Witch Rising

Silence.

It thickened the night like a warm blanket offering a false sense of security to the sleeping Provincial State, broken only by the soft cries of the gentle wind blowing in from the Smoky Mountains above us.

Whispering.

Warning.

It too felt like a hint of strangeness hung in the air. The warning that had been growing closer and closer each night I completed a safety run without any sign of trouble. Trouble is coming. It still whispered, caressing the back of my neck. Stay alert.

“It’s just nerves, Khloe.” I grabbed the handle of my M-166 issued rifle and tugged it closer to my shoulder. The cold metal of the gun and the green glow of the 166 bullets inside brought a little comfort at least. Despite the lie I was telling myself. Since the Witch Wars almost fifty years ago, things had changed drastically. Safety was now found indoors, but lately even that didn’t feel safe. It only felt like a bigger war was coming, but I couldn’t explain why. We hadn’t had a Witch attack in almost a full year now. It was a new victory for the Inquisition Hunters.

I stepped off the curve at 5th Avenue North, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding in. One more block and then I could go home. If I was lucky enough, I’d make it home before sun up.

The streets were empty; no one stayed out past sun down, curfew or not. Even trained Hunters often feared the night shift. I was always the crazy chick who volunteered, who felt safest at night patrolling the streets in silence. Until recently. I didn’t remember which night that the warning bells sounded in my head, but for weeks now, something felt off. As if something had been warning me, screaming at me to go back to safety. Recently, it became so bad I began patrolling even on my nights off. Fear would not keep me from the streets.

Even the soft hum of the Inquisition Drones patrolling the night time skies didn’t offer any comfort. If anything, the hum of machinery against the night made it worse. A reminder that not even nighttime was sacred to those who wished to cause damage.

“One more block.” I spoke to the darkness. Of course, there was no answer. I mapped out the journey in my head. 5th avenue onto Union Street, then double back onto 4th Avenue North, and back onto Deaderick Street, and back towards home. If I was lucky, I would hit the sack by sun up.

I passed aging signs and businesses. Provincial State 01 was nearly 300 years old. We’d retained the names of the streets and whatever businesses were left standing when the war started, but city and state names changed, and no one was allowed to discuss the past. We didn’t know the past of the town we lived in, only that it was once a place of great music and art. One of the last remaining relics from the past was an old bar called the Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge a ways over from here. On Fifth Avenue, where I was passing now, an old building now run down and aged once displayed musical instruments and musical history, but most of that had been raided during the Witch Wars before I was even born. Now most everyone avoided these places like the plague, afraid of attacks or disease. These were the places where Witches hid and worked their magic now. The town was littered with these places, though little was known about them, and most had been boarded up.

I passed the music building and make my way down to Union. That’s when I heard them. Footsteps echoing mine. I paused, resisting the urge to turn around and listen.

Nothing but the wind.

I stepped forward again, slowly and more aware this time. I could hear them clearly, and then they stopped matching my pace, instead growing faster, gaining on me quickly.

And here, in the dead center of the street, there was nowhere to hide. I lifted my rifle and aimed, cocking the gun and preparing to fire. The air around me tightened. The sound of the footsteps grew louder until they were echoing off the brick city walls.

The figure appeared, silhouetted in the shadows until it stepped into a beam of moonlight bright enough to I made out their face. One person, seemingly unaware of my presence as they eased their way down the street. I lined up the rifle, preparing to call out a command. That was, until I realized an M-166 was pointing back at me in the scope of my rifle. From a face that was all too familiar.

In the scope of my rifle, I could see the creature in front of me. He was tall man with thick brown hair. He stood with his shoulders slightly hunched. A long scar ran across his cheek.

Ah hell.

I knew that scar.

I knew that face.

“Wes?”

“Khloe.” He didn’t sound as surprised to see me.

“You aren’t on staff tonight.”

“Neither are you.” I lowered my riffle.

“So you’re hunting without permission from your Dad?” He gave me a look that said he didn’t believe it. Whatever bothered me about the night was no longer a worry. Wes Evergreen was now my focus but not like before. Not like when we were best friends gabbing over old TV shows and arguing which one was better. Not the one who shared cinnamon buns on Sunday mornings before the Hunters Circle. The Wes I grew up being next door neighbors with was no longer my best friend or neighbor. Now, I didn’t know what he was, and that hurt the most.

“I caught a tip, and I followed it. What’s your excuse?” I answered, waving my hand at him as if I didn’t care.

“Alone? Khloe, do you know how dangerous that is? You could’ve been hurt.” Concern etched his strong cheekbones and filled his eyes.

