The Witches of Ravenrook 02

The six witches start moving their hands and chanting in that warped gibberish of theirs. Regina stands and I see three upper-class women start to swing around in her direction.

"Don't worry about this," I wave her off. Instead I grab two random book bags, hurling one then the other at the two lead attacking girl-minions.

With the first, I hit the lead girl in the shoulder, smacking her into the closest table. I get the hang of this bag-throwing thing and nail the second girl in the head and she's lights-out. The third girl freezes and looks my way.

"Back your ass up," I growl and the girl flees back to the Witches' dwindling cliché.

When I turn back, the Witches have finished with Bradley; his body looks the same but he is infused with a lethal charisma and an animalistic menace.

"I am going to bathe in your blood," Bradley hisses. He's barely human anymore – his flesh is only a shell for the power of the witches and his own wickedness. The Witches don't create evil; they build upon what is already in you – how nice.

I wait; I'm monster but not like him. Bradley has surrendered that portion of the human persona that mastered fire and nurtured his family and clan by dint of personal sacrifice, multiple millennia ago. He's probably feeling no pain, but he hasn't healed either. I know what that means.

"Die," he froths at the mouth as he charges, hand's outstretched; this might hurt.

I bring my hands up over my head and step forward. I bring my balled fists down as his hands are grabbing my shirt, connecting hard with his collarbones resulting in a resounding snap. My fists drive into the top rib and that almost snaps too. His nervous system to each arm collapses and suddenly he is a head and limbless torso in a fist fight. My head butt finishes him off.

It takes me a moment due to my 'super power' to figure out what has happened. No one in the lunchtime crowd is saying a word and they are all looking at us. Somewhere their little monkey brains have been finally allowed to kick the civilized thought centers in the gonads and wake the body up. The Witches have suffered their first significant defeat. My earlier encounter with Midnight was a tiny ripple where this is a huge wave crashing onto the rocks.

No longer will students be drug off in the night while all the rest can do is put their pillows over their heads and be thankful it isn't them – this time . The witches gambled and lost. My only problem is I have no idea what to do with this victory. I hoist Bradley up and shake him.

"Walk the fuck out of here and never come back," I snarl.

"Help...help me," Bradley pleads to the lead blonde. She turns away and the rest follow suit. The human clique does the same over the next few seconds. Only Sally spares me a look and it is one of fear – fear of me or for me, I'm not certain.

"Spring and Autumn, come over here," I command. It appears that arrogance is a trait us Dark folk share. "Spring and Autumn, get your derrieres over here. I am not asking a third time." I reach down and feel one of the flagstones on the floor and sense the chill that gushes like oily water through the floor that I had felt a dozen times before but never understood. It is the lines of magic that crisscross the island.

I feel that energy solidify in the rock then I pry the flagstone up and take it over to the table where I have left the twins, Midnight and Twilight. I begin scrawling with my fingernail the names of Spring and Autumn and, lacking anything resembling knowledge of the occult, I etch an Omega under each name. I heft the stone, snap it in two and get ready to nail them in the same way I hit the two girls going for Regina a minute ago.

I look at the two red-heads. Before I can look down one last time to my impromptu missiles they are walking my way. Apparently scrawling Omega on the stone is the right thing because Midnight and her sister have been right at my shoulder, reading my work.

"Take Brad outside the gates," I don't even look at them. "Once he's beyond school grounds you may do with him as you please – be creative."

The Witches seem confused then they remember my true nature . All six of the little freaks get these sneaky, rather creepy smiles before the red-heads get to work. Four of Bradley's former allies take him by the knees and under the arms. He's whimpering, pleading and crying in fear and pain; before the doors shut out his noise, Bradley is even screaming out my name.

"Bernadette," I use her 'public' name, "I'm going off with these two," I put an arm around Midnight and Twilight, "so where can we catch up?"

"I'll be studying near the Founder's statue," she sings out. I give her a nod and steer the raven-haired twins out of the hall in search of an unoccupied class room.

I know the six are still going to try and kill me and Regina. Darkness hungers for more than death after all, but there are thresholds and how I approach them is my only hope for the Happy Ending getting caught up in this madness the rest of us seem to have thrown away. I find the empty room they suggest and steer my two willing victims inside.

