Blood Curse

I don’t remember when it started exactly. It’s been this way for as long as I can remember. I’ve always been different; been able to do things. My parents always told me to keep it a secret. That others wouldn’t understand. So that’s what I did, or at least that’s what I tried to do. I would slip up here and there—lose control at certain times. Nothing too major, always something that could be explained away. It wasn’t until I was 13 that my parents finally gave me an explanation. That was when I found out…I was a witch.

At first, I didn’t believe them. There was no way that I, Wynter Morgan, was a witch. But the more they told me, the more it made sense. The Morgans had been witches for generations, dating back to the Salem witch trials. They had even dug up one of my ancestors’ journals from that time for me to read. I always wondered why they kept it from me for so long, but to this day they’ve never given me a satisfying answer.

After that, my life consisted of going to school, working on my practice, and trying to find anything I could about my bloodline. Until today, that is. Today, we’re moving. It’s been 4 years since my parents dropped that info bomb on me, and here we are packing up our lives to move to a small town 15 miles outside of Salem, Massachusetts. My grandfather recently passed away and since my mom was an only child, everything he owned was left to her, including the old family estate. I couldn’t say that I’d miss Arizona. I was never a fan of the desert heat.

Nonetheless, moving all the way to the other side of the country wasn’t exactly what I would call ideal. Thankfully, both my parents’ jobs wouldn’t be affected by the move. My father was a firefighter and would just transfer stations, and my mother was an author, so she could write anywhere.

“Wynter, are you almost done with your room, dear?” my mother called up from the kitchen.

“Almost,” I called back.

I looked around at what was once my room. The walls were bare, and the floor was littered with boxes. All my little knick knacks were either wrapped in bubble wrap or already packed. I had packed the rest of my things, like my clothes and bedding, but I wanted to take my time packing all my breakables. It was a long drive, and I didn’t want to risk breaking anything on the way. As I wrapped my last snow globe in bubble wrap and placed it in the box, I couldn’t help but feel a bit sad. This was the house I grew up in and now I was leaving it behind, not knowing if or when I’d return to it.

I let out a small sigh and picked up my ancestors’ journal once more. Her name was Amelia, and she was only 19 when she was accused and tried as a witch. Her accuser was actually her boyfriend, Evan Mikhale. He didn’t have any tangible proof, just his word. But Salem and the surrounding villages were already in such an uproar that that was all he needed. The two young lovers were together for almost 2 years, so Amelia thought it would be safe to share her secret with him. She thought that their love was stronger than the hysteria that had taken hold of the town. When he left that night, however, Amelia could sense that she had made a mistake.

She then decided to write down everything she could for the future generations of Morgans before the townspeople came for her. She wrote as many spells, rituals, and life stories as she could before it was too late. She then gave the journal to her younger sister to keep safe. Amelia decided to stay behind and sacrifice herself to give her family a chance to escape. And that was the last thing she wrote. I had done a bit of research on her and found out she was burned at the stake. I tried to track down more of her journals but was unsuccessful. I could only hope that they were packed away somewhere at the estate. Snapping out of my thoughts, I put down the journal and taped the last box shut.

I stood up, stretching my legs and back before making my way downstairs where my mother was packing the kitchen and my father was packing the living room.

“Oh, Wynter, is your room all packed, sweetheart?” my dad asked, looking up from the box he was currently trying to shove more stuff into.

“I think so. Did the moving company call back?” I asked, sitting on the couch.

“Yeah, they should be here in about two hours.”

I nodded and let a comfortable silence fall over us as I listened to the clanking sound of pots and pans from the kitchen and my father’s irritated mumbling. Before I knew it, everything was packed up and making its way onto the moving truck, and we were off to start our new life across the country in the town of Witchitan, Massachusetts.

Over 40 hours later, we pulled up to the house as the sun was rising, and I don’t think I’d ever been so happy to get out of a car in my life. I took a deep breath and stretched as I tried to regain feeling in my legs from being stuck in the car for so long.

As my parents were directing the moving trucks where they wanted them, I took a moment to look up at the house. It was big—bigger than our old house—and it was old. You could tell someone took care of it though. There was no paint chipping or broken windows, and the front lawn was well kept. I half expected to see the stereotypical haunted house when we finally pulled up to it, but that wasn’t the case here.

