The Witch’s Familiar

“No. Cream makes you burp worms,” Bethany reminded her familiar Trinket.

His tiny middle finger extended toward her.

Rising above, she bent down to make her offering. A bowl of cream substitute.

She had incantations to finish. He should be assisting, fetching charms.

Swishing around, Bethany’s long skirt displaced dust from the floor. A ground fog that engulfed all seventy-three millimetres of a spluttering Trinket.

His bowl hurtled from the mist towards her. “W-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-itch!”

With drenched hair and soya-based slop oozing down her neck, Bethany negotiated a deal.

Seventy more years serving Satan, for a familiar without the diva complex.

Looking for more spooky fun? Check out these pieces from the MockingOwl Roost.

• One Small Bite – Halloween Poetry
• Chorus of the Waiting – Short Story
• Transcendence – Flash Fiction
• Sleep Paralysis Demon or Religious Trauma? – Flash Fiction
• The Banquet – Flash Fiction

Claire L Marsh

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Claire writes short stories and poems, mainly in the horror or dark fantasy genres. She lives in the Cotswolds, UK with her husband and Phoenix (don’t tell him he’s a kitten. He thinks he’s a mountain lion). She currently works for an organisation that assists police forces nationally, providing support for evidence-based practice. Her background is in forensic psychology, including over nine years lecturing it at postgraduate level. Psychology often creeps into her stories; it could be how someone reacts to trauma or why people don’t intervene if they see violence.

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  Duped, Part 2
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