The Black Craft

How can I fear the end when I know that where I am
headed is to a new destiny?
Being a reincarnated Witch isn't easy. 18-year-old Billie
is struggling with coming to these terms. On the eve before her
eighteenth birthday she discovers she and her family are Witches,
her best friend is an Empath and the school Principal is a

The first eighteen years of her life she's been kept in
the dark all so that she and her brother could have a normal
childhood. But her fathers' choices has led to disastrous
consequences. Billie must learn to conrtol her powers and gain
strength as the first Vampire is reborn in the small town of Penn

A lot of questions surround the new kids, Astrid, Christian and
Desiree. Billie doesn't trust them and likes it even less
when her own brother, Brian, begins to date one of them. But
what can she do about it when she has to keep her own secrets


3. Riley's Revelation

Most of the stuff on her list was party food for my birthday tomorrow.  Disdainfully, I also noticed my brothers’ favourite brand of cereal on the list which surely indicated that he wasn’t coming to the party only.  It looked like he’d be staying with us a while.  Something else my grandmother failed to tell me.  Was this becoming a trend?  What else could she be hiding?  And what the hell was up with the wall beside the fireplace?


Like I said before, most of the time getting around town took only a few minutes.  Well, my journey home may very well have taken seconds.  I was surprised I wasn’t stopped by the cops for my little stint of road rage.


After unpacking the produce in the kitchen, I marched up to Sophia’s old room where I began to dust, mop and replace the bed sheets.  I covered every inch of the room to try to get my mind off of the fact that I was angry with my grandmother.  No, not angry, I was super pissed at her.


The cleaning made for good distraction and soon enough, the clock in the living room chimed five o’clock.  Less than an hour after I finished my cleaning spree, someone rang the front door bell.  It was Riley.

“Hi.” He said.


“May I come in?”

“Of course.” I said, making way for him to enter.  When he didn’t move I added, “Well, come on in.”

“Thanks.” He grinned, looking relieved.  “I’ve never been in your house before.”

“I don’t suspect many people have.” I replied, leading the way to the small dining area.

“Right, I thought as much.”

“Yeah, the spooky house and the crazy, witch lady.”


Riley eyed the family tree on the wall curiously.

“Yeah, my Nana may be a little nuts but she’s definitely not a witch.”

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, looking around at all my grandmothers’ collections.

“Come on, there’s no such thing.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Of course.”

“Mm hmm.” He said, taking a seat.  “Where’s that light coming from?”


I looked up to see him looking over at the fireplace and noticed that same glow that I saw before.

“I don’t know what that is.  There’s a crack in the wall.”

Riley got up to investigate.  “Stay away, it’s not safe.” I said, rushing over to block the crack.


“I don’t think you want to touch that.  What if the ceiling comes down?” I asked, regretfully repeating my grandmother.

“Are you trying to hide something?” Riley asked, his face darkening.

“What?  No, why would I have anything to hide?”

“You tell me.”

“I think we should study.”  I nodded at the table where his bag was.  “Would you like something to drink?”


He smirked at this, “Do you have any Dr Pepper?”

“Sure, I’ll be right back.”

No sooner had I left when Riley returned to the wall once more.

“Hey!” I shouted, dropping the soda.  “I said, leave it alone.”

“This isn’t a wall.” Riley replied, his voice sounding oddly harsh.  “There’s something behind here.”

“It’s just a wall.”

“You seem awfully protective of it if it’s ‘just a wall’.”

“Just leave it.  My Nana is going to call someone out to take a look at it.”

“You really believe it’s a wall, don’t you?”  I looked at him nonplussed.  “Either that or you’re a really good actress.”

“Okay, you know what?  I’d like you to leave, Riley.” I said, picking up the can, his bag and handing them both to him.  “Please go.” I said more forcefully when he didn’t move.

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh, I beg to differ.”


I quickly walked to the front door, opened it and threw out the soda and his book bag.  I turned to find Riley right in front of me, he closed the door.  How could he have gotten over there so fast without me hearing him?

“Please leave.”


“I’ll call the police.”

“I don’t care.”

“Are you mad?”

“You tell me, Witch.”


