Jane Jago’s Halloween Drabble

“The spell is ripe,” the shackled woman whispered.

Alisan and Armant regarded her with bright, vicious eyes, as the fetish stood up.

“Madam. What is your desire?”

It was Alisan who spoke. “We want Mother’s head.”

The creature disappeared with a bang and a whiff of decay. Moments later it returned, dragging something by a rope of pale hair. Alisan slit the old witch’s throat with his saw-edged knife as his brother snatched at the hair.

Horsehair. Attached loosely to the head of a hungry demon. It gnawed their living bones.

The spirit of the witch they tortured laughed. 

©️jj 2018

 

 

Ghost

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: