Chapter 38: Trapped in A Train With Witches, Part 1
It had been ridiculously easy to evacuate the other passengers. All Ozzy and Crystal had to do was go to the conductor's cabin (which turned out to be an automated machine with no one managing it) and wait until they got close enough to the next station to give an announcement that one of the staff members had been contaminated with a possible zombie virus. The moment they got to the next station, all the passengers and staff ran out in panic. Ozzy blocked the doors so no one could get in; once the train left again, she gave a signal to the other stations to ignore their train due to its 'contamination'.
Next came preparing the train. Using Beatrice's teleportation powers, she and Audrey made sure to visit every compartment, every shop, every café, and every area in the train to install and hide radios. With Audrey's newfound powers and ear mikes that Ozzy gave to all of them, overhearing the witches would be easier once they showed up. As they did that, Gothy and Charles raided the spas and kitchens, gathered all the acidic products they could find and prepared a pot full of gelatinous, colorless, and odorless fluids.
"So, what is this for again?" Crystal asked after she casted a spell that cloned the pot's content and animated paintbrushes to cover every surface of the train with it.
"These child-murdering witches have claws instead of hands, with, you know, actual claws. Somehow they manage to hide their three-fingered hands in five-fingered gloves," Charles explained. "Anyway, when I studied their species, I figured out that their claws must have strong amounts of keratin in it."
"Which would explain why they're bald since keratin can also damage hair," Gothy joined in. "So, if they have permanently bald hair, their claws have high concentrations of keratin. And the best way to get rid of keratin is with acidic exposure."
"Which will damage their claws! Genius!" Crystal smirked.
The next part after the acidic coating was tricky. Due to the witches being toeless, Charles had explained that unless they wore high-heeled shoes or something, the witches couldn't walk naturally. Making the floors uneven would jeopardize their movements, so Beatrice suggested using spells that would make nearly all the floors bumpier than mini golf courts. In dead end areas like cabins, kitchens, and bathrooms, Charles and Ozzy coated the floors in a mixture of tar and caramel. (Thank God that Crystal knew spells for walking on sticky substances).
Finally came the hardest part: masquerading their presence.
"Either the witches sniff you out or they trace me out," Charles explained as they ate what they could for breakfast. They nearly spent the whole night booby trapping the train or loading up Elvis with more supplies.
"Clean kids smell of dog poop to them, but I don't think jumping in a dumpster will help," Gothy commented as she ate her scrambled eggs. "I mean, I never had a decent bath or shower until I left the Isle of the Lost. I didn't wash much because we were on the move, but even that didn't stop Leona Ernst from sniffing out that I came from the Isle."
"And if the Grand High Witch was able to track me because of my powers, what if she could do the same thing with Crystal, Audrey, and Beatrice?" Charles asked.
"Yeah, about that." Beatrice raised her hand. "There's a 90% chance GHW won't murder me if she finds out I'm here."
"I thought your folks hated her." Crystal frowned. "I mean, didn't your mom beat her on the head with a tripod when GHW tried to give you a cursed chocolate when you were two?"
"She did. GHW looked like a bleeding egg. But she permanently backed off when my godfather stopped by Macabretown for a visit." Beatrice shrugged. "He gave her a very good memo that I'm off-limits."
"What was the memo again?" Audrey asked.
"He killed 200 of GHW's followers, turned three-quarters of them into his 5-course Easter dinner, and turned the remaining quarters into beetles that he used as filling for beignets… and I ate all of the beignets."
Her statement was enough to make everyone except Crystal and Audrey spit out what they were eating or drinking. "You ate beignets full of witches-turned-beetles filling?" Gothy exclaimed.
"What?" Beatrice asked in defense. "It ain't cannibalism if you turn someone into another species. Besides, people eat bugs!"
"Dude, what is wrong with you?" Ozzy exclaimed. "In what universe is it OK for your godfather to give you bug versions of his victims?"
"My parents never saw a problem with it. Unless it's transformed into animal meat, human or ghost meat is out of the question. I mean, 'beetle' is literally in my dad's nice, so I'll eat anything with beetles from beetle beignets to cocoa beignets. And, you know, the occasional snake and spider stew. I mean, my godfather constantly visits the cannibal restaurants in Macabretown like Chez Lecter and Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Bakery. The owners are aware that he constantly spells the stuff he buys there before giving me anything." Beatrice shook her head. "Anyway, GHW is scared of Alastor, so I have a 90% chance of staying alive."
