The Seed || A Madam Spellman Story

The Last Supper

"Whither I go, ye cannot come; so now I say unto you, that ye love one another; even as I have loved you, that ye also love one another."

-John 13: 33-34

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(tw// food)

Nerves were high the day that Zelda decided the ritual should be completed.

The mortuary was full, even Avnas had come and was currently entertaining Sabrina and Nicholas somewhere in the corner of the living room. Hilda was roaming around nervously, and Prudence and Ambrose were attending to the twins who seemed unaware of what was happening.

And Zelda was sat on the couch awaiting her summons, rolling the faint sparks between her fingers before they would be stripped away from her that afternoon. Though the thought of losing the only thing she'd ever known was horrifying, she had to admit that there was a peace that this would bring her. This was the last step she had to take for a more secure world, and she wouldn't back out at the end for a simple thing as fear. There were worst things to be afraid of than death- and Zelda had experienced many.

"Are you ready?"

"No last-minute convincing?"

"Would it work?" Then there was Lilith, who's hands shook slightly when they reached out to her, who was dressed in muted blue- a beautiful color that brought out her eyes, but otherwise made her seem normal. As if she was not the queen of Hell and there was no prophecy and they were a normal, eclectic family waiting for dinner on a Wednesday night.

"We should get started," Zelda answered calmly, and then followed the demoness to the embalming room where everything would take place.

"It's colder down here than I remember," Lilith began on their way down the steps. "Though it's always colder on earth to me compared to Hell." They passed the tables, one supporting a giant mandrake root that Zelda's eyes passed over quickly.

"We do store dead bodies down here."

"I'll try not to think too hard about that," The other woman replied dryly.

Comfortably sat on one of the examination tables, Zelda looked towards the shelves of embaling liquid and tools that lined the walls-disorganized in a way only Ambrose could navigate. Lilith stayed standing a few inches away in front of the table, looking to see what Zelda would say.

"Can you believe how old I'll look in a few years?" She thought about it often, though it began to phase her less and less as the days passed. She knew it was only a matter of time- two-hundred years perhaps, instead of twenty-but still. Death happens even to a witch, and for a witch, Zelda was old.

"I can't say I've given it much thought," Lilith began, moving closer, "but if it bothers you, I'm not above possessing an old woman myself?" Zelda almost laughed at the sincerity.

"Please do not murder an innocent elder."

"I didn't say I'd pick an innocent one, there's plenty of evil elders to choose from." Lilith finally took her seat beside her on the table, intertwining her left hand in Zelda's right. "You shouldn't worry so much about how I will feel. I've lived for thousands of years, and the face I wear now is borrowed like many others. And after lifetimes of change, you learn not to get attached to aesthetics."

Zelda could not find the words to reply but was grateful nonetheless for the comfort of Lilith's nonchalant attitude. It was a complete one-eighty from the night in which Zelda had decided she would be going through with Mary Wardwell's plan, she could tell that Lilith was being strong for her sake rather than sharing her true thoughts. And as much as it hurt her to see Lilith recluse into herself as she was- unfortunately- used to doing, Zelda was relieved that the only anxiety she would be dealing with tonight was her own.