Disclaimer: I own nada but the plot, and a very battered copy of Geothe's 'Faust'.
Note: Hello there! It's such a long time since I was treading the Worst Witch boards, let me tell you! This idea came to me almost fully formed. A few tweaks, a bit of research and tada! Inferno was born. Just a couple of pointers before I begin:
1. This takes place after the end of the third series, during Mildred's fourth (and in my timeline, final) year. (I know there is an ongoing debate over whether there are four or five years...) It continues on from the third series, so Mildred is head-girl and Jadu is deputy.
2. I have used some themes from Goethe's 'Faust' and Dante's 'Inferno', both are excellent pieces of classical literature should you wish to read them, but this fic is perfectly understandable without having done so.
3. I am using Miss Bat, not Miss Crotchet. Her reappearance will be explained fully in due course.
Inferno
One
It was obviously a dream, thought Mildred. She was positive that she had never seen this place before in her waking life; the eerie gloom of the torch-lit cave with black stone walls was something that her overactive imagination could think up only in slumber. She moved forwards, unable to stop herself, the involuntary motion serving only to confirm her notion of a dream. Someone was speaking in a terrible voice, frightening and yet, at the same time, mesmerising, almost charismatic. It drew Mildred onwards, suddenly anxious to hear what was being said.
...and in return, I receive a soul. Do we have an agreement?
Of course my Lord.
Mildred squinted through her dismal surroundings to try and find the owners of the voices. The second tones had sounded familiar.
You do realise of course, that there must be an assurance to seal the agreement.
I do my Lord.
Mildred continued to move forwards, towards the source of the sound. She could see shapes materialising in the flickering firelight in front of her. They were indistinct, swathed in black.
A single drop of blood, that's all it will take. Perfectly harmless, my dear.
Mildred saw the flash of a silver blade, and she knew in her churning stomach what was coming next. The shapes had suddenly become clearer, and she could see that one figure was seated in an ornate throne, carved out of the same black rock as the cavern walls. Mildred peered at the one nearest to her, and reached out a hand to touch the stone before recoiling immediately. The wall was molten to the touch, scorching hot, and it melted into grotesque patterns and shapes beneath her fingers, running down the walls and pooling at her feet.
The seated figure facing her, cloaked completely in black, handed the knife to the other, also cloaked. This one was kneeling before the throne, head bowed and with its back to Mildred. She tried to close her eyes but she was unable, and she watched in silent horror as the kneeling figure cut a sharp nick in its left wrist, allowing ruby blood to well and fall to the floor. It burst into flame as it hit the ground, and for the briefest of moments, Mildred caught a glimpse of bright red eyes within the folds of the hood. She knew in a flash of icy terror what she had just seen. The darkness, the flames, the cryptic words... The scarlet eyes of the seated figure...Mildred could not withhold a scream any longer, although she knew that alerting the figures to her presence was the last thing that she should do. Her mouth was screaming but her mind was frantically reassuring her that everything was alright, that it was only a dream.
On hearing the sound, the two figures twisted towards her immediately. Mildred tried to turn, tried to run away, but she was rooted to the spot, as she so often was in nightmares. The horror, she then realised, was not over yet. The kneeling figure stood and began to move towards her, the hood falling away to reveal a terrible face.
Miss Cackle's eyes glowed a pulsing ruby as her face twisted into a snarl of pure evil...
Mildred Hubble...
And then suddenly there was a different voice, one that was not coming from her head-mistress's mouth, but one that was familiar none-the-less.
"Mildred Hubble!"
Mildred's eyes shot open and she sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for breath and feeling cold sweat pouring down her back and face. She took in her surroundings – bright, comforting moonlight from the open window, the familiar grey stone walls of her bedroom at Cackle's Academy and the concerned faces surrounding her.
"Oh Millie, I thought you'd never snap out of it!" Maud threw her arms around her friend and squeezed her tightly, despite the fact that her nightshirt was soaked with perspiration. Mildred took in the other occupants of the room over the top of her best friend's head. Enid and Jadu stood in one corner, their arms around each other, both mute with fear.
"You've been screaming almost non-stop for the last ten minutes." At the foot of her bed, Ruby's eyes were wide. "We couldn't wake you up. We had to get Miss Hardbroom... She's just gone to get you a potion; you woke up when she shouted at you."
"I knew the voice was familiar," Mildred muttered as Maud released her limpet-hold.
"Seriously Mil," Jadu whispered, "what were you dreaming about? You said something about..."
Before Jadu could finish, she was interrupted by another voice outside the door.
"Girls, for the last time, move along before I put you all in detention for the next month! There's nothing to see here!"
Mildred groaned. The head-girl having a hysterical nightmare was certainly going to be the main attraction of the night for the first and second years. They were only two months into the new year and already she was proving herself to be the most 'entertaining' head-girl that Cackle's had ever seen.
Mildred's bedroom door was flung open with some vehemence and Miss Hardbroom strode in.
"How are you, Mildred?" she asked through gritted teeth, unable to stop genuine concern just creeping through her hastily erected mask of exasperation and anger.
"I... I'm not sure." Mildred could not shake off the last vestiges of fear that had manifested themselves during her nightmare. "I mean, it was only a dream, wasn't it?"
Miss Hardbroom's lips pressed together in a thin line. She held out a small bottle.
