The Hag's Blood Incident

Chapter 6

     When I awoke, the first thing I noticed was I couldn't move. Someone had mummified me in a blanket, in a room that smelled strongly of roses and sandalwood, with that unmistakable scent of old person as an undertone. I lifted my head as far as I could and took note that I was cocooned in a black fleece blanket decorated with a vibrant pink rose pattern, I was lying in a wrought iron four poster bed, under a copper colored sheet that was pulled as tightly as possible over my body, with a heavy quilt embroidered with a Pennsylvania Dutch pattern on top of that. Whoever was responsible for my condition had effectively immobilized me.

     There were no pillows on the bed, instead there were silver pendants hanging from each of the four bedposts. I recognized Ari's exquisite detail work immediately. One was a dove, one a dog, one was a plane, and the last was shaped like a tongue. Presumably, each was an aspect of my character that she thought represented me. Maybe I could guess them? Dove equals peace, duh. Dog, loyalty? The plane was for travel. The tongue was for conversation? I sincerely hoped so, rather than the literal interpretation of a silver tongue. All four of them were drawn taught on leather ties pulling toward each other toward the center of the bed in an 'x' shape.

     I rocked back and forth in my cushiony prison. I was able to budge slightly, but when I did the metal frame squeaked and a wind chime that was hung on the back of the footboard began to ring. I tried to call out, but my voice wasn't working. That was probably why they had the bell there. I stopped struggling and the wind chime silenced itself.

     Since I had time, I tried to examine my surrounding more thoroughly to see if I could figure out where I was. The room was homey enough, decorated in a pink pastel color with a cherry wood vanity and chest of drawers as the accompanying furniture. There was a beam of sunlight streaming through the peach curtains framing the bedroom window. Immobilized as I was, I could especially appreciate the wallpaper border that ran along the ceiling depicting a creeping vine with pink roses interdispersed every three inches or so.

      Overall, not a decorating style I would have chosen, but my chances of being eaten by a millionaire werewolf, his pack, and his pet sorcerer, or even mauled by an army of goblinoid children were slimmer in an environment like this than any of my previous locales, so I counted my blessings being wherever I was.

     However, there was only so long that I could sit still. In frustration, I struggled against my bindings and tried call out again with same results. Ringing chimes and all I was able to do was force the breath through my throat. No sound was coming out of me. Great, I was trapped. Ari had done her work well.

     After a few minutes, the bedroom door opened smoothly and a small African American woman entered the room carrying a steaming bowl and a spoon. She was dressed in a plain pullover dress with pick roses on it, so I marked her as the owner of the house. She walked to the head of the head of the bed with mincing steps. "Good morning." She said in a clear voice. "I heard you were awake. Ms. Lopez did a good job of fixing you up last night. I'm glad Timothy was able to bring you here to stay with me."

     She put the bowl on the chest of drawers and bent down, disappearing from my view. I heard the click of a button being depressed and the head of the bed smoothly started moving upward, placing me into a reclined position rather than a horizontal one. The old lady sat on the edge of bed and pulled the bowl into her lap. She took out a spoonful of the mixture and held it out for me to eat. "Have to get some food into you. Heard you haven't eaten since last night."

      She was right, I was hungry. My stomach growled in its emptiness at the smell coming from the bowl. I opened my mouth and she starting spooning its contents into me.

     I closed my mouth around the metal spoon. The contents were hot, so that was nice, not as thrilling as the warmth of the hot dog had been last night when I was bewitched, but still pleasant. It was thick and chewy, with a thin broth and long slimy noodlish vegetables. Beans maybe? Ugh, the flavor was revolting. I pulled a disgusted face because of both the flavor and the texture, and opened my mouth to let it fall out.