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Eileen wouldn't have discovered Witchwood that morning if she hadn’t let the cat in. But she opened the window for the black cat to glide gracefully, almost politely, from the windowsill to the sofa. The stray cat had been wandering around the house for a few days and her father, William, expressly forbid her from letting it in. Eileen, however, was angry with her father and he still hadn't returned from work, so it seemed like the perfect occasion to disobey. She wasn't thinking about the excuse she would give when he returned. After all, the girl had a sort of talent for making up excuses. In those moments she only thought that she needed some distraction and that this was the most horrible birthday a fifteen-year-old could imagine. Little did she know that it was about to turn into something much worse.
Eileen stuck her head out the window and squinted, her vision dazzled by the sun. The house they rented in Nottinghamshire was in the countryside. They had no neighbours. Just grass, more grass, a few trees, and behind the trees a road that led to the forgotten town of Burntmouth. A bore. With a shudder, Eileen closed the window and sat alongside the cat. He didn’t have a collar but was well-groomed. Maybe he has an owner? At least he seemed friendly and let her stroke his head. But soon she wasn’t thinking about the cat anymore, and she couldn't help but wince at the memory of yesterday's fight with her Dad. They never had such an awful argument before. I know what I said was hurtful… but it was kind of true. Eileen loved her father more than anyone else in the world. He had raised her by himself, he had given up everything for her. It’s just stupid. Why can't he let go of the fact that I stole some History exams?
At first, no one believed that she would do it, not even her. It all started as a silly dare from one of the popular guys at her new school. Eileen thought he was joking until one day a classmate showed up with a set of lockpicks and handed it to her. Apparently, they’d been planning to steal the History exams for a long time, but no one was able to open the teacher's office using the lockpicks. Eileen took them thinking there was no way she was ever going to use them. However, one day she decided to try one of the door locks at home and it turned out that she was quite good at it. A couple of weeks later, no lock could resist her ability. Her classmates began calling her by her name instead of "the new girl" and talking to her to discuss the plan. They even said they’d come to her birthday party. One thing led to another and Eileen ended up in the headmistress' office. Just the day before her birthday party, that, of course, her Dad immediately cancelled. Because I have such good luck.
Eileen stopped petting the cat, who was staring at her as if wondering what was she thinking. She got up, opened the fridge and took out some slices of cooked ham. She put them on a napkin in front of the cat, who began to eat, while still watching her with his enigmatic yellow eyes. Eileen sighed. I’ve never seen Dad so angry. He even requisitioned the set of lockpicks. And, as always when they argued, they finished up talking about her mother. Every time her father mentioned her a burning sensation ran through her chest and made her want to bury her head in the pillow and scream.
Her face was suddenly hot at the thought of what they said to each other before her father left to work overtime at the petrol station. Determined, Eileen left the cat alone, went to her father's room, and stared at the nightstand. Even though her mother abandoned them when she was a baby, her father still kept her picture by his bedside: a beautiful woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. Hello again, complete stranger who’s supposedly my Mum. I know I say it every time, but we don’t even look alike. How I’d loooove to throw that photo of you in the bin! Fifteen years had passed and her father was still behaving as if his wife was going to walk through the door at any moment.
Eileen turned the photograph to the wall and opened the drawer of the nightstand. As expected, she found the lock pick set Dad had requisitioned from her the day before. Then she went to the laundry room. Finding it locked, she knew that she guessed correctly —her father was hiding her birthday present inside, so she picked at the lock. Soon, the lock on the laundry room clicked open. Satisfied, she stuffed the picks into her pyjama pocket. Indeed, her present waited on top of the dryer. At least what she assumed was her present because there was a big red bow on top of it. If it hadn't been for the bow, Eileen would've thought her father had gone mad.
“Seriously? This?”
Eileen walked over to the cage. Inside there was a small mouse with tan fur. On one side of the cage, there was a card that said: “Hello, my name is Oliver! I'm a house mouse and I'm very well trained. Nice to meet you". Eileen couldn't help a smile.
"Likewise, Oliver. My name is Eileen.”
Next to the cage was a bag of sunflower seeds. Eileen took a few and began handing them through the slit. Oliver took them in his little hands and used his teeth deftly to open them. Eileen, enraptured, reached in and stroked his head. She'd never had a pet before, but it took her that moment to know that she and Oliver would always be together.