“I wasn’t. When are you going to realize that I can take care of myself? There’s a reason your father let me on this team.” I turned and started walked again, unphased.

“I’m beginning to question his reasoning.”

I stopped, stunned by his words. “Seriously? We’ve been training together for years. You don’t think I can do this job?”

“I think you’re too wild for this job. You act like you think you’re invincible. Someday, that’s going to get you killed,” he replied, shaking his head. His green eyes stare back at me with some sort of determination. For what? To see me fail? I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t read his face like I could a year ago.

“I have kicked your ass once, Wes. I can still kick your ass now.” I grabbed him and shoved him back against a brick wall. Cement and brick crumbled under our weight and showing their age.

“Khloe, stop it!” he yelled. Actually yelled into the night. As if he’d forgotten everything we’d learn in training. If anything, now Hunter and Witch alike would be able to find us easily, and it was all his fault, but I didn’t back down from the argument.

“Afraid of a challenge, Wessy? Forget how I used to beat the kids up in school to make them leave you alone?” I pressed my knee into stomach, keeping my voice at a whisper. “Remember when you had my back, no matter what?” I edged my knee a little harder. This conversation had been a long time coming. Ever since I decided to join the Inquisition as a Hunter. The first female hunter. No one liked that idea, especially Wes.

Wes growled. His arms wrapped around my waist, and wind whipped around me. Suddenly, I was the one pinned against the wall. His touch made me cringe, and I wanted to pull away, but I didn’t. I was prepared to fight more if he wanted. And I hoped he did. At least part of me did. Maybe it would let off some of the worry I’d been building up. Maybe I’d be able to relax for a minute and figure things out. He didn’t press back this time. He just held me down.

“I’m not going to fight you.” He looked more annoyed then pissed.

“Because Daddy didn’t tell you to?” I laughed at him. He opened his mouth to respond, but then stopped, eyes turning to the sky.

“Do you hear that?” he asked, releasing his hold on me. I started to grab him again, but I too realized something wasn't right, and I remembered why I’d begun the night hunt.

I stopped, listening as well. I followed his gaze to the sky. A sense of worry set in.

Complete silence. No wind. No mechanical whir. Everything seemed to freeze around us. The sense of war and worry washed back over me once again, and I knew exactly what Wes was talking about. Though the question wanted to stick in my throat as I asked, I spoke it out loud.

“Where is the Drone?”

As soon as the words came out, we ran.

“Which way did they go?” Wes stopped at the corner, looking both ways. I strained to listen for any sound of the Drone that guarded this part of the Provincial and the team of Inquisition Officers working with it.

I couldn’t.

My heart pounded heavily with adrenaline, and the sound rushed into my ears. I wasn’t good at this part; Abbey was so much better. Though my eldest sister refused to acknowledge her powers even existed, she was better at most things and part of me wished she were here now.

I felt the small tremor of wind. That’s how it always began. The wind lifted my spirit off the ground, carrying me up. For a moment in time, I separated from my body. I hovered off the ground of 5th Avenue North, just above my own head before the gust of magical wind swept my spirit down the street, around the corner, and on to Union Street. I cut onto 4th Avenue North and spiraled onto Church St. I stopped just below the still lit neon sign that read Printer’s Alley. The wind died down and fluttered like a gentle breeze around me.

Now, I could see the Drone. It was smashed into the ground, smoke rising from its engine. Five Inquisition Officers stood guard around it. I recognized several faces including Jonathon Baulder, my partner. They were fighting a trio of demons and around the corner, down the street, I could see at least ten more coming. The last thing I saw was an officer getting thrown against a wall before my spirit snapped back into my body.

There was little time to recover from the shock that always followed a spirit-trip. I grabbed Wes’s arm and tugged him in the direction of Printer’s Alley. “This way!””

The run wasn’t that far, and it didn’t take long with empty streets. Soon, we were on Church Street, and we heard the sounds of the battle, and I saw the smoke rising from the Drone.

“How the hell did you know that?” Wes gave me an uncertain, distrusting look that I didn’t have time to be offended by.

“Saw the smoke.”

Another lie.

“They’re going to get killed!”

“Thanks for the news flash. So are we if we don’t do something.”

“So, how about we do something?” For once, Wes and I agreed on something. We hurried toward the officers and the witches descending quickly down the alley.

“Any brilliant ideas?” Wes asked.

“Yo, Buttface!”

Wes looked at me with something between amusement and disbelief on his face.

