Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
[Okay, I rushed through this one despite it being the longest of the bunch. It's my least favorite. Read on A03 here]
When Beca Mitchell was six years old, she almost drowned in the lake behind her childhood home. She remembers, not so fondly, the taste of salt and fish and dirt. She remembers, even more, the forgotten taste and the sudden fear that came with water filling her lungs and clouding her throat. The green water was murky, and the base was slimy, and she could barely find her way to safety.
Her fingers eventually brushed the broken wood dock that had been rotten through at the mercy of the weather. She dragged herself onto the edge, pressing her face against the moon-soaked surface, and she vomited. She doesn’t remember crying, but she was sure that she did. She remembers the anger, the blinding finality of it.
Her stomach hurt now, twenty years later, as she navigated the winding Pennsylvania roads lined with fir trees hammered with reflectors in an even line to catch the sweeping color of headlights. She tightened her grip against the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. Chloe didn’t’ ask if she was okay, she sensed that her wife wasn’t and placed a gentle hand on her knee.
Beca would like to say that it eased her nerves about returning to the estate, but the truth was, nothing would quite dull the ache in her stomach and the burning in her throat. She hadn’t seen the Mitchells in years and hadn’t heard from them other than a postcard stained with a sticky substance that smelled oddly metallic like blood.
It seemed threatening then and it seemed threatening now. There was no coincidence that it came through with extra postage only a day after she legally changed her name to Beale. Her father was a stickler for tradition, and a name change was enough to strike like a hot iron.
“What’s your mother like?” Chloe had asked as the car gripped the shoulder of the road during a, particularly sharp turn.
“Like any other mother, I suppose. She’s nice enough.”
“People don’t usually use that term to describe their mothers.”
She let me drown didn’t seem like the best precursor to a family trip up the side of the mountain to claim the estate. Chloe would see it as a figure of speech, as Beca being dramatic about how large and mysterious her family truly was. But that taste of dirt and bone flooded her mouth once more.
Truthfully, Beca remembers her mother with such vagueness that she couldn’t give Chloe a good answer even if she tried. There was the dense scent of lavender mixed with sweetgrass, and a warmth to her that parental figures often carried with them as if it were a burden. Her mother wore gloves, black silk ones that stretched up to her elbows and contrasted her pale unblemished skin. She never recalls seeing her hands.
Her father had passed away. She got a thick manilla packet in the mail only a month earlier that was stamped with the words “Bronte & Son’s”. It famously lacked any type of odd staining or strange scents- so Beca felt a tad bit safer than she would have before.
She went to school with a Charles Bronte- a man with many faces. Of course, he would become a lawyer, the thought made her scoff before even thinking twice about peeling back the adhesive. She was half-prepared for a summons to court, but instead, it was a finely penned letter informing her of her father’s natural demise, and a request for her presence at a formal will reading.
Chloe had asked her then too if she was okay, and Beca decided that she was. She hardly knew the man and had vague memories of him too fading quicker than those of the woman she called mother. She had nothing to mourn, only something to fear: the estate, the family she left behind, the gritty bottom of the lake behind her childhood home.
The Mitchells were something of a myth in Beaumont PA. They were witches who brewed potions or werewolves that pushed their human teeth from bloody gums, only to have them replaced by pointed dripping canines. To Beca, they were eccentric, and sometimes cruel, but not otherworldly because this had always been her world.
At least it had been until she shoved a few clothes into a burlap sack and set out to find her aunt in New York City. It wasn’t a far trip by bus, and she eventually made her way there after scrounging for a ticket. She never turned back, she fought hard for a normal life, and for fucks- sake she got one.
A beautiful wife, and a stable job, and an uncle who smiled hard enough that it reached the corners of his eyes. He walked her down the aisle and she hadn’t thought twice about inviting her own mother, her sister, or older brother. They would turn down the invitation, she knew, just as she had turned down her true nature as a Mitchell woman.
“There it is,” Beca whispered.
Chloe let out an astonished gasp, the house had always been true to its Victorian nature with a long sloping room and siding that had seen better days. Once upon a time it was kept up, with pine needles swept from the tiled roof and a yellow honeyed color to the wrap around porch. The forest was crowding in, and a wrought iron fence with the carving of a demon brandished the gates. That was new. Eccentric, and a little too on the nose for comfort.
The threat of snow was in the air, potent against her lungs as she slowly moved their car up the gravel driveway. A bronze fountain was coated in a thin layer of patina, no longer spitting water from the mouth of a forlorn angel. Brown lake water was siphoned from the very pond she had tasted herself, running in a system of underground pipes.
