Magic has always captivated the human imagination, with its promise of supernatural abilities and wonder. The concept of harnessing magical superpowers has been a subject of fascination throughout history. From ancient legends to modern-day tales, the allure of extraordinary abilities continues to intrigue us.
As I lie on satin cushions, I think of my old friend. The air contacting my uncovered skin was absolutely still, and the quiet encompassing me had me choking. There is no possibility of reconciliation. This was my new home until everything vanished. I never would have met Amanda, also known as the Witch of Hamilton by the locals, if I had known where I would end up.
Gettyimages
Amanda, a pretty young woman who had just moved to town, was beautiful. Despite her attractive appearance, something more profound, dull, awaited her spirit. These encounters were cut short because they had no choice but to pass her or because she had to pass someone. People would instinctively do everything in their power to avoid her.
The Bewitching Encounter
Concerning me, I was thirteen years old when everything started. On a dare from a friend, I knocked on the witch’s door one day and prepared to flee when she opened it. I waited impatiently for the doorknob to move, but to my dismay, it did not. When I knocked on the door once more, there was silence. I turned my back on the door and started to walk away, disappointed but also relieved. But the door suddenly opened wide, and the most beautiful voice whispered, “Stop,” before I could take another step.
My feet would not leave the surface of her porch, as if by magic, putting me at Amanda’s mercy. I tried desperately to flee, but everything I did was pointless.
She came up on me slowly, and I could feel her breath on my neck. The witch then spoke into my ear, “Why are you leaving so quickly if you have come to visit me?” Stay for some time when you come inside. They began to follow the witch to the door, as if they had their own minds. They didn’t stop until we got into her living room, and they continued to lead me into her house from that point on. Harold, please settle down while I bring you something to drink.
Gettyimages
The Pact of Desperation
I sat down in that chair and sank into its cushion, and I realized that it was more than just my feet that followed her instructions. Amanda came back with a tray containing a red wine decanter and a crystal goblet as my body relaxed in the plush chair. She asked me, “Are you comfortable?” and set the tray on the table next to me. My initial thought was, “Let me go, bitch, and I’ll never meet you again.” My lips, on the other hand, replied, “Yes, I am.” “I’ve been watching you for a long time, Harold, and I’ve chosen you to receive a special gift,” Amanda went on to say. She knelt down next to me and asked, “How would you like to have everything this world has to offer?” Wealth and influence are all yours, readily available. I can give this to you on the off chance that you wish, What do you say?”
I’ve always been on the poor side of town. I would have lived on the other side of the tracks if a train had passed through Hamilton. I can only recall a handful of days when I could rub two quarters together. I considered it a fantasy. I’m being bullied by her. How is it that she could follow through on such a crazy guarantee? Be that as it may, through the entirety of my questions and reservations, avarice thundered to the surface and overwhelmed them all. I then inquired, “What should I do?” The joy in Amanda’s eyes shone brightly. Harold, only two things. Promise to worship me above all others, including your so-called God, by drinking the wine I offer you. I was relieved to find the procedure straightforward after expecting to hear hints of a human sacrifice. I didn’t go to church or anything; after all, who wouldn’t want a glass of wine? In the end, I had nothing but time to waste.
Gettyimages
I was free to run or stay as I turned my head in her direction. I was in complete command of my faculties. I turned back to Amanda after standing with my back to the door. I took her hand and kissed it as I knelt down. Then I said, “I promise you my life.” Amanda emptied the decanter to the brim after removing it from the tray. “I offer you this cup,” she said as she handed it to me. I gulped the elixir down ferociously after pressing the cup’s rim to my lips. However, it seemed to be red wine and had the flavor of severe vinegar. I still took out the cup and gave it to the witch. She whispered, “Go; your future looks bright,” as she returned the cup to the tray. My doubts started to come back as soon as I went outside. I thought it would be fun to laugh about. A fluttering piece of paper wedged in a fence caught my eye as I continued down the street. It turned out to be a lottery ticket, with the numbers drawn the night before when I freed it from its trap. How likely were things? I checked the numbers on that ticket when I took it to the convenience store. When I found out that the ticket was worth a million dollars, I was so close to fainting. I knew that the Witch of Hamilton was the one who blessed me, not God, given how badly I had lived most of my life. When I got home, I promised myself that I would pray for her and express my gratitude to her.
That wasn’t even the start. Since that day, I’ve found cash in shopping mall aisles, played money-giving games in casinos, and even been paid by one of those million-dollar inheritance scams. I quickly discovered how powerful money could make you and how easy life had become. The women I would sleep with got younger, and the line of them waiting to please me got longer as I got older. I was dining with world leaders and bedding their daughters in no time. We soon became dependent on each other because their avarice matched mine. Until one day, when I felt like a sledgehammer had struck my chest, life was beautiful. I remained motionless on the floor until the ambulance arrived. I heard one of the paramedics say, “Call the time of death,” as the others swarmed over me.
Gettyimages
The Haunting Reality Unveiled
“No!” I attempted to yell. However, I had frozen my speech. I was covered in a sheet and placed on a gurney by the medical professionals. I lay there in the dark until the sheet was removed and I was placed on an operating table. I was observed by a doctor alone in a surgical room. He started a recording and said, “I am performing an autopsy on Harold Smith, a portly fifty-seven-year-old white male. “I desperately tried to scream as he pressed the bone saw against my sternum, but it didn’t matter.” As the saw worked its magic, the doctor carefully removed my organs. I didn’t feel any pain, if my predicament had a positive outcome. The specialist played out his obligations rapidly and set me in a cooler. I remained there until the funeral director brought my body out. I was put on display for others to see after some time had passed. I was surprised to find that none of the people I knew from other countries had come to see me, with the exception of Amanda. How much time has passed since I last saw her? Strangely, she appeared to be the same age as she was so many years ago.
Gettyimages
She started talking as she looked down at me. Harold, I’m sure you can hear me. It’s possible that you’re baffled by how this is possible. You see, you lost all hope of eternal life when you turned your back on God. So, after that, what happens to your soul? Simple. Nothing. Even after you die, your soul remains in your body. Harold, you had a good life. It’s over now. Harold, farewell. “Partake in your future.” The Witch of Hamilton vanished without a word, leaving me to die. My soul is still encased in my body, which is now resting in a cold, damp grave after the funeral. Even if someone finds out what happened to me someday, nothing will ever change as long as greed exists in this world.