The Human, the Witch and the Were

Turning Point

"Kayla, I need you to come with me on an errand," Papa said, standing in her doorway. She looked at him warily. Her Papa hadn't spoken to her this nicely in six months. She wondered what he wanted.

"OK," she said. "Let me just get my purse."

"Don't worry, you won't need anything,” Papa replied, nervously shuffling from one foot to another.

The shuffling unnerved her as it always did but she figured it was just another side effect of the drug addiction. Besides, here was a chance to have a conversation with her dad that might not actually end with her copping a punch in the face. It has been a year since Mama died and Papa didn't seem to be recovering at all, in fact if anything he seemed to be getting worse.

They headed out to Papa's beat up old car. They used to have a nice Honda, but Papa sold that about four months ago. He didn't say why but she knew. She'd known from day one where all their possessions and money were going.

  ***

  "So, where are we going?" Kayla asked her dad.

"Oh, I just have to meet some people and thought it might be nice if you came with me to have some father/daughter time. We haven't had much of that lately."

Kayla looked at her Papa and bit back the pointed comment she’d been about to say. It would only make him angry and lash out at her.

"OK," she said.

"You know, I've appreciated everything you've done for me, and Beccy since your Mama died. I haven't exactly been myself and I do appreciate everything."

"That's OK Papa. I know it hasn't been easy for you either. I just did what I had to."

Kayla looked at her Papa. He was right, he hadn't been himself. But she guessed the drugs will do that to you. Before Mama died, Papa had been full of life and vitality. He'd worked as a high school science teacher and regularly went to the gym three times a week. He had looked good for his age. Now his body was emaciated and wasting away. His hair, which used to be dark and thick with only a hint of grey had become lank and greasy. He had black circles under his eyes and his teeth were yellowing.

Kayla had gone to work at the local McDonalds four nights a week to make sure Beccy had dinner and lunch for school. That, and to ensure the utilities stayed on. It had been difficult with her veterinary studies and working so many hours, but it was necessary. Papa had stopped work after Mama died and he'd blown through their life savings once his addictions really kicked in. It had been hard, but she'd told herself it would all be worth it in the end when Papa kicked the habit, and they could resume some form of a normal life. Kayla thought to herself that maybe this was the turning point.

Well, it certainly was a turning point. Just not quite the turning point she expected.

***

Phillip had gone out on business for the night, and she wasn't moving quite so gingerly, so Kayla decided to check out the new girls. The compound was a huge rectangular structure with thirty-five cells around the outer wall and a courtyard in the centre. Each cell had one-way mirrored glass so the girls could be observed without being seen. Each cell was equipped with a bed, a chest of drawers and a small bathroom off to the side with a sink, shower, and basin. The chest of drawers held the clothes (lingerie) that the girls were given once they arrived at the compound and the bathroom held all their toiletries. Hygiene was of the utmost importance and the girls were expected to shower numerous times during the day as well as brush their teeth and apply a full face of makeup. It made sense really, no-one would pay money to f**k a slapper.

There was one door at the front of the cell and another door at the rear that led to the courtyard. A bridge ran from the main entrance across the top of the courtyard where an armed guard patrolled, ready to shoot anyone that tried to escape.  One corner of the compound held a kitchen and communal dining area. Phillip's office was to the left of the main entrance and her room was just off to the side of his office, a room that seemed to have been built almost as an afterthought. The only way in and out was through the main door and past a plethora of armed guards.

The compound wasn't visible from the main house and Phillip's wife Mariella had on inclination to visit. On the rare occasions she was home she never left the house except to go shopping. Kayla was amazed at how dense Mariella really was. The woman was the daughter of a Mafia boss, and she had a degree in political science, yet she had no idea what was going on in her own backyard and that her husband was playing both hands at the table.

The cells were only a temporary stop whilst the girls became adjusted to their new 'life'. Once they had come to terms with their fate and had been sufficiently broken in, they were shipped off to one of the brothels Phillip ran in various cities. She always wondered why Phillip had decided to keep her and not w***e her out. And why he felt the need to inflict the tortures that he did. After the first six months she had been too scared to move unless he told her to, let alone provide any sort of resistance. It was really only over the last year she'd become a little more confident moving around the property as Phillip had increasingly stopped paying her much attention.

She passed the first few cells without so much as a sideways glance. These four girls had come in with the last batch and were taking a little longer to adjust. Kayla shuddered. She had been forced the witness the breaking in of the new girls’ numerous times and it was hard enough to watch, let alone suffer through it. The fact that these girls still resisted gave her some idea of their tenacity.

