Scary Stories For Witches
Horror For The Rest Of Us
Ever notice the great pagan-themed horror out there today? Yeah, I didn't either. Let's face it. Either the hero ain't one of us, or the story ain't written by one of us. Well my little darlings, the wait is over. I figure we deserve horror tales where our choice of Deity comes through to help us out. Let's show the rest of the world that we love the light as much as they do. We just arrive at it with a lot more class and magic. Plus who better to know what the bad guys deserve? No hokey last minute saves, brainless bimbos, or snarky teens here. Just the pagans and the bad guys, guess who wins? Even though all my stories are magical non-magical pagans and everyone else is always welcome.
As always, all photography and writing are my original work. Like the intro photo? An edit of my own pic, enjoy! All videos are included for informative and educational reasons only. The first is a chant to welcome you and honor Goddess, the second is a basic Wicca video. If you own the copyright to either video and want additional links and credits, or something remove, please let me know.
Wiccan Goddess chant
Dare You Visit Blood Cabin?
There once was a cabin deep in the mountains of Pennsylvania. Nobody ever stayed there too long. Not even the remote pagan people living deep in the mountains would touch it. The land has never been right. You could feel the wrongness, if you had the gift. Barren, a worse color than broken slate that tears up bare feet like little cat claws, the few remaining trees were dead, and weird things happened there. Somehow though, a cabin was built.
Now evil people had died there before in the cabin, gone mad, claimed to see things. The "lucky" ones spoke a strange language no one ever heard before. That's before they got violent and did terrible things to themselves. The land was deemed cursed, and local children were told in circle never to go there. After all, if only evil people lived there, who wanted a child around that cabin? So it was no surprise when a semi-local man of evil repute did move in.
He had done terrible things to people and animals. Things so bad the law had to invent new names for it. Mercifully no color photographs of his victims ever showed up in court. Due to a loophole, he walked. The day he arrived treasured cats were taken indoors for the night. Well, he and the cabin were a matched set. Both seemed to reek of evil and isolation. He lived there for many months, poaching, stealing, then vanished.
It took a while, but people do pity even the worst of men. A local PowWow went to the cabin and knocked. He waited a seemly time, then opened the door. There was no smell, and he didn't see the man, well what was left of him, until the door was opened wide. The sunlight played almost merrily on the perfect pyramid before him. The killer had been cut into pyramid slices. Bones, organs, everything, in perfect pyramid. No mess, no sliding. It just wasn't natural and the PowWow shivered.
Then he noticed the blood. As if it had been saved for that very purpose, it was liberally spread on the walls making the strangest symbols he had ever seen. They weren't runes, nor trail signs, nor astrological or angelic script. They were nothing, yet horrible to behold. Something whispered of black cats and power in those symbols. Trembling, but keeping his head, he recited a quick prayer to the Goddess and took mental note of the strange symbols. He then fled the cabin, never to return. When some other locals did brave the cabin the body and symbols were gone.
The Goddess Is Ever Present
A New Generation Of Fear
Years went by, and some outsiders moved in to the cabin. They played loud music, and tried to outdo one another in wickedness. They were so evil it was as if the cabin had reached down into Hell for them. Man and woman, they terrorized the locals with violence. Then nothing. Once again, the cabin became cold and quiet. None of the locals cared, but some boys did get curious.
One happened to be the grandson of the PowWow. He saw two pyramids of flesh as his grandfather had described. And the strange symbols were again drawn in blood. With so much more to use, a crude key had been drawn. The boys quickly took pictures of the symbols with their cellphones before running for help. When the police arrived, the bodies and symbols were gone.
But the local coven did figure out the place had been cursed long ago from the symbols. Lucky for them one member was a retired professor who could read the symbols, which were a crude proto-type of hieroglyphics. Shivering she spoke:
"Seems a loving and giving witch had been falsely tried and burnt by outsiders there. The local coven had adopted her... and preformed a crossing ceremony in her honor. Wait, let me start with her story:"
"A foreign woman, she had been drawn from the sands of Egypt to the cool mountains. She adored the local cougars, and was often seen in the company of one or more of them. She alone could take a suckling cub from the wild mother to safely admire. At the height of her power, all felines and animals were safe."
