I am an ugly person. Physically but not, I hope emotionally or mentally. I have been thus for the last 10 years. It was on my eighteenth birthday that I was changed into the loathsome creature I am now. My parents consulted doctors, specialists and even a herbalist but nothing helped. In desperation they consulted Mrs Smithers who was reputed to be a witch or as the people of the village called her, a canny woman. She declared that I had been cursed by a force or forces unknown to either her or me or anyone else for that matter. She did speculate that the curse had something to do with the date of my birth, being the 31st day of October or All Hallows Evening, commonly known nowadays as Halloween. She refused payment as she said she had not achieved anything.
My ugliness put people off of employing me. My family were kind and considerate but despairing. My older siblings, a sister and a brother were strong, attractive and healthy people both of whom had made careers for themselves and were both starting families of their own.
Recently a new restaurant opened in the village. The whole village was agog as there did not seem to be sufficient business for the place. Ms Anglsee, the owner of the business was a stark, tall and thin woman with midnight black hair, unblinking blue eyes and a deathly pale face. She let it be known about the village that she would be hiring staff and that experience was not a prerequisite. With little or no hope I applied for a job and after a short interview and much to my surprise I was employed as a dishwasher and general assistant. The pay was bad but it gave me some pride in being able to assist my family with my meagre earnings.
I saw very little of Ms Anglsee except when she needed to instruct me personally otherwise she left my direction to the woman who arrived with her, a Mrs Jones who was her cook and it seemed, her confidant.
Mrs Smithers the canny woman advised against my taking the job as she did not trust Ms Anglsee. She said Ms Anglsee did not "smell" right but I was desperate and I ignored her advice.
Once established the restaurant settled into a quiet steady business with much speculation that as there was so little business the place would shut down soon. It didn't. It slowly garnered a small following of locals and became popular with passing trade.
I was never hard pressed with work and I was treated with a sort of indifferent respect.
At the beginning of October a month before my coming of age the dreams started. They always started with me walking down a darkened passage ending in a sickly, faint yellow glow. I could hear but not see fell creatures ahead in the shadows. The sound was a soft but sibilant whispering. Somehow the sound was threatening making me want to turn around and walk away but the dreams did not allow my retreat and I was forced to head toward the sound and the further I walked down the passage the more threatening the sounds became and the more sickly and putrescent the yellow glow at the end corridor seemed. By the 15th of the month the yellow glow had taken form and I could see vertical black jail cell bars that writhed and twisted as I walked toward it. To one side of the writhing bars was a closed door.
As the month progressed so the sounds slowly morphed into the sounds of dark, violent sex. I started to hear flesh striking flesh, a male voice grunting with effort and a female voice that alternated between passion, pain and fear.
The change in sounds had a profound effect on me. Instead of fear I now was driven forward by an irresistible urge to rescue the woman from the abuse she was enduring. Each night I would get that little bit closer to the door that was barely visible at the end of the passage. Finally two days before my birthday, I made it to the door and pushed it quietly open and looked in. By the flickering light of a dark candle I could see a woman bent over a chair, her arms on the arms of the chair, her body exposed and vulnerable. A man with his back to me, with only his pants down round his ankles was pounding into the woman, making her jerk forward with each thrust and at the end of each thrust the man would slap his hand down on the woman's buttocks. Hard, merciless.
I was horrified and wanted to barge in and rescue the woman, but an instant before I stepped forward, I recognised the woman. It was Ms Anglsee, but she was to some extent not Ms Anglsee. Her body was partially deformed, twisted, misshapen and in that moment I realised that her few deformations looked like the those that had plagued me for years but as I watched, the deformations disappeared and she became the Ms Anglsee that I recognised. Suddenly the man, stopped moving, his hips grinding into the woman, hands holding her tightly against him. Then he pulled his cock out and sprayed cum up her back in a dark spray.
"There, that will keep you beautiful and him ugly." the man finally ground out. "Just remember, do not let him make you cum or cum inside of you because if you do all will be reversed and you will be the broken ugly witch that you really are."
Ms Anglsee stood up slowly, stiffly, walked to a desk and picked up a handful of bank notes and handed them to the man.
"You enjoy that don't you?"
"Yes. Every year I get to fuck you, slap that arse of yours and dump cum on your back. And you pay me for the pleasure. What is not to like."
"This is the last time though isn't it? If I can keep him under control, not let him fuck me or cum in me the fix is permanent, then you lose out don't you?"
"You are becoming old and tiresome and I am glad this is now all over. I won't have to fuck you again."
"Good bye and good riddance to bad rubbish!"
He just laughed and as he turned toward the doorway I was in his face lit by the candle and I realised that the man was my father. Terrified I turned and fled back up the passage gasping, crying and stumbling, until finally the dream ended.
The next morning I visited Ms Smithers and told her the whole dream. She listened intently only stopping me to ask questions or to clarify some point. When I had finished she sighed.
"I have known for years that your father was a powerful magician and that he stayed away from his domain in the big city to keep his family free from his bad influences. I think that he was forced to come here with her to complete the spell. Either he is getting weak or she is, but whatever happened the spirits of good found a way to show you the truth. What can you do with that truth is another thing entirely. Let me think about it and we can talk tomorrow."
I hurried off to work and was scolded by Mrs Jones for being late.
"Tomorrow is Halloween and we have a closed function. Ms Anglsee is hosting some friends and she has ordered that you stand behind her during the dinner to serve her every need."
I was horrified at the thought of being exposed to Ms Anglsee's friends like some sort of mascot and I realised that I was going to shown off as a trophy. The recipient of all her witch's deformities. I hurried to Mrs Smithers who only nodded, then handed me a small bottle.
"Make sure that she drinks all of this. You can put it in her wine at the beginning of dinner."
"Is it poison? If she dies then I will be normal?"
