Asidefromwriting is doing a Sunday Write-Up initiative and I thought I’d try it out.
Today’s five words are:
Here’s my piece… it was an interesting challenge. I’ve located an image from this blog that I think goes nicely with it.
Cult of Souls
Hagatha cackled and threw her head back and howled with glee. She’d make a fine brew tonight with the new delivery. She thrust the broom between her legs and clicked once to call Golem onto the spindly brush end of her broom. His warm black body pressed against her back and they were off into the night sky with a cackle and a low purr.
Golem leapt from her broom as she descended into the grounds of her hut. His midnight body darted across the shadows and the moonlight slivers and through the cat flap into their home. Hagatha thrust her broom into the corner of the small porch, scattering spiders and webs in every direction. She paused on the doorstep before reaching back into the webby broom storage and removed a live bird-eating spider. Its hairy legs flailed uselessly in her iron grip. Its black fangs thrashing at the night air as she carried it in through the door and into her home.
Golem sat upon a high wooden bench, licking his right paw and rubbing it behind his ear. He purred softly as he did so. His golden eyes closed to tiny moon-shaped slits, open just enough to watch his Mistress with the spider. Hagatha skirted around her large iron cauldron and brought the hairy spider over to the table. With her free hand she grasped the hilt of a gilded dagger. She pressed the spiders body to the table and drove the dagger through it. The insect squealed its death into the small room.
Leaving the spider impaled on the dagger on the table, Hagatha busied herself placing the wood for a fire underneath the cauldron. As she moved across the room to the stack of wood, she brushed against a cover hanging on the wall. The mirror remained covered until the new moon. She’d be able to see her true self in the new rays of the lunar light. Turning her back on the covered mirror, she flicked her wrist and the dry wood burst into a full flame.
“Alright, let’s get this potion started.” Hagatha waved her fingers to the bookshelf in the corner, and a large rust coloured tome flew across the room and lay itself opened beside Golem on the table. The cat hissed and jumped across to the single high-backed chair in the room. He curled up upon the cushion but kept one eye upon his Mistress.
Turning her attention to the potion, Hagatha ran one pointed, crusty nail down the page.
1 Bird-eating spider
2 frogs legs
4 death cap mushrooms, sliced thinly
1 golem nose
½ a turnip baked in the midnight moon for a season
30 litres of muddy creek water
A pinch of wolfsbane
Mix all ingredients (except for the nose, hair and wolfsbane) into a cauldron and leave to boil for three hours. Keep an eye on the colour, the potion will change from red to purple, to blue and finally black. You must put the remaining ingredients into the potion as it changes from blue to black. Follow this step with the final sequence of the ritual dance of Dionysus and allow the potion to cool. If these steps are missed you will need to start again.
Hagatha placed the ingredients into the cauldron, cackling and hooting with glee. She would enjoy this potion. She mixed the strange soup and danced around the brew.
“Golem, I shall be free of this existence soon. I’ll be able to leave this dreadful forest and run with the pack again.” She grinned, her long raven coloured hair flying out behind her as she danced with a glint in her dark eyes. Golem opened one golden orb and watched her with disinterest before he curled his tail around him and resumed his nap.
Hagatha placed the potion book back into the bookshelf and decided for the next three hours she’d busy herself with preparing for her departure. When packing her few possessions into a small bag didn’t take very long, she decided to have a nap upon her small fur covered bed before completing the potion.
“Golem, make sure you wake me when that potion is ready!” She called to the snoozing feline. The cat lifted his head and peered at her from across the room.
Hagatha awoke to the morning sun peeking through the crack in the roof and slashing across her face and the sound of panpipes.
“No! Golem! You wicked little furball, you didn’t wake me!” She screeched as she raced across the room to the cauldron. The fire had long since died and the black potion was cool to the touch. She looked around the room for the cat, but couldn’t find him.
“Where are you?” She called out the door. “Golem! Here Kitty!” Yet the cat remained missing.
Hagatha came back to the potion. She sighed and figured she’d have to wait for the next delivery before she could try again. She moved to the table to put away the werewolf hair and wolfsbane, but the table was bare.
There was only a small cat-sized footprint.
She saw similar wet kitty prints along the floor from the table to the cauldron. They went between the table and cauldron twice. Hagatha followed the tiny paw prints around the potion and then, suddenly, they stopped. A large splatter of blood-like brown syrup covered the floor and the side of the cauldron. She turned in a circle, searching the floor for the next kitty prints.
There were none.
In her haste, she’d failed to see the wet footprints, like those of a small child, running from the wing backed chair to the door.
“Blast! That’s the fourth golem this year!”
Hagatha turned and closed the door behind her, then she went to unpack her clothes and resume her solitary life until the next shipment from The School of Witchery. She’d make herself another golem at the next full moon and then finally she’d be able to return to her natural lupine state and escape this human prison.
Why don’t you try your hand at the Sunday Write-Up too?