AN: After completing one assignment just under the word count for this entire fic, going on work placement for four weeks, and studying for exams, I have finally managed to get this story updated! This chapter would not be possible without Dissecting Pomegranates, her continued advice, ping-pong sessions, general support and rant control ;) has been incredible. I serious cannot thank her enough!
Another shout-out also goes to NCD :) for her always incredible support; hopefully this chapter has been worth the wait.
There is one particular scene which may be a little confronting for you to read, thought I'd warn you just in case.
All errors are mine.
Chapter 8
Dawn of the Devil
The ceremonial ring of the school bell was nothing out of the ordinary for Cackle's Academy residents, but its unusually early chime had awoken the students and staff a little unexpectedly.
Davina yawned as she exited her room and walked to Imogen's, giving the door a customary good morning knock and waiting for a reply. When the door opened Imogen was already dressed in her summer sports attire and, judging from the bags under her eyes, needed a good hour or more of sleep. Davina had to admit that she wished she had it as well, though, usually she sprang back from festival celebrations and school events with a new found invigoration. She didn't feel it this time.
"Morning, Davina, did you ring the bell?"
"No," she replied, shaking her head. "Did you?"
"No."
"It must have been Amelia or Constance then."
"But why would they ring it? It's only…" Imogen began, stealing a glance at her wrist watch. "Eight o'clock. I'm positive that Amelia said that no one was supposed to be up until midday."
"Oh well, I suppose we just have to go and see." The two teachers walked through the hallways and towards the staffroom. They opened the door and entered, expecting to find Amelia sipping at a cup of tea while Constance shifted through the morning mail. But it was vacant…empty. Imogen broke away and walked to the Headmistresses office before knocking and forcing her way in. Again it was bare.
"Where are they?"
"Perhaps the assembly," Davina offered, leading her fellow colleague through the great halls threshold where Ethel Hallow and Drusilla Paddock were already sitting in anticipation. But there was no sign of Constance or Amelia anywhere, and the further through the school they looked, the more worried they became. They had checked the potion laboratory, dungeons, outer grounds, library and the kitchens where Mrs Tapioca was still vacant - she and Frank due back at the school by dinner time that day - but they came up dry. There was only one other place they could be, in their rooms.
Imposing on a colleague's room was something neither of them liked to do, mostly because they had created their own safe havens and knew how it felt to have their privacy invaded. The other reason being that Constance had to be one of the most private people in the world and even asking the wrong question earned a harsh reprimand. What would breaking into her room make her do?
But, they had to check, it was their last option.
Davina decided to take charge of inspecting Miss Cackle's while Imogen had the difficult task of contending with Miss Hardbroom's. She stood outside the door, a lump forming at the base of her throat. What if the infamous potion mistress was behind the door sleeping soundly and she disturbed her? What would Imogen do then? How would she explain herself?
'Just do it' her head told her and she shook it to gain focus before swallowing the saliva in her mouth and forcing her fist to knock against the wooden door. The first knock was tentative, the second a little more confident, and the third made the door open with a creak.
"Constance?" She called through the break before placing a hand against the handle and pushing it the rest of the way open. "Anyone in here?" she asked, stepping towards the other side of the bed, the sweet scent of healing potion pervading her senses. She saw the shattered bottle, the green liquid that had almost dried against the varnished wood, and then what she thought was blood.
Bang!
The door slammed, making Imogen physically jump and her heart palpitate. She heard a footstep approaching from behind. Saw a pair of harsh eyes behind thick glasses and, before she knew it, everything went dark.
A single water droplet slid gracefully down the stem of its chosen green leaf, silently gliding its way towards earth, pulled by gravity and onto the unsuspecting forehead of Enid Nightshade. The cool sphere landed, startling the young girl from her world of unplanned dreams and into the waking one once more. She couldn't remember a lot, though was certain that the sky had been dark the last time she saw it. Now it was grey, the sun hidden by a sheet of cloud.