Beca pulled behind a black Lincoln Town Car that dawned the same ornament as the gates. It was polished, and had license plates topped with blue and sandwiched with a golden yellow. It was her brother's car, she was sure, her mother refusing to get a viable license, or go into town.
She had worn all blackout of respect. It had dawned on her, only now, that it wasn’t a funeral, it was a will reading and any mourning for her father had been done before he was put in the ground.
“This place is…” Chloe trailed off as Beca opened the door for her, her hand clenching the side of the car. She craned her neck as she looked up at the looming structure “Nice.”
“You don’t have to lie to me dear, we’re already married.”
Anxiety had settled deep within her stomach and Chloe eventually had to be the one to knock. Beca kept a gentle hand right on the small of the woman’s back. She didn’t’ know if she was sweating in the fall cold if the clouds looming above the estate made the temperature drop even lower.
The door creaked open and Beca felt her jaw go stiff. Her mother hadn’t aged a single day. Memories of her honey blonde hair and startling blue eyes struck her as it hadn’t occurred before. She wore a russet floral day dress despite the cold, her skin pale and soft. Her stare didn’t’ harden, not instantly. She had seen Chloe first, just like Beca had, all those years ago.
“Rebecca,” she breathed out the words like a sigh “Now, this is a fine surprise.”
She had a purr to her voice that was new- maybe not new, but certainly unfamiliar. Beca could feel her heart in her throat. It was nearly dizzying, the combination of seeing her mother for the first time in ten years, and the cloying scent that flooded from the house. It warmed her, made her ache for the memories.
“And who is this?” She asked.
“Chloe,” her wife said warmly, reaching out a hand “Beca talks so fondly of you.”
“Oh, I doubt that. Come in unless you intend to freeze.”
She turned and walked into the house without taking Chloe’s hand. The woman lowered it with a defeated shrug. Her family, her mother, in particular, was brash when she wanted to be. Beca stepped through the threshold of the house, instantly shielded from the outside world.
There was an oriental rug that stretched all the way to the kitchen, flooded with dull tinted light from the greenhouse. A large grandfather clock that clicked half a second too slowly stood next to a coat rack. There was a dining room to the left, and a sitting room to the right, large mahogany stairs stretched to a landing that branched into different rooms.
Her mother had already weaved to another room in the house. There were no family photos of the wall, nothing but a healthy heaping of red paint that nearly looked brown. It was her to shrug as she closed the door.
“Katherina, who was that at the door?” A male's voice cut through the odd silence.
Charles Bronte hung onto the white trim of the archway that lead into the dining room. He wore a green suit that contrasted against his brown skin. He pulled back his lips into a charming smile that revealed too much gum. “Ah, Rebecca! You are a sight for sore eyes. We weren’t expecting you.”
He hugged her then. His skin was cold and smelled like rain. She was thankful he didn’t’ carry the same rotting scent as the pond. She swore that even from here, in the foyer, that it worked its way to her. She was hesitant in her return.
“Well, you did invite me.”
He fretted, pulling away “Plenty of people get invited to plenty of things.”
She hadn’t been invited to anything other than this. She never blamed them, not for a single moment, she was the one that slid from the window and padded to the nearest station. They didn’t’ feel the need to stop her, that much was true because she had made her own choice.
“Who is this lovely lady?”
“This is my wife, Chloe.”
“Ah, I am pleasured to meet your acquaintance.” He picked up her hand and landed a kiss against her knuckles. Chloe’s cheeks reddened at the motion and she glanced sparingly at Beca as if she had no idea what to do.
“Don’t stand there like strangers.”
He turned on his heel and walked towards the kitchen. She assumed that’s where her mother had vanished too but still felt as if the soles of her shoes were concrete freshly dried. Charles was the only outsider she had ever met who seemed comfortable around the Mitchells, at ease. He was providing a service and she was sure that as soon as Katherina had drained him dry, she wouldn’t see him again.
There was a smaller table in the kitchen, pushed up against a wall with a small dish of fruit in the center. Her sister sat on the counter, her back close to the tile wall. Her foot was drawn up against her chest, dark-haired and blue-eyed. They took over the man freshly buried. Her brother looked fondly like Katherina, blonde hair cropped and styled.