“Wynter, come help grab boxes!” my father called out, breaking me from my train of thought.

“Coming!”

We spent the rest of the day unloading the moving trucks, and as the movers were leaving, we made sure to give them a good tip and thank them profusely. After that, we were left alone in our new home.

“Okay, Wynter, how about you head upstairs and start unpacking at least the essentials before we go out to dinner,” Mom said, placing a hand on my shoulder.

I simply nodded in response as the fatigue started to set in along with the nausea from not having had a chance to eat yet today.

As I made my way up the stairs, I could feel a certain energy about the house. It felt warm and comforting, which was strange since I had never stepped foot on the property in my life. Nonetheless, I relished in the familiarity of it because who knew how long it would last and I definitely needed it. Being in a new and unknown environment was unsettling to me. I knew I needed to guard myself against any unwanted or negative energy. But since I didn’t know what energy I needed to protect myself from here, I essentially had to guard against everything and hope it worked.

So, I made my way down the hall to the last room on the second floor, where my stuff was. My mom grew up here so she knew the house like the back of her hand, and she thought this room would be best suited for me. It was bigger than my room back in Arizona, and had a few windows, but one in particular caught my eye. It was big, faced the sunset, and had a huge window seat. I automatically knew I would spend a lot of my time there.

The wallpaper was old as it was the original wallpaper from when the estate was built. I could imagine how this room looked back in 1673 when Amelia was born here. I could imagine the floral wallpaper, faded by time, being pure white with splashes of color littering the walls. A small smile adorned my face as I started to unpack.

I was able to get a good portion of my essentials unpacked, such as bedding, electronics, and my magical tools. The sooner I could set up my altar, the sooner I could cleanse the room and set up some wards. Although doing those rituals would have to wait till after dinner since I definitely didn’t have enough energy at the moment. Just as I was putting the finishing touches on my altar, I heard my mother call me downstairs so we could leave. I smiled as I practically ran downstairs, excited to finally be able to eat.

“Where are we going to go eat?” I asked my parents as I met them at the front door.

“Well, your mother was telling me about this little cafe in town her family used to go to, so we were thinking about seeing if it was still open.”

“Okay, sounds like a plan.”

I could tell that my mom was happy to be back in her hometown with all the nostalgia that came with it. But at the same time, I could tell that she was nervous. Something about being back was unsettling for her.

Nonetheless, when we pulled up to an old cafe with a big neon open sign still hanging in the window, I saw her smile grow so much it looked painful. I didn’t think it could get any bigger until we walked inside.

“Oh, gosh! Nothing has changed even after all these years!” she exclaimed.

Just as she was about to go on to tell us about every little detail she could remember, a blonde girl who couldn’t be much older than me walked up to us.

“Hi, welcome to Charlie’s Cafe. Are you here to dine in or carry out?” she said in an upbeat and cheery voice.

“Dine in for three, please,” my father responded with a polite smile.

“Okay, then, please follow me.”

She sat us down in a booth in the back corner and handed us our menus before leaving us in the care of our waiter. As we decided what we all wanted to order, I could feel eyes watching me. I glanced up and looked around only to find that the hostess and a few of the wait staff were watching me from around a corner that I assumed led into the kitchen. I think they thought they were being subtle, and maybe to normal people they were, but I was not normal. I looked at them for a moment to let them know I had seen them before turning my attention back to my menu.

“Wynter, have you decided what you want, dear?” my mother asked.

“I think I’ll go with a burger and fries with a root beer if that’s alright?” I asked, placing my menu on the table.

“Of course, dear.”

Just as they were about to try and track down our waiter, a different young girl walked up to our table with a smile that was obviously very forced.

“Hi everyone, sorry for the wait. My name is Emily and I’ll be your waitress. What can I get for you?”

We quickly placed our orders and made small talk while we waited. Well, it was mostly Mom and Dad complaining about how we should have had our drink orders taken when we sat down, but nonetheless, they seemed happy. It wasn’t long before we got both our food and drinks and enjoyed a nice family dinner together. Or at least it would have been if not for the entire waitstaff watching us like we had 2 heads.

“Thank you for eating at Charlie’s Café. We hope you come again,” one of the hostesses said as we were leaving.