She lay, blinking her eyes several times to make them focus. She was confused, dazed and muggy, her cloak still damp from the previous nights downpour. She sat up, trying to remember the nights prior events when a shooting pain hit her skull from behind, making her reach her right hand around to feel the newly forming lump. 'I must have slipped' she reasoned, before looking to her right and left for any signs of life.
A black crow flew across the still looming sky, its call sounding throughout the woods. She watched it pass before getting to her feet and seeing her malachite necklace on the moist ground. Picking it up she wiped dirt and mud from its face before walking to her right, where she was sure the festival would have been. Expecting to find a search party or, at the very least, someone, was a false and dreamless hope. It quickly became apparent that there was definitely no one at their bonfire site.
The fire had been out, by the rain or some other force, the water and refreshments provided were scattered on the ground where the odd bird or two were having a soggy breakfast feast and their paper decorations had dissolved into nothing more than coloured clumps of mush.
"Hello!" She called, hoping for a reply but receiving none. Inspecting the haphazardly thrown cups and puddles of murky water, she turned on her heel and found where they had stored their brooms. She didn't see her own at first and rolled her eyes at the possibility of having to walk through the woods to the castle on foot. Until she heard something fall.
"What is wrong with you?" She asked with frustration, bending down to pick up the beautiful green gem necklace, only to feel something else under the layer of leaves. Scraping them away she saw her broom and a smile spread wide on her face. "Thank you," she whispered to whoever had been watching over her. "Now let's get back to our cold hard bed at Cackles."
Davina stood in Amelia's room and although the two had been friends for years, it still felt like an invasion of privacy. Amelia's room was simple, adorned with photos of both the present and the past, one particularly nice one was taken the day Gabrielle finished her practical experience at the academy. All of the staff we're there, including Constance; who even proved she could smile, if only for a little while.
But the one person that she was desperate to find wasn't there. With a disappointed, and somewhat concerned sigh, she closed the door behind her and heard a loud thud coming from Constance's room.
"Imogen?" She asked cautiously, taking a step closer to the potion mistresses' chambers when the door suddenly swung open and Imogen fell unconscious into the hallway, face first.
"Miss Drill!" she gasped.
"You fool's!" A familiar voice barked, stopping the chanting mistress in her tracks. "Can't you do anything right?!"
"Sorry Agatha," Bindweed grovelled, "but you did say throw her out."
Davina stepped forwards, to try and reach her friend when another body flew through the door and into the opposing wall with a bang.
Davina didn't know what to do. She felt numb from head to toe, and thousands of terrible possibilities flowed into her subconscious. What have they done to Amelia and Constance? Were they still alive? If not, then how did they manage to defeat the all powerful potion teacher? And, if so, where we're they hidden?
"I meant throw her out of the school!" Agatha yelled before stepping into the corridor as the two bumbling fools lifted the PE mistress by her arms and slung her over their shoulders. "GO!"
"But are you sure this is a good idea, Agatha?" Coldstone dared to disagree. "What if she gets help?"
"She's a non witch, who the hell would believe anything she says? Get her out of my sight, my school is not a place for non-witch trash!"
"Not so fast!" Davina announced, finally willing her constricted throat to release some semblance of sound that wasn't a horrified scream. Agatha laughed before stepping toward the terrified chanting teacher.
"Well, well, well, look who it is ladies. Miss Bat wants to save the day." Davina didn't listen to her taunts and instead began muttering a spell under her breath which caused Agatha to chuckle again, an unusual reaction for any being to have when faced with magic. Though when Davina thrust her hands forwards, expecting her magic to hit the witch and freeze her where she stood…nothing happened.
She tried again… and again… and again. But the familiar electrifying feeling of her magic coursing through her veins was gone, completely gone. It explained her unusual tiredness and lack of vigour. Festivals only empowered a witch through magic and without it she had nothing to defend herself with. No Constance, no Amelia, no Imogen, and now she had no magic.
"Looks like it's just not your day, Miss Bat."
"What have you done to my magic? Where are Constance and Amelia? What are you doing here?"
