2 Necronomicon

The world of magic and Witches. For ages, humans have lived with Witches as a myth or story. Just another tale of fiction. The biggest one being the Salem Witch Trials. It was thought of as just another fault in human history. Murdering innocents. But in reality, everything was true. Witches have existed for hundreds and hundreds of years. And not just as women, men too. Everyone who was connected to the devil was a Witch. Even Merlin was a Witch.

---

Damon and Aria are driving down a long morning highway. The sun slowly spanning across the tree-lined scape. The forests and nature in all directions. The cold chilling air surrounding Aria's beaten-down car as they drove a good eighty miles per hour.

Aria turned to Damon, with one hand on the steering wheel, "how old are you, exactly?"

Damon leaned back, staring out the window of Aria's beaten-down car.

"I've lived for seven hundred years. I was born around the time of the dark ages, during the thirteen thirties. And it sucked, I killed a lot of people, met a lot of people. Most I don't remember but... Now I can only remember that feeling. The feeling of love... and loss. And I hate it..."

Aria looked at Damon, his sour depressed face killing the mood.

"Ummmm... Ok, cool..." She kept driving for another five minutes, "so you got any cool stories to pass the time?"

"Nope."

"Ohhh... Nice, your one of those guys. Bet your real fun at parties..."

He stared out the window, watching the morning sunshine shine, its stunning light passing through the pinewood trees. He turned back to Aria.

"I actually have a question for you. How did you use that magic earlier? The stuff where you crushed my limbs with your mind?" he asked.

"You don't know about... Oh, umm, ok, kinda weird. You are an Immortal right?" she asked back.

Damon reflected on his past, "I lived in a small town for the past one hundred years so I'm not very inclined to know about magic."

"Yup that totally makes sense. It's not like your literally a witch. But whatever, I guess you're a special case."

She pointed to a duffle bag in the back of the car.

"I guess I'll start off simple. The basic stuff. Like... Well, all witches sell their soul to Satan."

"Huh? Satan?"

She held out her arm.

Damon leaned in close.

She rolled up her suited sleeve revealing the mark of a black hole, swirled and etched in three, it looked like a birthmark.

"The magic we use, we don't really call it magic... We call them spells. And we're called Witches, we make contracts with Satan. I got a book in that duffle bag back there. Grab it for me," she pointed at the duffle bag again.

Damon slid between the two front seats, grabbing the black duffle bag and unzipping its tight zipper.

He then pulled out a heavy book, its fleshy hardcover, with a soft stretched face staring back at him.

"It's creepy," he said opening its skin frame.

Aria quickly held out her hand stopping him from going any further, she still needed to explain a couple more things, "whoa whoa whoa! Wait let me explain it first." She grabbed the book from his hands, flipping to a page in the middle, "see these names. They're the names of all the Witches in my family. I don't want you doing anything weird with this, so you pinky-swear that you're honest about your ineptitude?"

She held out her pinky, Damon as well. They crossed at the fingertips. A perfect pinky swear to connect their friendship for all eternity.

"Good." She tossed the book back to him, "now I trust you to flip through the pages. Look look, it goes back centuries."

Damon kept flipping. The names written in blood, inc, mysterious liquids spread across its oily skin pages.

"Is this book made of skin?" he asked flipping to the last page.

"Yeah, check it out." While still looking at the road ahead she grabbed the book and flipped to its back, "look it's even got hair on the back, like an actual head. It's called a Necronomicon. It's one of many."

As Damon flipped through the skin-wrapped pages, he started to feel a little disgusted and grossed out by its human-like appearance, with the face wrapped and stitched into the frame and spine. He then started to flip through the pages, the names, the centuries and decades, dating all the way back to the late sixteenth century.

"So how does this work? You sign your name, meet Satan, strike a deal? Is that how those Immortal Horse guys get their powers?" he asked.

"Nah, well sort of. There are only ten of these books in the world right now. Each one belongs to a family of Witches, and each holds a different power that Satan gives them. I have the Gravity Necronomicon, I stole it from my family. It's probably worth billions. And the Immortal Horses have the Immortal Necronomicon, that one's worth trillions."

"Trillions?!" Damon was more shocked by the trillions than the billions in his hands.