"And the 10%?" Audrey asked.
"Besides the fact that he's scary? My godfather might be one of the many evil incarnates out there, but he despises demons who harm kids, so he stays away from child-harming situations. And, well…"
"Those witches sell the souls of the kids they murder to interested demons," Gothy said grimly. "Leona Ernst tried to put me through that as revenge. Said something about me ending up in Hell to some creepy moth…"
"CREEPY MOTH?" Beatrice panicked as if a volcano had suddenly erupted. She teleported towards Gothy and grabbed her by the collar. "YOU PISSED OFF THE GRAND HIGH WITCH'S DAUGHTER ENOUGH FOR HER TO PUT YOUR SOUL ON SALE TO VALENTINO? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?"
"Beatrice, calm down!" Crystal pulled Beatrice away from her girlfriend.
"Don't tell me to calm down, Crystal!" Beatrice snapped. "Unless you forgot a crucial detail, that Moth Hustler has zero morals compared to my godfather, so unless you want your girlfriend to have her ass on movie posters, figure out a way to cloak us from those bald-headed demon bitches so they don't see us coming and I can decapitate them, turn their heads into golf balls, and beat halfway to the Fae Moorways!"
"OK! OK!" Crystal said. "Look, all I need is glitter…" Crystal got cut off when Ozzy pulled out a giant jar half her height out of her hair and put it on the ground. The lights from the ceiling chandelier reflected on the jar's content of rainbow glitter. "Ozzy, why do you have so much glitter?"
"Hello. Gladiola is a Pop Troll. Pop Trolls are obsessed with glitter, so I carry some just in case."
"Right. Anyway, as much of a bitch as he is, my dad taught me how to use glitter for cloaking. If I use all our DNA samples, some magic samples, and a bit of Charles' dog poop jar, I can create enchanted glitter that will spread all over the train. The whole place will be overwhelmed by dog poop stench and magic auras, the witches won't be able to trace us out."
"And if they use the spell to trace out Charles?" Audrey asked.
"The glitter will overwhelm their surroundings. It will be like shoving a snake in a room full of leaking perfumes, driving its sense of smell crazy. Still, even with all the booby traps and cloaking, we got to stay put and wait until they're weakened to attack them."
"Either we kill them or we jump into the Wastelands." Audrey nodded. "Alright, here's the plan. We can't all be in one spot, or else they'll make catching us a whole lot easier. Teams of two. One at the front, one at the middle, and one at the back of the train. At least one member of each team must be a magic user."
"Slightly uneven since Gothy and I are the only ones without magic." Ozzy raised her hand. "I call the front. I'm better off handling the train's engines if something goes wrong."
"The Victorian library room wagon is at the center of the train. Still not sure why they have one of those, but I noticed they had a secret hiding spot behind the artificial fireplace," Charles said. "I can hide myself behind it."
"Are you sure?" Audrey asked worryingly. "Your lung problem was caused by Frollo's fireplace problems…"
"I'll be fine," Charles said dismissively. "You should probably tackle the last wagon. Kory's after you specifically, so the rest of the train won't be so damaged if she attacks you at the back. Might be safer if Crystal teams up with you while Gothy goes with Ozzy and Beatrice sticks with me."
"Why the combo, Captain Fireplace?" Beatrice asked sarcastically.
"Because if something bad happens to Audrey, she has Crystal as backup in the wishing department." Charles frowned. "Gothy apparently had some experience slowing down a train, so she'll be better help to Ozzy, and Beatrice can easily camouflage herself in the library. She can easily turn the witches into beetles from her hiding spot if they capture me and, you know, eat them."
Crystal groaned in frustration. "Great. First he tried to kill us but now Jesse Eisenburg here might have a better chance of surviving if we all die."
"Who's Jesse Eisenburg?" Audrey asked in confusion.
"Zombieland movies. Played this guy who created a series of rules to survive a zombie apocalypse. Was very famous until, you know…"
"Yeah, yeah, the Auradon Apocalypse…" Audrey shook her head. "Let's get ready to kick some witch asses."