We left, giving them a polite smile, and tried to ignore the looks we were receiving. Although I’m not sure my parents even noticed. They decided to head home straightaway, and we could explore the town some other time. The entire way home, my mother wouldn’t stop gushing about how happy she was to show us her hometown. Although I could sense her happiness, I couldn’t shake this feeling of negativity. We made it back and went to our respective rooms for the night.

As I sat in the window seat watching the sky fill with the colors of the sunset, I listened to the whispering of the house. The creaks and the groans that filled my ears urged me to listen to the past. Walking over to my altar, I got out a bandanna, needle, and thread.

“Around me, my circles cast.

Nothing evil can get past.

Surrounding me in protective light.

Here my magic shall take flight.”

I chanted, lighting my candles.

Taking my thread, I dipped it in my moon water and began sewing protective sigils into the bandanna while chanting:

“With this thread, these sigils I bind.

Here to protect me from harm I’d find.”

As soon as the last sigil was done, I closed my circle, placed the bandanna on my window seat, and got ready for bed. I was asleep before my head even touched the pillow. I wish I could say my first night was filled with pleasant dreams, however, that was not the case. I found myself in old Wichitan being dragged to a stake surrounded by angry villagers with torches.

“BURN THE WITCH!” screamed the crowd as I was being tied to the stake.

“Amelia Morgan, you stand here accused of witchcraft,” stated the priest standing before me. “How do you plead?”

Amelia? What did they mean, Amelia?

“Shouldn’t my accuser face me as I stand trial?” I asked in a voice that did not sound like my own.

A moment later, a young man made his way from the crowd to stand next to the priest. At the sight of him, I felt my heart break all over again. Nonetheless, I kept my face stoic as I chanted.

“My love stands here before me.

Once he kneeled on bended knee.

His betrayal of Morgan blood.

Shall curse his family for years to come.”

The realization of what I was doing came to everyone paying attention and they all rushed to try and stop me. Quickly, I found a nail in the post I was tied to and cut my hand just enough to bleed.

“Each generation if a Mikhale loves a Morgan, when the moon leaves the sky, until the curse is broken,

a Mikhale boy will die.”

As soon as I muttered the last line of the spell, I jolted awake in a cold sweat. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears and my breath came in short, fast spurts. I closed my eyes and tried to ground myself until I calmed down. I used this time to think about my dream. It all felt so real, but I also didn’t feel like myself. The villagers called me Amelia, which led me to believe that this was either Amelia’s way of sending me a message, or it was just some really strange dream. After I calmed down, I looked over at my window to see that the sun was starting to rise.

Quickly, before I forgot it, I grabbed my grimoire and wrote down everything about my dream that I could remember, which I admit wasn’t much. I didn’t know how long I sat there afterwards just staring out the window listening to the birds chirping, but eventually I heard my parents downstairs. I made the decision not to tell them about my dream. Even though my mom was a witch, I didn’t want to bother her about it if it turned out to be nothing. Eventually, I made my way downstairs to find my parents cooking breakfast with what little was unpacked.

“Good morning, dear,” my father said as I sat at the table.

“How did you sleep?” Mom asked, cracking an egg into the frying pan.

“Fine, how about you?”

She nodded in response, probably sensing that I wasn’t telling her everything, but decided not to push it. After that, we ate breakfast in comfortable silence before going back to unpacking.

“Wynter, your first day of school is in three days to give us time to settle in, okay? So, no lollygagging about, and make sure to get everything unpacked,” my dad said as I made my way back to my room.

“Okay,” I called back.

I spent the next few hours unpacking everything and making my room look the way I wanted it to. I asked my parents if they wanted me to unpack anything else, but they said no because my mom had a specific vision in mind for the rest of the house. Instead, they told me I could go explore the grounds, and find anything that we would need to fix. I agreed, wanting to find a place to do spell work and rituals anyway.

The grounds were beautiful, and for the most part, everything was intact. It was just overgrown. I didn’t realize just how big the property actually was. It felt so nice to be outside. I could connect to nature and the garden had all sorts of herbs and plants. I could feel all the years of magic that had been done here. I found a cute little bench to sit on and was enjoying the breeze until I felt a disturbance. My instincts were proven right when I heard something rustling to my right.