“Really, Khloe? Buttface?” But it worked. A witch turned its attention on me. I stared at it, wide-eyed. The thing was the ugliest creature I’d ever seen. It looked like it used to be human. A woman, I thought. It had long, brown hair that clung to its dirtied face. Its skin was scaled and roughed like stretched leather. Its veins glowed bright blue in the moonlight. It wore nothing but a small rag to cover its deformed chest and waist. I felt pity for it until the creature charged and let out the most hideous, ear-splitting screech I’d ever heard. Any sympathy I had for the creature was lost.

“Khloe!” Baulder shouted, charging forward. In his hand, something glinted silver. A sword? It was a long silver blade that shone in the moonlight as he dragged it clear across the creature’s neck, severing it. The head rolled to the ground, and before the body fell, it turned to ashes.

“Hey, partner.” Baulder gave me a toothy grin.

“Just in time for the show.” He tossed me the silver blade.

“You know me. Always on cue,” I teased, catching the blade single handedly.

“The Robin to my Batman.” He laughed and gave me a playful wink.

“Always.” I raised the sword in salute.

“See you when it’s over.”

“Countin’ on it.” I grinned back and turned my attention to the fight. Wes had three witches gathered around him. They were erratic. Starved. They would be easy to get rid of. I charged the nearest one, slamming the sword clear through its vertebrae, listening to the sickening crunch of the creature’s neck before it turned to dust. The body count dropped in seconds.

The fight that started out as a death warrant ended in a matter of minutes with the witches losing. Silence followed the aftermath of the last kill. The group of officers dissipated, and Maxx Evergreen, Wes’s father and head of the Inquisition Unit, hurried through the crowd.

“What the hell were you kids thinking?”

Wes and I exchanged glances. “We thought we were helping,” Wes said, staring up at his father defiantly.

“Helping? You kids could’ve gotten us all killed.” Maxx was furious. Oops.

“We didn’t; in fact, we saved your team.” I crossed my arms.

“They’d all be dead if we hadn’t shown up,” Wes agreed. I couldn’t help but smile. For once, this felt like old times. This was the Wes Evergreen that I know.

“You broke every rule in the book tonight—” Maxx was saying, but I was barely listening. I noticed movement behind Maxx. Several officers were gathering around something. Someone. A body. I pushed past Maxx and through the small crowd of uniforms and found my partner, Baulder, lying on the ground.

“What happened?” I fell to his side, surveying the damage.

“Looks like a couple of graze wounds. Nothing major, he’ll live. The Sector’s sending a medevac,” a red headed officer said. I knew his face, though his name was forgotten. Right now, my only concern was my partner.

“Don’t worry about me, baby girl. I’m fine. Ain’t no witch going to take me down!” He gave me his toothy grin.

“’Course not. I’ll see you at the hospital, big guy.” I laughed.

“Nah, there’s going to be a ton of paperwork to get done. You should get a head start on that.”

“Because you care so much about paperwork. You just don’t want to have to do any.” I rolled my eyes. He laughed.

“You got it.” He winked.

“See you later.” I shook my head, standing up. He gave me a thumbs up. As I stepped back, the medevac arrived, and he was swarmed by Sector Police and emergency workers. Wes stood beside me, and we watched in silence as they loaded Baulder up and drove off.

“He’ll be fine,” Wes said. He laid a hand on my shoulder. Something I assumed was supposed to be comforting, but it was more awkward than anything. Suddenly, the distance was back between us again.

“I know.”

“Let’s get you two home,” Maxx said, stepping up beside us. He looked exhausted. His green eyes were aged beyond his forty-five years, and the dark circles under them made him look like some kind of ancient warrior.

“Are we in trouble?” Wes asked. Maxx looked at him for a moment, same green eyes taking us in.

“Probably would’ve been a lot worse if you two hadn’t shown up.” He shook his head. I almost felt bad for him. Almost. He was the one killing innocent witches. He made it impossible for us to do our jobs. So I didn’t feel too much sympathy.

Quietly, Wes and I started to climb into the back of one of the Inquisition Vans pulled to the side of the road. I set the sword I was still carrying into the back first and made my way to crawl in after. The step was high, though, so I jumped. Taking the small leap, my head spun. I stumbled.

Everything spun and faded before clearing again. Wes and Maxx held me up.

“Khloe! Are you okay?” Wes’s gripped me tight enough to bruise.

“Fine, fine. Just tired,” I replied, pulling from his grasp. I started to climb into the van again. Just like before, my vision blurred, and my head spun. The alley vanished, and I swear I saw forest instead of brick walls, but then that too vanished, and I was overtaken by darkness instead.

The last thing I heard before I fell into unconsciousness was the sound of an owl hooting in the distance and a wolf’s howl.