Word Count: 815

"Yes. Yes. Yes! One more word then it's complete!" I laughed gloriously at the heaping pile of machinery before me. "You got this Gwen." I pumped my fists into the air. My fingers landed delicately back on the keyboard ready to resume my work.

Tap, tap, tap.

With the sweep of my hand I raised it ready to hit the last letter. "Finally." My finger plummeted but missed as I fell sideways from the screaming next door. I stared at the computer cords and frowned, my head cushioned by the soft carpet.

The screaming subsided as the musical instruments overshadowed the vocals. My office walls vibrating from the bass.

I pulled on my face with both hands, using the action to calm my anger. My barrier died again. "Good God, someone save me."

Rolling onto my side, I propped my head on my hand. Something had to be done. The duration of the barrier only lasted four to five days at most. Two to three days of listening to screamo and metal blaring at maximum volume—kill me.

What could I do? Ah, yes!

I scrambled to my feet and rushed to my bookshelves. My fingers trailing over the written volumes of witchcraft until I reached my desired destination. Bingo!

The spine of the leather book cool in my palm. Animal transformations, my favorite. I licked my lips in anticipation. This will be good.

Sprawling on the sofa, I randomly opened to a page in the book. I scanned the pages searching for my spell of choice while kicking my feet in the air. Rat? Mink? Nah, too boring. The next one caught my eye. Bat. Sounds good enough. Even the specifics were easy.

I set the volume aside and rushed to my storage closet. Rummaging through the shelves I found the required ingredients. The boxes and jars had a layer of dust. But labels and dates on each showed my organizational skills never failed me.

Two jars stuffed into my armpits and three boxes of varying sizes. Each containing a specific ingredient required for the spell. I changed my location to the dark room, designed perfectly for spell casting. It prevented mishaps from becoming apparent to the world—or neighbors. Let's start.

My giant black cauldron sat in the center of a pentagram engraved in the floor. As always, the room in pristine condition with only the bare minimum utensils. Gotta love cleanliness.

Witchcraft was similar to cooking; the base had to be started first. It consisted of water and a vial of sap. A few stirs and no heating completed the base. After throwing in the rest of the ingredients with a squeal, I relished over the last part. I had to infuse the mixture with the curse. This part always made me giddy.

I calmed myself before I made a major error and blew myself up. Once my heart rate slowed, I spoke the final words. The loud music nearly drowning them out.

"Calamity devours darkness, is the rite of passage for creatures of the night. Eyes broken, but sight never lost. Bring forth the desire of the cursed ones."

A drop of blood to seal the deal. I pricked my thumb, watching a small bead of red fall into the cauldron. The liquid glowed the same color from the addition. Success.

After brewing the potion, I quickly donned my characteristic battle gear—my witch's hat. Tipping it back and forth in the mirror. I changed my face from a scowl to a smile. "Hello gorgeous," I let out a cackle. Ha, I'm going to enjoy this.

Bottling up the spell into a small vial, I began my trek to my destination.

The rundown apartment complex never failed to intrigue me. Imagine the wonders one could find beneath its depths, I sighed contently at the thought.

No. No. Don't forget your task Gwen. I nearly walked past my neighbors door because of my thoughts. The blaring music reminded me why exactly I was here.

I knocked with the entire strength of my being. Hard and repeated.

A tall lanky man flung open the door, piercings covered his entire face.

"What?" he screamed over the top of the music. His eyes scanned my figure then landed on my hat, causing a frown to form.

"Hello Sir. Are you alone today?" I replied in a chirpy tone as I tilted my head.

His eyes narrowed. "Yes. Why?"

"Oh, no reason." As I finished my response, I uncorked the vial and threw the contents at his face.

"What the f-"

His yelling changed into a screech as his human form shifted into a bat.

I shut the apartment door in his face—or what was left of it.

"This apartment building isn't big enough for the both of us," I shouted with glee. My words ending with a laugh. "Let's see how he likes his music after a day."