Tag: witch

Curious Gaze – Very Short Story

In the woods, along the river Great, there was a cottage far from any other homes. The forest was dark, with deep chasms and gnarly roots growing in a patchwork of threads, and nobody would set foot in these parts. Yet there the cottage lay, lonely from any curious gaze; which was how they liked it. In this home, there lived three witches, and their powers were only rivalled by themselves, for they had passion in what they did – to outdo the other – and surely, there was none more passionate than they.

They knew secrets about the world (and others yet conceived by any other) and they loved to outdo one another in their spells. Puffs of green and red would spark in the night, for nighttime was the only time for magic, they often said. At day, the world was as it has always been – it is what we all see. But at night, it is different, and many secrets can be found where normal people don’t look. And normal, they were not, at least not in the eyes of one man; a straggler that had wandered poorly, taking paths he thought he knew – moving against common sense towards the witches hut.

At first, the puffs of colours had sparked his amaze! And without knowing its source and intent, all he saw was the beauty that was manifested. But as he got closer, seeing now the cottage in its dilapidated glory, shabby, and part of nature, he heard the cackles of the three witches as they congratulated one another on another successful spell. But their congrats were only half sincere, for they were proud beings and they would do better than the other and show who had the greatest powers. Though his heart new the voice only spelt trouble, he moved forward for he had not listened to his senses from the very beginning, why start now? It was not hard to get closer unnoticed, for though the witches were powerful, they were not without fault. They did not expect any strangers to brave their forest, much less approach, thus they expected none.

The man, now trembling, peeked through the glassless window, showing as little of his face as he could, and gazed only with one curious eye. The inside was as dark as the forest, but every now and again, when puffs of colours engulfed the room, he could make out what the witches looked like. At first, he had a clear picture of their countenances, resembling more that of a rat and hog than a human being. But in other moments, and between spells, their faces were different and they laughed in their cackling ways as they outdid one another.

“Good, good,” one of them said, only immediately to supersede the other by a motion of her hand and a few choice words. PUFF! The colours sparked, and their faces were different anew. Indeed, the entire inside was not as it were before, but a burning landscape of charcoal trees and panicked animals skittering! The witches laughed and peered at their making, delighted in what they saw. But the man who had seen all of it, his nerves finally broke and he sent out a shriek as if his very flesh was burning of his bones. But as he lost his grip on the wooden frame, he landed in the grass and felt the cool wind blow against his face. The cottage was again lifeless and part of nature. But it was also silent, as if though none was ever there.

Indeed it might as well be, for the man did not recall what he had seen. He tried hard to recollect but as he came out blank, he began to wander home, whichever way he thought was right. But within just a few steps, he crashed into a tree on the left part of his face. He was baffled, how had he missed the giant tree? He felt upon his left eye, the very same he had spied upon the witches, to only find a hollow where the eye should have been. A spark of pain shot through him, for though his mind was lacking, his body recalled, and he listened for once to his senses and ran as fast, and as far away as he could, leaving once more the witches to practice their craft without any curious gaze. 

© Christopher Stamfors

Artwork by ChrisCold

by Stamphers

Lonely Road – Very Short Story

Have you ever walked a lonely road at the dead of night? When a few leafs still sway on the naked branches, refusing to be whisked away by the wind? When all that is ahead of you, and all that is behind you, is darkness? Making you wonder why you braved such an ominous night, to begin with?

I have, and I wouldn’t have dared such a venture if it wasn’t for the charm that I clutch to my chest whenever I’m out and about. Looking at it now, it’s a strange item, for several reasons: it’s shaped in a perfect sphere with inscriptions in a tongue that look far too foreign to be pronounced. Not that I would be able to read it properly, anyway, for the charm is scorched in black, giving a scent of burnt flesh and lavender… It isn’t a pleasant smell. Yet, it held me strong several times through the forest and back again.

Charms aren’t something a gentleman ought to have, I understand this, for I too was one of those that held such a mind in these mysterious things; a mystery no less attributed to the ones that make them. However, I was lucky to have encountered one and I sincerely hope you’ll too change your mind after reading this: It all started one evening in east part of town where the soot from the factories lay thick on the houses and on the streets. It was not a path I usually took, mind; frankly, it’s the part of town a civilised person ought to avoid. Yet there I was, strolling about for no particular reason whatsoever. I can’t say what was on my mind that day, only that I had a strong urge, or perhaps it was a premonition? Whatever may be the case, the urge led me through the alleys until I found a strange looking shed made of wood that stood out amongst the brick walls and copper ceilings. The shed was heavily dilapidated, too, with loose planks and obvious infestation of fungus, yet, it emitted a sense of cleanliness for the soot hardly touched the shed – as if an aura of country-air emanated from it. 

I entered the shed without apprehension (though I should have), the inside seemed bigger than the outside, but not by much. Perhaps it was all the oddities hanging on the walls? The small figurines and jars filled with liquid and strange creatures that made it look bigger than it was? In either case, there was a lady behind the counter, looking at me as if expecting me. I pardoned myself, of course, for I didn’t know if it was a store or a poor home I’d entered. She assured me she was selling. And before I could ask what that was, she brought out the strange looking charm which I now clutch in stormy nights.

She was well versed in the horrors that had befallen the town, almost intimately so for she described vividly what was lurking… Perhaps I should have asked her how she knew this but I didn’t have the sense at the time as I was too enthralled by her words and cunning. I was certain she knew what she was talking about and accepted the charm without hesitation. She didn’t want anything in return, strangely enough. My gratitude, spoken verbally, was all she wanted. I, however, as the gentleman I am, promised to return the next day if the charm ended up working to give her her proper due. But when I returned, every trace of her and the shed was gone from existence, even the memory was gone, except the very fact that it was a woman and there had been a shed of some kind.

I chose not to question what I had seen and felt blessed for the gift. Even my beloved, who has had trouble conceiving, got pregnant a few weeks later. I pray that the child will be healthy and that we one day will be rid of the monsters which stalk our town so my child can move freely without fear, as all children should. 

© Christopher Stamfors

Featured image by ChrisCold

by Stamphers