Paul Kater - Hilda the Wicked Witch

by Paul Kater

Published by the author at Smashwords -Copyright 2010 Paul Kater

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Contents:

The noise echoed away through the street. Frombehind curtains people carefully looked out onto the street, mostof them staying out of view. The motorcycle gang was back in town,and usually that did not bode well.

"Dammit, Skull, when are you going to fix thatstinking carburetor!", one of the men yelled as he got off hisHarley. The woman that usually was behind him had already jumpedoff to get herself to safety. Bubba was angry, and when he was likethat he did not pay attention to anything. Several kicks in herside had taught her that.

"Yo, Bubba, I thought I had done so!" Skullkicked the innocent and abused engineblock. "I'll look at it later,I need a piss and a drink first."

"Yeah!", the rest of the gang joined in. Theytrotted off towards the nearest bar, which was by default alsodestined for an involuntary remodeling. The six big bikes remainedin the middle of the street, unattended. Nobody would touchthem.

In Bantrey's Bookshop, the proprietor looked outof the window. "Oh dear. They are back."

William Conolley stepped up to the window andsaw the motorcycles. "They?"

"The motorcycle gang. It is run by someone theycall Bubba," Bert Bantrey said. "The obnoxious yellow machine ishis."

"I see," said William Conolley. "Now... aboutthis book..." He returned to the table where a large, leatherboundbook lay open. The sides of the pages had a thin golden lining, thepaper was old and yellow, and the font of the text had moreresemblance to the patient copying-work of an old monk thansomething a modern printer would produce. "I do want this book, butthe price you ask for it is outrageous, my good man." He carefullytapped a page, making sure he did not touch the text or the gold.The book was old enough to be handled with respect.

Bert Bantrey sighed and looked at the book. "Iknow, the price is high, my dear friend, but it is worth it. Everysingle penny. I cannot lower the price unless I want to cut into myown flesh. I mean... look at the leather. Look at the printing.Feel the paper and its original pattern..."

William Conolly slowly was pulled over. Theprice, he knew, was not at all over the top, but his merchantspirit did not want to give in so easily. He slowly paged throughthe book a bit more, looked at the pages. Held one against thelight, to see how the pattern of the paper was perfect everywhere.He mumbled something to himself, then look Bert Bantrey in theeye.

Bert already sensed that he had won. A smile wason his face, his hand was already in the position to be shaken."Come on, Bill, do it. You know you want it. It has your name allover it, in your favourite typeset. The smell of the book isirresistable and you bloody well know it."

William shook his head. "You are one meanperson, Bert, but I am going to buy this book from you."

The woman stood in front of the mirror as themotorcycle gang parked their monstrous machines. She had noknowledge of them, as she was very far away from them. She lookedat the silvery glass, touching the necklace she wore. The mirrorshowed an image of a young woman with black hair and a fair skin,who was walking along a field covered with flowers.

"Yuck," the woman spat. "All those colourfulthings. I'd forbid them, if I had a say in it."

The young woman in the mirror seemed to sing asshe picked flowers.

"I'll have you gasp for air, once I get thatapple to you," the angry woman said as she turned away from themirror. Her long grey hair floated over her dark red robe, herblack dress rustled as she walked over to a table. She took up asmall silver stick and an apple.

With the stick pointing to the apple, under herbreath she mumbled a few phrases. "And I hope I got it right thistime," she ended her short monologue.

Then, the apple and the stick in her hand, sheturned to the mirror again and started to approach it, as she builtup her concentration. The apple was pulsating, as if a light livedinside it that was fighting to get out. "No, no, not yet my littlekiller friend," the wicked witch (for that was who she was) said."Only a few minutes more, and then you can do what I have made youfor. You will stick in that stupid girl's throat and make sure thatshe is not getting in my way to take control over this country." Aloud cackling laugh filled the room, its echoes making even thefurniture shudder.

She pointed her wand at the mirror and startedspeaking a spell that was going to take her to the meadow where theinnocent wench was dancing and trampling through the flowers. Theincantation was gaining strength, the magical aura around thewicked witch formed exactly the way she wanted it to do, so itwould project her to her victim.

In Bantrey's Bookstore, the two men shook handson the sale, and then, as their habit was, they both slapped thepage that was open.

The wicked witch unleashed the built-up powerfrom the wand. As it hit the mirror, the mirror exploded in amillion tiny fragments! The power around the witch was disturbed byquantum-physical laws that she had no knowledge of, and shedisappeared from her room. Instead of ending up with her apple inthe meadow, however, she materialised somewhere entirelydifferent...

In O'Malley's Bar, the pina coladas were thedrink of the day. Skull and Bubba, together with their friends,were having a great time. The barkeeper was tied up on a stool inthe corner of his own establishment, the large mirror had beentaken down - in tiny bits - with the aid of a winebottle, and thewhiskey flowed liberally. The gang had the bar to themselves. Theother customers had left the place as the gang had entered, whichwas usually the safest and healthiest option. The runaway clientelewould return to pay for their beverages later. If there wassomething to come back to, of course.

"Hey, Bitch, come over here!" Julius shouted tohis girlfriend. The girl, with long black hair that desperatelyneeded a wash, and equally black pants under a purple shirt,waddled over to him, not taking the brandy bottle from herlips.

Julius slapped the bottle from her hand, pulledher against him and started slobbering in her neck, which heconsidered his personal interpretation to a kiss. Bitch screamedwith laughter, let him at it for a while, then calmly reached outand whacked a bottle over Julius' head. The slobbering ended rightthe same moment, and Julius descended to terra firma. "Always toldyou that booze gives you a rotten head," Bitch grinned, kicked herlover and went looking for another bottle.

The general level of sound and noise the gangproduced inside the bar prevented them from hearing a rather loudsound that happened outside. In an alleyway that was rather closeto where they had all parked their bikes, an alley that ran next toBantrey's Bookstore. The sound from the alleyway was not just that,it also manifested a very fierce gust of wind, strong enough toblow the bikes over. As was to be expected, it did just that.

"Oh my," Bert Bantrey said when the windowsstopped shaking and the floor was without tremors again, "did youhear that?" Quickly the two went to the window again, and werethere just in time to see the last bike roll over and playdead.

"Uh-oh," William said. "The motor people willnot be happy with that. Perhaps I should load my acquisitions intomy truck and make miles..."

"Let me give you a hand, old boy," Bert said,"you'll damage your back with that pack!"

Together they lifted the large crate with booksand carried it outside, where William opened the truck. The cratefit in the compartment like a hand in a glove made to order. Theprecious leatherbound book lay on top of it, wrapped in a finecotton cloth.