THE WITCH'S REBIRTH

The music was loud enough to make my chest thump, and the lights were flashing everywhere like they were fighting to blind me. Lana's birthday party was in full swing, and honestly, I'd lost count of how many shots I'd had. Everything felt a little too warm, a little too fuzzy, but I was having fun. I deserved to have fun. Lana had just climbed up a chair, yelling something about being twenty and dangerous, and everyone screamed. I laughed so hard I nearly spilt my drink. The place was packed with people dancing, shouting, and sweating. For once, it felt like the world wasn't so heavy on me. Around midnight, I decided it was time to go. I could already hear Aunt Reina's voice in my head about "late nights and bad choices." She was working a night shift at the hospital, so she wouldn't know I was just getting home, but, still, I grabbed my jacket and waved goodbye to Lana, who was still surrounded by her fan club. Outside, the air was cold and smelled like rain. My head spun a little. A guy I'd seen at the party, tall, with that overconfident grin, guys like him always have, followed me out. "Heading home?" he asked, falling into step beside me. "Yeah," I said, hoping he'll take the hint. But he didn't, "I could keep you company," he offered, smiling like he thought he was doing me a favour. I gave a small laugh. "I'm fine, really." We got to my car, and he leaned against the door, still talking about how boring parties get after midnight. I don't even remember what I said back, but somehow, he ended up in the passenger seat as I drove off. I guess I didn't want to be rude or maybe I was just too tired to argue. The drive was quiet at first, until he started inching closer, his hand brushing mine on the gear stick. "Don't be shy," he said softly. ​That is when my whole body went stiff. I pulled my hand away, but he kept pushing. I could smell his cologne strongly, like burnt wood and something bitter. My heart was racing, my palms cold. "Stop," I said, trying to sound firm. ​He didn't, instead, he grabbed my arm. ​"Let go!" I snapped, turning sharply toward him, my free hand pushing out. A wave of freezing, silver-tinged air rushed from my palm and before I could even process what happened, there was this loud, sickening thud. He flew backwards, crashing against the passenger door like someone had slammed him with inhuman strength. We both froze. He stared at me like I had just done something impossible, eyes wide, mouth half open. Then, without a word, he scrambled out of the car and ran off into the dark. I sat there for a long time, hands gripping the wheel, trying to catch my breath. My chest hurt and my ears rang. What the hell just happened? I finally drove home, the image replaying over and over in my head - him flying back, the look in his eyes, the sound of the hit. I didn't even remember the rest of the drive. When I got home, Aunt Reina wasn't there yet. She'd left me a note on the table, something about leftovers in the fridge and locking the doors. I didn't even read it twice. I just dropped my keys, kicked off my shoes, and fell into bed, hoping sleep would make the night disappear. But sleep didn't bring peace. It brought fire. Flames, screams, and the overpowering smell of blood, ancient wood and sulfur filled my dream. I saw an ancient village, burning and women with glowing eyes chanting in fear. I saw a man in silver armour cutting them down one by one. I saw her, a woman who looked just like me, standing tall even as the world fell apart. Her voice echoed through my head like thunder: ​She fell, and I saw her killer. He stood over her, his expression cold, his striking blue-grey eyes watching the slaughter with chilling finality. Words echoing in the far distance; "Veyrath will rise again." I woke up gasping, drenched in sweat. The sun was already creeping through the curtains. My phone was ringing. "Girl, what the hell happened last night?" It was Lana, her voice half-teasing, half-concerned. "That guy from the party said you threw him across the car. Are you hiding superpowers from me or something?" I sat up slowly, rubbing my face. "I... I don't know what happened, Lana." "Come on," she laughed. "You? Miss Soft-spoken Una? You probably just scared him off with your death stare." "Lana, I swear, I didn't-" I stopped, looking down at my hands again. "I didn't mean to do anything." On the other end of the line, Lana snorted softly. "What's that supposed to mean? You didn't mean to throw a full-grown man across a car? Girl, you sound like a Marvel character right now." "Lana, I'm serious." "So am I!" Lana laughed, though there was an edge to it. "You should've seen his face when he was talking about it. Said you barely even touched him. I thought maybe he was just drunk, but... you sure you didn't, like, shove him a little too hard?" I sighed, dragging a hand over my face. "He tried to touch me, Lana. I just pushed him away. I didn't push him hard," I whispered. "It was like something else hit him, something that came from inside me."That's it. The rest... I don't even know what happened." For a second, the line went quiet. Then Lana's voice softened. "You okay though?" "Yeah. Just tired." "Alright. Then let's chalk it up to drunk drama. He probably slipped or something." "Yeah," I said, even though my voice didn't sound convincing to my own ears. "Good. Because I told him if he starts spreading that story, I'm calling him out for lying and I'm posting his drunk dance videos online too." I laughed softly, Lana was one to always keep in your corner. "You're awful." "I love you too." Lana giggled. "Anyway, get up, witchy woman. You promised you'd help me pick an outfit for the fair tonight." I groaned, throwing myself back onto the bed. "You're impossible." "Love you too. I'll swing by in the evening. Try not to throw me into a wall, okay?" "Very funny." When the call ended, I sat there for a moment, staring at the faint light slipping through the curtains. The house was quiet. Too quiet. Somewhere outside, a crow cawed, sharp and echoing. I tried to laugh it off, just like Lana. Just some weird accident. A drunken misstep. But when I stood, catching my reflection in the mirror, my breath hitched. For a split second, my eyes looked darker like a storm brewing behind them-then it was gone. I blinked hard, shaking my head. "Get a grip," I muttered, pulling my hair up into a messy bun. "You're not in a horror movie." I walked away but traced my steps back looking into the mirror again. "You're never drinking again." I snorted at the person in the reflection, which was me. Still, as I turned away from the mirror, the small lamp on the desk flickered. Once. Twice. Then steadied again. "Something ain't right in here." Something felt off. My hands were still trembling. And in my mind, the woman from my dream kept whispering - "Veyrath will rise again."