Lana Mia pov 15-years-old

I remember that day all too yell, the doors being busted down, the yells as they tore through the house looking for us, and the taste of blood and herbs that ran down my throat as I drank the potion my Grandmother, a Romanian Gypsy, gave to me to make me unable to bear children. We hid in the basement of our home, knowing sooner or later, soldiers of Gilead will come here and take me and kill my Grandmother for her religion and profession.

I coughed after I finished swallowing the potion, "Now, do you remember that curse my child?" Grandmother asked me, desperation lacing her accented voice as loud footsteps approached the door.

"Take an item, whisper the demon's name into it, then give the item back to the wrongdoer." I answered, remembering that horrific spell my Grandmother cast on my Mother's murderer when the charges were dropped against him. Oh how he paid the price for all eternity.

Grandmother nodded, "This is your mission, drag Gilead into hell where it belongs." smiling proudly yet sadly as she stared at me, "Good." she ran her aged fingers through my hair affectionately, "I will always love you. Be strong, be brave, and be smart. We will meet again, I promise." she said as she took a vial from her robes and slowly drank the substance that will give her a peaceful death.

I held my tears back for her sake before I hugged her with all my might as she returned it in full, her hand stroking my hair and softly singing that lullaby I have grown up hearing. When her hand went slack, I lowered her body to rest and allowed the tears to flow freely down my cheeks as the door was torn off the hinges. My face was passive as I cried, my soul feeling empty with the loss of my last family member as the soldiers picked me up and carried me from her body.

Lana Mia pov 17-years-old

After Gilead took over, doctors found out that I was infertile and still a virgin, so that saved me from becoming a Handmaid thankfully, but I would still remain a slave to the household I would be working in, a Martha to a Commander and his Wife. I don't care to tell you their names, because they are not human in my eyes...none of them are.

I forgot to tell you who I am. My name is Lana Mia Ganush, I am of Romanian descent, my Mother died when I was three-years-old, and I was raised by my Grandmother who was a healer and a witch. I know what you're thinking, did she have a cauldron? Fuck no! But she did have this brutal curse that can literally drag a person to hell. I've seen her enact this a few times on rapists, murders and all the monsters in this world. Best part, she always got away with it. What a Bad Ass Babayaga.

I myself have cast this curse on certain people who I deem too foul to be human, but I only cast it at birthing ceremonies and other gatherings I hardly give a fuck about. The reason why I do this at gatherings is because it is so much easier to not be seen among the many Marthas. And one of the advantages of being a Martha, they never suspect you and they tend to ignore you. As long as I follow my set of rules, and do it one-three times, I'm safe, and free to drag these bitches to hell as I please.

Here I was, at a birthing ceremony, serving food and drinks to those smirking bastards and delusional cunts who believe themselves to be holy and blessed. With practiced ease, I whispered my curse into a drink intended for my target. Putting on a mask of indifference and stoicism, I carried the cursed drink to a Wife named Kelly Stravers, a cruel bitch who shackled her Handmaid to a stove all night when she didn't conceive like she was supposed to. How my heart bled for that Handmaid, but satisfaction instantly came when Kelly took the drink without so much as a thank you. I walked away to continue my duty, smirking inwardly, 'Enjoy your last three days bitch.'

Over the passed three days, I listened to the rumors of my victims going mad from the psychological torment my curse cast upon them. Oh the joy I felt when I witnessed their demise on the final day, being chased by shadows others cannot see up until that very moment. I was at an outdoor marketplace with my shopping partner when I saw one of my victims, an Aunt, seeing something coming towards her and scrambling to get away from it. Everyone who saw this thought she was insane as she started screaming, praying pathetically as though it could save her. I watched in silent satisfaction as the Aunt fell down a small set of stairs and landed on her back. Just when she was about to get up, the ground cracked beneath her, shocking the witnesses when they saw something glowing red in between the cracks. Finally, that moment came when hands burst out of the cracks and viciously grabbed hold of the Aunt by her limbs neck and hair as the ground opens beneath her as she screamed and cried at the fires of hell licking at her.

"Help meeee!" she screamed as she was dragged further into the pit, begging to be spared as she clawed her hands on the stone steps, breaking off her finger nails and making them bleed as she futilely fought to stay on the surface. "Help me! Please! AHHHHHHHH!" she shrieked, her face became desiccated and her eyes sunken into her sockets as she was pulled further down into hell, the cracks closing around her hand that still reached for someone to save her until it disappeared, the ground setting itself back to the way it was before.

I let out a shuddering breath, bowing my head as I turned away, making it look like I was terrified, but on the inside, this was an ecstasy I can never deny myself as the panicked witnesses scattered to return back to their homes before the demon took them too. In my minds eye, I can see that Wife in the same predicament as well, clawing and begging to be saved from the devil taking them to hell. How it never gets old, especially when it is happening to Gilead's authority and oppressors.

I smirked at the terror that set on the Guardians and some of the Wives' faces at what they had just seen happen before their very eyes. I made my way home, feeling the urge to skip like a little girl as I hummed quietly to myself, 'The Lamia is ever so pleased by the souls I give to him. Yes he is.' I thought to myself, keeping my head bowed to hide the bloodthirsty grin that splayed over my face, anticipating the fall of my next victim.

The End