This week's sentence was taken from Mikhail Bulgakov's 'The Master And Margarita'.
"Witchcraft once started, as we all know, is virtually unstoppable."
"Witchcraft once started, as we all know, is virtually unstoppable.
As with life itself, when it does finally stop the result is invariably terminal," she paused for effect, “and usually messy."
"So that's kinda like a health warning, right?"
The old woman winced inside but her smile remained relatively benign. She had expected a dour and studious girl but the Wiccan Council obviously knew best. If this was the child they had selected to receive the cumulative magical power of her ancestral line then who was she to argue? Just an old witch about to die.
'What's the worst that could happen?' was her final thought as her soul departed and the door burst open.
"Sorry I'm late." gasped the dour and studious girl, looking up as Emma aimed the wand at her.
"Late indeed, dearie." Grinned the delighted new überwitch.
A dour and studious pool of slime steamed slightly on the doormat.
Emma tried a cackle. Pretty good!
It's amazing the things you can find on the internet, she mused. The last of the real, old school, hardcore witches was about to die and her power would pass to a successor chosen by a bunch of flabby middle-aged women in Stevie Nicks dresses.
Not if I can help it!
Later that evening, Emma surveyed the smoking remains of the Wiccan Council Chamber. Shreds of lacy frock still floated down to alight amidst smashed crystal and charred body parts. The whole place stank of aromatherapy oils. She almost puked.
What to do; what to do?
The world was hers!
War, famine, pestilence and what was the other one? She could never remember but it didn’t matter; she could make it all happen.
And she did.
At the stroke of midnight a whole slew of wars exploded across the peaceful world in an orgy of flame, death and destruction. A previously healthy population was suddenly stricken with everything from cancer to the common cold. Around the globe economies fell splat like fat bankers from tall buildings.
And the worst thing was that thanks to Emma’s spell nobody realised anything had been any different the day before.
Evil unchained rained down upon our innocent and undeserving planet:
Bigotry and hatred
Such curses and calamities as the world had never known.
A voice behind her said, "THAT'S QUITE ENOUGH, YOUNG LADY." and Emma whirled around, aiming her wand and knowing with dreadful certainty that it was suddenly just a stick.
It pointed at Him.
It quivered a little as she trembled.
That was all it could do now.
"IT SEEMS YOU HAVE TO COME WITH ME."
There was something horribly familiar about the figure looming over her.
Emma’s eyes were drawn to His feet.
Cloven hooves? That's not right.
His legs were … er … unfeasibly hairy and …
And as for THAT!
He lazily picked a scrap of skin from one of His horns.
"THERE ARE RULES, YOU SEE."
Emma swallowed hard.