Aria continued to explain, "you see for our magic to work, we need to give sacrifices. Like with my fingers." She showed her nailless fingers, "but your Immortality works differently. It takes that sacrifice from the souls of others, kinda like..." She thought of a good analogy, "think of like... It's like in Harry Potter. You ever read Harry Potter...? Actually don't answer that, of course you have, your seven hundred years old... Now remember Voldemort and his Horcruxes, it's basically like that. Except the Horcruxes are hundreds of human sacrifices."

"So... Wait-wait slow down..." Damon tried to take in all the information, "you're saying that... Harry Potter exists?"

"Yes."

"What?!"

"No-no, I was just kidding. It's not as easy. Like instead of wands we use our bodies. Like, I'll sacrifice my blood for a powerful spell."

"Oh... So..."

Damon thought about the magic he's seen in the past. The enchanted weapons and people with special abilities. But nothing was like this. This was an entirely different breed of magic.

---

Half an hour later, Aria pulled off the highway. She headed straight through a farmland-type area. Fields filled with crops in all directions, cows and bulls, pigs and sheep.

"Where we heading?" asked Damon as he leaned out the half-open window.

"Yeah... Sorry, we won't have time to chit-chat. I had to rush all that explaining cause we have a deadline to hit. I was supposed to capture you, but since you wouldn't stop regenerating, I had to switch up the plan and go for a different Immortal."

Aria quickly glanced at a sticky note on her cracked windshield. She then looked out at a small farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.

"Yup this is the place."

SCREECH!

She stopped the car, screeching to a sudden halt, as the car drifted into a puff of smoke. Aria and Damon looked out the dust-covered windshield to see a small two-story farmhouse.

"Get out the car, this is our first stop."

She swung open the door as the strong winds pulled her fancy suit back and forth. She walked over to the trunk of her car.

Damon followed with his naked dried-up bloodied-up body also in the wind.

Aria opened up the trunk, "I'll give you the rundown. He's a Rogue Immortal from the Immortal Horses."

Damon looked over the rear side of the trunk's cabinets. Hundreds of weapons, cruxes, curses, bottles of liquids, guns, swords, daggers.

"Here!"

She tossed him some baggy clothes.

"Your naked, you'll get cold."

"I don't get cold."

"Uh... Ok, Mr. Immortal. Just get covered up. We want to go undercover."

Damon covered up his nude body with tight blue jeans and a baggy grey sweatshirt.

He looked at himself through the window of the car.

"I look like a college white girl."

"Just shut up and wear it. It'll get bloody anyway. We just don't want to look suspicious when we get all up and personal with our target."

Aria unloaded then loaded up a pistol. She then attached it to the back of her belt, underneath her black suit jacket.

"Five bullets to the brain minimum will knock him out for a while. The guy might also have others in there, so you'll take care of em. Got it?" she said confirming Damon's dedication.

"Sure..."

She tossed him a sawed-off shotgun.

"Hide that under your sweatshirt and when I give you the signal, unload it into the house. There will be no survivors."

"Yeah yeah. I got it... I got it! Let's go!" he tried to artificially psych himself up so that he wouldn't get bored.

They walked across the dried fields of wheat. Past the evening sun as it slowly set into the horizon. They reached the small farmhouse, its two-story design with a small porch that sat out front.

Bark-bark-bark!

They stood silently outside as the dog from inside started to bark obnoxiously at them.

"You want me to kill a dog too?" asked Damon concerned for his own sanity.

"Didn't you say last night that you were already going insane? Another dead dog won't do any more harm."

"You're more insane than me."

"Just get ready."

Damon looked through the window, the dark interior. The barking and barking and barking, bouncing off the walls. His head started to spin.

Aria knocked on the front door.

"Coming!" screamed an old raspy voice from far inside the house.

They waited patiently for the man to approach. His footsteps echoing closer and closer.

They waited until the door swung open.

"Sorry, for the wait. What do you-"

Bang! Bang!

She fired two shots straight into the old man's brain.

Thump...

He fell over, blood slowly gushing from the two small holes in his head.

"Didn't you say five shots minimum?" Damon asked as he looked around the inside of the house for anyone else.

"Yeah, but there doesn't seem to be anyone here. So why not just test the dude out a bit. See how strong his immortality is."

---

They waited ten minutes for the guy to stand back up, to come back to life.

---

Six minutes later, still waiting.

Damon started to doubt Aria's authenticity.

"Are you sure this guy's immortal?"