“Surround me in shifting light, So, I hide in plain sight,” I muttered.

Sun rays enveloped me allowing me to disappear for a short time. The last part of me that was visible disappeared just as a boy around my age appeared from the bushes. I held my breath as he got closer so that I wasn’t discovered. He had light brown hair and dark brown eyes, and from what I could tell, he was quite a bit taller than me. He was almost at the bench I was sitting on when my mother called out to me. He stopped in his tracks, clearly startled before taking off out of the garden. Once he was out of sight, I let out the breath I was holding, released the spell, and all but collapsed on the ground. Holding the spell for so long took more out of me than I thought it would. I had to take a moment or two before I could make my way back to the house. I made a mental note of the strange boy and to come back out later to see if he messed with anything on the property.

“There you are sweetie,” she said as I came up to the back door. “How was it?”

“Really nice, actually. It needs a good mow and some other lawn and garden care, but I honestly expected it to be worse,” I answered with a small smile.

We made our way inside as she asked why I seemed so tired all of a sudden. I told her I practiced a tough spell and that I would tell her more later.

That night, after I told my mom about the mysterious boy, she and I went around and put up a protection spell and wards to keep unwanted company off the property. Thankfully, we didn’t find anything out of place and when we made our way back inside, Dad was waiting for us with tea and snacks.

“I know that the property is big, so I thought you would need some fuel to get some energy back as you ground yourselves,” he said with a smile as he handed us the mugs.

We said thank you and mom gave him a kiss on the cheek as he left to go unpack his study. We drank our tea and ate our snacks and felt our energy slowly come back. Dad always made us tea after we did big spells. He may not be an actual witch, but in my opinion, he was just as much of a witch as I was. A thought suddenly occurred to me as I ate the last of my snack.

“Mom, do you think our ancestors' journals are hidden somewhere in the house?” I asked.

She paused, thinking for a moment. “I honestly couldn’t say. It wouldn’t surprise me though. There are a lot of nooks and crannies, and an occasional hidden room or two throughout the house, so maybe you can go try to find them and see what's in them.”

I shrugged in response. Soon after, I said goodnight to my parents before going back to my room. Well, that's what I planned to do. I had just made my way up the stairs when I saw someone down the hall. It couldn’t have been my parents as I just left them downstairs. The figure I saw wasn’t doing anything besides standing there watching me. It was at this time I wished I’d remembered to grab my bandanna from the window before Mom and I went to do the spell. I would just have to confront it and hope for the best. I slowly approached the figure and the closer I got, the clearer it became. I saw a girl a few years older than me with red hair in 1600s-era clothing, and I recognized her immediately.

“Amelia?” I asked.

She simply pointed at the wall. I came closer to see what she was pointing at, but by the time I got to where she was standing, she was gone. I looked at the wall she was pointing at and met eye to eye with an old portrait or a young red-headed girl with a plaque that said, ‘Amelia Morgan 1692.’ I stood there confused as I examined the painting further. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders in curly waves. She wore a beautiful pink dress and a choker made of what looked like a red ribbon with a dark red jewel in the middle of it. For some reason, I was drawn to the choker. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Suddenly, I heard a whisper of a voice in my ear saying:

“Follow me.”

I turned around just in time to see the same figure again, but at the base of the stairs going up to the third floor of the house. Okay, this was weird. I had no protection with me and some spirit that resembled my late ancestor was trying to get me to follow it to a part of the house I had yet to explore. What should I do? It didn’t feel menacing or evil, but should I trust it?

“Follow me,” it said again with more emphasis.

Well, I guess I was following it and I’d deal with the consequences later. I started walking over to her before I lost my confidence. I followed her up the stairs down a few hallways before we made it to a little room that I’m sure I would not have been able to find on my own, at least not this quickly. It was a quaint little room probably used for storage all those years ago, dust covered the shelves that occupied the edges of the room. Little empty bottles and jars still sat in spaces that they were probably put 100 years ago. Amelia went over to an empty wall and pointed, just as she did with the painting. I couldn’t help wondering what she was leading me to. What exactly she wanted me to find. The wall she was pointing to had nothing on it, no shelves, nothing.

“Okay, what do you want me to do?” I asked, looking at the wall but when I looked back up, she was gone. This time for good.

