Read BeSwitched Page 15


  Chapter 15

  Idis’s Victorian house appeared like a big green monster in the night. Pussface approached the habitation with fear running its chilling fingers across his spine.

  Peering through a window, the black cat witnessed Idis on her knees in the center of the living room. Long and black drippy candles burned around her.

  The atmosphere had a strange, red haziness about it, while the witch chanted over and over in an unknown language, raising her voice louder and louder. Once she reached the level of yelling, a soft wind twirled around her, ruffling her dress and messing her already wild hair. Suddenly a ghostly being seeped through the floorboards and floated above her like a mist.

  “Yes!” Idis cackled, throwing her head back dramatically.

  “Oh no. Idis has gone too far.” Pussface jumped off the porch, heading in the opposite direction as fast as his four legs could take him.

  A scratching from Cathy’s bedroom window was so distinct that it woke up Surla. “What is that?”

  The black curled up body at the bottom of the bed stirred. “What?”

  Scratch… scratch. “That!” she whispered loudly.

  “Probably the tree.” Cathy was half asleep.

  Scratch… “Hey!” a voice called from outside.

  “Can your tree talk, too?” Surla pulled the bed sheets over half her face in fear.

  “No. Not like your mirror can.”

  “Didn’t you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  “A voice say—”

  “Hey!” It finished the sentence. “You, guys, let me in!”

  “Oh my gosh!” Cathy’s fur stood on end.

  “Go away, tree!” Surla said.

  “It’s me—Pussface! Please, I need in!” They finally had the courage to look at the window where two orange orbs stared in at them.

  “Yeah right. I’m not letting you in!” Surla sat up with anger and so did Cathy.

  “No, but, but you don’t understand. I need to talk to you! Idis is up to no good…”

  “Like we didn’t know that already,” Cathy retorted.

  “I’m on your side now, Surla. I always was, except the scaredy cat in me made me listen to Idis. You have to trust me.”

  “Should we trust him?” Cathy asked, being gullible by nature.

  “No way! What if Idis is hiding next to him? And as soon as I open that window, she comes flying in like a banshee.”

  “Then we’re doomed. You’re right.”

  “I don’t know how I can prove it to you, Surla. I just wanted to get some refuge and warn you at the same time. “

  “Warn me of what?”

  “Idis. She is dealing with Black Magic now. I saw her myself, summoning evilness. Now you know that’s the one commandment the Witch’s Coven holds the firmest—to not deal with Black Magic.”

  Surla and Cathy turned to each other with wide eyes.

  “Why would I lie to you about something like this?” His voice cracked with sincerity.

  “Well.” She slowly approached the window and gazed through it at all angles. “Okay, cousin… I’m trusting you.”

  Early the next morning, a little, yellow car pulled into Idis’s driveway. Out stepped a small Chinese woman in a long red trench coat. Her heels click-clacked up the creaky porch steps. She then rang the doorbell, which chimed a slow low tune. From inside her coat, something wriggled around and she held the bundle tightly as she heard footsteps coming to answer. Anticipation was evident as she pursed her lips.

  The witch opened the door a crack. Dark baggy circles formed around her eyes from the night before, making her already piercing pale green eyes even more piercing. It almost hurt to look straight into them. “What do you want?” Her big nose pointed suspiciously to the concealed object in the woman’s coat.

  A sickened frown quickly appeared. In a strong accent she replied, “I berieve I’ve found Surra.”

  “What?! Speak clearer!”

  “Surra, your pet. Is there a reward?”

  “Oh! Surla! Hurry up, hand her over!” Idis’s long skinny fingers reached out. “Finally those stupid posters paid off.”

  The Chinese woman undid a few buttons revealing the tired black body.

  “A poodle!” Idis screeched. “A poodle!”

  “Yes. Not Surra?” The runny eyed, curly-furred dog was then held out, and it yelped.

  “No, not Surrrrra!” she mimicked in fury. “Surla is my cat, not dog.” Idis grabbed a flier and pointed to the crayon picture.

  “Oh, it rook very much rike a poodle,” she disagreed. “See, short tail and froppy ears.”

  “You wanna see a poodle? Here!” Her arms shot straight out, fingers stretched and spread. POOF!

  “Bye, Mom, I’ll see you later tonight.” Surla slipped out the door, allowing Cathy and Pussface to follow. It was Halloween night. It was pretty easy to decide on a costume this year. Surla wore a black body suit, nylons, cat ears, and a long tail. Two real black cats and a gorgeous girl wearing a cat costume attracted so much attention walking down the sidewalks, that even little boys running around in Ninja robes looked to each other with dropped mouths.

