Whispers at Witching Hour

Chapter 44

Musical inspiration: Falling Apart – Michael Schulte

Zelda rubbed the back of her hand against her forehead, taking a drag on her cigarette and sighing.

"I think I'm going to call it a night, if you don't mind sister", she announced to Hilda.

They were still standing in the door, watching what remained of the coven settle, wondering about how they were going to manage this major task.

Hilda nodded and sent her sister a sweet smile, not intending to let her go without having squeezed her hand one more time. They would figure it all out, they could do it. Together, as sisters. The younger Spellman made sure to only allow positive thoughts from now on.

Zelda headed to her bedroom, exhausted. Though she did not actually feel like sleeping; was too wound up. No, she just wanted to be alone and fetch a drink from the secret stash in the back of her wardrobe.

She pushed her dresses aside with one hand, the other holding her lit cigarette. Reaching in the wardrobe, she almost lost her balance when she had to squat to get the bottle, but caught herself. Here we go, she thought, pulling out a bottle of her favourite whiskey. Hilda did not appreciate her drinking whiskey as she tended to overdo it and ended up rather wasted most of the time; that was why she hid it in the closet.

But desperate times call for desperate measures. The room lay in darkness since Zelda did not bother turning the light on for the dark matched her mood. Hence, she only became aware of something spread on her bed when she sat down on it. Upon noticing, she stopped herself from sinking into the mattress and jumped to her feet leaving the bottle on the bed.

Her hand reached out to fumble for whatever it was, assuming Hilda had done the laundry and left a piece of clothing there. And it actually turned out to be a piece of clothing – but none of hers.

She recognised the fabric between her fingers immediately, dropping her cigarette at the sensation. The smoke hit the ground, emitting a barely audible hiss that went unnoticed by Zelda whose hand lingered motionless on the material, frozen in time.

See you at witching hour, my love. That was what Lilith had told her, almost like a promise. As a matter of fact, it was almost witching hour. Staring at the black leather coat she used to love oh so much on the brunette, she wondered if that was what she had meant.

No, that did not make sense. See you, but she was not here. Zelda had told her herself to literally go to hell, so who was she to hope the demoness would return?

Zelda took a deep breath through her nose before she could not hold it in any longer. She threw the coat into a corner carelessly and plunged to get the bottle from her bed. With furiously shaking hands, she conjured a glass while biting her lips and started to pour herself a drink. Midway, she stopped and looked at the bottle.

"Who am I kidding?", she murmured into the room and brought the bottle to her mouth, downing a third of the burning liquid at once.

"Much better", she pointed out once she was done and finally picked up the cigarette that had scorched the carpet by now before sitting down on the bed.

Zelda looked around the room, into the pitch-black shadows, out of the window; she kicked her heels off and let her legs dangle, taking a sip from the bottle every now and then. Here I am, just where I started.

The redhead got up again and walked over to her vanity to remove her make up and get ready for bed. Her gaze wandered to the black coat on the ground, not having the heart to let go. She picked it up and pressed it on her body, feeling it everywhere: on her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach, her hips, her thighs. Everywhere Lilith had been. Snuggling clothes was a thing of hers. She rarely allowed people to comfort and touch her, so she had developed this habit.

The leather was cool against her skin, causing goosebumps all over it and she let herself sink into the feeling just like the night on the bench after the picnic. Her head had rested on Lilith's chest, the leather of her coat sticking to her cheek after a while. And then, when the demoness had showed up in the mortuary with nothing underneath, trying to seduce her. The corners of Zelda's mouth quirked up briefly.

"It wasn't meant to be... Or maybe I just didn't deserve it...", she whispered into the air.

Considering the – as she now knew – prophecy, the relationship would have gone to waste anyway, so perhaps it was for the better. Not to forget Lilith chose hell over her; what kind of foundation for a relationship would that have been?

Zelda headed for the drawer she kept Leticia's things in, folded the coat with care, put it in and brushed over it to smooth it. Then, she lifted her hand to her hair to get the hair clip Lilith had sneaked into her baggage. Had Lilith seen her wearing it earlier?

She removed it and placed it neatly on top of the coat. When she was just about to close the drawer, her attention was caught by a certain item she kept in the same drawer. Temptation rose in her abdomen for she knew it would put her at ease. And who cared anyway now that Lilith was gone?

She squeezed her eyes shut and closed the drawer with force to return to her vanity. Zelda quickly changed into her golden silk nightgown that left her shoulders and back mostly bare. She came closer to the mirror, her robe hanging loosely in the crook of her arms, and she turned slightly. Just enough to look at the scars on her back; the long, elevated lines she carried and had never cared to look at until now.

It was time to put it behind her, she decided. Time to rebuild herself. Rebuild Zelda Spellman as High Priestess and Directrix of the coven.

She removed her make up slowly, first her eyes, then the rest of her face but something made her stop. Taking a new tissue, she picked at something she saw on her skin. The line, the crack, across her face. It amazed her how much it resembled the crack in the wall at the Vatican Necropolis. She dabbed on the edges and wondered how long it would take to heal and why nobody had mentioned it to her. But she supposed her make up and glamour charm skills were as good as to fool them all.

Zelda stared at herself in the mirror, at the crack, as her eyelids started to flutter. She could feel it coming. It had happened a few times since... Mostly at night, sometimes even throughout the day. But nobody knew. Her breathing became rapid, her chest went all tight, fear took over.