Burn: A Witchbane Novella by Morgan Brice

Burn: A Witchbane Novella by Morgan Brice

Author:Morgan Brice [Brice, Morgan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781939704788
Publisher: Darkwind Press
Published: 2018-09-26T04:00:00+00:00


The Breezewood Horror House looked the part, with trails of yellow police tape flapping in the breeze and the dim, flickering security light. All they needed was ominous movie music, Evan thought as he climbed off the bike and waited while Seth walked it into the shadows. They paused in a dark spot to pull a few weapons from the bag before Seth zipped it back up and hefted it himself, not offering an explanation. Evan couldn’t help feeling like he’d been somehow demoted.

He remembered the fear in Ricky’s voice when the bartender had mentioned the childhood friend gone missing. That hadn’t been contrived, and it certainly wasn’t part of a pick-up line. Ricky had been genuinely scared. Evan thought about the pattern of disappearances and wondered what unholy bargain bound the house and the witch together. Given how long people had been vanishing, whoever angered the witch or made a deal with her was probably long dead, well beyond mortal ability to punish. That mattered less than stopping the cycle and freeing Breezewood from its grim annual harvest.

They looked up at the “haunted” old house from the front. The peeling paint and splintered casements suggested that without serious renovation, the historic home would not survive many more seasons. “Cops tore the inside apart looking for the missing teens,” Seth said, all business. “And you’ve seen the promo shots of the interior—it’s movie props and high school drama department-level staging. No real antiques, no family heirlooms.”

“So nothing that was likely to anchor a witch,” Evan supplied.

Seth gave a curt nod, grudging approval. “Yeah. So there’s got to be something else. Let’s have a look around.”

They circled the wood frame house and spotted a small, overgrown stone building toward the back edge of the property. “What’s that?” Evan asked.

“Looks like a spring house,” Seth replied, training his green-filtered flashlight on the crumbling masonry. The small stone shed was built of stacked stone with a shingle roof, about the size of a large closet. It looked older than the main house, and Evan remembered that wooden homes often burned and were rebuilt. He eyed the structure, wondering what secrets it held. They both selected weapons from the cache and stood back to survey the territory.

“I’m going to lay down a salt circle, and you can cover me,” Seth said. “I’ll be bait.”

Evan shook his head. “Fuck that. You shoot, I’ll draw it out.”

“I am not using you for bait.”

Something in the tone of Seth’s pronouncement raised Evan’s hackles.

“Because you don’t think I can handle it?”

“This is not the time.”

“Then lay down the goddamn circle and let me do what I can do!”

She was on them before Seth had finished the salt circle. Muma Pǎdurii, Boo Hag, or Old Nonna, the witch-ghost swept down onto them like the wrath of God, shrieking with a voice like steel against slate and clawing at them with her sharp nails.

The hag hit Evan first, knocking him away from the protective circle, sending him staggering and then tackling him to the ground with unexpected strength.



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