You would think they would be more afraid, but Midnight keeps touching her lips with the tip of her tongue, remembering our kiss, and Twilight is starting to mimic her reactions to an encounter she's never had. I push them up against a wall that, poetically, has a wall-sized map of the world in 1491.

"Take off your panties – all the way off, open your shirts and push up your bras over your breasts," I demand.

"What are you going to do to us," they combine their question with desperate anticipation and lingering fear.

"I'm going to sexually abuse you for my own pleasure," I grumble.

"Oh, sexual relations have no interest to us but we will submit to your basest urges," Midnight and Twilight agree then begin to work off each other's clothes rapidly. Real people don't talk like this. Watching a twin strip down their double while being similarly undressed is an erotic pleasure I never anticipated in my life, much less happening at this college.

"What's next?" they turn and address me. I have totally shut down my upper brain functions while they flash me their...goodies. I draw a blank for a second then,

"Lift up your skirts – both hands and right below the bell – you don't have belly buttons," I stammer through trying, and failing, to sound ferocious. I must sound sexually needy because they give me these tiny, creepy smiles that express their belief they are gaining an edge.

"I am going to have to mark you two so I can tell you apart," I stand close to them. Any hope that my superior size would be intimidating is quickly dispelled by their curiosity.

"No scar will last," Twilight (I'm pretty sure) says decisively and terribly smug.

"You are showing far less imagination and creativity than lovely Midnight here," I chastise one and gently caress the cheek of the other.

I have the twins confused though Midnight is blushing at my touch.

"Braid your front locks; you – Twilight to the right and Midnight to the left," I instruct them. "You may think you can trick me, but you can't."

"How would you tell?" Midnight is honestly curious. I respond by placing my middle fingers on top of my forefingers and rub them along their bald pussies.

Them being hairless, not bald, is plainly freaking me out. It is like,

"You aren't virgins, are you?" I counter-inquire. They give a little sexy breath then giggle.

"We can't be virgins – we've never had souls, so we can't be virginal," they smile at me as if I was a well-meaning toddler they were about to lovingly shove into a pie to cook. I am now back to thinking this whole world has gone insane.

No belly buttons, no pubic hair and no souls. I'd re-examine my mission if I had any other plan in the wings – I don't. Their bodies are nice and smoothly formed; not 'beating down the door to the gym' tight but built slender, warm and compact.

"A little touch of sunlight wouldn't kill you two," I murmur. Twilight's right hand grabs my arm stroking her cunt to steady herself.

"We...we don't do that," Midnight moans. "We are the way we were made; this way forever." I still think I can change that. I have to fight the urgent impulse to ram my fingers in as deep and as hard as I can go. I want to hurt them; make them cry and scream for all the horrible things they've done.

Midnight slumps into me by the time their juices are both flowing freely. Despite their claims, they respond differently. Midnight is a total slut, gyrating against me and trying to hump my hand deeper inside her. Twilight is all about sensitivity, trying to control my movements by trapping my fingers with her thighs where it feels the best for her.

I go down to one knee. The girls lean in to give me access to their tits and I start off by sampling and suckling on each of the four in progression. They may never be mothers or have a mothering instinct but there is nothing wrong with their nipple response. Twilight tries to move her right hand through my hair and hold my head in place but I bite down hard on her nipple and give her a sharp 'No!' Her cunt squeezes my fingertips as I bite down.

Midnight moans lustfully a moment later.

"Please, please," Midnight eggs me on. I reward her by sucking in most of her right breast and twirl around her areola with the thick part of my tongue. My taste buds must be driving her mad the way she's hiccupping her breath.

"Midnight," Twilight nearly sobs, "stop it...I can't take it – stop feeling that way." She reaches out and rests a hand on the back of Midnight's neck, releasing her skirt to fall onto my arm. Her touch is a tender gesture, not angry. I see a rout in the making; I pressure my two fingers up until I can pinch her precious, roaring pink clitoris between my thumb and forefinger.

In one final desperate effort, Twilight's body rockets upward until she's on her tip toes. Her thighs are clenched tight, trying to retard my progress and her body is so tense she can't breathe. I ram my two fingers deep inside her to the last knuckle. Too late I recall the hymen. Twilight is free of obstruction so I jab Midnight as well. They are right and I am wrong – they aren't virgins.

