NOVEL WEB The Belly of the Beast
The heavy fog shrouding the small town of Bozwick hung eerily low, making the garish signs marking the stores look even more sinister than the proprietors had intended. An onlooker from above might have sworn that the fog was moving through the square with intense purpose, touching every window and door as if it were leaving its mark on the gothic-style buildings.
Fenwick's Elemental Forces of Nature store's lights flickered on and off violently as the mist moved past it. The hanging sign outside The Wicked Spoon restaurant waved back and forth while the awning on the Twisted Threads clothing store opened and shut forcefully. When the fog had made its way around the square, touching each shop, it began to gather and swirl in the darkness.
The swirling stopped suddenly, and a woman in a dark cloak stood before the town's biggest attraction—an ancient well named The Belly of the Beast. Surrounding the well were four huge boulders. For as long as anyone could remember, people came to throw their wishes and coins into the well, hoping for favorable outcomes. The crowds were largest during the town's celebrations that followed the witch's Wheel of the Year.
"Ah, at last," the woman cooed as she lowered the hood on her cloak, revealing a cascade of fiery red curls and a gaunt, pale face. She slowly walked around the circle of stones, stopping to look down into the darkness and sighing, "Soon." Her eyes narrowed as she took a close survey of her surroundings, shaking off the feeling that someone was watching her.
Backing away from the well, she uttered, "Advoco!" and clapped her hands loudly. As soon as the words left her mouth, a man's body appeared crumpled in a heap beside her. A slight grin tugged at the edges of her mouth as his body began to tremble, and his eyes burst open. He moved his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, his bright blue eyes registering shock and horror.
The woman brought a sharply manicured nail up to her mouth. "Shh," she giggled, moving to grasp the man beneath his shoulders. Exhibiting strength that seemed well beyond her small frame, she lifted him above her head and threw him into the well. Deep in her mind, she could hear him scream, and she felt his terror in every muscle of her body. She let out an orgasmic sigh.
A puff of foul, dark green smoke rose from the well, momentarily revealing a monstrous face. Its hideous eyes appeared pleased and satisfied. The smoke wrapped itself around the woman, and inside her head, she felt a rush of power. Her body trembled again with pleasure. Just before the smoke receded into the well, she clearly heard the words, "Well done, daughter."
A delighted squeal passed her lips when a beating heart rose out of the well and hovered before her.
"For me?" she whispered, her grin wide and eyes misted. She reached her hand out and grasped the heart. For a moment, she held it, her body quivering in delight as she closed her eyes and squeezed it in her palm. Pulling the flesh close to her face, she inhaled deeply and lapped at the dripping blood before taking a generous bite. Her eyes rolled back as she savored every morsel. She then gently pulled her hood back over her head and, raising her hands, murmured, "Aveo!" She vanished as the street sign that read Devil's Corner fell to the ground.
A near-invisible presence walked out of the darkness towards the well. When it reached the well, it dropped a small bundle into it and shimmered away. A dark, low, rumbling sound erupted and slowly dissipated from within the well as a streetlight's bulb blew out.
Holly Fenwick stood in the upstairs hallway of the farmhouse that her family had owned for generations and made a sudden stop when the flooring creaked beneath her feet.
"Mother! Shh! This work must go undisturbed," she uttered into the darkness. "Adarna!" she hissed in a low tone. As the word left her mouth, a mournful birdsong wafted through the air. "Ah," she added, and her shoulders relaxed.
A loud, ugly meow was released behind her. Turning around, she glimpsed the muted gold eyes of her huge old Bombay, Gypsy. Her countenance instantly softened.
"My friend, you know those aren't real birds. I just need a little privacy," Holly said, tightening the belt on her baggy robe. "Well, privacy and a little light," she added before putting her right hand out and whispering, "Shine!"
As soon as the words left her mouth, a small ball of light appeared in her hand. She descended the stairway in the back of the old Victorian farmhouse. Once she reached the kitchen, she moved to stand before the enormous spice cabinet. She placed her free hand on the doorknob of the cabinet and closed her eyes.
"Aperto," she said loudly, and the house groaned. The doorway she had her hand on began to dissolve into thin air. Crossing the threshold into the room, Holly smiled weakly. Sweat was making her loose, burnished curls stick to her face. "Thanks, Mother," she said, patting the doorjamb. The house made a low moaning sound in return.
Holly quickly glanced back and forth across the large room. Before her sat four mahogany altars. Each altar was adorned with a unique symbol, representing the element it commanded. The symbol on the altar furthest to the left was an upright triangle. The altar next to it had an upside-down triangle. The third one had an upright triangle with a line through it, and the last altar's symbol was an upside-down triangle with a line through it.
Behind each altar were endless bookcases loaded with ancient-looking books. Each bookshelf had all the symbols carved across the top. Holly pointed at one of the bookcases behind the center altars, and a book moved from the shelf and hovered before her.
"Videor!" she said, and a larger altar appeared in front of her. As the book settled upon it, she moved in closer, and the book began to swiftly flip its pages. When the pages stopped, Holly put on the glasses that were hanging on a chain around her neck.
"Yes, the time has finally arrived," she said with a heavy sigh as she ran her hand across the page.
A bright sphere of light appeared, and Cassia Fenwick, Holly’s mother, walked through it. Her skin was translucent, and her long silver hair trailed behind her, waving along with her white gown.