Her mother had gained her powers by some unknown accident years before, although she never spoke of it. From this Ffion was born naturally possessing her magical gift. This developed as she grew, much to her father's distress, as he did his best to hide both his daughter's and wife’s gifts. Although he accepted their abilities, he was merely a mortal man. He made up for his lack of powers, however, with love and affection for his family.
Ffion began to feel a strange sensation as her mother's spell was meant for her. She fell to her knees, clutching her stomach, as the room started to spin. When it stopped, the world seemed much larger than before.
She continued to look through the gap, when she saw The Witchfinder General enter the kitchen. He noticed the back room door ajar and stepped forward to fully force it open. The door swung wildly hitting Ffion and knocking her over, she sprawled to regain her balance. The Witchfinder bent down and picked her up. Ffion hissed loudly and with a lunge, scratched his face. He flinched trying to protect himself as she wriggled herself free from his grasp. Quickly adapting to her new feline form, she landed on her four new feet. She ran as fast as she possibly could through the front door jumping over the lifeless body of her father, who lay in a crimson pool of blood. She had no time to grieve and she wasn’t safe here so she carried on running, heading for the forest. After a good distance, she took one last solitary glance behind her to find her mother, although she immediately wished she hadn’t. Her mother was set alight on a wooden stake, her flesh charred and deafening screams of pain rising into the red smoke filled sky.
Suddenly and from nowhere, the now-rotting face of the Witchfinder jumped into view.
“I’m coming for you!” He screeched, pointing at Ffion.
Ffion awoke from the painful memory short of breath and tearful; she shook her head trying to get rid of the sight of The Witchfinder General and the sound of her mother’s cries.
She jumped to the window and watched as the sun began to set over the horizon. The church clock was illuminated and read 4.30. She knew that as soon as the last drop of light had disappeared, the trouble would begin.
“Let’s finish this” she thought as she counted down the time.
Unseen by Ffion, a dark shadow loomed around the rear of the old shack. The bright red sun burned Jack’s shadow against the wooden frame. Jack lifted his lantern closely to his face and gazed deeply into it. The lantern’s magic embers revealed Ffion’s dream to Jack.
“So my dear…” he hissed “There is something that you fear after all and I know just where to find it.”
Chapter 9
The grave meeting
Ffion was plagued by her nightmare and felt she had to put the matter to rest whilst she had use of her human form. She wanted to know where The Witchfinder General was buried, so she set her course for the library to check the local history records. By the time she had reached the bottom of the hill, the last ray of light dissolved into the night sky.
After the earlier events, any villagers had either left or barricaded themselves securely in their homes. This also meant that the local hall, which accommodated the library and from which Jack had appeared and escaped earlier, could also be locked. Wandering around the building she was pleased to discover that the back door was still open.
Making her way inside, she saw that it was just as chaotic in there. Tables and chairs had been carelessly thrown around, books had been torn apart and the whole place stood in miserable disarray. Within the hall the fireplace still gave off warmth from the fire that Jack had started. Ffion changed back to her human self to make it easier to sift through the debris to find the information she was seeking. Bathed in the firelight Ffion noticed that the rain began to fall outside drumming against the windows.
The gruelling task of checking book after book after an hour meant that Ffion had only tidied one room. She searched on when, suddenly, a flash of light passed the window. It was a sphere of light to be more exact. What she first thought to be lightening looked now more like the ghostly orbs she had seen earlier disturbing the village. This one, however, was of a golden colour, at least she thought so before her attention was then brought to another, closer cause for concern. A clatter from the balcony above distracted her, it sounded as if something had fallen or was pushed. Ffion looked around but could see nothing. Deciding to resume her reading, as luck would have it, she found exactly what she was looking for. In the dusty hand-scribed pages someone had eulogised the one she sought. She read eagerly about his life and the places he had supposedly cleansed, surprised to discover that this self appointed Witchfinder General, had lived out his last few remaining years in her village and was laid to rest in the local churchyard.
“So you’re here, after all this time I finally know.”
Another clatter rung out from above.
“Hello?” She yelled.
A shadow inked itself against the walls and a nearby window, “Hey who is this?” She asked with an air of caution.
As the sound of footsteps raced across the wooden flooring, Ffion stood up slowly from the table where she sat. She began to creep towards the noise when another drum of footsteps came from behind her. Turning quickly, there was nothing there, then another quick flash of shadow followed. Ffion felt as if a dozen eyes were watching her and, in truth, they probably were. Another race of footsteps came towards her and then stopped abruptly. She jumped back with alarm. Standing no taller than her waist was a nasty looking imp. It's hoofed feet tapped on the floor, as it stood watching Ffion with its goat like yellow eyes sticking out from its elongated and protruding head. She waited to see if it would move again.