Twilight gives off this high-pitched wail that is half unearthly keening; half steaming hiss of air. As Twilight is twisting on my fingertips, Midnight is pushing down on my fingers so hard that each up-thrust resounds in a painful slapping of my drenched fingers, my thumb dragging rapidly along her clit and the rest of the fingers pushing in her peritoneum and cunt lips.

I wiggle, twirl and pump my fingers deeper into Twilight keeping her going and going on and on. Midnight looks down at me and I see that tiny smile from earlier in the day struggle for its own creation as it ignites across her face. I half-doubted those muscles have ever been flexed before. Now they are coming alive. Her eyes screw shut and she lowers her head on top of mine.

Midnight surges into a series of violent vibrations; her vagina flowing copious amounts of fluid down my palm and arm, soaking the cuff of my shirt. Twilight, having held her muscles tighter, drenches my other arm several second later. What surprises me are the chilling sensations rushing from my heart into the twats of my two raven-haired nightmare-creatures.

It is a conflicted morass of my living self and the vast darkness that engulfs me. This drives the girls out of their minds in some sort of dark magic endorphin rush that is a constant blossoming of orgasmic energy, lust and need. I'm merely getting this as a backlash. The pure effect is for them alone and my tenuous sanity is grateful.

I finally cut the connection and remove my fingers from their pussies. The girls collapse against me; panting, weeping, and doing something to each other and myself. It takes me a second to figure out that they are kissing each other and the hair on my head. My legs slowly propel me to stand once more. I think about making them clean my arms up then another thought comes to mind.

"Clean me," I direct my two dire enemies and immediate lovers.

"But, that's hers..." Midnight struggles for words. See, I've switched arms so that each is cleaning the others mess. Twilight doesn't even pretend to protest. She takes on the first proffered finger, licks it to the knuckle before going for the next. Midnight is right behind her, clearly inspired by her sister's enthusiasm.

"Do you ladies – go at each other a lot?" I say with some suspicion.

"Do you mean sex?" Midnight asks. I nod. "With each other?" I nod again.

"No, we never knew we could feel this way," Twilight pants. "We are made from dead bodies Richard. We never knew we could feel this way." Dead bodies – serious turn-off.

"This is my school and if you go against my wishes I will be even harder on you; are we clear." They nod energetically as the lick their way down my wrists. When they finish licking me 'clean' the look up at me expectantly. I have this bizarre urge to put little chocolate mints on their tongues as a reward for a job well done – then giggle insanely as I throw myself off a cliff.

"And because you've made this campus your personal horror playhouse, from now on, none of you will wear underwear," I command, "because you will be available for sex on demand – whenever and where ever I want; any or all of you." The two stare at me, neither agreeing nor challenging me. Suddenly Twilight collapses.

"I can't stand up," she states with wonderment. "My legs have gone numb."

"Make sure the others understand my intentions," I glare with as much menace at Midnight as I can fake. I should be furious with these poor inhuman – not souls but Damned Ones. No Soul means no salvation – ever. I turn and walk out of the room.

"I don't want to kill him," I hear Twilight whisper in despair.

"I agree sister," I imagine Midnight comforting her twin, "maybe if we remove his brain we can enchant his body to react with muscle memory."

"We will have to experiment to see to the validity of this choice," Twilight murmurs happily.

Part of me wants to run for what remains of my hellish life; part of me wants to go back there and keep snapping their freakish little necks until they understand that sentient beings shouldn't destroy their fellow sentient beings. This only reminds me of how screwed up the World outside this island is too. At least the Witches have something resembling an excuse. Fuck.

Walking Into a Trap

I catch up with Regina at the statue of Camille Ravenrook, with the Blondes sitting close by and in definite danger of earning my ire. I close with Regina and give her a kiss on the cheek; she gives me a kiss on the other cheek and a knowing smile.

"You actually broke those two in," she teases me.

"Maybe," I prevaricate.

"And maybe those two twitched and squirmed so much I'm betting their granite seats are soaked and slick," she teases me even more. "I admit I am a bit jealous."

"Are the red-twins back yet," I change the subject.

