Witches to the Slaughter

Bex practically preens at the praise, because like Mavis, she was able to summon her familiar. A few others failed on their first try too, but Emory doesn't see her lecturing them.

It's only because she's cursed. She scowls at a smirking Bex and Carrie.

"Alright, no more for today Emory. Start cleaning up please." Priestess Promiliar adjusts the skirts of her black robe and gestures for the other girls to make their way towards the basement door.

Emory sighs and stands up, moving over to the supplies cabinet to the left of the basement. She already has her sanding block in hand when the light overhead starts to flicker.

Emory's pale brows furrow as she looks up at the light. It continues to go on and off, the room flooding in darkness before lighting up once more.

"Mavis, please let Mrs. Marline know that the basement light needs replac-"

There's a moment of absolute silence, when time seems to slow down but Emory knows it all happens in a matter of seconds.

There's a huge splatter, the sound loud as it breaks the empty silence. Emory's clothes are wet, warm and heavy, and she flinches as something hits the side of her face.

Her body freezes, her vision drowned in red as she watches blood drip down from the light bulb. The smell of copper floods the air, and her hands start to shake. Slowly, she turns to look behind her, and Emory's hands fly to her mouth to muffle her terrified screech.

Madame Promilia lays on the floor, the top half of her body splattered across the basement walls. Standing over her lower half, where her intestines spill onto the floor, a beast Emory has only ever seen on the news and read in books, holds his fist out. His entire forearm and hand is covered in Madame Promilias blood, dripping down onto her ruined robes. Or what's left of it. Emory can see her glasses laying a few feet away, the lenses shattered.

Horns four feet tall arch off of a balding leathery head. Red irises surrounded by black stares back at her, sharp teeth hooking into his bottom lip on a snarl. His skin is like a dusky red, dark and covered in shadows.

A demon. A high ranking demon is in the covens basement.

Suddenly, the silence breaks once more and Bexie screams, which sets the other girls off and her hands fly out.

"Feimo Bariīte!" The defense spell hurls towards the demon but when it hits him, he doesn't move an inch. It was like the invisible barrier didn't even notice he was there. It just flies right past him, and instead, destroys the glass beakers on the counter behind him.

Emorys heart races in her chest as a growl rips from his throat. His tail lashes behind him, his shadow encompassing the basement floor. The other girls are desperately racing up the basement stairs, hands fumbling with the door handle.

Emory's gaze turns back to the demon, where he crouches. His shoulders roll back and then he pounces, moving so fast that she hardly knows it's happening until it's too late.

Black claws rip into tender flesh, Bex's scream cuts off with a thick and wet gurgle. Blood sprays from her neck like a sprinkler, spraying Emory across the face again. It gets into her eyes, turning her vision red. She falls back onto her ass and scrambles back, watching as the demon jumps from one coven sister to the next. Her back hits the wall, and her chest aches at the bloody massacre.

Why didn't they open the door? Why didn't they run? Emorys breathes are quick and rapid, what the hell is this? How did a demon get inside of the covens basement? Did one of the girls -? No. And it's not like it came in through the door, which is still tightly shut for some reason.

The realization is scary as she stares at the six foot seven beast of a demon. She summoned it. So then, is this her familiar?

Her lungs spasms in her chest when dark red eyes zero in on her. It's back to silence, except for the drip, drip of blood from the ceiling.

This is her faemiliar? But, how is he outside of the summoning circle? How did he get out? And he isn't fae at all, he's a demon. A murdering demon who tore apart her - a sob wretches from her throat - hercoven sisters. The demon walks towards her with purposeful steps, his shadow stretching out behind him in a way that strikes her as odd.

She doesn't notice it now, the second demon attached to him, but she does later when it's too late.

All she can focus on is that she's going to die at the hands of her own familiar. Her demon familiar.

Fuck this curse, dude.

His bloody hand raises, the drip of red from his claws drops on her face and a sob escapes her.

But then he's gone and a loud crash shakes the floor beneath her. Emory blinks up at nothing but air, and turns to look at the demon sprawled on the floor. The figure on top of him jumps up.

Emory's eyes widen at the sight of Walker snapping his sharp teeth at the demon below him. His red claws are out, and she sees just how miniscule they look compared to the latter's. They're not as long as the demons, nor as sharp. His scales spreads over the back of his arms and hands, shining at Emory like a protective barrier.

Walker, she forgot he was upstairs in her room. He must have heard the screaming and came down to check if everything was okay. Which it most certainly is not!

"Don't just fucking stand there, Em!" Walker's voice is unrecognizable. It's rough, deep, a growl from within his chest that it has her skin erupting in goosebumps. He sounds inhuman, he sounds almost like the demon. "Run!" He snarls, a thick puff of smoke escaping his mouth.

She shakes herself out of the strange trance she's in and scrambles to her feet. Only she can't run. Emory can't leave Walker here to clean up her mess, no, not to die because of her. She needs to help him-

The demon throws Walker across the room, the impact of his body slamming into the cement walls causes it to cave in. He disappeares in the debris and dirt clouds and Emory cries out. He's not dead, is he? She turns to the demon who laughs at her.

What can she do? What can a fucking cursed witch do against a high rank demon?