As a battle rages between Eldritch and Athow in the school library, let us turn back the clock a bit dear reader to the start of the day. No, not to focus in on our teenage heroine or her fated foe. Rather, our eyes turn toward a more innocuous member of this drama. Our eyes turn to the oft-overlooked Bella Atropa.

“Bella,” Mrs. Atropa begins carefully. “Can you take your nose out of that book for a minute?”

Bella’s eyes pop over the edge of the book as she asks, “Mom?”

“Just checking in,” her mom says reassuringly. “Your reading habits have changed recently and I wanted to know why.”

“Oh!” Bella says, flustered. Pushing her glasses up, she flips the book and looks down at the cover before looking back up at her mother with a flash of guilt. “Uh…” she begins, fiddling with the cover nervously. Whatever she might have said vanishes in a splash as she accidently drops her book on her spoon, flipping a bit of her breakfast onto the table.

As Bella turns red in the face, her mother swiftly cleans the tablecloth with a napkin. “Well,” she says as she works, “I’m not worried. But I just want to know why. Is there a reason you’re reading Heptameron?”

“Uh…” Bella squeaks.

Chuckling, her mother finishes cleaning the table and tosses the wet napkins in the trash. Then she says, “Don’t worry, I’m not concerned my daughter is turning into a witch or anything like that. You can read grimoires and if you want, I can even check out some things from the university library for you. I just want to be aware of what you’re interested in.”

“Oh,” Bella replies, relaxing visibly. “Well I’m trying to research spells about magical transformations, see-”

“Right,” her mother says assertively, “like transmutations or polymorphic spells?”

Taken by surprise, Bella merely squeaks in confusion.

Smiling at her daughter’s reaction, her mom leans in and whispers conspiratorially, “Your grandmother was a Wiccan.” Sitting up and resuming her normal tone, she continues with a smile. “She made a habit of collecting different spells and writing them down.” Glancing up to the celling she continues thoughtfully, “I think her book of shadows is in the attic. I have a box of her occult things somewhere up there.”

Wide eyed, Bella murmurs in awe, “Really?”

“Half the reason I got my PhD was out of spite. I wanted to prove to her that I was as far from a Wiccan as I could and at the time it seemed like the opposite of magic would be science.”

Still a bit shocked, Bella simply repeats herself. “Really?”

Caught up in her story, her mother continues with a half chuckle. “Well I did say at the time. Nowadays it feels like physics isn’t so far away from magic especially when studying superpowers.”

“Really?”

Musing, her mother hums lightly. “Oh yes, did you know that Blind Justice can perfectly describe objects located behind him? Of course, given his eyes its impressive he can see objects located in front of him. Even still, he has 360 degrees of vision! We’ve tested just about every way we can think of and still don’t have a clue how he does it. And don’t even get me started on Beacon.”

“Really?”

“We can’t even determine what his energy blasts are. Its fascina-” A sudden beep shakes her from her roll. Mrs. Atropa glances down at her watch and says with a start, “Oh! Look at the time, we’d better get going or you’re going to miss school.”

“Really?” Bella murmurs, her brain slowly unfreezing.

Seeing her daughter’s confusion Mrs. Atropa pats her on the back and asks, “A little much for a breakfast conversation, huh?”

Wide eyed, Bella just nods as she mechanically begins to push her book into her bag.

“Well, think about it and let me know tonight okay?”

“Know what?”

Mrs. Atropa opens the door and ushers her daughter toward the car saying, “Transmutation or polymorphic. The spells you’re researching.”

“Okay,” Bella murmurs as she ducks into the car and clicks her seatbelt.

“And let me know if you have any questions. There’s a professor of occultism in one of the other departments I can reach out to if you’d like.”

Nodding to herself, Bella recalls a conversation she had just before transforming into Belladonna and says, “Professor Maswynn in the history department.”

“Yes,” her mother says in surprise. “How do you know him?”

“We met at the school tour. He was complaining about the sudden rush of students signing up for his occultism class and people trying to get him to organize an Eldritch fan club,” Bella replies mechanically.

With a light laugh, her mother nods and says, “That sounds like Chuck. He hates teaching, all about his research that one.”

As the car rolls out of the driveway, Bella falls into an awkward silence. Her mind, dear reader, goes back to that day and her bold trip through the recesses of Liberty University. Then it travels forward, thinking of her fateful time in the library and the cursed text that even now sits in her backpack shoved behind all the other books. Preoccupied by her roaming mind, she answers her mother’s questions perfunctorily and swiftly preferring to stew in her thoughts rather than let her mother draw her into conversation. Of course, when she does the shock of discovering her grandmother was a believer in the power of magic sends her tumbling back into silence. Today has simply been far too much for her, dear reader!

And yet, today has only just begun! After all, poor Bella has a whole school day ahead of her still. So as she trudges to her locker and begins shuffling her books in preparation for her first class, Bella’s hand accidentally brushes up against her forbidden tome. Almost as if it sensed her earlier thoughts, the book is warm to the touch. A curl of reinvigorating energy uncoils through her fingertips causing Bella to gasp lightly and glance down.

Below her fingers, the ornate lettering of the title pulses brightly. Staring in consternation at her fingers, Bella watches as a slow green tint begins to creep up her hands toward her wrists. With a gasp, she recoils accidentally dropping her backpack and spilling her books everywhere.

