Thanks to Snowbear for editing!
This is an entirely fictional story.
CW: Nonconsent, horror, loss of pregnancy, revenge, witchcraft.
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It's been two weeks since Shane ghosted me. I'm gazing at the reflection of my flickering candlelight and ritual spread in the dark, weeping window pane, rain pattering softly outside my apartment. The kettle screams. I pull out a brown mug from the cabinet and submerge a teabag-- black leaves and a spiral of molasses on top. Steam fogs my glasses temporarily as I pour. When it fades I set the kettle back on the stove, the coil still red-hot, and it cries out again, the sound filling every corner of my small studio. It eases as I switch off the burner and return to my post.
The cards watch me as I sit, as I curl my fingers around the mug, and blow.
Why did he leave.
Empress.
Where did he go.
Ace of Stones.
What will I do.
Lord of Stones.
I stare down at them, make sense of their mystery. I nod my head once and stand again, carrying my candle and tea to the other side of the room, Charlie standing into an arched stretch and stomping off my pillow to duck under the bed. Sitting on the bed I tuck my legs under me and breathe, closing my eyes. Empress. Ace. Lord. A story forms in my mind, filling the gaps left from Shane's ghosting. A sexy young thing. The allure of something better. Newer. Younger. I should have known. Should have thought twice before opening myself to someone his age. Of course. I can almost see her, this blonde thing. She's meek, quiet except when it's delightful not to be, with a bright laugh. She probably waxes her cunt.
I swirl the tea in my mug and close my eyes. A deep breath and then another. The whisper of a chant begins on my breath. A sip of tea passes over my tongue. I repeat this until my tea is gone, and then I lie back in my bed. When the candle finishes burning down to the brass, the spell is complete.
When I open my eyes there is only darkness.
We're here.
In the distance, like a stage play in the void, I see a knight bursting in through a red door. Shane's bedroom. There they are, of course. Shane and his new blonde, her body tangled where mine once belonged. Her yellow hair is fanned out on my old pillow, and before the knight steps forward, for just a moment, I see only Shane's face between her legs, and her taut chest heaving in the blacklight. Then there is a struggle. Shane tries valiantly--fuck him for that. Eventually my knight drags the girl away, and towards me. Shane's body is left unconscious beside the bed.
The blonde is thrown at my feet, clutching desperately at herself for the comfort of modesty. The knight stands behind her, ensuring she remains kneeling before me. Finally she calms and looks up at me, and sees the light of my ruby ring shining like Mars in the night sky.
It only takes her a moment to put the pieces together, because of course she's smart, too. Shane wouldn't have it any other way, would he.
"I didn't know," she says with a small voice. I calmly meet her gaze. "Didn't know what?" I want her to say it.
"He... was engaged." I make no movement to speak. She swallows thickly. "You were engaged to him... to Shane," she manages. My eyes are dry and hateful and I can feel my upper lip curling in revulsion. I lower my gaze and finger the test in my lap.
"Oh!" She says too loudly. "You're pregnant?" I want to destroy her for the surprise in her voice.
"Was."
There is a long silence. I stand, dropping the test in my seat and kneeling in front of her.
"How does it feel," I say to her at eye-level, my fingers grazing her delicate jawline, "Knowing you fell for a man capable of such a thing?"
