he watches her uncertainly as she enters the car, starting it up and making it roar to life. âcarsâ... he wonders how they were named. maybe it was derivative of âcarriageâ or âcartâ-- if only he could ask. instead he only obeys her, copying how she grabbed the handle to open the passenger side car door.
sitting in the seat makes him wary, a little tense because of how strange this means of transportation is. it smells of leather and smoke, almost overpowering salemâs scent. he hates that, already wishing they were out of the vehicle. hopefully no one would see them or ask any difficult questionsâ regulus canât answer them, after all.
he doesnât know what a seatbelt is, but he infers from the way she calls it a safety measure that it must be the strap she put over herself when she sat in the car. reaching over, he grabs his own, fastening it. he glances over at her shyly, looking for approval that he did the right thing.Â
itâs strange, once she starts driving. the car is faster than he expected (but that must be why itâs dangerous), quickly becoming a hurtling hunk of metal on the road. he nods in agreement when she says they should dump it in the lake, because heâs sure these cars are one of the first clues detectives investigate.
he considers her question, even though sheâs only teasing. there were compulsion spells, although they were tricky and required a lot of energy. he didnât realize he had any power left until he killed carl, but then again maybe that was the Old One securing a much-needed sacrifice for himself. regulus decides to nod, because he does technically have ways he could get them out of a bind. luckily there wouldnât be a body when he was done anyway.
theyâre in the trees now, the car parked in the forest not far from where regulus needs to go. but salem reaches for his hand so he looks at her, green eyes warm as he twines their fingers together for a moment. he nods so she knows he understands, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. he hovers there, wanting more but knowing they have work to do. so he pulls back, giving her hand a squeeze before letting go.
getting out of the car, he waits on her to pop the trunk again before gathering the body.
itâs even lighter on his shoulder this time; no burden at all. maybe heâs getting stronger already. the forest looks different than he left it, having changed over the years he was dead. luckily he can still recognize some of the markers, like a large oak tree off to the left. going a little further, they break into a small clearing, sheltered by tall trees that seem to whisper from the wind in their leaves.
then he sees it, near the cave where it used to be; an eroded rock, carved to be a table of sortsâ an altar. thereâs a pentacle engraved on top, but itâs been covered by moss and dirt. thereâs blue paint on one side where someone had put graffiti on itâ no doubt to make a mockery of something many in town were likely afraid of. it irritates him in the same way it always irritates him when someone touches his belongings. this forest and altar did belong to him, after all, just as he belonged to them. concentrating, he mentally recites âventum emundat,â an old incantation he learned as soon as he was old enough to make messes. he canât speak, but the spell works all the same, feeling the air lift around him, forcefully pushing the debris and dirt from the altar. the paint dissipates, leaving the stone as clean as it could be, an empty surface for his work.
then he drops the body on it, blood spilling across the engraved pentacle. there are standing rocks around the altar; one for each of the five elements. typically, the witches would make offerings for each element before a ritualâ candles for fire, incense for air, salt for earth and their own blood for water and spirit. he doesnât have the candles, incense or salt, but he figures blood will be enough for now.
taking the knife from his pocket, he flicks it open, cutting his palm. holding his hand over the altar, he squeezes the blood out, dribbling down onto the center of the star. he canât say the incantations out loud so he thinks them again, using every ounce of willpower and concentration. vocant diabolo, vocant diabolo, vocant diabolo.
carlâs neck has stopped bleeding, so he uses the knife to slit more of his throat, trying to coax it out. more of it pours onto the altar, mingling with his own. dedicationem faciunt. he remembers the incantations to the ritual like itâs second nature, because for most of his life it was. there are no candles flames to gauge the devilâs presence, but he can feel the shift in the air. itâs suddenly overcast as clouds roll in, covering the sun. the wind picks up, making the trees whistle more.
when heâs sure heâs been heard, he leaves the knife on the altar and turns to salem, taking the shovel from her. walking in front of the altar, between the standing stones, he begins to dig a hole in the center of the ground. piling dirt to the side, he works away, trying to be as quick as possible. if anyone caught them out here, it wouldnât be explainable between a stolen cop car, a corpse and an altar for the devil.
