Part 2: Whatever Happened To Tracey?
As soon as Tracey exited the elevator to the third floor, she could hear her roommate Jewel moaning and screaming. Tracey smiled deliciously, everything was coming to fruition. It had been four years since she entered this world and in that four years she hasn't aged, she never would. She would never age, never gain weight, never have to worry about getting old and never have to worry about dying. She would never lose her tan, her tits would always be perky, and her pussy would forever be tight.
She glanced around the apartment hallway, Jewel's moans were getting louder. Her screams, echoing through the hall. Tracey had been waiting for this moment ever since she met Jewel and convinced her to be her roommate. Tracey knew Jewel would be perfect. Perfect for her and perfect for her plans. Tracey couldn't help but feel the charge of excitement rise from the depths of her stomach, both from hearing Jewel in sexual bliss as she approached and knowing that finally everything was about begin.
Tracey stopped in front of door. Number three twenty-one, their apartment. Tracey pressed her ear against the door. She smiled and licked her lips, Sam and Adrian had done exactly what she had hoped, what she had wanted them to do. She couldn't stand them herself, but she knew of Jewel's obsession with their kind. Tracey had known this because she was constantly going into Jewel's room when she was at school. She would go through her photo albums, her notes and of course, Jewel's computer.
She knew almost every about Jewel. About her family, friends, ex-boyfriends, she knew about Jewel's brief experience's with women. She also knew about everyone of Jewel's sex desires and wants. And that was the information Tracey was most concerned about. Tracey now heard Jewel loud and very clear through the door
"Cum in my fucking ass, Sam. Shoot so deep in to me, it doesn't come out for days!" Jewel command from inside the apartment.
Everything she had been planning ever since that day was coming together, right behind that door.
Tracey thought about how she had gotten this far and how she almost never got there. Her thoughts slipped backwards to that morning. That morning after she came through the mirror...
"Finally I am free."
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Tracey ran out of the house, her red fuzzy robe clutched tight against her, screaming for help. The flames behind her were wild and out of control. She spun around, towards the house, screaming for her mother, Ellen. Most of the small community was gone that weekend, the few that had remained came outside. If only to see why the young woman was screaming. And only one of the neighbors, a Honey TreeFeather, came over to actually comfort Tracey, who at this point had fallen to her knees. Honey sat next to Tracey, holding and rocking her. Tracey, continued to scream for her mother. A mother who never came out of that burning house.
Tracey stayed on her knees and just wept into Honey's arms and shoulders, on the dry grass. It wasn't until after the fire engines left. That police cars had drivin away and the fire was finally snuffed out that Honey brought Tracey to her feet and brought her over to her house. The house that was just next door.
Honey TreeFeather was shunned by most of the town. She was known as the local crazy. She was twenty-six years old, but to the rest of the tiny community, she might as well be the crazy old shut in. A witch they called her, and for the most part they were right. She more than dabbled into the occult, she was a Hedge Priestess, the part taker of "White Magic." To her it was religion, to everyone else it was evil and wrong. If this didn't make her an outcast, then the fact that she was the only non-white in the area made that only more apparent. She never let on to where she was from, but from her light brown skin, thick black hair and accent most guessed she was a Mexican.
Honey was also shorter and rounder then Tracey. At five foot and one hundred and fifty pounds, she still put one of Tracey's arms around her shoulder and helped her through the front door into her house. It entered to the living room, which was dark and dusty. It that smell of a grandparents house. The carpet was brown and matted with a horrible plaid style. The room only housed two very off white chairs and a blacked brick fireplace.
Honey placed Tracey into one of the chair and went off to get her some water. Tracey sat there her eyes closed and her red, fuzzy robe still wrapped tightly against her. She held her head in her hands, sliently. Honey walked back into the room and stood in front of Tracey. Tracey slowly lifted her head up and looked over Honey.
She was wearing a long black skirt that was frayed and torn at the bottom. As the sitting girl moved her eyes upward she saw a the black corset that held her naturally round body tight. Yet it extenuated the curves of her hips and breasts. Tracey then looked up at her face, her exotic facial features and long thick curly hair made her look untamed. The black hair sprawled around her face and into the space around it.
As Honey handed Tracey the glass of water, their eyes meet. IN that exact moment, fear and a sense of something dark, and unnatural filled Honey's senses. She felt evil, and knew the girl in that chair was not Tracey. Honey did her best not to show any trace of the way she felt this. And she believed that she done just that. Tracey took the glass, looked down at the water then drank it.
"Ugg, thank you Honey!" Tracey said softly before taking another sip.
"Don't worry about it dear. You just drink and rest now. You've been through a lot today. Now, while you rest, I have to go straighten up in the basement for a bit. Just sit there and relax," Honey said as she started to walk away briskly. Tracey eyed her as she left the room. She took another sip of water.
Honey didn't look back. She knew something was seriously off. She made her way down the wooden dusty stairs, continued past the cobweb covered boxes and into a room in the back. She opened the wood door and closed it quietly behind her. She walked carefully to the middle of the pitch black room. She reached for the hanging string that, when pulled it, turned on a very low light bulb.
The room lit up and revealed a large wooden alter with various object laiden upon it. A wooden mortar and pestle, various dried plants, herbs and also an assortment of multicolored liquids. On the cement floor below her, in white chalk, was a beautifully drawn large pentagram within a circle.
Honey quickly moved in front of the alter, chanting in Latin. She moved about, placing several of the dried ingredients into the mortar and began smashing them with the pestle. Her chanting changed from Latin, into another old dead language.
"Achtime. Memoname. Drafarah. Laetvasha. Jear'ok'lar. Larvachar."
Honey moved about the alter, her skirt flowed along the concrete floor swept gray dust up onto it. Her corset that barely moved. was pressed and tied tightly against her larger, curved body. When she had finished grounding, she added a deep almost glowing blue liquid from a vial on the alter. The concoction began to bubble a bit. Honey moved into the middle of the pentagram circle and kneeled in the center, rocking and chanting.
"Adrainama. Brabic. Ven'an'lad. Colmina...." She continued.
"Not the best thing for you to be doing don't you think? Tracey interupted, standing behind Honey. Her red robe was open. Her naked body exposed.
Honey, startled, turned around quickly, dropping the mortar onto the circle. The blue liquid contents seeped out onto the pentagram and Honey fell onto her back. Propped up by her elbows Honey stared back at Tracey.
"Oops, did I ruin your little magic trick?" Tracey said bring her hands up in a questioning manner.
"What kind of devilry are you?" Honey asked as she backed up, using her arms and feet.
Tracey laughed and shook her head. She moved slowly towards Honey. Her breasts swayed slightly in rhythm with her hips. Her pussy was now completely bare shaven, very unlike it had been that very same morning. The lips between her legs were very pink and pouted. Honey continued to back away till she her back was against the wooden alter.