"All will be revealed in good time my dear," Agatha taunted, stepping closer to the nervous and shaking chanting teacher, who tried to put on a brave face though failed miserably as it shook and fell to the floor with just one of Agatha's death stares. "Throw that pathetic human to the hounds and secure the schools perimeter, no one gets in or out, understood?"
"Yes Agatha," the two replied before scuttling through the halls as the bell sounded again. "If I was you, Bat," she spat while casting a binding spell on both of the witches useless hands. "I'd do what I was told."
Mildred entered the great hall to the cacophony of confused voices that echoed from one corner of the room to the other. They knew that it was unlike Miss Cackle to tell the girls one thing and then change her mind so suddenly, at least without good reason.
"Do you see Enid anywhere?" Millie asked and Maud shook her head.
"No, I haven't seen her all morning; you don't think she's with Hardbroom do you?"
"I'm not sure, but I don't like it, something feels a little off."
"What do you mean?"
"Can't you feel it? Something just doesn't feel right."
"You're telling us," Fenny spoke, making them turn to see the two confident role-models looking a little worse for wear themselves. Even Mildred had to admit that the festival had accomplished what the teachers wanted it to; everyone was too tired to fight one another now.
"Where are Cackle and the others?" Mildred inquired, earning a shoulder shrug from Gris.
"No idea," she admitted when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Her friend's sudden distant gaze caught Fenny's attention immediately.
"Gris? What is it?"
"I just saw something." She walked towards the door, wondering whether her lack of sleep was the reason she saw two witches walking through the corridors who didn't look anything like her teachers. But, before she and the small congregation following her could exit, the doors slammed shut with a bang.
Millie pushed forwards to try and pry the wood open but it was useless, the magical seal was too strong. The other doors to their left and right did the same, making all of the girls quieten. Sybil's sobs the only sound breaking the room's silence.
"Good morning everyone," a horrifying voice announced before they appeared through a previously unknown trap door in the stage and Mildred's jaw hung slack. Agatha's yellow teeth beamed into a grin at the girls' expressions, and especially the hatred written inside Mildred Hubble's eyes.
"What have you done with Miss Cackle?" She demanded.
"And Miss Hardbroom!" Maud backed.
"Nothing that concerns you!" Agatha snapped. "All of your teachers have decided to take a much needed break from the academy and they have put me in charge."
"No one is believing that rubbish!"
"All you need to know is that if you really want to see them again, safe and sound, then you will do whatever I say, when I say it!" Mildred was about to open her mouth when Agatha interrupted again. "And if you don't do that, or you try and be like little Mildred Hubble here and get into trouble by breaking my rules…well, let's just say your teachers aren't the only adults you'll never see again."
The air was thick with tension, humidity, and the stench of century old dust. Amelia had awoken just moments ago from a previously induced slumber to find herself in some unknown part of Castle Overblow. She felt a warm breeze blow from her left and noticed gaping holes and missing floorboards that allowed the light of day to come beaming through.
Broken wooden chairs and desks were hidden under sheets of dust covered cloth and were entangled by hundreds of accurately woven spider-webs that glistened in the light and danced with the breeze. She had been certain that she knew every part of the castles caverns and passages, spending hours at a time exploring when she spent the odd weekend with her Great Granny Cackle as a young girl. But, either time had eroded her memories of this particular location, or she had never been here before.
Water dripped from the ceiling on the floor in a puddle on the opposite wall, obviously the remnants of the previous night's wild and unpredictable storm, when something caught her attention. Carefully she got to her feet and picked up a single piece of wood, half of it had been badly burnt beyond recognition, but the front four letters of the six letter word were at least partly visible.
'Potion' Amelia deciphered before remembering her Great Granny telling her not to venture to the far tower which had been terribly burnt in a potion laboratory accident. The entire wing, which housed a second set of dormitories, a sick bay, two classrooms, and the potion laboratory, had been gutted by fire and was condemned for an unforeseeable future. With the schools' capacity cut in half it became impossible to pay for the repairs. She was surprised that, although the far wall to her left was basically missing, the room was still intact.