It was longer when she left. He wasn’t as filled out and Emilina wasn’t as withered. They both glanced towards the door where Beca lingered. Her jaw ached now, from clenching her teeth. She swore she could taste blood, but knew if any had been drawn it would lead to her demise.
She had cultivated her control. She didn’t believe her kin had. They didn’t’ need to, being this far away from civilization. Her hands were in her pockets, picking at the corners of her nails. “Hi,”
“Hi.” Emilina said.
“Bec’s,” Finnick smiled as Charles had, it reached past his eyes and took over his full expression. He had her in a bear hug faster than she could react. There was a scent of dirt clinging to him, his chest broad and his arms thick like a boa constrictor. “It’s been so long.”
This time, she found herself hugging back. She missed Finn enough to ache, nearly the only one who she regretted leaving behind. He had moved to pull her from the water that day, to bring color back to her blue fingers and turquoise lips. But father had stopped him with a firm hand on the shoulder. That was enough then, and it was enough now.
“Would you like some tea, Rebecca?” Her mother asked.
She hadn’t noticed her by the stove, stirring loose leaves into a boiling pot. That’s where the clove scent was coming from, masking something more, masking nightshade. That’s what had been burning her lungs so feverishly. She squinted at the dark concoction. “No thank you, Mother.”
“It’s going to be a long day, going through all that tedious legal work. Are you quite sure?” her beady eyes flicked between the two in the door “What about your lovely wife?”
Chloe opened her mouth to speak but Beca squeezed her hand and she snapped her mouth shut. In any other circumstance, Beca would have received an open palm slap to the face and a ring thrown at her feet, but the tension in the air was palpable.
“She’s fine, thank you.”
Em scoffed with a devilish smile on her face, clearly amused by the refusal. Her body was blocking the jars, dusty and yellowed, that her mother had plucked the herb from. It was deadly to Beca, but fatal to Chloe. Her mother didn’t make a move to pour herself a glass but switched off the burner.
“Right, well, if you could all follow me into the dining room. I’m sure Rebecca would like to get down to business after such a long drive.”
They had stayed in a hotel down the road from the estate. Chloe insisted that they sleep in the house, but Beca was adamant, nearly in tears, that they don’t. She would front the price for a motel and at the distress, Chloe agreed.
Beca just nodded.
They filed into the dining room, painted a deep cobalt. It would let in a magnitude of natural light if the velvet curtains weren’t drawn. Instead, there was an oil lamp in the center of the table and manila folders set out at every seat like the first day of class. Her family seemed to find their natural spots- leaving two open for Beca and Chloe, closest to a China cabinet that she wasn’t allowed to look at as a child.
Her back was to it now and her childish impulses told her to turn around and get a better look. But she didn’t. Her mother held a cold and unrelenting stare. She twisted the silver ring around her finger nervously. It was engraved, a family heirloom. The only thing Beca had enough sense to keep with her from home.
“As you all know, we are extremely saddened to recognize the death of Patriarch James Mitchell. May he forever run with the wolves.”
Beca found herself repeating the phrase with the rest of her family. Their voices were slow and came out in different pitches. It was a mantra, one that each of them held near and dear. Chloe fought a look of confusion and instead sat quietly, listening.
“The first order of business is beneficiary.” Charles continued “if you could all flip to the second page and read along with me.”
Her eyes threatened to wander down the page, but she held herself steady. She didn’t find it plausible for her father to leave her anything with the estate. She was his estranged daughter who tried so hard to be normal, to fight her true nature and make something for herself. Make a life that wasn’t filled with death and carnage and the stale taste of blood.
She fought back a scoff. Her father was but a memory but he was always one for dramatics. Finn’s eyes were hard as he stared at the words with enough intent to burn a hole through the paper. Em looked nearly bored with herself.
“You’re kidding me,” Katherina hissed.
“Please, Miss Mitchell, I beg of you not to read ahead.” Charles sounded desperate “It’s James’s wishes that we all-“
“Damn his wishes, he’s dead.”
She held up a perfectly manicured hand. They were almost like claws, those red dripping nails of hers. They could easily split flesh. It was enough for Charles to snap his jaw shut with a dull thud. His father would have held a stronger resolve, but even the astute greats stood a small chance against the family.
Katherina’s eyes were filled with indignation. It gave Beca the same cold feeling of water filling her lungs. She couldn’t cough it up this time on the side of the dock under the moonlight. Instead, she met the darkened stare with one of her own.
“He’s left you everything, child.”
“I’m quite aware.”
