Cruel and Unusual Magic

"Yes. I want to remember, and I want to learn. Please teach me, Ms. Lena. Please?"

Lena hugged her warmly. "I'm so happy you said that. And the first order of business is to stop with the 'Ms. Lena.' I am Lena. Your teacher and your friend. And, if you can stand giving up housekeeping, your new employer. Having you apprentice at the jewelry store when you're not in school would make teaching you much more convenient."

Mariel hugged her so hard she almost cracked ribs. "But keep calling my husband 'Mr. Brad' for as long as you like. It drives him crazy! Now, let's get our story straight and I'll call the police."

* * * * * * * *

In an adult emporium next to a truck stop, a young, greasy-haired man with an enormous beer-belly and a world-class case of body odor was perusing the shelves. He picked up a box and read the label to himself: "Meet Louisa! Your blow-up Anime schoolgirl. Three holes for your pleasure."

"Oh yeah," he said to no one in particular, "Me and my cousins are gonna have some serious fun with this."

* * * * * * * *

The shock of the mirror shattering had finally worn off. Or at least Harris thought it was shock. He had been unable to move for a while, so he had decided to wait it out, let his head clear. He didn't understand what that witch had done to him, but he was going to make her suffer. Massively. The thought made him smile, although he couldn't feel his cheeks move. Weird. Oh, yeah, she was his. He didn't need any fucking necklace to degrade her -- he'd had plenty of practice on women he didn't hate. This was going to be awesome.

He let his eyes scan around. It was dark. No, that wasn't quite right. Dark meant that all you saw was black. What he saw -- what he THOUGHT he saw -- wasn't black. Or white, or grey, or any color. It was just nothing. He tried to quiet his mind, to calm himself down. He listened for his own heartbeat, or the familiar ringing in his ears he'd had since his day at the shooting range years ago. There was no sound.

He started to panic. He wanted to take a breath but could not feel his chest to make it move. He concentrated on wiggling his fingers. Nothing. That was the word that kept coming up. Nothing.

After what he thought might have been an hour -- there was nothing to mark time -- he went through the same checkdown. See anything? No. Hear anything? No. Move anything? No. Feel anything? No.

He waited again for as long as he could before anxiety compelled him to try again. It might have been ten hours or ten seconds -- he didn't know. Same result. Nothing. He tried again and again. Nothing.

He could still think, though. Memories were as clear as day. His imagination raced, trying to dream up some scenario that ended with him exacting his revenge.

Or at least escaping.

Or maybe just dying.

The hopelessness of his fate began to grip him. He screamed in anguish and fear. Or tried to, at least.

The End

Author's Note: time allowing, I hope to write additional stories including Lena, Brad and Mariel. Fun ideas for who they meet, where they go, and what they do will be gratefully accepted.