26 A trapped animal

Adam watched the door that the witches exited. He did not care if they even hid behind the closet. He would still hear whatever they were discussing in private.

Their whispers would still be loud enough for him to decipher. But his friend could not. It seemed he was the only one who acquired such power to hear from a considerable distance.

The rest of his kind only developed their strength, speed, agility, ability to heal, and immortality. Other than that, their senses, compared to a human, only increased by just a level higher, unlike his.

"Put your knife away. You will not need that tonight." He ordered, gazing at the hands of his friend, who was busily playing with his sharp weapon, a tool his friend loved to use in combat.

Besides, he did not want to scare the witches any further. If they were going to do some ritual on him, he wanted them to be confident with what they were doing.

He had no plan to turn into a frog because the witches messed up with the spell because their lips shook in fear or their hands trembled, unknowingly putting the wrong item on their big boiling pot.

"What do you think are the witches up to?" His friend whispered to him as they waited on the other side of the room. His friend had not a clue of his hidden capabilities.

Just like him, Isaac was skeptical about trusting those witches. He also never believed in their magic, but he was not a fool not to prepare for their tricks.

But he also had no clue. He could only remember a few vague memories of what he witnessed about sorcery, other than that. He could only shrug his shoulders at his friend's query.

"I have no idea, but we will see soon enough," Adam told his friend as he moved towards the closed window, peeking outside through the tiny slit.

A weak gush of wind passed through the opening, his nose smelling nothing in the air. His eyes only saw darkness on the other side, not detecting any movement from the shadows lurking behind the trees or even the bushes.

His senses did not pick anything that would seem like a threat. Nothing outside, living or dead, could harm them as far as he could tell.

"Although, I think we can trust these two, just this once." Judging from what he was hearing on the other side of the room, he had no reason to think Elisia was planning to double-cross him. At the moment, he was aware of her plans.

But he would still be watching them because it would seem they were not the only ones at play in this elaborate scheme of things. These ancient witches seemed to be part of this show, hiding behind the scene.

He moved to the other side of the room, sitting on one of the stools, while his friend moved to the other side, just waiting and observing. This time, Isaac tucked his knife away, following his directive.

"We are sorry to keep you waiting." Finally, Elisia emerged from the other side of the room, carrying some objects in her hands. Then, the other girl followed closely behind her, with a small black pot cradled in her palms.

His mind studied the items the two placed on the makeshift altar on the other side of the room. He had seen it before when he was very young. But the others were still unknown to him.

Maybe even the witches had also evolved in their craft, not just the werewolves and humans. He believed multiple changes also happened to him in the last several years. But one thing he learned through his long life, nothing remained constant.

"So, how do we do this?" He impatiently asked, ready to get the action going because he did not want to waste any more of his time. He stood from his seat, preparing himself for the said ceremony.

"We have to do some rituals, and we need you to sit over here." Elisia pointed at the floor with white markings drawn on the wooden planks.

A circle dominated the middle of the room, which he was sure was not there before. Then, a few additional symbols that he knew he had seen somewhere but could not remember where.

"Here." He pointed to the spot in the middle of the circle as the two girls stood, just outside of it.

It sounded sketchy, but he had to trust them. Or else, he would have only one choice left, and at the moment, he wanted his options to be open.

He sat crossed-legged in the middle of the room when Elisia nodded her head. Then, he made himself comfortable, tilting his head to see what else the women were doing as he waited quietly for their next instruction.

He watched the two women walk around the room, moving around, circling him as they started chanting some words he did not understand.

Then, silence.

Elisia walked back to the altar and put a few items on the small pot. He could not help but slightly smile. His idea of a big boiling pot had also changed, seeing the difference in its current size.

Then, Ivrea moved around the room, placing some lighted candles outside the circle surrounding him. He grew impatient with the useless ceremony as each minute ticked by, but he had no choice but to wait.

Finally, Elisia turned to him with Ivrea beside her. They walked closer to the circle and chanted once again. After a few seconds, their hands lifted in his direction as if they were bestowing some spell on him.

"I want you to concentrate on the fire. I need you to feel its heat going through your body." Elisia faced him as if ordering him to follow her command.

His eyes suddenly focused on the one in front of him, watching its flame move upward, stretching to the sky. It looked so harmless, but he knew how deadly it could be.

The flame continued to grow as heat invaded his body. It was like the fire entered each molecular cell of his skin and converged into his heart, inflaming him, making him burn.

"Aaahhh!" His lips parted, and his shout echoed inside the room.

"What are you doing to me?" He shouted as his skin burst into flame. "Stop this." But the witches continued with their ritual, not stopping despite his protest.

It felt like his body was breaking into pieces. Each of his bones cracked as it tore through his joints. He felt the pain of dying, but he was still alive somehow, living through the pain.

"Aaahhh!" He roared into the room, shouting, screaming as fire engulfed him, scorching him, making him burst into flame.

With his hands spread out before him, suddenly kneeling on the floor, he released the fire inside him, wanting the heat to leave his body. With one last breath, he growled once more.

Then, he dropped down with a thud on the wooden surface, all his strength spent on the ritual. He struggled to move but to no avail. He had not a single ounce of strength left in him.

In his fading consciousness, he knew he did not die. But he wondered what the witches did to him. He wanted to ask, to strangle them in their necks, but he could not even lift his finger.

He could see his friend from his peripheral vision, watching him like a hawk, but he seemed unaware of what had just transpired. It would seem that the witches had outsmarted them after all.

He had fallen into their lure and was now at their mercy. His friend was clueless while he lay almost lifeless, like a trapped animal.