"Do you want to come to my birthday party, Oliver? I'm keeping it a secret from my father, given that now I’m sort of a rebellious teenager. If I’m honest, I'd like for him to be here instead of working, and even have some friends over like a normal girl, but hey, it’s too late for that. Yes, you say? Wonderful! What is that? Oh, don't worry about the cat! He's full of ham.”
Eileen opened the cage door and held out her hands. Oliver came out confidently and climbed onto her shoulder. Feeling cheerful for the first time in hours, Eileen headed into the living room. The black cat was still lying on the couch and showed no interest at all in the little mouse.
"I told you, Oliver, it seems Mr Black Cat is also a gentleman. By the way, I hope you like cheesecake.”
Eileen opened the refrigerator door, took out the cake, and carried it into the living room. She put in a candle and ignited it with a lighter. Her Dad had a few paper hats laying around, so she put one on and placed a couple on top of some cushions. For a moment she entertained the idea of trying to put a paper hat on the cat, but something in the way he looked at her made her abandon the project. She stroked Oliver, who seemed comfy on her shoulder, and looked around at her sad, weird birthday party. At least no one’s here to witness this. Finally, she settled into an armchair and prepared to blow out the candle, but not before singing the mandatory song.
"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me… I wish Dad was here even though I’m mad at him… Happy birthday to me!"
And she blew out the candle. As soon as the flame went out, a loud knock on the front door echoed throughout the house. Eileen flinched at the noise. It took her a second to stand up. There was another blow, even louder. She started walking towards the door, her knees a bit wobbly.
"Don't open the door," said a deep voice behind her.
Eileen turned to see who had spoken. However, behind her there was only… the cat. Were his lips moving? Am I losing it or did the cat talk to me?
Eileen froze, her feet pinned to the spot where she stood. A strange sensation took over her body. It was as if the air around her became sharp, like you could cut yourself if you dared to move. A sweeping cold ran down her spine and her teeth began clacking together. The heating was on, yet her fingers ached and she found it difficult to breathe. The knocks on the door hammered louder and louder. The cat jumped nimbly onto the windowsill, prying it open with its front paws.
"We have to go now!", the cat said.
Yep, that was the cat talking! With words! To ME! What the…?
Eileen tried to form words of her own but no sound came out. BOOM, BOOM! The knocking on the door was now undoubtedly violent. Whoever was behind it, they were not knocking. They were trying to break the door down.
"Come on, quick!", the cat said.
But it was too late. The door burst open. A powerful jolt hit Eileen from behind and knocked her to the ground. In the doorway stood a tall man clothed in black. Something red and metallic glinted in his pale hand. Eileen gasped. A dagger! The blade was of intense red and it throbbed as if it were alive. Suddenly, the man's other arm began to twist unnaturally, reaching out toward her.
Eileen couldn't move, she could only observe how that man grew in height, how his limbs lengthened in a way that was impossible for a person. Her breathing heavy, her heart in her throat. His bony, white hand drew closer, his blade-like fingers twisting and cracking, reaching for her ankles. He was about to grab her when a small creature ran down her leg; Oliver launched himself without hesitation towards that hideous hand and bit down hard. An inhuman screech roared through the man's lips. Eileen came out of the trance and staggered to her feet, driven by fear. The man caught a glimpse of the little mouse and was about to crush it with one of his grisly hands. But before he did, the black cat pounced on him ferociously, knocking him off balance. Eileen ran to Oliver and took him in her hands. A loud thud distracted her. The man had hurled the cat across the air until it slammed against the wall.
“No!” Eileen screamed.
The cat, on the ground, was shaking and began to give off a kind of dense black smoke. His body enlarged, his fur became rough and bristly, while his fangs grew in size. Fearsome claws peeked out from his gigantic paws. His eyes glowed fiercely with an amber light. The cat, now reaching the height of Eileen's chest, turned his head towards her.
"Run for the trees!", he said to her, this time in a deeper, resounding voice.
