The Witchs Countdown

The way I figured it, if those mindless things were coming after me, whether I liked it or not, why not throw them a welcoming party? I’d take pride in being the best hostess they’d ever had. Everything was laid out for their hearts' desire—never mind that I had no idea if they even had hearts. I aimed to please and surprise them so hard they'd drop dead on the spot. If I were a lucky girl. But I was a believer, and that’s why I was at a construction site in the middle of Manhattan, making sure my guests had everything arranged for their pleasure: thirteen hearts, two Desert Eagles, some throwing knives, and last but not least, my two Butterflies—Butter and Fly.

I never claimed to be creative. The hearts were among my favorite weapons, metal shaped into perfect hearts—almost paper-thin and able to cut through anything, except bone. My Desert Eagles, a heaven of black aluminum and stainless steel, fit perfectly in my hands. My throwing knives had become like removable fingers to me, and my Butterflies were my most prized possessions. The blades were as long as my forearm, making them easy to conceal and carry. They were identical, with longer-than-usual crossguards that allowed me to hold them in several different positions; their single-edged blades sliced through bone with ease. I loved my babies, and I was pretty sure my guests were going to... Oh, shoot. I blew it, didn’t I? I’d arranged everything for my pleasure, not theirs. Bad, bad, Scarlet.

Resisting a smile was impossible. I’d waited for this night for over two years, and it was finally coming together the way I wanted it to. My magic surged in short bursts of energy. I couldn’t see it, but I felt it. I intensified it while holding my breath, because I needed my guests to arrive soon. Rain poured heavily outside. It was cold up here, on the ninth floor of the building under reconstruction. The walls were missing, and tools littered the ground—tools I’d use as weapons if necessary.

And my guests... I wasn’t sure what they were, but they looked pretty ordinary if you missed their pupils, which were vertically slit like a cat’s. Oh, and they were all men, too. No idea why. The first time I saw one was almost two years ago. He chased me like a hawk its prey until he cornered me in an alley and began to suck me dry. Vampires were bad, but this guy? He was horror incarnate. He drained my powers and left me for dead. I didn’t wake up for a full day afterward. At the time, I had no idea what had happened or what he’d done to me. I thought he’d taken all my magic, never to be restored again. To this day, I still can’t figure out if I was happy or sad about it. But my magic returned, just like always, and within forty-eight hours, I was as good as new.