Well thanks for the instructions, Amelia, I thought. Now, what about this wall did she want me to figure out? I kneeled down by the wall to get a closer look. I noticed a pentacle engraved on the bottom panel—a star within a circle—to indicate the connection of the five elements: Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and Spirit. It was a magical symbol used for protection. Something magical went on with this wall. Standing up a thought occurred to me, could something be behind it? Tentatively, I raised my hand and started knocking on the wood looking for any hollow points.

Part of me was surprised when my hunch was right. I heard the hollow echo sound pretty much everywhere on this wall, but how was I going to get behind it? Mom would kill me if I damaged it and I honestly didn’t know if Amelia would leave me alone if I didn’t figure out what she wanted from me. I guess now was as good a time as any to work on my manifestation. I held my hand out toward the wall and started to envision it turning into a door. I imagined a doorknob appearing along with hinges and the lock mechanisms. When I opened my eyes to look, I was met with a wall-looking door.

Not exactly what I was hoping for, but it was better than nothing. Honestly as long as it worked that was good enough for me. Now the question was, did it open? Taking a calming breath, trying not to think about how there could be a rotting dead body on the other side of this, I reached out and carefully turned the knob until I heard a click. Then before I chickened out, I swung open the door as fast as I could. I looked inside and thankfully there was no dead body, instead I found a small chest. It was a beautiful dark brown wood with gorgeous gold details and had a pentacle carved into the lid. I don’t know why but I felt the undeniable urge to take it with me.

Carefully I lifted the box to inspect it further and noticed there were sigils all over the bottom of it. Many of them I recognized from Amelia’s journal but there were some I had never seen before. I took the box and slowly made my way back to my room, deciding It’d be better to check it out in there where I had wards up in case Amelia decided to show up again. If that was in fact Amelia. So, I carefully made my way back to my room and quickly shut the door, before making my way to the window seat. I examined the sigils on the box and tried to recall where I had seen some of them before. It took a moment or two for it to hit me, and I got up and grabbed Amelia’s journal; flipping through to a page filled with a bunch of sigils she had created. Most were normal everyday sigils for protection, and to keep it hidden. But others were a bit more unique and extreme, there was one that made it to where an unwanted person could not touch this box without getting burned.

This alone was enough to make me extremely weary of what could be in this box. However, why would Amelia lead me to the box if she didn’t want me to open it? It was pretty late, and I should probably sleep on the idea and wait till the morning. Maybe even talk to my mom about it. So, I put the little box in the top drawer of my bedside table and tried to drift off into sleep. Sleep didn’t come easy however, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. I looked around my room and out my windows but found nothing. I’m probably just nervous to fall asleep after the dream I had last night. I thought to myself for a moment and decided that must be it, and that I was being ridiculous.

Trying to shake off the anxiety I was feeling I climbed back into bed and waited for sleep to wash over me and hope I had a normal dream. It wasn’t long once I relaxed that sleep found me, and this time no dreams followed. It was a dreamless sleep the second night in the new house, an uneventful night. When I woke up the next day however, a whole new batch of weirdness began. I heard the birds outside first, then I smelled the food cooking in the kitchen, afterward I heard a rustling next to my head.

“Mom, I’ll be right down in a minute,” I mumbled flipping onto my back as I tried to wake up fully.

When I spoke up, the rustling stopped immediately. Confused, I slowly sat up and opened my eyes to see what was going on, only to be met with an empty room. Shrugging my shoulders, I turned to my bedside table to grab my phone, and to my surprise I found Amelia’s box sitting upon the table next to my phone.

“That’s weird,” I said to myself. “I could have sworn I put this in the drawer.”

Against my better judgement I picked it up, and suddenly I got a flash image of Amelia rushing to hide the box. I could hear voices echoing after her as she ran up the stairs, and her panicked breathing as she rounded the corner and rushed into the first room she deemed safe. Then just as sudden as it happened, it was over. I immediately dropped the box and all but ran downstairs to the kitchen where my parents were quietly making breakfast.

“Hey, honey, you’re just in time. The food just got done cooking,” my mom said without looking up from the pan.

“Mom,” I said breathlessly.