Without saying anything else, the cat charged again against his adversary who was now ready to receive him. Eileen didn't stay to watch. She shoved Oliver into her pyjama pocket, climbed onto the windowsill, and slid quickly through the window. Slams and screams of pain reached her from the house, but she had to keep going. She jumped the fence and ran towards the trees. The landscape was a green blur around her; her lungs burned with each breath as she ran, blood thumping in her ears. She had almost arrived at the trees when something tugged at her leg.
Eileen tripped and fell flat on her face. She turned around just to find the man clothed in black dangerously close. He had lengthened his arms and his deathly pale hands now clutched her feet. He pulled her towards him, and panic clawed through her whole body. Eileen struggled while the distance between them shortened, tears coming to her eyes, desperately trying to shake him off. But it was hopeless. With a jerk, the man dragged her until she was directly underneath him. He was holding his red dagger between his gruesome teeth and gripped her ankles with one hand so he could grab the weapon with the other. The wooden handle was carved in the shape of a woman.
Something about the stranger’s face was not completely awful, as if he had been a handsome man once but was now irrevocably tainted. He had dark hair and white skin, almost gleaming. The murky eyes, like knives, pierced through her skull. Red veins ran through his white neck, and his features were elongated and sharp, like you would cut yourself if you touched them. But what caught her attention the most was his expression —he was not angry, nor was he anxious, but completely indifferent. He’s looking at me like I’m nothing.
The man got on top of her and Eileen kneed him in the face, kicking with all her might as he tried to grab her wrists. During the struggle, the man's shirt unbuttoned, revealing a wound on his heart. A bloody cut in the flesh pulsated open, veins branching out of it and running through his chest. Finally free, Eileen stood to run, but the man hit her wearily in the stomach. The air escaped her lungs and she dropped to the ground. This is it, I can’t resist any longer. He’s going to kill me. Wait, is that…?
The cat appeared out of thin air. Still in his feral form, but bruised and bloodied, he leapt into his opponent's face and buried his claws into his eyes. The man fell backwards, twisting and screaming, while Eileen, still on the ground, tried to breath normally. In an instant, the air became even sharper, and the man was not screaming anymore. The dagger’s blade shined in his hand, and he made a deep gash in the animal’s leg with a quick movement. The cat collapsed in pain and regained its usual shape. The man stood and approached Eileen, getting on top of her at an abnormal speed. The razor-sharp blade gleamed with freshly spilt blood as the man lifted it about Eileen's head.
A hiss ran through the air. An arrow pierced the forearm of her attacker, and his dagger dropped. This time he didn't cry out, completely frozen instead. Eileen took the opportunity to get away from him, stand up and grab the almost unconscious cat. And then she ran. Without thinking. Without looking back. Towards the nearest tree.
"She's waiting for you in Witchwood," said the cat, barely able to speak.
“Who? What are you talking about?”
“On the other side. Just walk into the tree”.
Eileen had reached the tree, a wild cherry. There was no hole, no door, and nothing for Eileen to walk into. Goosebumps sprang up all over her body, panic about to take control.
"There’s nothing here!"
"Put your hand on the trunk, I'll guide you."
Eileen obeyed and yet nothing happened. Desperate, she made the mistake of looking back. The monstrous man's face, blood pouring from his eyes, was just a few feet away from her.
"I don't know what to do, it's not working!"
“You're a witch. It’ll work.”
“What?”
But Eileen could no longer hear the cat. Her hand had somehow sunk into the trunk of the tree. The tips of her fingers were warmer, caressed by a gentle breeze. What the hell? She dared to stick a foot into the tree trunk and her skin merged with the bark. Suddenly something tugged at her, pushing her forwards. She stepped into the tree, her heart racing, and slammed her eyes shut in fear and excitement, still holding the cat close to her chest. Something was taking her away from this place, and she couldn’t quite comprehend why going through the tree felt like being hugged by someone you love.
And then the hug stopped. She peeled her eyes open, and her breath caught. The high, honey-coloured wall of a castle, all covered in vines, surrounded her. She was in a sort of inner garden, the grass interspersed by multicoloured flowers and exquisite alabaster statues. Behind her, there was a tree, another cherry tree, different to the one she came through.
"Sorcerers can't follow you here," said the cat, just before his eyes closed.
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Thank you for reading the first chapter of Witchwood, Book One: Spring!265Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYtkpUf5w2n
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Chapter 2: You're a Witch (coming soon)
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