sit up with a jerk, my eyes stinging so bad they surely are bloodshot.

The witches make a shrieking noise, startled by the power they thought they tore away from me for good.

I get up from the bed with a stagger, my body swaying as it struggles against the magic buzzing rapidly in the air around me. I lift my chin up, clenching my jaw I look my torturers right in the eyes.

“Great goddess! She’s possessed,” one of them screams in horror and I laugh.

“Shut up,” I say in a serious voice.

The old Valerie would never have been so blunt or dare to say such a thing in this kind of situation. Well, the old me is dead. Literally.

I’m done with their lies and torment. Now it’s their turn to pay.

The two witches obey me, but don’t give up their offensive measures against me. Their magic slams into mine over and over again, without this black magic I’d be dead by now. My magic would have caved in against theirs and return to me too rapidly for my body to handle.

Their arms rattle, tiring from the use of their craft for so long at such great force.

“You all are afraid of me. Well, I’m not some demonic girl. You all ruined my life!” I scream, something within me breaks away.

My control gone out the window, my magic bursts like a bubble and slams against their own.

I watch as they both crumple to the ground in defeat.

Laughter erupts within me, as the blue glow of my magic floats around the witches with warning. My magic is feeding off of theirs. Something unlawful, but it can’t be helped. That’s one of the main reasons why black magic is notorious and outlawed.

Once a witch is drained of her magic, she dies.

“Stay down,” I tell the two of them, watching them struggle to stand up. They quiver, probably in fear. I already know what they see and exactly what they are thinking. I don’t have to look down to see the giant hexagram etched into the ground around me, I can see it in their eyes as they stare down at the floor in terror.

I look behind me at the front of the salon, the glass is shattered onto the ground in millions of pieces. The chairs customers wait in are all shredded and torn up. The hair cutting station mirrors are cracked, half shattered.

The room smells of ash, as flames lick the six-pointed star around me. A side effect of using so much black magic. The flames rise above my knees and up to my elbows. My hair raises off my shoulders and floats around my face, drifting in the air by way of an invisible force.

My vision goes dark, but I don’t panic. Partly because I’ve become numb to what I’ve become, I’ve already died once and can’t say for sure if I cared if I died again.

“Don’t say another word, demons are irrational,” I hear one of the witches whisper.

I’ve tried to clamp down my anger that’s silently been building within me over the past few months. I’d like to think I’ve been stowing it away nice and neatly in a little box. But within that box, the truth is, it’s been swarming around for months.

And I wished I would never reach the breaking point, but here I am. Letting them see exactly what they want, a demon ‘possessed’ witch who wants to kill them.

Too bad for them the box is no more and my fury has been unleashed, blending in with the black magic and eating away my own capacity to think rationally. I could blame it all on the black magic, but I know this isn’t my doing.

It’s theirs.

I can feel my magic taking over my body completely, the bottom of my skirt waves in the wind as I step forward blindly. It feels good, for once not be afraid.

To be powerful.

I open my eyes again, no longer feeling the floor below my feet. My magic is lifting me off the ground, something believed to only be accomplished by headmistresses. Well, unsurprisingly, witches are wrong about a lot more than their fairy tales.

I watch the witches in front of me, holding onto each other for dear life. They look around them, at my ward trapping them.

"In infernis arderet,” I whisper.

Because that’s all these witches are to me. Annoying, selfish pests.

At the command of my words laced with my own dark craft, the two of them immediately blink out of my sight. The only trace of their pathetic existence marked by a mini hexagram, where they sat only moments ago, burned into the ground by my black magic.

The flames around me die out and I float back down to the floor. My magic leaves the same symbol singed into the floor around me. Fatigued by using so much magic myself, I slump down to the ground in a heap. I lay in the center of the circle, my hair pools around me and the side of my face rests against the cold tile floor.

I feel like I could take a nap here forever and never wake up.

My short peaceful moment is interrupted though when I hear the door chime across from me, but I’m too tired to lift my head up to get a better look at the person.

They quickly walk over to me and catch me off guard. With a sad smile, they pull out a handgun and shoot me right in the gut.

“Colin...w-why...” I choke out, coughing up blood. In this state, my magic is useless. I can’t heal myself this badly wounded.

“Please understand, this is only temporary for precautionary measures. Your destiny will be sealed very soon, our savior will come for you. So do not worry goddess, sleep in peace,” I hear Colin whisper in my ear, the shrill ring of police sirens fills the air.