"But even priestesses get old. Blind, forgetful, and with only a young local girl to care for her, she made an easy target. She'd been drug out of her cabin, but not without a last resort. A priestess of Bastet, she vowed her revenge on all future evil men who came there. Though her prayer was jumbled, the Divine Feline indeed heard, and responded. The men who burned her were soon torn apart by mountain lions, sealing the curse with their evil blood."
The entire group wept, and shivered. Another ceremony was held, and prayers and spells said. A feeling of peace came over the group, but it was clear the cabin would never be normal again.
People Never Learn, Do They?
So when a perverse group moved in, they weren't missed for some time. When they were found in neat pyramids and strange symbols covered the walls, floor and ceiling, the locals just shrugged and went back to circle. They were surprised though, when the next morning revealed an abundant field of catnip where the cabin once stood. A gigantic black cat, some say a black puma, seemed to salute the villagers, then faded away.
Witchcraft And Magic
This is a fairly good view of Wicca, although many of the paths mentioned may not be Wiccan per se. But you do get a sense of history and an idea of what the British and other witches consider modern practices. No, nothing ground-breaking, but at least Witchcraft in a positive light.
There is also a part on modern New Orleans voodoo featuring the Baron Samedi. Yes a lot is done in the typical view of us being weird or spooky. But the elements used here are true for at least some practitioners.
And t'is fun sometimes to scare those who would abuse the Craft away.
The Ouija Board
The Ouija Board
Carla had always loved magic. Heck, she had to; growing up a witch. She loved teaching her friends about it too. But there is always that one person who has to ruin it for everyone else. One parent started a fool rumor that her son had fell on the playground because of Carla. Before you knew it, she had only one non-pagan friends.
Carla was sad, but she knew this showed her who her real friends were. So she played with the pagan and Wiccan friends, and one Christian friend, she had left, and was happy. She also sensed that something magical would come out of all of this.
Spooky To The Rescue!
One day not long after, her black cat Spooky led Carla to her closet. His eyes gleamed happily as she took out the old ouija board her grandmother had passed down to her. She could pick up mental images from him of her grandmother. Spooky purred all the louder, knowing she "heard" him.
Carla laughed. "How could I forget she gave this to me, Spooky? You're right, grandma did love me, and I need to talk to her right now." After centering and casting a protective circle, she took time to admire the board. Wooden, it gleamed in the light. She loved the smell of the wood polish, the wonderful satiny feel of the wood. And she really needed to talk to grandma now.
Soon the planchette flew over the letters and grandmother soothed her frazzled nerves.
"Grandma, I'm scared. Why is everybody so mean to me right now?"
"Because of fear, my child. But you will be safe. Goddess and Her hounds protect you. The God holds you in His strong arms. My little witch will be just fine."
Carla giglled. Grandma always called her little witch. The planchette went on to reveal that she was going to loose something of value, and would think it was lost to her. But it would return. Carla was so happy she didn't even think it odd when the other children asked her to bring the ouija in near Halloween. Hey, our girl didn't give up on activism, just because she lost some non-pagan friends.
So Clara was super happy when her mom baked up witchy cupcakes with orange frosting and bat sprinkles. Cute little witch hat rings were on the top. She had so much fun at the party and for once the other kids got to know her again. So she had friends once more, and games, and so many other nice things.
But at the end of the day, her beloved ouija board was gone. Remembering granny's warning she was sure whoever stole it was about to have a Halloween they'd never forget.
The Wickedest Man In The World
Brian panted and rushed into the kitchen. "Here Mom! I stole the stupid board for you. You really gonna burn it?" His mother snatched the board, and threw it into the fireplace.
"Let's just see her do her evil tricks without a board." His mother sneered. Very unbalanced woman, yes?
Well of course burning the board did no good at all. But the master craftsman who had carved the board sat up straight in the afterworld. Too bad for the neurotic mother it was Aleister Crowley. He grinned his devilish grin, then looked into her mind. My the garbage she though of all day long! And against innoccent witches too. Time for a lesson in manners.
And what scary lesson in manners did she and that wicked boy get? Why they were drug right into the very hellish afterlife they wished and cursed upon others. The things the devils could do with hot pokers and tongs. The screams for mercy that wicked woman cried, but in vain. She was merely being meted out the favors her dark heart won her.