when the hole is just big enough for the body, regulus retrieves it, hauling carl over to drop him down inside. he could use magic to close the hole, but heâs starting to feel a little weaker, so he uses the shovel to fill it.
when heâs done he drops the shovel, focusing on the incantation again, trying to connect with the presence around them. his eyes close, the wind picking up around him again. thereâs a lightning strike in the distance, followed closely by rumbling from the sky.
and then he feels it; the familiar rush of power after a ritual completed. the ground glows a soft red, an incident so brief that he almost misses it when he opens his eyes. everything is sharper; his senses clearer and his body thrumming with magic. he knows his voice is back before he even tries to use it, relief already washing over him.
and his beautiful girl is standing before him, watching everything with those striking blue eyes. they seem even bluer somehow, with the sky such a stormy grey color above. âsalem?â he asks quietly, her name on his tongue, the first words he wants to speak. âit worked.â he wants to celebrate, even if it seems odd to do so because he had to murder her step father in order to get to this point. âdo i sound like you imagined?â he teases, approaching her. âdonât worry about the bodyâ our god takes it after itâs buried.â regulus doesnât know how it works after that; all he knows is the Old One always protects the coven, making bodies disappear as soon as they were consecrated and offered.
she can tell that regulus is a little unsure, maybe even a bit freaked out by the whole thing. she can only imagine going from horses and carriages to hunks of death metal that can beep. but she gives him a smile when he puts his seatbelt on, a soft nod too as she drives away into the forest.
they finally arrive to where they need to be, at least where she thinks they do. everything here is overgrown and typically the only people who come around this place are drug addicts and people who were up to no good..then again that explains why they're here doesn't it? salem follows regulus's lead, watching as he pulls carls body from the trunk of the car and salem reaches for the shovel after him. she thinks about his response, how they will actually be able to get way with this using his magic. she's seen this stuff in movies and read about them in books but for it to be real, and right in front of her it was a hard concept to fully wrap her head around, like watching her fiancé throw someone in the air with a flick of his wrist, all that power and strength just to protect her from a monster.
she follows him a bit of the way until they reach an area covered by moss and dirty and a bit of graffiti, it looks as though this place has never been touched, taken over by nature. she looks at regulus when suddenly the air around them starts to pick up, clearing the space to reveal the alter they were standing on, her hair getting in her face a little as she tucks it behind her ear. had regulus done this? she thinks for a moment. all this power and not a word spoken.
and so, she stands there and watches everything from the way he cuts his own hand open with a knife to the way he bleeds out her step father, the way the air around them begins to shift and the clouds ovee rhem begin to darken as if a presence had clouded over them in response to what he'd done. she should be terrified right now, any normal person would be but with so much that has happened at this point that it doesn't scare her or maybe it never would've... she'd never been in love before, she's not even sure she's seen love before but she's sure this is what it is because no matter what she loved him more than anything, his power and strength, he was better than anyone plus it was kind of hot, with that look in his eyes so focused and determined maybe he put a spell on her and she wouldn't mind if he did.
the wind around them is loud almost making this humming sound. salem is only snapped away from her trance when he's taking the shovel from her to hide the body and salem walks near him, watching as he places carl's body inside. it's at this moment she wonders, what death is like...because for awhile regulus was in a hole, dead and forgotten by the world and now carl would be, rotted away and eventually nobody would remember him, just the way it should be.
before she knows it the body is buried and then the wind starts to pick up before the ground is glowing red...regulus opens his eyes to look at her again and the air suddenly feels heavy for a moment, the anticipation as she looks up at him until...his lips start moving and there are words coming from it. "r-regulus." she says, it's like the clouds have parted and angels have started singing a beautiful harmony. she smiles back at him, taking a step closer as hands cup his cheeks. "it's you...I mean it's your voice." she says excitedly, smiling up at him adoringly. "it's perfect, I never thought I'd get to hear you." she smiles.
he starts saying something about the body but she's already stopped listening, pulling him down so she can press a long and deepened kiss to his lips, hands moving to brush through his curls as she purrs against his lips. she moves away from his lips with a smile, nudging her nose against his own. "all I'm worried about is our marriage and officially becoming your wife." she whispers against his lips, before she's reaching in her bag and pulling out two plastic capsules "why not do it now? right here at the alter."











