Part I: Anja learns about her family's dark past, and makes a discovery along the way.
Rain pattered against Anja's tent. The wind blew from the north, rustling the trees around her. She heard a crash in the not so distant woods, like a large animal was thrashing about in the undergrowth. Later she would see that a large limb had fallen out of a tree from high up, but in the moment, all she could do was hope it wasn't a bear. Anja's journey had started six months prior - she and her long-time boyfriend had parted ways. He had accepted a job offer half-way around the world that offered him an insane amount of money. They parted ways, and she decided it was time to begin again. So, Anja put everything she owned in storage, packed a big backpack, and set out for her father's family's homeland of Germany.
After six months of living with relatives and piecing the story of her father's family together she had discovered a lot of dark history that no one had ever told her. It turned out there was a good reason she felt so disconnected from the rest of the world - no less than three women had been burned at the stake, accused and found guilty of witchcraft. Anja didn't believe in magic herself, and knew that historically, the women who were considered witches were simply the wise-women, midwives, healers, and keepers of secrets. There were no women standing over cauldrons, listing off ridiculous ingredients, spouting poems that rhymed, casting spells on the innocents.
Regardless, she found that the modern witch movement clung to many of the classical practices of those women who came before, and expanded on it. Though she didn't believe directly in magic, she did realize that she had something in common with many of the modern witches - she loved hiking and being out in nature; she was drawn to the moon, especially the full moon; she had always preferred natural remedies to over-the-counter pharmaceuticals; there was nothing as satisfying as feeding her friends a good meal; she collected pretty and interesting rocks, and even learned the meaning of many of them; she wore a Fairy Stone, also known as a Hag Rock - a small stone with a naturally made hole in it - on a piece of leather around her neck. All this weirdness made it hard to make friends, regardless she was drawn to others like herself, and had established her "tribe". Anja had always thought she was a misfit of sorts, and had learned to embrace her weirdness while she was young. The result was that she didn't often fit into the standard social groups, and she didn't try to fit in. She found her friends slowly but surely, regardless, or perhaps because of her weirdness.
In addition to the witches in her family's past, there were also bandits, highwaymen, robbers, and two serial killers in her family line, so it was no surprise to learn that her family name carried a heavy weight in her native land, which was one reason it had been hard to find her family there - they had changed their name! Even with such a dark history, she was undeterred, and dug deeper into her family history, even going so far as to track down a piece of land that belonged to the family. It turned out that the family had left the land behind because they believed it was haunted, and that there was an evil presence on it.
She found the land, and on it, an abandoned house. In the house were innumerable treasures. Nothing except time had touched the house in ages. It was fully furnished, and equipped. There were unopened cans of food in the pantry; every room was covered in a thick layer of dust; cobwebs hung from the doorways and blew in the slight breeze she created walking through the house. It was a grand, two-story house, with a sweeping staircase that dominated the downstairs foyer. Her favorite room, though, was the library. Someone had been there at some point and covered all of the furniture with sheets. On a settee, in a big bay window, the sheet covering it had signs of having been sat on. A broken window had been boarded up, and there were ashes in the fireplace. The library was the model of an old world, well maintained, and loved library. The floors were covered in lush carpets; there were big comfy chairs to sit and read in, not scattered around the room, but carefully arranged so as to always be in good, natural light. As the sun moved, so did the reader. The shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, complete with a ladder that rolled on a track. There wasn't a speck of dust on the books. She spent hours perusing the shelves. It was there she found it: a Grimoire.
The book was bound in animal skin, with a lock on it that had long since been broken. Inside she found recipes for many remedies. At least in the front half of the book. However, as she got towards the back, the recipes and their uses became darker and darker. Her head had grown heavy, and she fell asleep on a settee that stood in a big bay window with the perfect light for reading in the afternoon. Anja dreamed. She dreamed of dark forests, and women being chased through the woods. She watched a woman be captured, tested, tried, and burned as a witch. Then she realized she was the witch being burned alive.
Anja sat upright, gasping. Her dream was so real, she swore she could feel the flames licking up her legs and setting her on fire. She rubbed her legs and examined them. Running up her legs were scorch marks, and the soles of her feet were blistered - evidence consistent with having been burned alive. She could even smell burning flesh. Something told Anja that it was no mere dream, but a memory. A memory carried in her DNA. She shivered, and getting up from the settee, she ambled over to the fireplace. There was freshly chopped wood stacked up neatly next to the fireplace, and a bucket of kindling. It didn't take her long to get a fire going.
She spent that night, and the next month, in the old house. She read the grimoire over and over again, trying to understand it. The first two-thirds of the book was straight forward enough, but it was the last third that confused her. It was written in an ancient script, and though there were occasionally words she understood, most of it was unknown to her. But that didn't stop her from trying. In addition, she found two other grimoires in a library in the basement that was equal in size to the one above it, but there was no natural light. Instead, she had to use lamps and candles, and light from the fireplace, to see anything. It was in the basement library, after she tripped over a rug, that she discovered the large pentagram, inside a circle, with strange markings written along the outside and inside of the circle surrounding the pentagram. It was hidden under the carpet, set flat into the stone floor in silver. There was white, red, and black wax dripped on the floor at the points of the star, and at intervals around the circle. Whether Anja believed in witches and witchcraft or not no longer mattered - there were at least occultists, and evidence pointed towards practicing witches, in her family.
One night in early October, tired from reading all day, she stumbled up the stairs to the bedroom she was sleeping in, opened the wrong door, and found herself face to face with an old woman. An old woman who looked remarkably similar to herself. Anja staggered back and put her hands up to defend herself, but soon realized it was only a painting. The old woman stood as tall as Anja, her frame was strong, and her skin tight against her muscles. Her hair was gray, with dark black streaks through it. A white streak hung from her temples. Anja realized she was looking into a room she hadn't explored yet. The room was packed full of furniture, with the painting leaning against a chair, facing the doorway. There was a name at the bottom, set on the frame on a brass label: Anna Isolde von Messerschmidt. Her own name was Anja Isolde Schmidt. Anja stepped into the room, blew the cobwebs off of the painting, picked it up, and took it to her room. She leaned it against the wall at the foot of her bed, lit several candles and placed them around the painting, climbed into the big bed, and studied the woman in the painting until she fell asleep.
That night, instead of dreaming of being burned alive, she dreamed of a demon, big and red, with horns, wings, claws, hooved feet, and the cliche vipergatted tale. Instead of being the witch in her dream, she watched as the demon hunted the woman from the painting through the woods. Anna wasn't afraid of it though. In fact, she led the demon on a chase, and frustrated him time and again by escaping his grasp every time he reached out for her. Anna led him through the woods to a rocky outcropping that looked out over a river valley. Lights of all sorts lit up the valley below, and she could hear the sounds of celebrations and laughter on the wind. The moon was full, lighting the scene beautifully. It was very idyllic. Except for Anna standing on a great slab of dark marble, with inscriptions on it Anja couldn't make it, but they were somehow familiar to her.
Anna watched the demon break through the trees and enter the clearing where she stood. The demon approached as Anna reached up and untied the drawstring at the neck of her dress. The garment fell to the ground in a heap at her feet. Anja watched then as the demon stepped forward. Anna was naked now, lying on the slab of stone. It must've been cold, because her nipples were hard. The demon approached Anna, and unceremoniously grabbed her by her hips, and mounted her. The demon roared as he took Anna. But she wasn't scared, nor seemed to be in any discomfort. In fact, she was smiling. Anna was enjoying her tryst in the woods with the demon. They both seemed to climax at the same time.
As he finished, the demon turned and looked directly at Anja with his glowing yellow eyes!