A second imp jumped down from the balcony and landed next to her. Ffion turned with magic at the ready, when the first imp snatched the necklace from around her neck with its long pointy fingers. In the blink of an eye, Ffion was back to being a cat. Without her necklace, her magic and hope was lost. Now it was Ffion who was waist high to the imps. They hissed and giggled at her through small and broken razor-sharp teeth. Just before their exit, the first one held up the necklace triumphantly then disappeared into the black stormy night. Ffion, now seemingly powerless, had only one thing she could do; chase them.
The imps had headed east towards the bridge over the river, aiming for the cemetery. Ffion followed in pursuit, trying to keep up as best she could. As they reached the church grounds, she watched them run between gravestones and then disappear behind a large marble crypt. High up above them all, the church clock struck 6 o’clock. On the sixth chime, Ffion took a deep nervous breath before she entered the sacred ground where she now knew The Witchfinder lay. She examined each stone for his location, the Imps and her necklace would have to wait, just for now. A strange scratching noise sounded from the other side of the graveyard, like fingernails dragging on a chalkboard making Ffion shudder.
“Another damn distraction” she screeched as she went to find out what this noise was. Moving to investigate she realised that The Witchfinder's grave was now in front of her and low and behold, Jack was standing behind it. She then noticed that the Imps she had been chasing lay dead at his feet. He had been scraping his fingers against the headstone as if to lure her in. In his other bony hand he clasped her necklace which he had taken from the creatures when he killed them.
Aglow from his lantern, Jack took a side step around the grave towards her.
“I knew you’d come and you didn’t let me down. There’s something I want to give you.”
“There’s only one thing I want from you JACK!” she spat, “My necklace!”
“Tut Tut! and here I was, working so hard on my gift for you.” he turned his gaze to the necklace, “I merely borrowed your pretty little kitty collar to get you here.”
“Gift?” said Ffion not quite following Jack’s maniacal plan.
The ground by Jack’s feet started to tremble and shift.
“If I’m not mistaken…” he said with excitement, “Your gift should be here right... about...
.now!”
Ffion looked hard at the ground.
“I thought it’d be nice for you to see an old family acquaintance Ffion” he chuckled loud and hard.
The headstone of The Witchfinder cracked and broke apart. The earth where he was buried vibrated and the loosened wet soil pushed upwards followed by an outreached skeletal hand.
“NO! What have you done?” Shouted Ffion.
A second hand burst out from the grave pulling it's body upward finally revealing the Witchfinder’s head.
“What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy to see him again, it’s what you wanted isn’t it?” said Jack, clearly enjoying Ffion’s dismay.
A burst of energy filled the Witchfinder's body then flew from the grave and seemed to scream as the General awakened. The power rumbled across the floor, churning the dirt and toppling every headstone like dominoes. It travelled like a wave toward Ffion, catching her off guard until she was swept off her feet, violently hitting her head against a gravestone knocking her out cold.
Nearby, George and Arnie had been searching for Ffion. They had heard the commotion coming from the cemetery and decided to investigate. When they arrived they were shocked to see the rotten body of The Witchfinder closing in on Ffion.
“Hey Arnie, wanna catch a bone?” Arnie ran over to Ffion and, guarding her body with his massive size, he started to bravely bark at the decaying corpse coming towards them.
“Ffion! Hey Ffion!” yelled George “Come on, we gotta get outta here!” Ffion woke, shook off the pain in her head and clambered onto Arnie’s back, grabbing on to his collar and fur. He ran fast and hard to get them out of the hellish situation.
‘WOOF!’ he bellowed to George signalling that it was time to leave.
‘I don’t know what’s going on, but this village has gone nuts!’ remarked George. ‘Let’s get her back to safety and quick!’
Not even looking back, the two friends with Ffion barely hanging on ran out of the church grounds and off up the hillside towards the forest seeking cover.
The General watched as the animals disappeared into the thick mist that smothered the forest edge. His bones clicked and tendons stretched and squeezed as he turned his gaze to Jack.
“And how will I find her now?” The General gargled with what little remained of his throat.
“With this!” answered Jack, throwing the necklace to the General, who caught it in his skeletal grip, a toothless grin on what was left of his face. “Keep it close and she’ll come looking for you.”
Chapter 10
Friends together
Ffion opened her eyes and everything started to come back into focus. Her two friends were standing by her.
“Where, where are we?” asked Ffion.
“Well…err…remember a few summers ago that scout group made a tree house around the base of one of the big oaks…well ta-dah! Who thought it would have come in use, eh? Eh?” nudged George trying to make light of a very dark situation.
“Don’t worry about Jack, he won’t find this place, the fog was just too thick, and it was easy to lose the lumbering fool” said George trying to reassure his friend. Ffion, however, still looked understandably concerned.
“What happened to my home? Why aren’t we there?”
George paused, thinking of how to phrase his next words. Outside a cold bitter wind whistled through any gaps in the hut.
“Well… we went there to find you around sunset but you had already left. Someone else was there too…”
“Jack? Was it Jack?”
“Yeah, he was there alright” said George and he paused again to look away from Ffion.
“What? What did he do George?”
“He tore the place down to the ground with that pumpkin thing he holds. Ffion, I am so, so sorry…” he bowed his head.