  The three headed toward Idis’s. None of them spoke a word to each other until they were standing in front of their spooky destination. It sat there, silent and repelling.

  “You’re sure she’ll be gone tonight?” Surla stood, worried, on the dead grass.

  “I’m sure,” Pussface spoke up. “I heard her talkin’ to Gretchen through Vladimirror. Idis can’t miss out on The Witches’ Ball this year, because Marilyn Handsome will be there, entertaining.”

  “Marilyn Handsome, really?” Surla’s eyebrows raised with interest. “They’ve been trying to get him for four years.”

  “Weird,” Cathy whispered. The moonlight cast a mysterious orange.

  Together, they creaked up the porch steps. Spread in front of the door was a pool of water. Before Surla moved an inch closer, a ghostly, barely audible, voice moaned, “Don’t step in a pooooodle.”

  “What was that?” Pussface leaned his head back to see Surla’s fear in her face.

  “Don’t step in that—puddle,” Cathy repeated.

  “No, I’m sure it said ‘poodle,’” Pussface said quickly.

  Surla shook her head. “Whatever. We’re obviously hallucinating.”

  “All three of us?” Pussface’s ears twitched.

  “Yeah.” Surla proceeded, splashing a shoe in the wet spot.

  “Ooo!” they heard a faint voice echo.

  “Are you going to say we hallucinated again?” Cathy’s tail went between her legs.

  The question was ignored as Surla grabbed the door’s handle. It felt more than cold; it was icy, and it was locked. “C’mon we’ll try another entry.”

  “What’s that note say on the door?” Pussface noticed.

  “Oh, Idis puts that up every year to scare off the trick-or-treaters.” She tore it off and read, “I eat children for breakfast.” Then it was thrown into the bushes.

  A tall, black-iron fence separated the front from the backyard. A thick oak tree twisted up and over it. Cathy and Pussface slid their lean bodies underneath.

  The railing, which resembled spears shooting up in the air, was too thin for any human body to squeeze through. “Be careful,” Cathy warned, waiting in the weeds of the side-yard. She saw Surla grab a sturdy branch with both her hands. Surla glanced at her fake nails; their redness glistened in the night. She sighed with worry, then held on tighter as her feet climbed up the trunk. She was amazed at her strength in her legs, but still it was straining. She hopped to the other side with just more than a few inches away from the spear-like points. Once her feet hit ground, the fuzzy-eared headband fell off and she quickly retrieved it.

  “Good job,” Pussface complimented.

  “It was nothin’,” she kidded, while fixing the rest of her hair.

  Red-brick steppingstones wrapped around the patio. Moss emerged from the crack
s, and waving wild grass tried hiding the path. The patio’s cement was severely cracked and exotic plants hung above in old pots. A naked statue of a headless woman caught Cathy’s attention, as it sat captured with ivy, arms outstretched as if it was yearning for help.

  “Pussface, Cathy,” Surla called for their attention. Her foot pushed open a plastic cat door. “You two go in and unlatch the window for me.”

  “Let’s go, partner,” Pussface said and led the way through the flap.

  Surla worked the holey screen off carefully. Inside, a kitchen unwelcomingly greeted them. Black cauldrons of different widths hung above rust-colored counters. Jars were strewn around, holding squishy, pod-like things with tentacles. An awful smell like an old corpse filled the room.

  Cathy gave out a couple kitty-coughs. “I couldn’t have imagined it worse.”

  “If you think this is bad…,” Pussface wiped a cobweb off his whiskers with a paw, “you should visit my witch’s house.”

  They heard a tapping come from the only window, now without a screen, and saw Surla mouthing to them, “Hurry up.”

  They jumped to the windowsill, being careful not to tip over a jar full of whatever. A latch was pushed up by the two, making it possible for Surla to slide open the glass and climb through.

  “If I’m right…,” Surla pulled in her velvet-sewn tail, “the Spellbook should be upstairs in the library.” She waved a hand in front of her nose. “Woo! Hurry up. I almost forgot how bad it smells in here.”

  They went through swinging double doors.

  A familiar scene of Idis clipping her toenails on the green couch flashed through Surla’s mind as they passed the living room. They ascended the winding mahogany staircase. Reprints of Picasso’s early paintings of women lined the wall in the upstairs hallway. Not one depicted a beautiful vision of women.