She dropped the wood when she heard a groan and saw Constance finally coming around. The deputy forced herself to sit up making Amelia hasten to her side. "Constance, you shouldn't push yourself." Constance persisted regardless and managed to sit and lean her back against the wall. She looked to her right and then to her left.
"Where are we?" She asked, removing a handkerchief from her sleeve and placing it to the cut on her forehead.
"One of the unused wings of the school." Silence overcame the two as the floorboards creaked and the wind whistled past the castle's outer walls. "Constance…I'm-"
"Don't apologise," she interrupted, "you didn't know this would happen."
"No, but I shouldn't have dismissed your concerns." Amelia's knees ached which made her adjust her position.
"It was Broomhead," Constance spoke softly. "She must be up to something and I know it won't be good."
"But…I thought it was Agatha." Constance's head snapped to her left.
"What?"
"Agatha, she approached me in my chamber, told me that it was time for the school to have a real headmistress. Then she attacked…What is Broomhead doing here?" Realisation entered Amelia's eyes and they widened with surprise. "You don't think-"
"That they are working together? It wouldn't surprise me with Agatha but Mistress Broomhead has always been a very independent and self-reliant witch. She wouldn't work with someone else willingly unless it was for a specific purpose."
"Nice to see you haven't forgotten me, Constance." The voice entered their ears before the terrifying mistress materialised. She stood straight as a rod and wore her trademark, unreadable, expression.
"Nice of you to finally join us in the waking world," she greeted, earning an involuntary flinch from her protégé. "Come now, Constance. Do you honestly think that I would harm someone unable to defend themselves? I'm not one for a quick and painless release...you of all people should know that."
"What do you want with us?" Miss Cackle demanded, standing to her feet to try and give herself more authority over the unwanted intruder. "What are you and Agatha planning?" Hecketty smirked before waving her hand to her left; creating a barrier that pushed Amelia aside, her eyes trained on Constance and Constance alone.
Amelia noticed her deputy's eyes harden and her hands clench. The mistress of deceit enjoying the power she had to turn even the brightest of her pupils into frightened fools. The submissive streak in Constance's eyes, no matter how hard she tried to hide it, was clear for her to see. It told her exactly what she wanted it to; it told her that she was supreme.
"Though, personally, I would never let myself get into such a defenceless state in the first place. I must say, Constance, I am bitterly disappointed in you; failing to protect yourself as well as your students…pity."
Constance inhaled deeply, drawing strength from an unknown source. "If a single student comes to any harm, I'll..."
Hecketty raised a quizzical eyebrow and resisted the temptation to laugh; the notion of such a lost and empty threat was nothing to her prowess and skill. "You'll what Constance? Please do tell?" She had no response, partly because her vision was beginning to blur from the mixture of her ever persistent concussion, and, more importantly, because her fight or flight instincts started duelling one another like two swordsman over a distressed damsel.
She tried to push herself up, earning a concerned expression from Amelia's eyes when she found nothing but weakness flowing through her limbs.
"Pathetic," Hecketty spat before kneeling at her side and casting a simple immobilisation spell that kept her arms, legs and torso where it lay. She raised a single index finger and brushed it against Constance's cheek. The deputy closed her eyes tightly, trying to block out the memories that came flooding back from the carefully locked and hidden compartments of her memories, like bats trying desperately to escape the harsh reality of sunlight.
She couldn't face the truth of the world she had hidden for so many years, couldn't return to the darkest days of her short history.
"Get away from her!" Amelia commanded, earning her a narrowed glare from the stronger witch. It would have been so easy for her to wipe the infernal woman from the room with the sweep of her hand, but her deal with her almost blind sister prevented it. She needed to play her cards right.
Constance opened her eyes again and saw nothing but pure rage written in her tutor's features. She could read her face like a book.
"Get away from my deputy!"
"Amelia-" she urged, choking out the name as carefully as she could to try and stop her from saying something foolish.