"You told them to be creative," Regina shakes her head. She stops talking as I strip off my shirt – it smells of way too much female sexiness. Regina and the witches staring at me is bad enough; the unsolicited 'regular' female attention is surprising.

"Your body has gained...definition as your power has increased," Regina smiles in appraisement of what is so close for to her touch.

"I have dark, death-like energy," I grouse. "How is that attractive? I just broke two near-virgins down and made them cry." I am filled with self-loathing. I hated Brad but did I have to do what I did; no.

"Bad boys, dangerous boys – girls are drawn to the strength and violence a la the Minotaur, satyrs, dragons, and pro-wrestling villains," Regina still is taking amusement at my expense.

"Fine, what happened to Brad?" I grumble.

"I'll let you talk to the red-heads when they get back and cleaned up," Regina arches an eyebrow.

"What about Shelby Ravenrook?" I dodge that barb for a few seconds.

"She's the other Ravenrook heir, but no one has seen her in some time," Regina tells me but I knew she was holding something back.

"Who is the top dog?" I pursue.

"We haven't decided yet; we need to meet to figure that out," Regina evades. "I can tell you about that script Midnight tried to slip you – the blood actually made it too weak to work on you. The woman bled poorly – for Midnight," Regina grins. "It was an Ocular deflection ward; meant to move the creator to your peripheral vision."

"I'm going to have roll that up and stick that paper up her butt," I sigh with some amusement.

"I'd like to see that," Regina grins.

"I'm turning into a sadistic cretin; there is no need to cheer me on down that road," I grouse.

"You are what you need to be," Regina comforted me by placing her hand over mine.

"I'd rather be the man I'm supposed to be," I remained morose. I was missing something and I had little clue as to what it was.

"Girl coming at 3 o'clock," Regina interrupts my meanderings. "Russet hair, leading with her breasts though she's good enough looking."

"I know her – knew her," I turn and face my ex-girlfriend.

"Hello Sally," I mutter angrily. "Regina Ravenrook," I use my friend's true name because Sally is sequestered in the Witches' cliché, "this is Sally Fabian, my very ex-girlfriend." That last bit seems to drive the barb deep into Sally.

"I – just wanted," Sally gulps, "that I apologize for my unwarranted cruelty earlier." Regina and I stare at her; Regina with cruel amusement and me with more anger and distrust. "Um – okay." She turns and walks off.

"She'll be back," Regina whispers to me. "Her sin is Lust; that is how they got their hooks into her. You are the biggest lust-magnet on campus so she's homing in on you."

That sucks to hear because Sally and I had truly hit it off. Sure she is beautiful, with a wondrous body, fun to be with and with the right social connections but we'd been emotionally serious too. I'd never gone so far as to propose marriage but we'd talked about vacationing together and shared a few weeks away together too .

"She liked having sex with me," I snarl, "but that doesn't make her a slut or our sex sinful," I counter.

"She seeks out sexual intercourse for the sake of sexual gratification devoid of any emotional context and leaving a void once the rush is gone," Regina regales me with her understanding of the condition. "The only way out of the emotional crash is to have more sex – a vicious cycle."

"That's not the girl I remember," I furrow my brow.

"The Witches bring out that darkness we all hide inside; in her case a desire to take sexual pleasure from another, uncaring about the price paid by either participant," Regina relates.

"What is your darkness?" I regard Regina.

"I have an insatiable hunger for power," she smiles playfully. Seeing my unease, she adds, "Would you rather I lie to you, Richard?"

"No, and it is time for my next class," I get up and retrieve my backpack.

"Unless you are planning to impress the girls with the aroma of your manly conquests, and your 'fuck me hard all night long' body, you might want to change your shirt before arriving," Regina teases. I would hug the statue of Camilla Ravenrook for comfort but I'm afraid of what effect my tears might have on the stone.

"Crap-cakes," I groan then I see salvation.

"Hey Blondie," I call one of the two witches menacing Regina. Both look my way.

"Eden, get you skanky ass over here," I bark. Reluctantly they both walk my way.

"Do you have to antagonize them so?" Regina hisses to me.

"Every time I feel sorry for them I remember you in the bathroom, those two boys tied up on the table at breakfast and them I'm good with treating them this way. I'm not the 'Better Guy'," I promise. "I'm the guy who makes you regret not being better yourself."