The Witch Next Door

“What the hell is that smell?” Dillon Smart mumbled as he rolled over and buried his face in the pillow. It smelled like human waste or rotten eggs and other things he couldn’t even describe. “Oh my gawd, it’s disgusting.” he said out loud as he looked at the clock that glowed 2:30 a.m. Dillon sat up, put his legs on the floor and plugged his nose all in one movement. He went to the bathroom and as he was standing there he turned the slat in the window blind and looked outside. His neighbor was outside at 2:30 in the morning dancing around a fire pit in a black gown waving a corn stalk above her head. Whatever she was burning was letting off a yellow smoke and that’s what was putting off the malodorous, noxious, fumes that had woken him up. He watched her for a minute when she suddenly stopped dancing, turned and looked directly at him, or so it seemed.

The middle of the night escapade disturbed Dillon all through the day. Driving to work, he swore a black cat darted across his path and then again in the break room he knocked over the salt shaker and caught himself pitching what fell out over his left shoulder, or was it the right? He didn’t get freaked out until he absentmindedly walked under a tall ladder in the lobby at his office. He didn’t realize it until someone said, ‘hey you have bad luck if you walk under ladders.” He just shrugged it off until he remembered seeing his witchy neighbor lady outside in the middle of the night dancing around like a fruit cake. He felt he was being quite superstitious today with the cat and salt.

At home shortly before dusk, when the sun is sinking and it isn’t quite dark, Dillon was in his backyard finishing up some last minute raking when he heard the faint laughing and giggling. He didn’t want to be seen or heard so he crept over to the wooden privacy fence and peered through a hole between the boards. He can’t say he was shocked or surprised when he saw the four women sitting in a circle around the fire pit. They were all dressed in a different color cape: red, blue, yellow and black. He couldn’t hear what they were saying he could only see some of their actions.

The lady in red dropped something in a bowl and she passed it to the lady in blue who in turn dropped something different into the bowl. The bowl traveled the circle with each woman putting something different inside. When the bowl finally returned to the lady in red she cast the concoction into the fire. After a moment of snapping and cracking up billowed a lavender smoke plume, which dissipated quickly leaving an aroma of vanilla and citrus. Dillon stood and watched them perform another ritual one creating blue smoke smelling like exotic incense. He didn’t make a sound, but again he felt his neighbor turn and look directly at him like she knew he was there. Dillion felt a shiver run down his spine as he turned to leave.

“Dillon. Diillon. Diiilllon. Diiillon.” Hearing his name woke him up. He opened his eyes and glanced at the clock. Again it was 2:30 in the morning. He could see through the window a faint glowing light, and he took the pillow and covered his head. When he heard his name being called again, “Dillon, Diillon” curiosity got the best of him as he tiptoed outside to find the hole in the fence as he had earlier in the day.

The hole had changed; it was aglow in a light green color and twinkled every few seconds. He moved his head in different directions and looked at the hole from various angles, it glinted and sparkled. When he touched it ripples formed and ran outwards to the edge of the hole. He snatched his hand back. It didn’t shock him; it didn’t cause pain; was warm to the touch. Dillon looked at the barrier and instead of touching it again, he stuck his hand all the way through the wood. “Incredible!” he thought as he went in up to his elbow and again removed his arm. Nothing happened to his arm, it was still intact. He performed this act a few more times leaving his hand and arm in the hole for different amounts of time, just to be sure and nothing ever happened. Dillon’s brightest idea came when he decided to look through the hole, to see if he could better watch his witchy next door neighbor.

He poked his head through the hole in the fence. He stood there and watched his neighbor and for a brief second he thought that his neck felt hot and then when he couldn’t move he was sure something was going wrong. As he tried to back out of the hole, the wood no longer had a fluidity about it, it was again as solid as wood. His head was stuck in the hole and when his neighbor glanced over at him, like she knew he was there, he heard her casting a spell,

“Knotty pine and all wood that is thee,

Silence listening ears and blind eyes that see,

Shame on those for spying on me.

I wish it so, so mote it be.”

All Dillon could do was let out one last scream!

image is by Chris McKenney, via The Night Blogger: https://thenightblogger.com/2016/10/22/the-faceless-people-by-chris-mckenney/

The next night.:

“Love, love, love your Halloween decoration Beatrix!” stated the witch dressed in blue.

“Yes, it’s so life like,” the one dressed in yellow chimed in.

“So, so Dillon like?” laughed Beatrix.