Striding over to the phone, my eyes still on Riley, I saw him move this time.  Well, ‘saw’ isn’t exactly the right word to use.  He sort of flinched and then he was right in front of me again.

“What are you?” I asked, stumbling backwards, dropping the phone.

He grabbed my upper left arm and dragged me towards the fireplace.  “Ouch, you’re hurting me, Riley.”

“Then tell me the truth, no more lies, no more games.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I cried tears stinging at the corner of my eyes.


As we passed the fireplace, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror above it but it didn’t look like me.  Well, it did and it didn’t.  The girl in the mirror wasn’t moving and she was dressed differently.  How odd.

“STOP IT!” he roared, shaking me for good measure.

“Riley, stop!  You’re scaring me.”


He roared and threw me at the wall.  The wall broke on impact and I couldn’t see much of anything through my tear filled eyes.  I blinked enough back to see Riley approaching me.

“Get out of my house!” I said, with more ferocity than before.

“Look.” He said, pointing behind me.


The wall was broken and mangled and behind it stood a tall oak door with a large brass handle.

“I didn’t know…”


Riley held out a hand to help pull me up.  “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.”

Slapping his hand away, I said, “Don’t touch me.”

“I am sorry.” It sounded like he meant it, but I didn’t believe it for a second.


Getting to my feet, I faced the tall oak door, turned the handle and swung the door open.  Inside I saw at first glance a book shelf and a display case.

“This can’t be right.  There shouldn’t be a room back here.”

“You really believe that don’t you?”


“Do you even know what you are?” he asked, stepping closer.

“What am I?” I choked out a laugh.  “What the hell are you, Riley?”

“I’m half human.”

“How can you be only half human?” I asked.

“Because my father was a vampire.”

“Get out.” I snapped.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Billie.”

“I said get out.”

“Billie, please…”

“I said get… out… of… my… HOUSE!”


Throwing up my hands, as Riley reached for me, he flew backwards when the door suddenly burst open.  “And don’t return.”

He bolted for the door, picked up his bag in the garden and ran down the street.


Inside the secret room were more shelves and display cases.  There was a small lamp that lit the dim room which explained the light seeping through the crack.  At the back of the room was a tall brass stand, about level with my chest, which upon it lay an old leather covered book.


Written upon it in bold, black writing was a title, ‘The Black Craft’.  In the bottom right corner, stamped in gold, were markings of a quarter moon and three small stars.  The temptation to touch, to read was all too… well, tempting.  When I reached for the book a large shock spurred me away.  Twice more I touched the leather bindings and twice more I got shocked so hard that I gave up trying to open it.


On closer inspection of the room I found, one wide bottomed cauldron, a broomstick, some small vials and bottles filled with all manners of potions.  On what originally looked like an herb rack where small jars were filled with the strangest of ingredients I had ever seen, sat neatly in a line.


Billing’s root, Crow feathers, Mimosa, Cockle shells, Hollyhock shells, lavender, crickets, beer root and eye of newt.  There was also Tarot cards, smudge sticks, crystals and many different candles dotted all around the shelves.  Another large jar had several different labels upon it and inside the frosted glass I could see items mostly consisting of illuminating silvers, blues, greens and purples.  It was Nana’s familiar handwriting that drew me to the jar at first though, here she wrote ‘Mermaids hair’, ‘pixie wings’ and ‘stardust’.  Another much smaller jar next to that looked empty except for a few tiny, golden lights glowing and buzzing around inside.  Hanging from a string, around the neck of the jar, a tag had this written upon it;


Angels Breath – not to be opened unless in dire emergency.  J.E. Black, 1688.


The glass felt warm and the lights grew brighter at my touch.  Magic was real, it dawned on me.  I blinked hard, hoping that when I opened my eyes I’d find myself in bed after having a very bizarre dream about magic and a secret room behind the fireplace.  No, such luck.  Opening my eyes, I found I was very much awake and all my surrounding were also very real.


Back in the living room, I went to pick up my purse and car keys when they flew to me.  I screwed up my face, pursed my lips in attempt not to curse out loud as I ran for the door which burst open on my approach.

“Oh, damn it!” I yelled, running to the car.


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