  Surla stopped a moment, like she had done numerous times before to study over one portrait: an exaggerated nose almost jumped off the canvas, red hair framed the sullen face and a frumpy green hat sat atop. Surla remembered Idis posing for Pablo Picasso in his creative, and messy studio.

  Surla didn’t know a lot of the newspapers, which were strewn around his studio, were actually used in his artwork; she thought the Spanish guy was being so friendly to line the room with poopypaper for her, until one day she ruined something that was very important. Then Picasso yelled at Idis, “Your estupido gato has ruined my masterpiece!”

  It was a long process to finish the well-known Idis portrait, yet in it she remains nameless. The original portrait has been known to hang in San Francisco’s Legion Of Honor Art Museum.

  The sound of a book slamming to the floor of the library brought Surla’s attention back to its sole purpose. She entered the library, situated inside the witch’s cap. Pussface and Cathy were already hunting through Edgar Allen Poe sections for the Spellbook. Dust captured colorful moonlight, beaming through tall stained glass and peacefully landing on bookshelves. Cathy climbed those shelves, searching where Surla couldn’t reach. Covers were tattered, bindings broken, pages turned yellow with age, and dirty fingerprints dotted most.

  After a long while, the chime of a clock was heard from the next room over. They all froze as Surla counted the time to be nine o’clock.

  “We have plenty of time.” Pussface poked his head from behind a stack of encyclopedias. “Idis shouldn’t be back until waaay after midnight.”

  “But we’ve searched through almost everything in here.” Cathy looked at her dusty paws with dismay. “And look at the mess we’ve made.”

  “Then where else could it be?” Surla put her hands on her hips in thought.

  “Maybe Idis is smarter than we think. Why would someone place something so important in the most obvious place?” Cathy said.

  “She’s right,” Pussface added.

  “Maybe…,” Surla bit her bottom lip, “it’s in her room. Yeah! C’mon.”

  New energy came over them as they entered Idis’s, two doors down the hall. The walls and ceiling were painted a midnight blue and a red light glowed dimly from a small lamp, casting its hue across a thick black bedspread, which flowed to the wood floor like magma.

  Antique perfume bottles with their atomizer pumps decorated a dresser with ornate designs. Vladimirror stood silently next to the dresser, ominously reflecting the three trespassers.

  “Is that the magic mirror?” Cathy asked.

  “Yes, that’s him—Vladimirror. He can probably hear us right now, if he’s not sleeping.”

  “Aren’t you afraid he might tell Idis what we’re doing?” Pussface reasoned.

  “Not at all. He’s tired of the old witch, just as I am. Besides, we’re friends. Aren’t we, Vladimirror?”

  He stood there, still silent. “Vladimirror,” Surla called again. “It’s me—Surla. I’m switched with Cathy, who’s down there.” She pointed to her body.

  Still silence.

  “Okay, this calls for drastic measures,” she joked. “Mirror mirror, on the wall. Who’s the fairest of them all?”

  “(Snore!) I wasn’t dialing any 900 numbers, I swear.” A swirl of colors took over the reflection. “Oh, dear. That’s not Idis. Who are you?” His congenial voice was timid.

  “It’s me, Vladimirror. It’s Surla. I was BeSwitched with a girl named Cathy when I ran away. There she is… in my body…and I in hers. Oh, and there’s Pussface, of course.”

  “So, then, why do you look like a giant cat?”

  Surla laughed. “It’s my Halloween costume. Tonight is Halloween, didn’t you know?”

  “Sorry, Idis doesn’t keep a calendar in here.”

  “I came to get the Spellbook, so we can switch back. Do you know where it might be?”

  “I know she keeps a book under the bed. I’m not sure if it’s the Spellbook. It might be a diary or something because she never lets me get a good reflection of it.”

  “I’ll look.” Cathy quickly slid her furry body along the wood floor. Sure enough, she saw something square, just a few feet away. Slinking closer she saw the old English script on the cover, but before she could say anything a sharp pain bit at one of her back paws. “Yeeow!” Her head hit the bottom of the bed by reflex. Slowly she slid back out.

  “Ouch, Cathy. A rat-trap is hooked to you.” Surla carefully removed it. “Idis hates rats.”

  “I wonder why,” Pussface mumbled sarcastically as visions came to him. Hmmm… they both have big pointy noses, they both smell, and they both like to lurk in alleys at night.

  Surla bent over, lifting the blankets, after Cathy told her of the book she saw—but instead of seeing a book, two glowing, green eyes awaited her from the opposite end. Surla shot up straight like an arrow and gasped.