"I don't think I need to remind you, Miss Cackle, that before she was your deputy she was my student; and she was as much of a failure then as she is now, hiding behind a-"
"I don't hide behind anyone," Constance interrupted, making her tutors head snapping back to meet her more determined eyes. She had no idea where this strength had suddenly come from but knew that if Hecketty wanted to take out her frustrations on one of them Constance preferred it to be her, no one else needed to suffer for her past mistakes, for her past decisions, for her history with this vile creature.
"It was you who used to hide behind me. Who used to use me as some kind of trophy to be paraded about from one person to the next, to try and hide the darkness of your heart and make you look almost capable of human emotion! Everyone knew Hecketty Broomhead as the Head of Witch Training College, the producer of fine witches for the next century," she paused, noting the quiet and persistent gaze Amelia cast her way. "As someone who showed pity to an orphan girl who had no family, no one... But you and I knew the truth." She kept her gaze steady and saw the swirling vortex of frustration building within her tutor-from-hells eyes. "God gave you one face and you made yourself another."
"And haven't you done the same, hmm?" Hecketty replied, standing to her feet and giving Constance a momentary reprieve, though still making her feel small, insignificant and weak. "How much does your Headmistress really know about you?"
"Enough to know that she's nothing like you!" Amelia snapped, forcing herself forwards and shooting her spell casting fingers the mistresses way… but nothing happened. She tried a second time but all her frantic hand motions did was fan the demonic witch with a breeze.
"Is that all you have?" Her tongue clicked in disappointment. "I expected better from the esteemed headmistress of Cackle's Academy." A dark and somewhat joyful smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. "Maybe I should show you what real power is." Her left hand extended suddenly towards Constance and her fingers closed the air making the deputy's throat constrict. She bent her elbow and rose her hand to the sky, lifting the defenceless potion mistress into the air like a ragdoll, dangling from an invisible noose attached to the rafters above.
Amelia watched on in horror as Hecketty seemed lost in a trance, her eyes transfixed on the pain of her target. Constance's feet were only inches from the floor but it was enough to induce panic. She could see it inside Constance's now wide eyes. She was utterly powerless to counter the spell and her vision began to water and blur as the sound of blood pounding in her ears dulled all other senses. Her lungs heaved, fighting for a single full breath which never came, the vital lifeline of oxygen cut abruptly short. She could hear her own heart slowing down; its repetitive beat now louder and louder as it struggled to continue its only purpose, to preserve her life.
"Stop!" Amelia yelled in a feeble attempt to stop her own deputy's death. She needed to do something, to do anything and force her frozen and petrified limbs to take action. She didn't have her magic, didn't have her strength, but she did have determination and that had to be better than nothing.
She raced forwards and firmly grabbed the powerful witch by the arm, instantly earning her attention. Hecketty's furious eyes bore into Amelia's softer ones before she flung the innocent headmistress against the back wall where she landed with a thud.
"Stop… this!" she yelled from her now seated position, noticing the way that Constance's eyes had started to close. "You've made your point, Wilhelmina!"
Broomhead's arm dropped and Constance landed with an unforgiving bang. Her hands clutched around her throat instantly while she coughed and wheezed air back to its rightful place, her heart rate slowly returning to its normal tempo and dizzying vision making the room spin.
Amelia remained still, her hands on the floor as she stared up at the menacing woman, whose devilish smile sent shivers up her throbbing spine.
"This is only the beginning." She turned on her heel and eyed an exhausted Constance who managed enough strength to look her in the eye. Then the school bell rang; a seemingly innocent and simple sound. Broomhead's smirk diminished and she looked disappointed at the rude interruption.
"I best not be late for Assembly," she paused. "I'm sure your students will be more than pleased to see a powerful and disciplined witch in charge for once."
Amelia would have retorted if the circumstances had been different. The idea of Broomhead leaving the two of them brought a wave of relief to her fuddled mind. But it also made her worry for her students and other staff, if anything happened to them she wouldn't forgive herself.
"But don't worry," she continued, standing straight as a pole and lifting her head high. "I'll be back to see you soon, Constance… parting is such sweet sorrow," she laughed before finally disappearing again from sight.