Terrified someone might spot the book Bella drops to the floor and begins gathering her items in a rush. In her panic, she almost misses the innocuous seeming text. Frantically, she looks around for a few seconds before locating it lying face down a few feet away. Letting out a long breath, she clutches it tight to her body and glances around the hallway. Seeing the other students have already left for the start of class and she is alone, Bella glances down. Warring internally, she finally braces herself and turns over the book to look at the cover.

Her stomach flips as she reads the words slowly fading away, “A Witch’s Guide to Poison: Spells, Brews, and Ingredients.”

Her breath coming in short bursts as she stands alone in the middle of the hallway, Bella remains transfixed as the fateful book transforms back into an innocuous looking blank text. Nervously, her hand fumbles until it falls on her cross. Underneath her fingers the charmed metal is hot, a warning that Bella is closer to Belladonna than she ought to be. Clenching her necklace in a tight fist, Bella breathes in and out slowly calming herself down.

A few tense breaths later she slumps against her locker, letting the back of her head hit the cold metal as she looks up at the celling.

“You can do this,” she whispers. “You are strong, and confident, and smart, and nice, and definitely not going to let your inner monster win. Not today Bella. You can do this.”

As she lowers her head, her eyes flash a sickly green and her voice changes as she hisses, “Or we could kill them, all of them. Eldritch and her new best friend Ginger Snap. Then nobody would stop us from getting revenge!”

Gasping, Bella whirls around and slams her hand into the locker door. “No!” she exclaims, her eyes draining of the unnatural color in an instant. Slumping, she pants as she recovers from her internal ordeal for a few precious seconds before squaring her shoulders, shoving the book into her backpack and walking toward class.

“Late?” Mr. Laurisden asks in an arch tone as Bella slouches into her morning class. Unconcerned, he waves his hand toward her desk and adds, “Well it happens to the best of us I suppose. Please take a seat Bella.”

Shamefaced, Bella drops her pack and stumbles into her chair. Quickly, she reaches down to pull out her notebook. As she does, her fingers brush the edge of her cursed book, causing her to flush a deeper red and quickly pull out her intended target. Opening her notebook, she grabs a pencil and begins to scribble as Mr. Laurisden resumes his lecture.

So caught up in catching up on her notes, Bella is still writing frantically when the bell rings signaling the end of the period. Throwing her notebook into her backpack in a quick motion she races to catch up with the rest of the class, most of whom are already out the door before the bell finishes sounding.

Finishing her scribbling, she races out the door and almost collides with a man standing outside!

“Sorry!” she apologizes frantically as she stumbles backwards from her last second swerve to avoid him.

With a smile, the man smiles down at her at says, “Think nothing of it. Please, allow me,” he adds as he takes her hand and helps her regain her balance. Then he adds, “My name is Thorm. What’s yours, child?”

“Uh,” Bella says, flustered under his gaze. “B-Bella?”

“Bella,” he replies, saying the word slowly. “Bel-la.”

“Yes?”

He shakes his head and replies, “Oh nothing, I assure you. Just your name, it’s,” Athow pauses, savoring the next word, “appropriate. I’m quite fond of my own Bel and I find it auspicious that you share a name.”

Confused, Bella replies hesitantly, “Okay? It’s just a name…”

“Indeed. But then, what’s in a name?” Athow asks with the ghost of a knowing smile playing at his lips. “Nothing I suppose.” He considers the disheveled girl in front of him for a few more seconds before asking, “Now, you wouldn’t happen to know the direction to the library, would you? I am all turned around, unfortunately. I am looking for some books and I thought for a minute that one of them was this direction, but it appears I have missed the library altogether. Could you help me?”

Brightening, Bella nods and replies cheerily, “Sure! You just go down this hallway then take a left and then a right and then another right and then walk until you see Mr. Whittaker at the desk, you can’t miss him he has really long hair!”

“Thank you,” Thorm Athow replies. “And if I need any additional help navigating this old convent, where can I find you?”

“Convent?” Bella whispers, confused. Setting aside her confusion, she replies as Athow waits patiently, “Umm, well I’ll be in study hall with Ms. Betinis just next to the gym.”

“Thank you,” Athow replies. Then he extends his hand and adds, “And thank you for your direction. I am afraid it would have taken me much longer to reach my goal without you.”

“Right,” Bella answers before quickly shaking his hand and bolting down the hall to reach her class before the next bell rings.

Watching her go, Athow lifts the hand he used to shake hers and looks down at his palm. A small smear of blood runs along the lifeline of his hand. Inspecting the red marking, Athow murmurs, “Intoxicating. That much magical corruption in a single person and she is still sane.” Looking up at the retreating girl, Athow adds, “The perfect sacrifice. Ah, Belinda, how the fates conspires to return you to my arms!” His expression darkens before he continues. “And how I will slay them at the first sign of interference. You will be mine.” Then his bright expression is back as though it were never gone and he turns to resume walking adding, “Now, down the hallway to the left then right and again right until I see the man with the long hair!”

With the eye of Athow upon her danger stalks poor Bella, dear reader! But still entrenched in his fight with Eldritch in the library of St. Cecilia High how does he plan to strike at the vulnerable girl? Indeed, can he? Find out next week in… “Blood Red Pages!”