  “Ha! Looking for something?” Idis, standing up also, didn’t blink. “Maybe this!” The Spellbook was brought from behind her back. The gold lettering on the cover shined.

  Vladimirror went blank, reflecting the backs of Surla’s shaking knees and the two cats sinking to the ground, ears flattened.

  “Surla, is that you?” The witch walked closer, scrutinizing the whole outfit. “Half cat… Half girl! Ha! Did the BeSwitching only work halfway?”

  Instead of giving an answer, Surla glanced down at the Spellbook, which was now held only a foot away. Like the cat she once was, her body pounced at it. In a millisecond both she and the book were out the door and down the hall.

  Idis shrieked, and within the next second the house’s whole atmosphere morphed. It gave Surla a severely claustrophobic feeling, as if she were being sucked into a black hole. The place looked as if it were spinning. She dropped to the floor, taking hold of the stairway’s banister with her free hand. Her breath was short and panicky with desperation as she saw Idis exit her bedroom, the door automatically slamming behind her.

  Idis had an odd calmness about her as the sickening twirling continued. “You aren’t leaving this house with the Spellbook… And you might not leave with your life either.” Her wretched
smile increased.

  “You’ve got it wrong, Idis.” Surla pulled herself along the railing. When she reached the top step, she exhaled with relief as the spinning stopped.

  “You think you’re going to actually win.” Idis talked like a concerned mother, whose child had been led astray. “I raised you from birth, I gave you a home, and what do you do to show thanks? RUN AWAY!”

  The once sturdy mahogany wood beneath Surla started to crumble.

  “Aaaaaaaaaaah!” Surla took hold of the banister, dropping the Spellbook, which made an echoing thud at the bottom story. She attempted to monkey-bar her way down the railing, but they started to snap in half in a domino effect all the way down the winding staircase. Not being able to descend fast enough, Surla fell to the bottom floor, still clenching onto a broken rail.

  Upstairs, Pussface and Cathy were involved in a plan to help Surla. Vladimirror was dialing up Gretchen. Out of a green swirling fog, the fat witch, holding a glass of wine, answered, tipsy. “Who has disturbed my par-ty? Pussface?”

  “Yes. Please, you gotta help.”

  “Help what? What’s the matter?”

  “Idis. She’s downstairs right now, trying to kill Surla who’s been BeSwitched with Cathy here.”

  “She is?”

  “Not only that, but she is going to do it with the help of Black Magic.”

  “Black Magic!” Gretchen gasped. Her wine glass dropped and shattered on the ground. “I can’t do this alone.” With a slight pause, she turned around to her party scene. “Sisters! Marilyn!”

  Idis’s arms outstretched, and as if being supported by someone under the arms, she flowed effortlessly from the upstairs down toward Surla. Her boots finally came to a clank against the wood flooring. The witch leaned over Surla’s weary body. Surla’s lungs heaved for breath. Idis loomed over her without expression, then retrieved the Spellbook, and came back to slap a cold, bony hand across Surla’s cheek, and laughed. Surla spit at the witch, and it landed in her eye.

  “You vile little… ER!” Idis stormed, and a powerful rush of wind thrust Surla against a wall and into a bathroom.

  The door slammed shut and locked by itself. Surla’s eyes darted around and landed on a window. She slid the clear shower-curtain to one side, and stepped into the old-fashioned bathtub, to open the possible escape-route. She could hear the kitchen sink run with water. Without warning, the bathroom sink’s faucet burst out with water, followed by the tub’s.

  Surla worked at the window but it was no use; the lock automatically went back down with each attempt. “My gosh. This house is completely possessed!” With that said, the shower curtain grabbed at her, enveloping her in the plastic. She tried to fight back, punching and kicking, but it wrapped around each of her limbs with ease, then shoved her down onto her back, water rising around her.

  Upstairs, eleven maddened witches flew through Vladimirror, all having very extraordinary characteristics. One that looked the youngest, around twenty-three, had silver long hair which waved into curls at the backs of her knees and blood-red lips that were naturally glossy. “Saffron, where’s Marilyn?” Gretchen turned to her and asked.

  “He’s coming.” Her violet eyes twinkled with animation.

  “Hurry up!” Gretchen saw him. His long black hair was sleek, skin was pale, and one eye was baby blue while the other was black.

  “As long as I don’t have fun.” He stepped his gangly legs through the mirror.

  “They’re downstairs fighting. It sounds like it’s coming from the bathroom,” Pussface quickly informed.