Later
Charles still didn't understand why a ridiculous unrealistic train had a wagon designed like a Victorian library. Red velvet walls with white curtains, fancy cushioned chairs and couches surrounding mahogany tables, wall lamps, a carpeted floor, a tapestry portraying Queen Victoria, wooden bookshelves, and a brick fireplace complete with framed pictures of famous authors. Naturally, the place was with the bumpy floor and glitter and acids coating every surface. Beatrice and Charles had to make sure to put gloves on as they pulled open the fireplace, revealing a dark, hidden compartment that could only fit in one person. The weirdest part? The fireplace was basically a one-way mirror. If it looked like a typical 19th century fireplace on the outside, the small compartment basically had a transparent view of the library.
"There's an air vent behind the tapestry," Charles said as he crawled in the compartment. "Once you close the fireplace on me, go hide in it. And remember, if the witches show up, stay put. Don't budge, don't breathe, don't gasp. Only come out if they're actively trying to kill us. If they try to use us as hostage, escape through the air vent and go find Audrey. If they kill me, take my satchel and give it to Ozzy."
"So that's why you wanted me as your buddy?" Beatrice scowled. "A backup that just runs away while you handle the witches?"
"Pretty much. Besides, you guys only need my equipment, not actually me. My likely death is insignificant."
Beatrice's scowl softened a bit. "Wow. You got worse self-esteem issues than me…"
Both cringed when the train came to a brutal halt. Beatrice quickly took a peek through one of the drawn curtains. The train had arrived at some station in a mountainous range. Sure enough, an army of fancily dressed women in hats and gloves began marching in.
"Witches on the train!" Ozzy hissed in their ear mikes. "Everyone, hide!"
"Beatrice, come on!" Charles gestured at the fireplace.
"But your coughing problems!" She protested.
"Who cares? Just send a gag over my mouth if you hear me coughing! Go!"
Beatrice gulped. She finally gave in and pushed the fireplace, closing up Charles into darkness despite the one-way view he had of the library. He watched to his relief as Beatrice rushed to the tapestry, turned herself into a beetle, and scurried to hide in the hidden air vent.
The next minutes were atrocious. The ear mikes constantly picked up the noises of many witches gagging at the overwhelming stench of dog droppings, groaning as they walked through the bumpy floors, and wailing when their claws scratched surfaces only to see their claws break. The loudest noises, however, had to be the frustrated yelling about not finding any child. The hints had suggested the presence of many kids, but so far the witches had spotted none.
The door to the library popped open. Charles kept himself curled up in a ball, reminding himself to stay extremely quiet as four witches stumbled into the room. They seemed smart enough; they kept their high-heeled shoes on to stay balanced on the bumpy carpeted floor and still had their gloves on to touch the surfaces.
"This place reeks!" A dark-skinned witch pinched her nose while her spare hand removed her hat to scratch her bald head. "Where are the brats, then?"
"Don't know, Zelda," an Irish-accented witch in green clothing said as she removed her red-headed wig and shoved it in her handbag. "Even if her Excellency's spell alerted them, it would have been too late.
"I hope you're right, Saoirse," Zelda grimaced. "Her Excellency does have a temper." Zelda turned to the other two witches, both sporting brown wigs. "Pamela? Nicola? Still nothing?"
"There's dog droppings everywhere!" Pamela, who wore nothing but black, exclaimed. "But there's nowhere in this damn library where a child could hide!"
"Don't be too sure. No matter how the story is told, it's always the same thing. We get a witch convention in some hotel conference room with only one door that we lock up tight, somehow there's always some boy who manages to hide either behind a screen divider or under a stage or in an air vent, the rascal hides long enough to hear Her Excellency's plan, he gets caught, she turns him into a mouse, and next thing you know we get turned into mice!" Nicola pointed out. "Children are greedy, filthy, and stupid, but there's always one brat who's cleverer."
I feel so complimented, Charles thought to himself. The door suddenly got ripped apart and thrown across the room, destroying in the process several bookshelves. An upset look landed on Charles at the sight of those fallen books.
"Charles…" Beatrice gave out a quiet whimper in his ear mike. "It's her…"
Charles frowned. Beatrice sounded like she was shivering in fear. He looked and saw the four witches taking a step back in fear while a fifth one literally floated her way in. Her one-sleeved black dress had a massive golden snake ornament wrapped around her body, moving its tail and flickering its tongue. Like the other witches, she kept on her elbow-long black gloves and snakeskin-printed shoes. The most disturbing part about the witch however were her constantly shifting features: one moment, she looked like a stereotypical old, skeletal hag with a brown wig, purple eyes and a pointed nose, and another moment she appeared as a youthful woman with a Glasgow Grin, a blonde wig, and brown eyes. No matter what her appearance was, her eyes were constantly wide open, made even more expressive with her purple eyeshadow.
"YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING WORMS!" The witch shouted. Charles covered his mouth to shut himself up when the witch, in her youthful form, opened her mouth so wide to scream at the others, her Glasgow grin opened up to reveal a long mouth full of sharp teeth. "HOW HARD IS IT FOR YOU TO SPOT A CHILD IN AN EMPTY TRAIN?"
"Forgive us, your Excellency…" Pamela spoke up in.
So that's the Grand High Witch, Charles thought.
"We fear they might have left the train and purposely turned this blasted mode of transportation into a trap…" Pamela said. "But we'll keep searching, Your Excellency."
"You'd better. Lokisdottir is giving a chance at revenge. I want Gothel's children in my clutches!" The Grand High Witch snapped. "Flower, gleam and glow. Let your powers shine. Make the clock reverse. Bring back what once was mine. Wither and decay. End this destiny. Break these earthly chains and set the spirits free. Sundrop and Moonstone, light us the way, regardless of how you are far away!"
Crystal's coating magic worked. Whatever glitter there was in the library, covering every surface, began glowing in bright yellow, purple, and black lights. The witches were so distracted by the blinding lights, they covered their eyes and were unable to notice that the glitter on the fireplace shined brightest, probably from Charles hiding behind it. Charles bit his own hand to retain his muffled screams while the agonizing pain and glowing lights kicked in.
"ENOUGH!" The Grand High Witch floated and twirled midair, summoning a large cloud of soot that spread all over the moon, covering the glitter in a cloud of darkness. When the soot hit the chimney, Charles used his own shirt to cover his nose and mouth. He let out a silent sigh when the cloud cleared. Unfortunately, it meant that not only had the Grand High Witch managed to use soot to cover up the glitter, but she also covered the acidic coatings. Her hag appearance landed on the floor, removed her gloves and revealed her three-fingered, clawed hands.
"Clever brat…" She muttered while wiggling her fingers. Zelda, Saoirse, Pamela, and Nicola followed her example and removed their own gloves. Charles kept an eye on the tapestry. It didn't flinch one bit. Thank god. "I don't like clever brats. They think they can always escape me."
"Perhaps we should look in the other rooms?" Saoirse offered.
Please do, Charles mentally begged.
"Let me think for a moment!" The Grand High Witch snapped. Saoirse moved out of the way while the Grand High Witch pointed at the fireplace. A blue lightning bolt emerged from her eyes and finger, went straight to the fireplace, and created a blue fire. Charles felt the heat rising in him. "The brats obviously knew we were coming! They must still be on the train, especially if the Auradonian is enough to ignite Lokisdottir and her needless wrath." As the witches discussed, the fire seemed to change sizes, enlarging then shrinking and repeating the pattern again. "And Gothel's third-born brat sounds way too clever to be her own offspring."
"To be fair, it's not like Gothel was even a real sorceress, Your Excellency," Zelda said. "She didn't even take pride in her own age. Constantly hoarding the flower's powers to herself."
"I know! The creepy moth didn't even want her after she died, reincarnated as the old crane she really was!" Saoirse snickered, making her sound like a honking goose when she laughed. "She even abandoned her own first-born for a princess with the flower's gift! Zhan Tiri easily manipulated the brat into using the Moonstone's powers! And now Gothel's second and third-born abandoned their own mother! I swear, humans make targeting their children so easy!"
"Agreed." Nicola nodded. "We may kill human children but at least we treat our daughters like the treasures they are."
You ladies really are models for mom of the year, Charles thought sarcastically. The fire kept changing sizes, but now the fire was slowly transitioning from blue to purple.