All I can do is stare up at him like a deer caught in headlights.

I grew up with him, how could he just shoot me like this? What is wrong with him?

My mouth opens and closes, but nothing comes out.

No words, no last goodbyes.




Oh, how our savior will be so proud of me! I see him already parked outside, with the rest of our members.

They come inside, nodding at me in appreciation and forming a circle around our goddess. Our beautiful, pure witch who will bring salvation to the universe and eternal peace. Finally, the exalted one comes into the salon. He’s always last to our events, but with purpose. Everyone bows their head around me and I find my place in the circle, bowing my head as well. No one is allowed to make direct eye contact with Noctus.

Our circle opens, allowing him entrance into the giant mysterious hexagram our goddess lays in. We all watch him gaze down out her. I tried to make sure her death was quick and clean, she hopefully did not suffer too much.

I’m expecting to see him look as content as everyone else, but instead, our savior just smirks and then looks around at our faces. We all know what that smirk is hiding, his rage. It makes me fidget and struggle to remain still in my standing position.

His eyes land on me and I avert my stare to the floor in submission.

“You have made a bloody mess!” he screams looking livid, his magic twisting around my throat with an unforgiving grip.

He vanishes out of sight, faster than my heart is beating which happens to be very fast. With inhuman speed, he reappears right in front of me.

“She is your goddess and I am your god! You were told to make a clean kill, not let her bleed out like some dying animal,” he tells me in a stone cold voice, ripping the gun out of my hand.

Simultaneously, he withdraws his magic’s vicious grip on me and shoots me in the leg with my own weapon.

A muffled holler leaves me as I collapse onto the floor in shame. Oh, how he’s right! Stupid of me to just shoot her so carelessly, perhaps I should have poisoned her to make things less messy or slip some pills into her drink of choice.

I have made a mockery of myself, how can I regain his respect?

He turns from me in disgust and the rest of our members watch our savior return to his goddess’s side. He bends down beside her, looking entranced.

Quickly, everyone forgets about me.

He whispers something to our witch, too quietly for any of us to hear.

I grunt against the unbearable pain in my leg, hoping not to draw too much attention to myself. This is our savior’s moment and I have already ruined it enough.

The exalted one’s magic unravels around him, tracing over the fine lines of the hex sign. To complete the first half of the ceremony, he begins to implement the unification of their life forces-their magic.

The act is forbidden by the coven for they no longer believe in unification craft. To them, it’s archaic and forces people into marriages they cannot escape since unions are said to be eternal.

Their magic will become one and the same when she awakens.

He won’t risk giving her all of it now though, just enough to keep her living until we are ready to take her out of hiding from the coven. Once they know what she is capable of, they will want her for themselves.

The exalted one is only giving her enough magic to slumber until the time comes when she is to awaken. To do this, he is now activating the curse I was told to place on her with the help of our connections from the other realm.

The opening of the other realm will soon be accomplished, with the help of our goddess. All in due time.

The curse has given our goddess power as gatekeeper of the other realm. Controlling who enters and exits. If only she knew what power she holds! It is essential to our survival.

Her lips have already turned blue and her pale skin an even paler shade. As white as snow, matching her hair.

“I want not a stain of blood on her. Go,” Noctus commands calmly.

Everyone starts to move around each other in a hurry, I’m amazed none of them are diving for her blood. Then again, they know what would happen if they tried anything.

Meanwhile, Noctus heads right over to me.

His face becomes less cold, but I know his softer gaze is not directed at me.

“Did she cry?” he asks me.

“No, but she was very...confused,” I admit, he looks over his shoulder. Watching his unit clean up the area.

“When she awakens, she will be very confused indeed. That is why you will make her understand why the coven put you up to it.”

Why not just tell her he made me do it? If he truly believes what he’s doing is right, why keep secrets?

“Yes, savior,” I clench through my teeth, biting back the pain.

“In the meantime, pray your goddess seals the deal in a quick manner. Time is of the essence and we do not want to be on the devil’s bad side,” my savior warns harshly.

He strides away from me then, picking our goddess up carefully and carrying her bridal style out of the door.

Leaving me to call my own ambulance and pay for my own medical bills. It’s a cost I’m willing to pay though, I’d do anything for my savior.

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