"Drink this. It is a simple sedative, just to calm you down before you have a heart attack. The school has an infamous enough reputation as it is, we don't need a pupil dying of fright as well."
Mildred gulped down the potion in one. It tasted of vanilla, so sweet it was almost painful as it slipped down her throat. Immediately she felt herself calming, but she was still afraid by the lack of conformation from her form-mistress.
"It was just a dream, wasn't it Miss?"
"Hmmm." Miss Hardbroom ignored the question momentarily, staring out of the window as if lost in thought. "Let us hope so." She turned to the others in the room.
"I am sure Mildred will be perfectly alright now, if you would all like to return to your rooms."
The tone was non-negotiable: it was an order, not a suggestion. Mildred gave a wan smile to to her friends as they filed out of the room, each looking at her with a mixture of relief and uneasiness. Miss Hardbroom remained motionless, her attention now returned to the window.
"Miss..." Mildred began, but she was interrupted.
"Mildred, what happened in your nightmare? What did you see?"
The brusqueness of the question caught Mildred off guard, but it was not entirely unexpected. The deputy head was nothing if not to-the-point.
"It was Miss Cackle," she said eventually. "I saw her making... I saw her seal a pact.... I think she was... selling her soul..."
Miss Hardbroom's grip on the windowsill tightened perceptibly as Mildred whispered the final words.
"I do not think it was Miss Cackle that you saw, Mildred. I believe it was her sister."
"Agatha? Well, she does seem more like the type... But Miss Hardbroom, it was only a dream, wasn't it?"
Mildred was becoming more and more nervous by the second, especially when her teacher would not turn to face her.
"Mildred, you are a witch with a special talent; one of creating living works of art. There is magic in your very imagination, Mildred, something that is rare even for a witch. Dreams are the product of the unconscious imagination. Your dreams, Mildred, they are more vivid than they used to be, are they not?"
"Well yes, I suppose, over the past few months..." It was true. Ever since she had first discovered her talent, Mildred had found her dreams becoming more and more lifelike: the good ones even better, and the nightmares even more terrifying. She could not erase the image of her head-mistress's glowing eyes from her mind, even if she knew in hindsight that the figure was not really Miss Cackle, but her twin.
"Mildred, what I am trying to say, and failing to do so in a coherent manner, is that your imagination – whether waking or asleep – is in tune with magical occurrences in our world. And your dreams... well, there may just be elements of truth in them. The details are your own, the product of your own fancy, but the crux..."
Mildred's breath caught in her throat.
"So Agatha... She really has sold her soul?"
"I would think it highly likely, yes."
"What... what does that mean?"
"It means, Mildred, that she has ultimate power. The Witches' Guild refuses to acknowledge the existence of such Faustian pacts, to them the idea of selling one's soul is so repulsive, so unthinkable that they believe it simply cannot happen; they think it belongs in the world of literature, the product of the fevered imaginations of non-magicians. They do not believe that anyone would actually go through with such a terrible thing. But Agatha is not just anyone. If she has the services of the Devil under her command, then she completely overrides the Witches' Code, since there is no provision in it for such an occasion: all our laws and decrees will mean nothing to her. They will have no effect."
Miss Hardbroom looked down at the windowsill, and finally at her stricken pupil.
"It means we do not stand a chance when she decides to attack."
Mildred could hear her heart pounding in her ears.
"Is she going to attack?"
"That, I believe, is inevitable. The true question is when."
Mildred's voice was barely above a breath as she spoke again.
"When is she going to attack?"
Before Miss Hardbroom could reply, a terrible noise filled the air. It was the mewling of every cat and kitten in the school. Tabby jumped up onto the foot of Mildred's bed and crouched over her legs, back arched, hissing at the window where Miss Hardbroom stood, as still as stone. There was a scrabbling at the door, a feline growl and suddenly a black shape rushed in with a yowl, Morgana scrambling up her petrified owner's back to her shoulder, claws clicking the black silk of her dressing gown.
"And thus battle begins," Miss Hardbroom murmured, so nearly inaudible that Mildred was sure it had not been meant for her to hear. "The most loyal ally a witch has will spring to her immediate aid, knowing just how futile the gesture is." She reached up and stroked Morgana between the ears, her attention fully focussed on the changing light outside the window.
Mildred picked up Tabby and got out of bed, her legs shaking as she moved over to stand beside Miss Hardbroom. As she stared at the scene in front of her through the empty windowpane, she could see other pupils poking their heads out of the windows beneath her, and hear the murmurs of horrified awe and the frantic footsteps racing around the castle.
It was ice, as far as the eye could see, a vast expanse of ice stretching into utter and complete darkness. Agatha was standing in the centre, an evil smile on her face. Any traces of similarity to her sister had been blown away, there was now no confusion between the two.
"Come on Amelia," she called; her voice, though calm and musical almost, bellowed in the ears of girls and teachers alike. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."
Mildred turned to Miss Hardbroom, and on seeing the fear in her teacher's face, she knew that there was no hope.
" To answer your question, Mildred, I believe 'right now' would be an appropriate response..."
Note2: Credit for the setting for Millie's nightmare goes to my mum, who, when she was ill with a fever of over 40 degrees, had a hallucination of a room with red hot melting walls...
What did you think? There's plenty more mystery and intrigue to come!