A Witch’s Revenge

That was clever, giving me the wrong ritual. I’ll be the first to say I underestimated you. You were never a particularly bright or gifted witch, but you did possess an extraordinary talent for lying. I nearly believed those gushing crocodile tears and that poetic performance of your sappy apology. You just loved to torture me at the Academy, but I thought joining a coven might have changed you. I guess I thought you’d grow up. My mistake.

Now thanks to you, my house smells of charred flesh, and Satan’s beady-eyed teenage brat is raiding my freezer and eating my mint chocolate chip. After every spoonful, she reminds me in her pitchy soprano of all the ways her dad is going to kill me. She has quite the imagination, or maybe she’s learning the family business. I’ve heard she’s butchered at at least six thousand souls and sent them straight to dear old daddy. Quite the prodigy he has. Sending her to me was foolish and reckless. Satan barely needs an excuse to wreak havoc on earth, and now he’ll target all witches, not just me.

I hope you realize the consequences of your little prank, because I know that if you survive Satan’s rampage, you better hope the Sisterhood reaches you first. I won’t be so merciful. Watch your back, Sister.