Unnatural Things

And a severed head

I have made a grave error. I’ve assumed myself infallible, untouchable, unknowable. But I am none of those things. I am… I am in deep shit is what I am. As I write this a man is headed up my mountain with, an abomination. Something so impossible, I have no idea how… Then again, he’s not really a man. Perhaps this was where I made my error…

I should go back. A while back I had a client up on the mountain, a scientist named Robert, he had a day job but also loved to tinker and invent things. He was obsessed with his inventions which left him drained and struggling at his day job. He wanted a double to help with his inventing while he went about his daily life. So I birthed a clone, out of my mouth. It’s described in Robert’s story, I won’t go over it again. Needless to say, Original Robert didn’t follow my strict instructions and ended up being killed and eaten by Clone Robert. Clone Robert then sent me a letter, called me MOM (my flesh crawleth about my bones), and threatened to come and find me.

I brushed it off. How could I not? Humans have no power against me. The lifeblood of Hell flows through my veins. I am no mere mortal, I am The Witch. But I forgot one important thing, Clone Robert is not human. He’s made from me. From me and the dark matter I manipulated to craft his form inside my chest. Living without his mold (AKA Original Robert), the clone has had no human influence to suck the magic out of him. He’s possibly grown more powerful.

So here I sit, watching his progress up the mountain in my obsidian ball, ancient books strewn about my table, wisdom tea settling in my belly, and an image of that thing he is carrying burned into my psyche. I’ve only seen one once before and it was a horrific sight. Glowing an unearthly blue and red it seemed to suck the energy out of everyone in the coven. I’m loath to even write down its name… I’ll say only this, ferns do not flower, except for when they do. And now that monster that I made is marching up my mountain with the unthinkable abomination. An impossible aberration of nature the likes of which… I feel faint.