The next four cells were empty, and she when she came to the first of the new girls, she gave them only a cursory glance. They were pretty standard in terms of the girls that usually came in. Young, slim, pretty and of varying ethnicities. Phillip was first and foremost a businessman and you have to cater for all types, right?

She stopped at the next cell. This was quite obviously one of the new vamp girls. Kayla could hear her growling and cursing in an unknown language. She had spiky blonde hair, pale bloodless skin, black eyes with circles underneath and the unearthly beauty that only the undead could possess...and three-inch battle fangs on full display. Vamps tended to stay calm and collected and the fact that this one was throwing punches into the wall only proved just how pissed she was. Kayla wondered who was stupid enough to have traded her for a clean slate. She certainly wouldn't have wanted to be in their shoes if this vamp escaped.

The next cell held the other new vamp. She was what Kayla knew vamps to be like. Cool, calm and collected. Her long brown hair hung down her back and her eyes held nothing but contempt for her surroundings. She was calmly studying her nails as if she wasn't sitting captive in a shoe box sized cell. Kayla moved on. The stillness of the vamp unnerved her. It wasn't natural to show such little emotion, but then what did she expect from something dead?

The Were was easy to spot. She was short, muscular, and not reacting well to the confined space at all. Kayla thought she would wear a hole in the floor the number of times she paced back and forth. She was growling to herself and curling and uncurling her fists, occasionally running her hands through her short dark brown hair. Kayla caught the words "bastard, kill him, rip his throat out, castrate..." Again, not someone Kayla wanted to be if the were ever got her hands on him.

They had pulled into a secluded copse of trees off the main highway. There were five men in suits standing by a black van, waiting for Papa and Kayla. She didn't quite know what to expect, so she turned to Papa and said she'd wait in the car.

"I need you to get out now Kayla," Papa said with a strange look on his face.

She got out reluctantly. Not because she was naive or oblivious to the danger of her surroundings but because she was with her Papa, and she trusted him to ensure that she wouldn't get hurt.

She couldn’t have been more mistaken.

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her over to the men.

"I've come to pay my debt," Papa said shoving Kayla forward.

She could only stare at her Papa, comprehending but at the same time not. This was her Papa, he was supposed to protect and love her, not use her to pay off drug debts.

"Does this cover it?" Her Papa couldn't, no, wouldn't look her in the eye.

The leader of the group, whom she soon learned was Phillip, looked her up and down with a smirk.

"She'll do... for now. Your slate is clean."

At that moment Kayla started screaming for her Papa to help her, knowing at the same time he was the reason she was being taken away.

She was screaming right up until they pistol whipped her in the back of the head.

***

Kayla passed by the rest of the girls without pausing. It only made her more depressed the longer she stopped to stare. There was nothing she could do for them, and she really didn't want to dwell on their future fate. She was coming to the end of the cells when the temperature dropped. Kayla looked around but couldn't see any reason for it so she continued, albeit at a slower pace. The closer she got to the last cell the colder it became, until it was almost unbearable.

She forced herself to continue, her teeth chattering by the time she got to the end cell. She thought Greta said the witch was hiding her presence. If anything, this was a walking advertisement shouting "I'm a witch, I'm a witch." Mama had always said she was a sensitive, the name they gave people who could instantly detect what species someone was. She didn't think much of it as she thought it was pretty obvious. If they looked dead, they were a vamp. If they were muscular and angry, they were a Were. If they were a beautiful airhead, then they were a fairy. Trolls were tall, ugly, and smelt bad. Dwarves were short, wide, and hairy. Simple really. Kayla stopped for a moment and reconsidered that. Actually, she decided, if someone looked dead, they were either a vamp or a drug addict.

Kayla stopped to study the witch. She was sitting in the middle of the bed with her legs crossed and her head down. Her long red wavy hair hung down, covering her face. Kayla imagined she would have green eyes. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the witch raised her head and stared straight at her. Those green eyes froze her in place. It was almost as if the witch knew she was there, which was not possible. She couldn't see through the mirrored glass, could she?

But then again, she was a witch. Witches were the most dangerous of the supernaturals because they were the unknown. Vampires, Weres, trolls, fairies, dwarves all had the same tendencies, all the same strengths and all the same weaknesses. Witches were in a class of their own. Each witch had different abilities, different strengths, and different weaknesses. You never knew what you were going to get when you confronted a witch. Whoever traded her must have been very much in debt and very close to her because there is no way this witch would have been taken by a stranger.

Kayla turned and headed back to her room. What she had seen had unnerved and excited her. Four supernaturals! She hoped Phillip had brushed up on his boxing skills because it looked like he was going to have a few fights on his hands. Kayla smiled. The show was about to start, and she had a ringside seat.