Night Ride

She cackled as she flew by the white moon; a child squirming in the burlap sack was flung over her shoulder. She knew it was her night, the night of Samhain, Halloween. Ghosts peeled back the thin veil separating the living and the dead. The witch’s sisters danced barefoot and naked in the forest. A pagan demon played the flute; he was serenading the wicked beauties. Music sliced through the night. Birds circled Ravens gathered, amassing quite the murder. Demons and ghosts massaged their erogenous zones. Males or females, it did not matter. Sex was sex to a bride of Satan. All witches were brides of Satan.

The flying witch landed in front of her cottage deep in the dark woods. Fire lit the way for the dancing witches. The flying witch named Agatha, greeted her sisters Bonnie and Gertrude. The latter two were far more beautiful than Agatha. Bonnie and Gertrude were also far more vain than Agatha; they used so much more of their powers to keep themselves young and gorgeous. Agatha saw no point in this. If she so desired she could just cast a spell on a villager and make him fall in love with her.

“Have you got a tasty treat in the bag?” Bonnie asked. Agatha nodded.

“Indeed, I do. It’s a boy.”

“Spicy,” Gertrude said. “A peasant child; he won’t be missed.”

The three witches entered the cottage where candles lit up the house. She made her way into the kitchen. She smashed the boy’s head until the bag stopped moving. She removed the limp boy from the bag, set him on the kitchen table, and grabbed a knife. Then she skinned him and chopped him up and threw him in a stew, with potatoes and carrots. Agatha brought the pot to a boil and served up three bowls of stew. Agatha grabbed the pepper and poured some into her bowl.

“How about some stew with your pepper?” Gertrude chuckled. Agatha eyed her youngest sister.

“Shut up,” Agatha said.

“I expected a better comeback than that,” Bonnie said.

“I’m starving,” Agatha said. “I have no desire to be witty.”

“Afraid you’ll be unarmed in a battle of wits?” Bonnie taunted.

Agatha raised her hand and chanted a few magic words, and Bonnie writhed around on the floor while muttering in tongues.

“Did you have to do that?” Gertrude said. “She was only teasing.”

“It’s a light spell,” Agatha said. “It’ll only last thirty more seconds or so.”

“You’re such a bitch sometimes,” Gertrude said.

“Witch rhymes with bitch,” Agatha told her. Bonnie stood up and said words of her own. Agatha spent the next thirty seconds sneezing her head off.

“We use our powers too liberally,” Agatha protested.

“I guess we do,” Bonnie said.

There’s a knock on the door. Gertrude answered, and found a blonde-haired, blue-eyed man.

“Hello,” the man said. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” Gertrude said. The man wore a white suit. He entered the home and as he walked past her, Gertrude felt that the man had a power, that the three sisters combined could not match. Agatha saw him first and a chill ran up her spine when she saw him.

“Death has come to collect?” Agatha whispered.

“I see you recognize me,” the man said. “We’ve certainly flirted enough.”

“That we have,” Agatha said.

“What’s going on?” Bonnie asked. “This is Agatha’s three hundredth Halloween,” the man said.

“You know what happens next.”

“We walk with the Reaper on our three hundredth Halloween,” Agatha said.

“You going to come quietly?” Death says.

“What choice do I have?” Agatha answered. Finally, Agatha walked with Death.

“Does this mean you’re coming to collect my sister and me on our three-hundredth birthday?” Bonnie asked. The flames turned blue, the door blew open, and Satan flapped his black wings. His three toed feet scrapped against the wooden floor as he walked. Bonnie and Gertrude watched as Agatha was torn apart by the devil. Blood flew as claws tore flesh. After tearing Agatha to shreds Satan proceeded to do the same thing to Bonnie and Gertrude. The lights went out and Death vanished. The spirits of the three witches sobbed as the devil forced them to link hands. He took Agatha’s hand, and the devil rode off with the three damned witches’ souls in tow; they were flying by the same moon Agatha had flown by earlier. The ghosts had all gone to bed. They were waiting and resting up for next Halloween.