Poe Little Witch Girl

They had arrived.

Edgar and Annabel climbed the hill and through the dense foliage toward the roar, the glow and the odor of burning logs. When they stepped into a clearing, they were stopped by the image before them. A mountain towered above them, surrounded by unassailable walls that stretched towards the stars. High above them, they heard wild drumming at irregular intervals.

"There are no mountains in Illinois," said Edgar.

"I don't think we're in Illinois any more," said Annabel.

They were not alone, staring at the mountain. Groups of other people in dark robes swayed to the music, their faces upturned toward the mountaintop, watching, waiting for someone... or something.

In the crowd, Annabel saw Judge Prospero and Beatrice. Near them was the city attorney and Cecily. None of them acknowledged Annabel, but perhaps they did not recognize her in her slutty country girl costume. She looked at Edgar and saw his face upturned as well.

From the top of the mountain, a swirl of white shadows began to descend. As they came lower, their speed increased around the mountain. Within minutes, Annabel saw that they were shades of real people, with hollowed eyes and red-rimmed mouths. And yet, they were smiling, some laughing. They embraced, and kissed and grabbed each other as they swirled about. Annabel thought they were wearing pale sheets initially, but she must have been mistaken, because closer to her, she saw that they were naked. They grabbed each other, shouting and yelling joyously. A few daring couples made love while swirling past, arms and legs stretched so that only their sexual organs joined them.

"This reminds me of a pumpkin exhibit I once saw," Edgar said.

As the swirl of white bodies came closer to those on the ground, Annabel saw a few brave onlookers step forward. They were immediately sucked into the maelstrom, their clothes shredded from their bodies. Once in the whirlwind, they were lifted toward the top of the mountain.

"I guess this is our ride," said Edgar.

"Wait!" Annabel said. "I haven't seen Lenore."

"She's already up there, I would bet," said Edgar.

Annabel saw Judge Prospero and Beatrice step forward. The judge's peachy round body tumbled in the swirl, his penis flopping like a wet rag. Beatrice's body when stripped looked grayish. Her breasts were enormous and hung toward her pouched belly. Her hips and buttocks were fleshy and pitted like cottage cheese, but there was a grateful smile upon her face as she tumbled skyward.

Cecily took the city attorney's hand. He shrugged and they stepped forward. He was lanky and white underneath his fancy suit, with a slight stoop. His legs were spindly, and his feet were flat. His coiffed gray hair swirled wildly about his face. Cecily's pencil skirt unwrapped. She darted her hands to her vagina to protect it. But within seconds, the rest of her clothing had been stripped off as well. Her auburn hair floated about her narrow shoulders. Her legs were more shapely than Annabel would have thought, and Cecily glided through the air as if swimming. She barrel-rolled and her ass was shapelier than expected. Her ribs were prominent, but only made her tiny, shapely breasts stand up.

The city attorney swung around so that he could taste those tiny tits. As he did so, Cecily stroked the side of his face.

Edgar grabbed Annabel's hand, and she squeezed back. They stepped forward. Their clothes were left behind, where they had been standing.

Annabel had sky-dived once, and this reminded her of that. But instead of falling, she was rising. Edgar seemed to enjoy floating on the whirlwind, and couldn't stop watching the many nubile, nude women who flashed past him. He was probably the only shade with such a large, raging erection.

Annabel looked beyond the images surrounding her, to the landscapes she was leaving. In one section, she saw a battlefield with trenches, artillery and the screams of the wounded. In another part, she saw the atrocities and genocide of Rwanda, with severed arms lying in a pile. She saw the Reign of Terror and its hungry guillotine, thirty million deliberately starved in Russia, two atomic bombs exploding over populated cities, the Rape of the Sabine Women, and the Clinton Campaign Headquarters. She had never imagined the scope of evil that pervaded her world.

In the next instant, she was standing atop the mountain. Edgar had been right. Lenore was there already. She was aglow in a ruby raiment that obscured none of her beautiful body. Her violet eyes seemed to burn with an internal fire. Her smile was cruel as she purred, "Welcome, my pretties."

Next to her stood a tall, muscled figure, strong as an Olympic weightlifter. His eyes were deep in dark hollows, but seemed to glow orange with amusement. His shoulders were broad, his chest expansive, his abdomen tight with muscle. But below that, where a hefty cock should be swinging, there was nothing -- he was smooth as a GI Joe doll.

"An old war wound," Lenore said, when she saw Annabel staring.

The figure seemed to grow before their eyes, becoming larger and more frightful. From behind his back, two large wings stretched to cover them all. He began to chuckle, and the deep grumble from his chest seemed to shake the mountain beneath their feet.

"It's time!" he commanded, and turned to Lenore.

Lenore was not intimidated. She sashayed before him, making sure he saw her complete body. With one extended arm, she gestured like a game show hostess, and Judge Prospero and Beatrice appeared. The looked confused, but not embarrassed.

"Lenore?" Judge Prospero said when he saw her. "How wonderful to...see you!"

His little willie struggled to show signs of life, but ultimately in vain.

"Judge Prospero, Beatrice, this is Jack Scratch," Lenore said. She turned to the massive figure.

"For each drop, one innocent soul," she reminded him. "I give you, Beatrice, the most loving and caring woman I know."

Beatrice blushed, and tried to cover her enormous breasts. She tipped her knees in together to hide her femininity.

From far below, Annabel heard a church bell tower begin its tolling of the midnight hour.

Jack Scratch chuckled, and snatched both Judge Prospero and Beatrice.

"Whoa, big fella," said Lenore. "Only the innocent one."

"Neither are innocent," Jack Scratch said. "You know Judge Prospero takes bribes. But did you know that Beatrice murdered her husband. He beat her, which she could tolerate. But when he began to beat her grandchildren, she needed to do something. So, one night when he was nodding off from using drugs, she upped the dose a bit. Quite a bit. Enough to send him to my waiting arms."

Beatrice's face turned wild, with bulging eyes and sharp teeth. She turned to Judge Prospero, and bit his arm, and he turned to run. Jack Scratch waved his finger and they both disappeared in a puff of sulfurous yellow smoke.

"Next," said Jack Scratch.

Lenore smiled. "No harm, no foul. Two for the price of one. A bargain for you."

Jack's chuckle rumbled over the mountaintop.

The city attorney and Cecily appeared. Cecily was arched slightly back, and the city attorney was using his fingers to pry apart a place for his tongue between her thighs. When he saw Lenore, he sprang to his feet. Cecily groaned, and straightened.

"Meet the city attorney and his handler, Cecily," said Lenore. "Cecily has selflessly set up a network of children's day care centers, to cater to the most vulnerable of the city's children. You won't find a more innocent women in the city of Chicago."

Jack's guffaw sounded like a clap of thunder. "Her?" he said. He snatched Cecily and the city attorney.

"Whoa, big guy. I'll give you the city attorney," said Lenore. "But, I think Cecily should be enough."

"Cecily has one face she shows the city, and another she shows to me," Jack Scratch rumbled. "She grew up in the porn industry, at least until she became too worn out to appear before cameras. She was prolific, though, and very popular. It was hard to give up her fame, but she did so. Those children's centers? She has plans set to begin January first, to use only the cutest and most vulnerable of those children in a series of kiddie porn features. Still think she's the most innocent woman in Chicago?"

Lenore tapped her chin with a long forefinger. "Nope. Take them both."

The city attorney and Cecily wrapped their arms around each other, looked into each other's eyes, and kissed. Before Annabel's eyes, they morphed into two lizards with whiplike tongues flickering the air. A puff of yellow, sulfurous smoke took them away.

The church bells tolled seven, eight, nine.

"You used three drops, Lenore," said Jack. "You owe me one more innocent soul."

"Or two damaged ones, right?" Lenore said. "Well, I present to you, Edgar and Annabel Lee. Nasty, corrupt, little vermin. Just the kind you like."

Edgar had caught on to the process by now, and had become concerned.

"Can I ask a question?" he said.

Lenore tapped her foot impatiently and threw up her arms. But Jack Scratch smiled a horrendous grin. He leaned close to Edgar and whispered, with breath like vomited whisky, "Of course."

"Well," said Edgar, "All these images, shades, people..." he swung his arm to encompass the whirlwind.

"Souls," supplied Jack.

"Whatever," Edgar said. "They seem so happy. Joyous. Delirious even. That's not what I expected."

Jack's laugh grumbled deep in his chest. "They are delirious, for a few hours one night a year. Halloween, when they are allowed to return to this mountain with me. They are happy because for a few hours one night a year on Halloween, their eternal pain has been lifted. But come midnight, they return to the most horrible tortures I can imagine for them."

Edgar nodded. "I see," he said meekly.

"Any other questions?" asked Jack.

Edgar shook his head.

"Well, there they are," said Lenore. "Take them away. They're yours. By the way, you wouldn't happen to have any more of that potion you gave me, would you?"

"I have plenty. More than you could ever use," Jack said.

Jack Scratch grabbed both Edgar and Annabel. Edgar gave her a quick kiss, and then closed his eyes. Lenore began to laugh, and rub her hands together.

"Wait," said Annabel.

"Yes," said Jack.

"I need to speak to Lenore."

"I don't want to speak with her," said Lenore. "Just take her away. We're through here."

Jack Scratch lowered Annabel so that she was facing Lenore. Annabel's naked body seemed to glow a shade of gold apart from the fires. Lenore's voluptuous body glowed a fiery red as her pale raiment fell from her shoulders.

Annabel put her arms around Lenore, and drew her close. Breasts to breasts, tummy to tummy, thighs to thighs. Lenore's arm hung at her sides. Finally, it was lips to lips -- Annabel gave Lenore a kiss on the lips. Lenore began to tremble.

"I forgive you," Annabel said.

"What?" said Edgar.

"What?" said Jack Scratch.

"Why?" said Lenore, her fingers to her lips.

Jack Scratch pulled himself to his full height, and snatched Lenore.

"You made a mistake, Lenore," Jack said. "Annabel has the capacity to forgive, even in these circumstances. I am unable to claim her soul at this time."

"I can forgive," said Lenore.

"No," Jack said, "I doubt you can."

The church bells rang ten, eleven, twelve.

A huge groan echoed over the landscape, and a crack like thunder. The mountain disappeared in a plume of yellow, sulfurous smoke.

Annabel crouched on the ground, next to her Daisy Duke costume. She slid into her short, short, short cut-off jeans, and tied the checkered shirt around her still excited breasts. Her pink trainers covered her feet.

But before she could put her long, dark hair into the stretchy braids provided, Annabel felt tugging at her hair. She looked up, and saw two angels brushing and combing her hair. Around them, a chorus of seraphim strummed lyres and harps.

"I'm not that good," Annabel protested.

A seraph touched her head and smiled. "And yet, you forgave."

The seraph took out a document and a set of keys. She handed them to Annabel.

"You own Lenore's condo now. She can't use it any longer. Now, go. Return to the city and remember what you have learned here."

They disappeared like morning mist, leaving Annabel to ponder. What was it really that she had learned?

She looked at the keys to the condo, and remembered some of Lenore's bragging. She saw the deed to the condo, and knew it must be filed.

As she drove back to Chicago, she wondered,

"What was the name of that news/weather helicopter pilot? Jerry?"

And the thought made Annabel tingle, as though a wind blew out of a cloud to chill the beautiful Annabel Lee.