Page 18 of Wedded Witch

The road ahead forks, one path leading toward the high priestesses’ house and sacred gardens. The other, according to the map I studied back at the motel, takes me to the cliffs by the secret beach. I pause, heart thudding in my chest.

The priestesses’ house is closer – and more important. I live in a coven, I’m not oblivious to the set up of this town. There’s similarities to home. It sits at the centre of the curse, the supposed birthplace of whatever destroyed Spells Hollow.

But the beach…calls to me. My family would probably say that’s where the first signs of darkness in this world were seen. Where the water started to turn foul, and the land became corrupted. They’d warn me to stay away from any unknown body of water.

Both places pull at me, like they’re each waiting for me, calling me.

I choose the house.

Massive, looming, and suffocating.

The building looks almost untouched by time, but the air around it is thick with dread. The high priestesses’ house is supposed to be the centre of the town, where the rituals were performed before everything spiralled into chaos.

The front door is wide open, creaking on its hinges. It almost feels like an invitation. The kind you shouldn’t accept.

I step inside.

It’s dark, the air stale. The wooden floor creaks beneath me, and the smell of something faintly metallic lingers in the air. The main hall stretches before me, narrow and endless. Dust hangs thick in the air, disturbed only by my movements. The house feels bigger on the inside, almost too big, like the walls are shifting, expanding.

A shadow shifts in the corner of my vision.

I freeze, heart pounding in my throat. There’s a figure at the end of the hall.Or is there?It’s hard to tell in the gloom. I squint, taking a slow, cautious step forward.

And then the figure moves—slight, almost imperceptible, but unmistakable.

I’m not alone.

I stand frozen, staring at the shadowy figure at the end of the hall. My breath catches in my throat, every instinct screaming at me to back away, but I force myself to take another step.

It’s just your mind playing tricks.

The house is old, abandoned…maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s someone else. Maybe it’s no one.

The figure shifts again, this time more pronounced. It’s tall, looming, and utterly still now, as if it’s waiting for me to move.

Nope, not waiting around to find out.

I back up slowly, keeping my eyes locked on whatever it is, my footsteps soft against the creaky floorboards. The air grows heavier, pressing in from all sides, and I swear the walls seem to be breathing, expanding around me.

There’s a faint sound now. A low hum, barely audible, coming from behind the figure. No – it’s coming from all around me. The house itself. My chest tightens.

I can’t breathe right. I take another step back and my heel catches on something, causing me to stumble. For a split second, I lose sight of the figure, and when I blink, it’s gone.

I whip around, scanning the room, but there’s nothing there. Just the dusty old house, empty and decayed. My pulse races.

I’m out of here.

Spinning on my heel, I make my way back toward the front door, the building groaning behind me. I hadn’t realised just how far into the house I’d ventured.

As I step outside, the air is cool, almost refreshing compared to the suffocating atmosphere inside. But the oppressive feeling lingers in my chest, like something has followed me out.

I glance back at the high priestesses’ house one last time. The open door sways slightly in the breeze. No figure. No movement within.

But I know something was there.

I hurry down the overgrown path, the woods seeming darker now, denser. It’s starting to get dark and the feeling of wrongness is intensifying.

How long was I in there? I swear I just had breakfast.