The Witch

Later that week, just off the coast of San Francisco Bay, Morrigan sat on her bed with her laptop browsing Tumblr. She was supposed to be in school but she ditched early. She didn't really need to go because she was not only brilliant, but she could curse the teachers into believing she had perfect attendance. She went when she was bored, and to socialize with kids her own age. Middle school had been much more interesting than elementary school ever was. She couldn't wait to see what high school would be like if she decided to go.

Looking for new pictures to use on her website, something dark and mysterious, but not too over the top, she scrolled through endless images in her search results. If she could leave people guessing; who was this witch? What could she do? Was she for real? Then she'd be satisfied. She wanted her website to have the same feeling as her room, which was adorned in pagan symbols, from posters and trinkets to hanging jewelry and wall ornaments. Some were old ancient artifacts she weaseled from shop owners, others were passed down thru many generations. Surrounded by rich red walls with a deep purple trim and black bedding, patterned with silver stars and moons, it all screamed 'witchcraft', and she loved every inch of it.

Deciding to share some of her occult knowledge with the world had been a big step, even if she kept her online identity somewhat anonymous. She tooted she was the most powerful witch in North America, which wasn't a lie. However, she did know of one or two other American witches with powerful ancestry like herself who could give her a run for her money.

Still, she didn't need anyone hounding her at school about her powers, at least any more than they already did. Making a website was her best option when it came to sharing information, even though it would probably get flagged by whatever government agency was monitoring the internet for people with her skill set. She was more worried about her neighbors and teachers stumbling upon it. If they figured out she was a witch, it could affect some of the curses she already had in place.

In the past, she had let a few friends in on her magics. It always ended the same; they would either bug out and scatter or be totally cool with it and try to convince her to cast spells for them. She'd comply for a little while, a small love spell, a séance or two, though cursing exes seemed to be the most popular. If any of them knew her true capabilities they wouldn't be so quick to ask her to use her magic. Yet eventually she would do or say something to make them bug out and scatter too. Sometimes on purpose. Though she welcomed friendships, she couldn't stand the constant nagging for magical favors. So, since moving to San Fran, she took many precautions to make sure no one knew what she really was, even the people she left behind.

Now the internet became a safe haven for her. On Tumblr, her posts were all about paganism, witchcraft and other paranormal phenomena, but there was no way anyone could connect her to it in real life. She never used her real name, age, or place of birth when she registered for sites. She never put up any pictures of herself online, or her family, or her school, nothing that could be traced back to her. She had been very careful not to leave the slightest hint of her lineage.

As she browsed, she came across a profile she remembered following a few months back, a dark artist of sorts and she was pretty sure he lived in her city because unlike her, he left clues. First off, she knew it was a guy because sometimes when he took pictures of his work, he would hold it in his hand. Total guy hands. She knew he lived in her city because in a few shots, she saw the Golden Gate Bridge glowing in the distance from his window. She would never be so careless, but his art intrigued her.

His screen name, iseedeadpeople, and his artwork were very dark. He sketched zombies for the most part, but he never drew the same character twice. His imagination was out there, every piece he posted was unique. She thought about messaging him several times, just to let him know how much she liked his work, but he had a big following and she really didn't want to get too close to anyone just to be used again. She was a bit jealous, he had double the amount of followers she had, but she was still a newbie. Give her time and she would kick his Tumblr butt.

She clicked on a heart and liked his latest sketch, it was a younger zombie with half a face and a mangled car in the background. It was really detailed, even in pencil, the blood looked so real. She wanted to know why this guy was so obsessed with the dead, almost as much as she was.

She was obsessed with death because she was a direct descendant of Morgan Le Fay, the evil enchantress from the days of King Arthur and his knights of the roundtable who had possessed an incredible amount of power. Gifted with immortality, she had lived for centuries, mothering many illegitimate children, until she took her own life.

One day, when Morrigan was a tween and new to the internet, she cast a mind-bending spell she found online, full of necromantic power to connect her ancestors, looking to learn more about them. Well, she got what she asked for, and more. All the memories of the Le Fay witches became embedded into her subconscious. Not only did she learn ever spell or curse they ever performed, she now remembered all the torment the Le Fay witches brought into the world over several ages. It haunted her dreams. The scheming, the mischief, the horror surrounding her heritage was enough to throw her into a panic. The impact of that knowledge had affected Morrigan immensely. It was hard to say if it would be for the better or the worse. Would she kill people one day, as they had? She didn't think she wanted to, but she knew she loved her power.

Now Morrigan loathed being named after Morgan Le Fay. Her mother was always going on and on about her even though they had never met. But Morrigan was different than her mother, and now more powerful than any Le Fay witch there ever was. And she didn't really care about King Arthur or what was done to him. She tried her best to forget. If it were up to her, she'd start fresh; change her name from Le Fay to Laveau or Leek. Le Fay was so Le Dull. And the killing? How lame.

One day, she thought, she'd do something way cooler than Morgan Le Fay ever did. Heck, she'd even try to live longer.

That's when her laptop beeped at her, letting her know she had a message. When she clicked on her inbox her stomach lurched in excitement. It was from the dark artist! The guy who sees dead people! How unreal was that? The subject line said: hey. She clicked it to open the message and it read:

Hi. Sorry to bug you. This is going to sound strange but, are you like into magic and stuff? If you are, I need help with something, I can fill you in if you have Skype or glide? I swear I'm not crazy or anything so if you think you can help me, add me. jonaslutey2000@gmail.com - Thanks.

Morrigan's mouse hovered over the reply button. She was a bit freaked out which was rare for her. I mean yeah, she had just liked one of his pictures on Tumblr, no real coincidence there, but did he know she'd been thinking about messaging him for weeks? Did he know she knew he lived in her city? He couldn't, right? She decided not to reply. Instead, she opened her Skype account and clicked on the add button. She entered his email address.

Jonas, hmm, cute name.

He popped up in her contacts, a little green circle sat next to his name, he was online. Her heart raced a little bit, she clicked on 'call'.

It rang.