Crowley meanwhile danced about in joy. This was far better than any of his adults-only erotic rites. Who knew that astral realm magic could make people see things? If these two fools weren't careful, he might just keep their minds locked here forever.
You can be very sure that after the lesson was learned she returned to this plane. Humbled and wiser she never did bother our sweet little Carla again. As for our itty biity witch, her board had returned to her on Halloween's witching hour. As for where Crowley found real devils I don't rightly know. Guess he wasn't kidding when he called himself the wickedest man in the world.
The demon keeper here is a young witch. (You don't find this out to about the end.)
The main part of the film involves a huckster who puts on a ritual to call up a demon. Asmodeus, I believe. Who is the demon chief or lone demon that captured Solomon's ring. Yes, the one that used demons to build a temple. Luckily a real witch, well, clairvoyant is around. Although he fails to save the cast from slaughter, he does read the tome the spell was in.
From the tome, somehow we are reminded of the opening scene and find out the witch who was burned, was really protecting the town. Oops. We see her toasted alive, which of course releases the power of the demon to kill all assembled. Kind of poetic justice. We also learn that our young witch used Solomon's ring shortly before capture. She had called the demon into her body, then trapped him by putting the ring on. You see all this at the very end, of course.
When our modern day occultic hero does the same thing it works. Sadly he is taken away to bedlam. Which means? Right! His ring will be removed once he's checked in.
Disclaimer: He's Actually a Nice Guy!
Once there was a pan-pagan shop owner with serious problems. The traditionalists hated the New Age stuff. The latent hippies hated the heavy duty stuff. Everyone seemed to find fault and the poor man was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. One night after closing he threw himself down in despair. Madly, he called upon Loki to give him the gift to charm customers.
I say madly because he just asked, right like that. He wasn't careful enough to think about what Loki might do. And goodness knows, a trickster is one to watch your words with.
Be Careful What You Cast For
The very next day, there was a brightly wrapped gift in front of his store. Before he could even touch it, customers were howling behind him to be let in. They bought out the entire store in less than a day. They cleaned out his huge storeroom in two. On the third day, he was just putting in some antiques he'd collected over the years. Hey, he had bills to pay and those crystals balls never did work for him.
That day, oddly enough only one man came in. He was dressed in a gray cape. With only his steely grey eyes showing. A bit dramatic and risque for any pagan, the owner thought, but customers are customers. The man inclined his hooded head and crinkled his eyes in merriment.
"Thank you so much for calling on me like that!" His voice hissed. "So many people are far too careful. You never set a price, so I may have whatever I want. And from you, I want nothing. But your customers on the other hand. Hm, I just might have to visit them in circle. Won't that be fun?" The words hung in the air. What had he done? Let Loki of all the tricksters out on free reign?
The shop owner regretted his words and the stupid gift. It had turned out to be empty! But how to undo the damage? Before he could speak, even more customers flooded the store. Loki however, was gone. Now the man wanted to scream for them to run, and could not. He struggled to refuse sales, but was compelled by Loki's potent gift to take them. At the end of the day he really did have a nervous breakdown.
Well this delighted Loki to no end. He wasn't really going to any circles, he just liked driving people crazy. To think mortals wished for Divine Madness, then drooled and rocked when they got it. Pity. Seeing the fun at an end, he vanished. Yes, leaving a mess behind as usual. So he wasn't there when the frightened shop owner blurted out a name prayerfully. Too bad he said "Met Kalfou" instead of "Ma'at I need you". Wouldn't you know that he was answered. And all of voodoo hell broke loose. Well, they don't have a hell, but plenty of evil souls and spirits roamed free. They possessed the living, those the zombies didn't get to first.
Real spooky Romero re-animated dead zombies too. They ate a bunch of folks brains and gee, the whole town just got ate up or possessed. The Goddess of course had enough of such foolishness and leveled the entire town with a blast from the heavens.
Loki, God of Mischief
Loki of course denied the whole thing. Legend has it he is still trying to hide the gift that started everything. So beware of pretty packages that just show up on your doorstep. Or be more specific when you open them. Goddess only knows what would happen if you said: "I'm so happy the world can end tomorrow."
Some Films - I smile and rejoice
Whether it was the intent or not, sometimes good witches and pagans come out of top. I know al lot of these films if not all are offensive to real Wiccan views, but at least they tried. After all some folks might practice this way for all we know. Blessed Be!