The Grand High Witch took a deep breath, only to wrinkle her old, pointy nose in disgust. "Points to those brats for making the air smell worse than themselves…"
"Excuse me, Your Excellency…" Pamela raised her hand.
"WHAT?" The Grand High Witch turned into her youthful appearance and barked at Pamela's face with her scary mouth.
"Forgive me," Pamela cringed, "but your fire looks like it's hyperventilating."
Even though the glares were turned towards the fire in what looked like an ordinary fireplace in the library, Charles felt himself stiffen when the one-way see-through view he had made him feel like he was being seen by the witches. And sure enough, he was now seeing what Pamela was talking.
The fire had turned into his own fire and reacted to his own hyperventilation.
Merde. He hid his satchel at the end of the compartment, hoping that no one would spot it if he got caught. He put his hands over his mouth to stop hyperventilating. The fire reacted by shrinking, nearly putting itself out.
"My fire doesn't react that way…" The Grand High Witch frowned. She bent down to have a closer look, stretched out her arms, and put them on the fireplace. To Charles' misfortune, the fire reacted to his panicked heartbeat, and the Grand High Witch must have connected the dots.
In less than one second, she had a tighter grip on the fireplace and ripped it off the wall, throwing it aside and destroying it like a failed paper project. Charles found himself looking at the Grand High Witch towering him. She was still in her youthful appearance; he was partially revealed that she was baring her large mouth at him, but it was still creepy to see those scars on her cheeks as her small mouth stayed put. Her eyes remained wide.
"You…" she began, "…are…"
Same time, in Beatrice's perspective
"ADORABLE!"
Beatrice didn't know what freaked her out the most: seeing the Grand High Witch exposing Charles by destroying the fireplace or the way she suddenly gushed and held up Charles as if she were a mid-aged woman freaking out over how cute a cavapoo puppy was.
She had hidden in the vent, like Charles asked her, but when she heard the witches noticing the fire, she immediately turned into an ant and crawled above the tapestry to get a good view. Her mouth dropped at the sight of the child-hating witch lifting Charles so high up he couldn't even touch the ground, and the moment her minions had a view of him, they gushed.
"Rings of Hell, he's so adorable!" Nicola gushed.
"A little fallen angel!" Pamela clasped her hands together.
"More like a little kitten waiting to kill a fish!" Zelda exclaimed.
"A human child that isn't revolting! Finally!" Saoirse giggled. "Your Excellency, may I hug him?"
"No! And back off!" The Grand High Witch barked at them, reminding them of their place. She slightly lowered Charles so that they could be on the same eye level but still high enough from the ground. "What's your name, you delightful sight for my sore eyes?"
"Uh… Charles?" Beatrice heard Charles gulp. "I'm… Gothel and Frollo's son."
The Grand High Witch frowned. "Gothel and Frollo had sex? Seriously?"
"Ha! You owe me a 50, Pamela!" Saoirse pointed at Pamela. "In your face!"
"Hey, we made that bet 3 decades ago!" Pamela complained.
"Who cares? You still owe me 50!" Saoirse stopped her ranting when Charles turned his head away from the Grand High Witch and started coughing uncontrollably. Curious, the Grand High Witch forcibly cupped her three-fingered hand on Charles' chin, forcing him to look at her again while she sniffed the bottom half of his face.
"Well, you do smell like Frollo's fireplace problems did a number on your coughing. Nothing I can't fix!" Beatrice felt her body freeze as she watched the Grand High Witch force Charles' mouth open and sank her spare hand in it. His body wiggled in agony as she pulled out something that looked like an angry serpent made out of a cloud of soot. The Grand High Witch unceremoniously dropped Charles on the floor so that both of her hands could rip in half the sooty cloud serpent, ripping it into oblivion. She smiled smugly and looked down at Charles, who began to hyperventilate, causing Beatrice to feel horrible on the inside. "There! Now your lungs are cleaner than those of a non-smoker."
"Good to know… I won't die in the next seconds with my lung conditions…" Charles muttered as he sat up, looking at the witches surrounding him. "Let me guess. You'll turn me into a mouse? A chicken? Maybe trap me in a painting to age for the rest of my life like an unmoving picture show?"
"That would be too 1983." Nicola shook her head.
"I was thinking more too 1990." Pamela offered.
