Wiccan Act One: Occult

8 | Off the Deep End

CYRUS

VIII

It didn't matter whether or not he thought it was real. Cyrus still couldn't get the stench of hot garbage to stop haunting him.

He burst through the front door, exhaling deeply as rivers of sweat ran down his face and soaked his t-shirt. The events from today replayed in his head in abrupt flashes.

None of this is real.

All he could do was shove everything into one enormous box and label it coincidence. That was all it was and all it will be.

Who did he and Christian think they were, running around talking about witchcraft with a literal murderer in town? Not to mention their friend is missing. What they should have been doing was helping the police organize a search party or comforting Rowan instead of disappearing whenever he entered a room.

Invisible flies pestered him, their ringing irritating his ear drums. Swatting at them, their insistent noises wormed their way deeper into his head, strengthening the putrid rotting stench.

Hazel was all that mattered right now. Not this conspiracy theory. Not trying to figure out what that shadow was and definitely not trying to figure out why this GOD AWFUL STENCH CONTINUED TO FOLLOW HIM AROUND!

He stormed up the stairs, heading straight into the bathroom to fill the tub. It took seconds to strip naked and another to lock the door. He halted abruptly when he caught sight of the back of his shoulder, his bare skin mocking him, the hand print long gone. There should have been cuts and bruises there, making his back a mismatched jigsaw puzzle, yet his skin looked perfect. He hated that. He hated the reminder that Christian was right.

No matter how many things he labeled as coincidence, there will always be holes in the box.

The water was unforgiving, its clear colour washing away his worries. Cyrus' toes curled, sending shivers up his spine as more and more of his body became submerged. Tiny waves danced under his eye level, triggered by moving his index finger up and down, threatening to overflow.

All he wanted was for everything to stop, if only for a moment, to allow himself to catch up. Things continued to happen one after the other; voices chasing after him with screams, flooding his head with noise, playing like the opening scenes of a movie. Hazel, Rowan, Christian, even the mean librarian lady, he wished for all of them to disappear. For his mind to cease to function.

Cyrus went deeper and deeper, letting the tingles travel up his skin. First, he couldn't breathe, then lost his sight and finally, when the last strands of his hair were floating, silence enveloped him. He relaxed and stretched, allowing the water to have its way with him for as long as possible, forgetting to come up for air.

His arms reached out, extending fully with no restrictions from the tub walls, swooshing in empty space. The surprise shot his eyes wide open to see dark murky water in every direction, vaguely illuminated by a thin light above.

Either the bathtub got huge or he got tiny. Did Aunt Rose find a shrink ray and not tell him about it?

He floated there completely frozen, attempting to wipe his eyes or wake up before he drowned in his sleep. A swift slimy shape brushed against the bottom of his foot, sending him into panic mode. Using every bit of strength he had, he punched and kicked upwards, fighting the fatigue to make it anywhere before his lungs started letting water in.

Breaking through just in time, he gasped, coughing up an unhealthy amount of bath water. The silence remained, but something was different. For starters, he was skinny dipping right under the night sky, with nothing but the moon and some icy gusts to keep him company. All he could make out was a bridge in the distance, and trees surrounding him in every which direction.

"Are you serious!" He screamed, splashing water around.

...

Thank God his light was on.

The door opened to a sheepish-looking Christian, his eyes puffy from sleep.

Cyrus watched as emotions flashed across Christian's face in an instant. He could only imagine what Christian was thinking seeing his best friend standing outside his basement door dripping wet with nothing but a dust rat eaten jacket wrapped around his waist.

"Cyrus, what are you doing here?" he finally let out, pulling Cyrus inside and shutting the door. "It's freezing outside."

"Y-y-you have n-no idea." He retorted, pulling up the oversized piece of fabric wrapped around his waist.

Welcome to my first Wiccan double feature. I have been thinking about future scenes and books for these characters all day so expect big things in the future. This universe is going to be here for a while.

What do you do when you're stressed out?