PS Don't try any of this crazy stuff or Goddess will zap your butt with the three-fold law. Because you know better, that's why.
Calm down. Yes, the lead "bad" witch is a horrible example of the craft. And yes, they really screw up even Wicca 101 stuff. But this movie does have some good points. For one, even if she is bad, we can see how the coven leader got that way.
Also, she is us in a way. C'mon, we've all met stupid people who do deserve to get zapped. We don't do it, but we want to. Sure the magic she uses is Hollywood nonsense, but she does kill off people more evil than her.
She also protects a girl from being raped and is almost burnt alive. That said, because we are nice little pagans, we side with good witch. Who can do real witchcraft and learns all about coven law real fast.
My pet peeve is that although mentioned, the three fold law never happens to bad folks. In the end evil witch is still alive and in power. That is either bad editing or just how horror films are headed.
Ogu Meets Freddy
Yeah, my own pic, I spared no expense.
A story for the African spirits this time. As matter of fact, this one is payment and a soothing balm to some injured ancestor spirits. No offense is meant as I assure you I had to craft this one quickly to avoid a detonation from some of my more jealous spirits.
Lwa Of War
The huge lwa frowned as he leaned over his charge's shoulder. More of this Freddy Krueger garbage. She had been working on the site for hours. Now she watched films, and You Tube videos. Growling softly, he addressed her.
"What do you want with this skinny white boy for, woman? Black men aren't good enough for you? You regret marrying your spirits because they are black?"
His wife noted he had his traditional Santeria form this time. His hand worked his machete hilt and his long grass skirt rustled from his agitation. "You say that about every white man I happen to glance at. Remember you are the one who let's Bawon get away with his blanc jokes. Serve you right if I ran away with Freddy. What would you do then, ha!" She was teasing, something Ogu never took well.
"I hunt you down and kill you and your little white boy! Don't test me woman." He snarled in her ear. The woman should have reassured him how wonderful and manly he was. Should have lit a candle and sang his songs. But she did nothing but observe Freddy.
Behind her, the skeletal Bawon and red robed Legba also frowned. Beloved as she might be, if this went on it would be time to teach her the meaning of "eating her up".
Never Neglect Your Lwa
Weeks went by and the woman neglected her lwa. The water and offerings went stale, no candle burned. Every bit of her waking and sleeping energy was going right into this Freddy obsession. She had even gone so far as to remove a few altars and set up a Freddy niche.
Her lwa were frantic, literally pinging off walls in frustration. They simply wanted their child back. White as she was, they had chosen her. This was family, and family simply did not walk away from the ancestors like this.
At first they were very nice about it. They purred or sang out greetings to her. They dropped small tokens at her feet. They let her smell see, and briefly touch them. She didn't bat an eye. They destroyed their own altars out of rage and misery over the rolling months of neglect.
When the foolish woman publicly declared she had no lwa, that was it. They would take the one thing that meant everything, this precious Freddy Krueger.
The woman meanwhile very much a practicing witch had output so much energy she managed to draw the spirit of Freddy Krueger into her dreams. It was one of those multiple world things and she drew him in from where he was real, OK?
Although Freddy's first impulse was to kill he was too clever for that. A world of over seven billion souls for him to claim, and this witch let him in without realizing it. He began to stalk her just enough, gave her what she wanted. Spoke honeyed words so she'd trust him.
Freddy was on the verge of having her promise him the world when the disgruntled lwa showed up. The witch looked around in surprise. Oh yeah, she did have lwa at one time. Ogu shot her a murderous glance, his whole red and black clad body shook with his rage and his machete raised in an arc.
Coming toward her roaring in kreyol, she realized this was it. He was going to kill her and nothing had happened. Well, except the whole neglect thing. But he merely flung her out of the way to reach his real target.
Freddy was struggling to free himself, but the Bawon had knocked him down and Legba's staff pinned him by the throat. Against real power, he was useless. The spirits seethed in anger.
"How dare you touch out little blanc? She ours. She our wife. Get your own." Hissed Bawon. He wanted to flay the man alive right before her, but Legba had taken her to a place halfway into Guinee and hidden her there.
Being so fast, he appeared not to have moved at all. He leaned heavier on his staff. "She calls me Legba, but you can call me Eshu of the cemetery. You picked the wrong girl to mess with. You will pay for looking at my wife."
