Smart Woman (in a Real Short Skirt); The Hammer of Witches


Disclaimer: In my dreams Reid is mine, then my alarm goes off. If you think I own anything dream on...


Prologue
Eden, Maryland

An escalator. To heaven. She had always thought the premise to be a figment of Saturday morning cartoons, but here she was on the escalator to heaven; her earthly vessel on the ground, her soul in the sky.

The Pearly Gates were blinding, but beautiful. Saint Peter was before her and at his feet she fell to her knees.

"What is your name, my child?" he asked her kindly, like a grandfather.

"Magdalene." She whispered. "Magdalene Burgess." Suddenly everything changed. Thunder rolled, the world turned angry – red, rocky, with a general feeling of violence and ill will.

"YOU!" Saint Peter roared. "Damned! Damned for all time!" His voice changed, there before her now, with a wild look in his eyes was the head priest and dean of her parochial school, the one who had kicked her out.

"Hell, hell I tell you. You, servant of Satan, shall be joining him!"

"You're going to hell!" Now he mother's voice, from the same meeting as Father Philippe's proclamations of damnation.

"Oh God!" Magdalene cried pulling herself into a ball and praying, sobbing, shuttering she tried to block out her mother's voice.

"God? He doesn't love you. I don't love you. Nobody loves you!"

"Sweet Jesus save me! I repent!"

Magdalene sat bolt upright in her bed, she was soaked with sweat and tears and her breath was labored. It was a dream, just a dream. Nightmare. She took a deep breath and got out of bed.

"Forgive me father for I have sinned…" Magdalene stood in her darkened living room staring up at the stained glass God before her. She needed peace of mind. After confessing she prayed the rosary in traditional Latin. Yet she could still not sleep, closing her eyes gave her chills. Should she call someone – who would she call? It would kill her father, who to the day still blamed himself for her expulsion. Her brother? Gabe wouldn't understand in the slightest, he had no daemons; he still had his mother… Gideon? The only one she could truly talk to in her youth, her second earthly father, friend, and mentor. She had ran to him so many times before. No this was her burden to handle. She squared her shoulders and returned to bed.

Sleep didn't follow, she staid awake to see the fingers of light creep into her bedroom falling on her carpet in brilliant blues, purples, reds, and golds thanks to her stain glass windows. Her phone rang, there was no sleeping now.