A witch knows her magic. She knows the strength she carries in her mind. What happens when Sabine uncovers a secret grimoire and unleashes the dangerous secrets of a messed up vampire?
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The night started with an intense fever.
Sabine tossed and turned in her bed, an unusual occurrence for her. Most of the time she was able to close her eyes and drift off into a peaceful rest. Tonight, however, her body battled a long war with her brain, screaming at her to fix the unbearable heat that lurched around in her body.
Sabine flicked off her satin comforter allowing the colder air of the room attack her. She always kept her room cold so that she could justify the insane amount of blankets she kept piled high on her bed. It was more of a safety thing than that of usefulness.
She wiped away the sweat from her forehead and limply removed the silk scarf from her head, hoping that some form of breeze would blow her scalp and invariably cool down the fires of her mind. She blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the dark of the room.
The old table clock positioned on her right side table read 1:42 in the morning. Sabine groaned and closed her eyes exasperatedly. She desperately needed sleep.
Reluctantly, she carried her legs off the bed, one foot after another, and hoisted herself off her bed with great effort. Her limbs felt like jello as she made her way to the kitchen. Somewhere in her drawers she had the remedy for whatever ailment she was suddenly facing.
Sabine flung open the lower cupboards and dug through the stacks of books and binders looking for the specific one that had a cure for every ailment known to man and witch.
"Thank whatever God exists!" Sabine cheered happily, sliding a thick book out from the depth of the cupboard. She rose to her feet and placed the book on the counter, carefully wiping away the layer of dust that had settled the ends of the cover.
Quickly, Sabine skimmed through the table of contents looking for what sections closely matched her symptoms. What she didn't want was to try out a concoction thinking it was for a mild flu and waking up with an octopus limb protruding from her lower abdomen.
Sabine ran her finger along the page, fed up with looking she closed her eyes and let her mind do the work. She lifted her finger off of the worn pages of the book and waited as a gentle breeze flipped through the pages for her. Sabine's hand plopped down a moment later, indicating that she had reached the most accurate page. Sabine opened her eyes and tentatively glanced down at the pages.
The scariest part about this power and the book was that her subconscious mind was controlling her. For all she knew she could have been dying and her powers had stopped on a page that offered her the simple solution of waiting out the inevitable.
Death.
The almighty soul collector.
The dissolver of life and hope.
To her satisfaction, the page instead said, "A Cure For The Common Flu". Sabine's joy soon faded as she looked at the slightly slanted, unique curves of her Mother's handwriting. It became clear why she had hidden the book from sight years ago. The memories were fresh - too fresh.