  Idis was in the kitchen washing out her eye, when the witches snuck toward the swinging doorway and peeked in. “Go check the bathroom,” Gretchen ordered Marilyn.

  “Idis.” Gretchen threw open the doors, with the sisters close behind.

  Idis turned around and her eyes now literally glowed. “What?! What is this?!”

  As Marilyn walked to the bathroom, he heard clanking of pots, shattering of glass, and shrieking coming from the kitchen. He turned the bathroom’s doorknob and it unlocked. Inside, he saw Surla under water, weakly struggling. Slowly, he walked over to get a better look. Surla’s eyes were pleading. Air escaped her mouth, making little bubbles surface, and her hair waved like silk.

  Emotionless, Marilyn said, “Let her go.” With that order, the shower-curtain released and water stopped rushing.

  Surla sat up, choking for air. Before she could speak, he was out the door, heading to the kitchen. She squinted her eyes in thought.

  Cathy and Pussface leaped from the upstairs to the green couch downstairs. They soon saw Surla dripping wet, ringing out her fake tail, exiting the bathroom.

  “Hey!” Surla rushed over to them. “What’s going on in the kitchen?”

  “We called Gretchen up for help,” Cathy said.

  Inside the warzone, Idis seethed with evil. Her hair twirled around like snakes. She stood on a counter throwing anything not attached to the ground by her magical powers. The witches danced around, arms waving, collecting their own magical powers together.

  Gretchen, prancing on her fat feet, noticed Marilyn studying a jar of goop. “Hey!” she said breathy. “Whose side are you on? Help us!”

  He looked up momentarily, then continued, studying another jar. The air had a magnetized feel. Their skin was tingling with the sensation. Gretchen, Saffron, and all the other witches knew what that meant. It was the feeling of evil powers fighting good. Idis’s Black Magic was just as strong as the eleven witches all together. With every step-ball-change they danced, they felt weaker, until most hunched from over-exertion. Evil was now overcoming good.

  From between the floorboards, Idis summoned black demons, which looked like nothing more than shadows with red eyes. Eleven demons seeped in to overtake eleven witches.

  Surla peeked into the kitchen long enough to behold a demon slither through Saffron’s lips. Her back arched, lunging her chest forward while her neck rolled. Her once violet eyes were now red and the color beamed out like lasers.

  “It’s terrible.” Surla shut the door and ran to her friends. “What can I do? I can’t use my magic unless I’m back inside my body.”

  “Oh my gosh!” Cathy gasped. “Is that the Spellbook?” Her paw pointed to the fireplace mantle.

  Surla jumped, overcome with joy. “I can’t believe she left it out here!”

  “We’ll finally be switched back!” Cathy saw some dust fly when the heavy book was set on the couch next to her.

  Surla flipped through as fast as she could, ruffling and ripping pages as she went. “Hurry,” she told herself. “You’d think it would have an index.” More and more ruffling. “Ah! I think I found it! Here it is. Okay.”

  Cathy and Pussface leaned over the page. Its title read, “BeSwitched Back.” Their hearts pounded with excitement. Once again, Surla was short of breath. “Cathy,” she wheezed, “do you have asthma?”

  “No.” Cathy twitched her right ear. “Just calm down.”

  “Relax,” Pussface interjected. “Take deep breaths.”

  Surla closed her eyes, tilting her head back. “Okay.” She looked back down to the spell and began reading. “If you did not take heed to the Black Cats’ Rule, events have taken speed to pay your toll. So you say you are ready to be once again thee…”

  Just then, the doors of the kitchen flew open, interrupting the magic. Idis glided on a foot of air, leading twelve possessed witches, and three demons without a body.

  Panicked, Surla looked down to the spell, trying to find where she had left off, when suddenly, from out of the fireplace, Idis conjured a massive fire. Its red and blue flames grew and flailed out, giving off tremendous heat. Idis laughed hysterically and the witches echoed her cackle in deep voices.

  “The Spellbook please.” Idis smiled and automatically the old cover slammed shut on Surla’s fingers and was pulled by an unseen force to the fire. “Now that I have this incredible power, I don’t need that old junk anymore. And you know what th
at means, Surla; I won’t be needing you anymore either.” She turned, facing her back to them, as she enjoyed watching the hungry flames eat at the spells.

  “Get out of here Surla and Cathy,” Pussface said quietly. “The front door is right there. Run away as fast as you can.”

  Surla turned to Cathy and then back to Pussface. “But… but now what?”

  “Listen, I have a plan. A really good one. Now if you don’t want to be overtaken by one of those demons, you better get the heck outta here,” Pussface continued.