"Get him up, now!" Ogu roared. Rough hands picked Freddy up, but no power was needed to pin him to the wall. His powers were all gone, he could not even speak. Bug-eyed, he watched as Ogu approached. He had no idea what these things were, but they were going to kill him in this world if he didn't escape.
Ogu's mouth opened to reveal rows of hyena teeth. His eyes were molten yellow, and his body was changing. Animal laughter, like that of a hyena on the prowl spilled from him. I cannot for reasons of a g-rating reveal all that went on that night.
But as true evil never dies you can be sure Freddy stayed in his own patch of reality where people don't have angry ancestors to watch over them.
As for the woman? Legba stole all memory of Freddy anything from her. The site became one for the spirits, all through an instant of his will. All the altars were restored and used once more. Her lwa settled down to enjoy life as usual. Then she found the Michael Myers site.
Wiccan Horror Reads
Temple of Bastet
Enter The Temple
Ok, this one is a bit odd, having made it up for Bastet. But she loves it and wanted it published.
One a long time ago in Egypt the temple of Bastet buzzed with excitement. The Lady herself had been seen as a gigantic black cat in the inner temple. The priests and priestesses danced in joy, and the temple cats seemed more regal than usual. Only as this is a horror story, you know the good times are about to end.
The Blessing of Bastet
A few weeks later the whole of Egypt seemed to be in the temple. A mother cat had given birth to twenty four healthy kittens in the temple. From her markings the priests realized that she had wandered in from the wilds to give birth there. As the golden mother purred and nursed her kittens, the priestesses watched in awe.
For the mothers milk never dried up! Twelve hungry kittens at a time fed to fullness, then the others. It wasn't natural, surely Bastet's hand was in this. Surely, Hathor was also to be thanked, just to be safe. Amid the buzz no one noticed as an old woman, dressed in grey rags in the back of the temple came forward.
Respecting the crone, the priestesses showed her the wonder and asked if she had ever seen this before. The old woman just smiled, shook her head no, and returned to her corner after seeming to bless the happy family.
Suddenly an angered young man strode in to the temple. In one hand, a battered and terrified old cat hung, crying for help. The young man strode right up to Bastet's statue and smashed the cat upon it in desecration. The whole temple fell silent in shock, so every ear heard the man's blasphmey.
"Hear me, Bastet! I worship you no more! What good is an old and useless cat? She no longer hunted, she was ugly, and the stupid beast sprayed all over the house. When I beat her, she scratched me. I do not even believe in you! If you are real, come and fight me!"
With a hiss of anger the old woman stepped forward when no one else could. Craning her neck up, she looked with blazing anger into the man's eyes.
"I would apologize if I were you, Atmet. Oh yes, I know who you are. A drunkard, a coward, and a defrocked priest of Bastet! How dare you devalue a sacred feline because she is old? It is an honor to care for one's elders. As for her spraying, maybe she wouldn't if you didn't do the same in your drunkeness!"
This brought laughter from the people gathered. Even the cats, now all sitting at attention seemed amused. The crone bent down and took the poor broken cat into her arms. "Arise and shine my beloved." She gently purred. At her touch a golden light suffused the still form, then a startled cry came from those assembled.
For the cat lived again. The crone clucked happily and set the feline in the arms of a waiting priestess. "That's right, Immana. Take her to feast. She prefers water and fish you know, not meat." The priestesses eyes bulged as she became truly aware of the Lady in front of her. But she bowed and went to do as told.
"As for you, you haven't apologized. Do so now, boy."
A warning growl then a slap came from Atmet. He would bow before no useless old crone, no matter what sort of tricks she did.
With a roar Bastet took the form of a gigantic black cat. Seizing Atmet in her jaws she leapt out of the temple in one mighty bound. Later she returned to be feasted and celebrated by the adoring worshipers.
Before she left, she handed an old mangy tom to one of the priests. "See to it that Atmet here is taken good care of. This temple will crumble to dust, but still he will live on. We will see if in time he comes to regret his cruelty."
The moral being, readers, that all animals are our brothers and sisters and should be cared for. Old cats need love just as much as adorable kittens. And even when they misbehave by doing natural actions indoors no animal should ever be beaten.
All About Wicca
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