"1968, maybe?" Saoirse offered.
"Will you four shut up already?" The Grand High Witch asked rudely in her old hag appearance before reverting back to her youthful appearance. "He's too precious to transform into vermin. Not even a pet."
Beatrice silently sighed in relief.
"Great! In that case, thank you for not killing me yourself, but I'd rather kill myself. Nice meeting you." Charles' hand searched for his pant pocket and pulled out a pill, which caused Beatrice to realize that Charles was crazy enough to carry cyanide. "Best of luck trying to avenge your daughter, and if that doesn't work, I hope you two are reunited in…" Charles found the Grand High Witch grabbing his wrist, dropping the pill in the process. "Hell?"
"No. If I say you're too precious to exterminate like I do with every other child, it means you don't have my permission to kill yourself." Her hand grabbed both of his wrists and forced them close to his chest. Her large, toothy smirk went to her snake ornament as it suddenly slithered down her dress and body, onto the floor, and up Charles' legs. Up on the tapestry, Beatrice kept her horror to herself but the witches laughed as their leader's animated serpentine ornament coiled around and tightening itself on Charles, trapping his arms close to his chest and causing him to yelp in pain.
"I am, however, going to use you as bait and trick your sister into coming out," the Grand High Witch sneered, "and the last thing she'll see is the look on my snickering face when I kill her and her friends, Lokisdottir has her revenge on the Auradonian, and you're the only one alive. I'll laugh as she gets screwed for the rest of her miserable life in Hell…" Her three fingers stroked Charles' cheek a bit too sweetly, "…and she won't be able to do anything while I hold on to you."
"To sacrifice so that your daughter may come back to life?" Charles groaned out, the snake tightening around him.
"Please. I'm a witch who sells living child souls to the afterlife, not the other way around." She cupped both of his cheeks. "No, I'm going to keep you for myself. See is as universal, humiliating karma to both sides of your family… as I raise you as my own."
Beatrice really wanted to vomit. Somehow, Charles managed to charm child-murdering witches with his unintentional cuteness, their own psychotic leader actually wanted to adopt him! What kind of sick, Rated M fanfic script am I watching? She asked herself.
"My own mother abandoned me to live with my father the moment she found out she was expecting me," Charles managed to spat venomously despite the gold-painted metal snake restraining him. "My father showed me close to no love. My half-sister and I grew up hating each other and this shitshow of a road trip won't change how she thinks of me. In what rational universe do you think she'll actually fall for the whole 'using me as bait'? She'll easily put her dagger in my stomach, so you're wasting your time. Not to mention that I fail to see your interest in me. What could the leader of an army of all-female child hating witches want with the biromantic asexual son of a genocidal religious maniac and an undignified whore? And in case Lokisdottir failed to give you the memo, I learned how to defend myself and kill the supernatural because I don't have anything else that's useful in my life! I killed most of her wolf army, including her own hellhound! How do you think your ally will react when she discovers that you decided to go soft on me?"
The Grand High Witch let go of his cheeks, only for the ornament snake's head to open up and force himself on Charles' mouth, petrifying itself as it became a makeshift gag. In her old hag appearance, she grabbed the snake restraint and yanked Charles towards her. "You talk too much for a clever boy. I pampered my own daughter but even Leona knew better than to test my patience. But don't worry. Once I get my revenge on your sister, you'll come to appreciate how much of a wonderful mother I am. You will have the family you never realized you needed within my coven, and when you are older, you will have killed so many children… I wouldn't be surprised if you made all of humanity sterile! Ladies, move out! Charles, come along!"
Beatrice watched as the Grand High Witched pulled Charles out of the room and the four witches followed along. Charles' muffled screams echoed out of the compartment. Guilt-ridden, Beatrice turned into a horsefly and flew towards the compartment where Charles had hidden. She turned to her normal humanoid height and located both Charles' satchel and his ear mike.
"He must have ditched it on purpose…" Beatrice said as she held the device in her hands. Acting quickly, she grabbed the satchel and turned again into a horsefly, flying back into the air vent hidden behind the tapestry. Once inside, she turned to a mouse-sized height and began running down the air vent, Charles' satchel still at hand.
"Guys, we got a problem!" Beatrice hissed in her ear mike.