  Quickly, Surla grasped Cathy in her arms and quietly exited through the front door. The crackling and popping of the fire made it impossible for Idis to notice.

  As Surla ran down the dark, wet streets, she cried, holding Cathy tight. She thought of the couple of weeks before, when she had first jumped through Idis’s window and over a hydrangea bush, calling out, FREEDOM… FREEDOM AT LAST, in her head. Cathy mewed sorrowfully, bumping and shaking, with every step.

  Energy disappeared without notice, making Surla stumble on a sidewalk and fall to the concrete. She wasn’t hurt and neither was Cathy. They just laid back together against a stone wall. Finally finding time to wipe away tears, Surla used both of her forearms. “I want to be me again,” she whimpered.

  “So do I.” Cathy’s yellow eyes were moist. “I don’t care how boring my life is, just as long as I have my life.”

  “I agree. And I don’t like human boys.”

  “But I do.”

  “And I hate that stuff called pizza, although the anchovies weren’t bad.”

  “My favorite food.”

  “What about driving. I would much rather roam and wander on my paws.”

  “I’m supposed to be getting my license soon.”

  The longer they disagreed on likes and dislikes, the dryer their tears were, while their faces became long with the realization that they were never going to be back to themselves.

  Soon they heard loud music. The sadness had drowned out any sound earlier. “You hear that?” Surla sat up and straightened her cat-ear headband.

  “Yeah. It’s called The Monster Mash.” Cathy’s tail stood up. “Oh, how I wish I could dance right now.”

  Surla picked up Cathy and stood to see. They were actually next to the small, segmented stone wall, which wrapped around Revere Park. Guys and girls, dressed scary or exotic, filled the park. A set-up stage was placed at one corner and a banner read over it—Washington and Jefferson High’s Halloween Bash.

  “Cathy!” they heard someone call. It was Todd, walking over to them from a refreshment stand. “Hey, I was hoping you would come.” He leaned in and gave her a warm hug, then scratched under Cathy’s chin. “Hey, it’s Psycho Kitty.” He smiled, showing off his cute dimples.

  “I thought you weren’t able to make it.” Surla worked on fixing her hair as she spoke. All that fighting made her look pretty messy.

  “My sister went trick-or-treating with her friends.” His green eyes looked over her now holey stockings, to the tight black body suit, and landed on her sparkling eyes, which now had mascara runs. “Are you alright?”

  “Uh, not really,” she admitted. “But where’s your costume?” She eyed his black T-shirt, which fit tight around his chest and upper arms.

  “Oh, I didn’t have one, so I just came as myself.” Todd said, as he watched Surla’s eyes widen with sadness. “Do you… wanna dance?”

  “No… not really.”

  At Idis’s, Pussface was sitting at the kitchen’s open window, meowing an alarm to all the other black cats in the town. “Rrrreeeooow! Rrrreeeoooooow!”

  The witches and demons were still standing in the living room, as a vortex sucked from the center of the floor. It looked like a black whirlpool of gases and tar.

  As the vortex bubbled and grew, dozens of black cats were scurrying through the kitchen window and cat door. Even Lenny showed. “I’m here to help, too,” he said to Pussface. “That fight I had with you over Diamond was stupid. I’m sorry it had to happen, man, cuz I know she doesn’t like me anyway.”

  “Hey, it’s okay.” A crooked fang poked out when he grinned. “Help me siren.”

  Soon the kitchen became so full and black with cats, that many were balancing on hanging pots. Pussface said, “I think we’re ready.”

  When they entered the living room, three possessed witches had already stepped into the vortex, disappearing. Gretchen, still possessed, almost stepped in, but stopped when Idis finally noticed all the cats surrounding her and the demons. “Ha, now what’s this?”

  All the felines hissed at once, showing their sharp teeth.

  “You think you all could defeat me?!” She cackled.

  Hooking tails, they were involved in a choreographed spell. The circle, first going clockwise, turned suddenly, hooking tails with the partner to the right of them, continuing counterclockwise, rolling their heads and sticking paws in and out of the circle.

  “Get these foolish cats out of here!” Idis ordered the demons. The witches mechanically spread out, and their laser-red eyes didn’t blink once.

  Gretchen’s overtaken body was heading to Pussface and Lenny, when suddenly, all the cats clustered together. Their fur combined, along with their tails and eyes, into one giant black cat! “You are going to need a bigger demon, to possess this body.” Pussface’s voice came through two foot-long fangs.