I awoke in the middle of the night at the witching hour, the glistening moon through my window. The Goddess didn't show up until well after midnight on my side of the house and she had begun to dip towards the top of the wall. I wasn't sleepy at all. Wide awake but peaceful. Nothing to show for why I was conscious, unless it was the moonlight. Entirely feasible, given the illumination in my room.
I relaxed myself back down into sleep mode, keeping out the draughts under the covers. As I stared up at the ceiling, I heard a rustle. And another. The tiniest of noises, almost less than a mouse might make. Paper on paper, or plastic bag on paper. I listened hard, ready to locate the sound when it came.
Nothing. No hint of any creature moving about in the room.
I held my breath till my heart pounded too loudly to hear anything external to my head. I softly expelled the air, ears still straining, but the old house was silent and strong around me. It had seen many things and there was nothing to see right now.
The moonlight fell on my face as I turned over and settled under my duvet again. Just as I was dropping off, the rustle came again. It reminded me of a friend's pet tarantula I once looked after. She had liked the waste paper bin.
I grounded and felt outwards, searching for some kind of presence in the room. A tarantula would be a real surprise but there might be a spider of some kind. My spider sense was pretty good, usually.
Something lurked. Not the spiky impression of a spider, but large. Gigantic, even. It had a deep vibrational hum, not a sound—a vibration.
Everything—real world and ether—has its own hum. I don't know why, or how it works, just that it does. Something to do with beings—whether living or dead—vibrating at different frequencies. This one felt so large. As if it surrounded the whole room, ceiling and walls. A presence of massive proportions. Heavy, but not exactly oppressive. I couldn't pinpoint more than its deep-pitched metaphysical hum.
***
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A Bagful of Dragon - Sample
RandomInayat isn't a witch. She's a not-quite-ordinary twenty-something, screwing up her life one failed date at a time. But when she dumps the wrong magician, Inayat finds herself in a bubbling cauldron of paranoid fear.