Thoughts ran through her brain, there was little time left and she needed to concentrate.
“The Book of Spells! Where is my mother’s book?”
“Don’t worry we got that covered, brought that here with us, it’s over there in that box.” George pointed to the corner of the room with his little head.
Ffion’s head throbbed again reminding her she had been unconscious.
“How long was I out?” she asked.
“After you got back here its been about an hour,” replied George “So who was the zombie?”
“He’s coming for me and I reckon he’ll have my necklace now” came the reply as she climbed to her feet.
“He? Who? What’s going on? What happened back there? Come on Ffion, we deserve answers!”
Ffion’s tone became irritate and defensive.
“The Witchfinder General is here. The man who killed my parents. Jack has brought him back to get me!”
“Listen Ffion, we are you friends, let us help you. We can stop him together…”
“No!” Ffion shot George down. “Not without my necklace, it’s too dangerous.”
“Dangerous for who? You? Me? Arnie? Tell me, please, cause I’m dying to know” said George matching Ffion’s frustration. “And, might I add, you’re the one who just got rescued!”
“This is my one shot”
“One shot? At what? Losing your friends? Stop being so human headed! We’re all involved now, not just you! What, nothing to say?” George turned to walk away. “Fine! Have it your way, be all by yourself. But you know what? There’ll be a time you need your friends and they won’t be there!”
Arnie looked over at Ffion and gave a whimper of concern.
“Come on Arnie, we know when we not wanted.”
“Woof!” said Arnie sadly and went to join George.
Ffion watched her friends walk into the foggy night, George’s voice fading as they got further away.
Ffion lowered her head and sobbed. She was all alone. She was deeply upset to learn that her once loved and happy home was now destroyed and equally for pushing her best friends away.
“I’m sorry” she whispered, “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
She turned slowly and headed out to the forest to see the remains of her home. George and Arnie hadn’t gone far, they were true friends and had hidden by a tree to watch over her.
“Ffion, we’re your friends, why don’t you let us help?” George said watching Ffion leave. Nothing more was said for a moment until Arnie started to whimper and moan feeling uncomfortable and awkward.
“Okay, we’ll keep following her but let's keep out of sight until she really needs us. Okay Arnie?” Arnie barked in acknowledgement and licked George's face in agreement.
Chapter 11
The Witchfinder
Ffion wandered morosely through the rubble of the old shack, which she had called home for many years. Deep in thought and reflection, she hadn’t heard the commotion stirring again down in the village below. She stopped for a moment to stare at her feline reflection in a puddle.
“Hi there me…This could be the last time we see each other, so what do we do now? We’ve had a good few centuries and done almost anything that can be done as a cat…How easy would it be just to find a nice spot and stay there until we just disappear? Having never existed properly, nobody would really miss us, or… do we carry on now that we are so close? Shall we save the day and break the spell? Nothing to say for yourself eh?”
The puddle rippled as a soft breeze blew across its surface and a hazy figure of a man appeared behind her reflection.
“Fight on Ffion, be brave and free yourself. No matter what, I love you…my daughter.”
“Father!”
For a second Ffion’s heart lifted only to be lost again as she searched in the puddle, desperate for another glimpse. Moving closer, she hit out with a paw at the water trying to bring back the vision so that she might look upon her father's face once more. But there was nothing, the ripples faded and became still, as she sat in the wet grass with tears welling up in her eyes. Upon the ground next to her she noticed a faint light, she thought it odd
as the sun had now set and there were no other light sources on the hillside to cause it. She wiped her eyes with a paw catching a glimpse of her shadow upon the floor and that of a man’s next to her. She turned quickly expecting to see him standing there but there was no-one to be seen except for a brief glimmer of light disappearing into the forest fog, much like the glowing orb she had seen before, back at the library window.
Ffion picked herself up and began walking into the rolling fog that seeped between the forest trees with her head held high. She walked down the hillside encouraged by her father’s words still echoing in her head and heart.
The village streets were deserted and eerily silent. Neither creature nor mouse could be seen or heard and the few scared villagers that remained cowered indoors with locked windows and bolted doors. The black night's rain had stopped and the moon was full, the quietness was unnerving. An unexpected voice gave her a surprise and she turned around.
“Good day to you witch. Did I come at a bad time?” It was The Witchfinder. “I now see that your mother was more devious than I had previously anticipated. Who would have guessed that such a vile, godless creature could spawn a child?” He hissed through his exposed teeth, his physical appearance letting moonlight pass through the holes in his body as he stood in the dark.
“Show yourself murderer! I will more than gladly place another scar on your face!”
“Angry words from such an insignificant creature, hardly deserving of the beating your mother was given before she admitted her guilt.”
He walked into view.
“Why you…”
“Looks like Jack was right. You did come looking for this didn’t you?” he held out his spindly wrist that had Ffion’s necklace wrapped around it.
“What’s the matter, witch? Still can't seem to find everything you are looking for? Here, let me help you!”