She must have heard the distress in my voice because she quickly made her way to my side. Wordlessly, she followed me up to my room. I could feel her worried and questioning gaze on my back the entire time. When we made it to my room, I let mom go in first while I followed closely behind. I watched as she took a quick glance around the room before her eyes landed on the small little box that still sat on top of my bed.

“Wynter, where did you get that?” she asked, making her way over to my bed.

“Amelia took me to it last night. She wants me to open it,” I explained. “I put it in my bedside table drawer last night, and when I woke up it was sitting next to my phone.”

“Hold on, sweetie. You said Amelia took you to this box?”

I nodded in response. “I think I saw her ghost. She took me to some old closet and showed me where the box was. I haven’t opened it. I was waiting till I talked to you.”

“That was probably a good decision. Tell me everything that happened.”

I told her everything from the weird dream I had the first night to the vision I got when we touched the box. ‘We’ve only been in this house for two days. Why is everything already so crazy?’ I thought to myself. I watched as my mom sat on my bed processing everything I just told her. It looked like she was just as confused as I was. I couldn’t help wondering why me? Why was Amelia showing herself to me? Why not Mom, she was a much more experienced witch than I was.

“Open the box,” Mom said suddenly.

“What?”

“If Amelia wants you to have this, then who are we to deny her? Wynter, this box has been missing since Amelia was captured.” She explained, “When our family came back our ancestors spent lifetimes trying to track down everything Amelia hid before they got to her, and besides her grimoires, this box was the only thing left to find.”

“But I didn’t find it.”

“No, Amelia gave it to you. Amelia chose you, so open the box. I’ll be right here with you.” she said, handing me the box with a comforting smile.

I shakily take it from her hands and stare at it for a moment or two before slowly lifting the lid. Inside was the choker Amelia had been wearing in her portrait. Red ribbon with a dark red jewel in the middle of it, only the ribbon had decayed over the years and wouldn’t be usable. Although the jewel remained the same gorgeous sparkling dark red as it has probably always been. I carefully placed the jewel in my hand and lifted it to the light. I was easily mesmerized by it. For some unknown reason holding this jewel brought me great comfort.

“The ribbon is no good, but I think I have a chain somewhere in my boxes. I’ll look for it and give it to you when I find it.” My mom said, startling me.

“You think I should wear it?” I asked.

“Maybe, if it feels right. From the stories my Grandpa told me, the only time Amelia took that off was before the townspeople came for her.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, nonetheless that’s a family heirloom and we don't want to lose it,” she said, placing a hand on my shoulder as she left.

Deciding it was best to leave it be for now, I put the jewel back inside the box and placed it back in the drawer. I followed mom back downstairs, so I could eat breakfast before I resumed unpacking my things. I needed to finish unpacking my stuff quickly, considering that my first day of school was in two days. Thankfully the upstairs bathroom had plenty of room for my stuff, so time flew by rather fast. After I was done with my bathroom, I went downstairs once more to see if either of my parents wanted my help. I had to search a little before I was able to find them, but when I did, I found them in what would be Mom’s study.

It was located more towards the front of the house with bookshelves all around the room. Dad was putting her desk together whilst mom was putting all her books on the walls.

“Hey mom, do you need some help?” I asked as I made my way into the room.

“Did you finish your room?” My dad asked in response.

I nodded and quickly grabbed some of the family grimoires from a nearby box. Grimoires have been passed down through our family for generations. The only grimoires we haven’t been able to find were Amelia’s. According to mom the family always believed that she hid them somewhere in the house, but no one had been able to find them. The current theory is that maybe she protected them with a spell. Who knows, maybe Amelia will show us where they’re hidden. The grimoires we have date back to Amelia’s little sister, Avery, telling us about the Morgan family’s life after they fled. They found refuge in a village two towns over.

It was there that they replenished their strength and lived for some years to come. Almost a decade after the trials ended, they made their way back and reclaimed the estate and the rest of the Morgan property. Afterwards they kept to themselves and avoided the rest of the townspeople. I know you’re probably wondering why they would risk coming back so soon. Well according to Avery it was because the coven didn’t want to risk losing connection to the magic that had soaked into their lands from all the past generations of Morgan witches. They decided that they would return and magically fortify themselves against the town. Over the years they let down their defenses and were able to find love with some brave souls. But neither the town, nor the coven forgot that fateful night.