“You’re not one of us.” She tsked “You haven’t gone through half of what we have.”
That one stung like salt in an open wound. But she feared her mother was right. She hadn’t been one of them for a very long time because she craved normalcy enough to get it. Chloe’s hand found her knee under the table. It squeezed with reassurance.
“You drowned me in the lake.” Beca’s words were calm. She spread he fingers out on the wooden table and focused on getting the even amount between them. “You let me choke on water and mud until I couldn’t anymore. You watched.”
“It was necessary.”
“Was it?” Beca was standing now. Both hands on the table. She had slammed them down hard enough to shake the crystal decanter that rested with water next to a lantern spurting blue fire. “You knew damn well what you did that night.”
“You had to carry on the legacy-“
“The curse?”
Her voice was strained. There was a silence that clouded the room, save for the large grandfather clock that ticked loudly in the foyer. Beca suddenly felt feverishly warm. It was being back in this house, with people too much like her. The ring wouldn’t be enough this time, she feared, the scent of nightshade and sweetener coiled in her stomach.
“What was it that time, mother? A party trick for your unseemly friends… a demonstration? Get the girl mad, see if she can escape the hands at the bottom of the lake. Is that all?”
An eerie silence fell over the room. Charles toyed with the page of the will that none of them had finished reading. Her sister had her jaw clenched hard enough to shatter teeth, but she too looked away, looked to their mother for some ounce of despite rescue.
“It was no party trick, child.” She narrowed her stare “Do you not remember that night as clearly as the rest of us?”
Beca swallowed the dry filmy taste on her tongue and searched her memory. She had felt dread the second she had stepped out of their car. The only salvation she had was Chloe, Chloe who didn’t’ even spare her a glance.
“I… remember you holding me under the water, how cold it was. How shocking it had been. For a moment I didn't think you would let me back up until my lungs were entirely filled with dirt. It was seconds but felt like hours.” Her voice shook.
“Before that, do you remember what happened before that?” Finn asked.
She shook her head in the shortest possible motion. She didn’t. There was a rush of dark purple linen and wine that nearly overfilled the fine crystal glasses with sloshing bloody red. The adults were drinking and she peered through the rungs of the oak stairs, longing to be there by the fire, out of the shadows that were cold and unfamiliar.
“We’ve lived in exile from the town for years, decades now, in order to assure the safety of the town. It would have been easier to move, to follow you to your aunt's house but we figured you were less dangerous if you were isolated. And you were.”
“Dangerous? I’m not- I’ve never hurt anyone.” But the words came out weakly. “Chloe?”
Her wife cleared her throat and glanced up with red-rimmed eyes. “Sometimes you disappear.”
“what?”
“Things end up dead. Little things. Miss Monroe’s chickens, or… her cat once. But the next morning you don’t have any memory of it so I don’t bring it up. I’ve never brought it up. But your family- they know something more. Don’t you? Know how to stop it?”
“You killed one of the guests at the party that night.” Charles Bronte spoke up, finally weary of the words he had been scanning this whole time. “My father spent the better part of a month forging documents, creating a trail to make it seem like the man you had slain just left. But he didn’t leave.”
Em had the ghost of a smile on her pale lips “He’s buried out back.”
Her mother had advanced her, and though Beca felt an intense need to pull away. She didn’t’, not as the woman’s perfectly manicured hand lilted her chin, the other smoothing down her hair that was still sprinkled with the least bit of winter.
“You remember me as a beast, one who held you underwater, but darling. I was trying to wake you up- to snap you out of it. You were feral, wild at the taste of blood. Our intention was to keep you hidden, keep all of you hidden.”
She wanted so desperately to grasp onto her sadness, to her disbelief. There had to be a lie somewhere, a mistruth in the matter of human and animal. But she had tasted the blood and the satin, and the rain that night. Tears dripped from her eyes at the loss of her father, at the loss of her humility.
“You must stay here,” Her mother pressed, using the pad of her thumb to wipe away a watery tear “Both of you. Leave the city.”
“If you all would have let me finish, I could have gotten to the second condition. Beca, the house is yours. Everything is yours. Under the condition that you live the rest of your days on the estate. In your father's words, it’s only going to get worse.” Charles said.
“You mean I won’t be able to control it?” She waved vaguely at the room around her “Whatever the hell it is.”
“Dad couldn’t. Not at the end.”
She nodded at Finn’s words before pulling away from her mother entirely. Chloe said motionless at the table. She stared at the water in the decanter and watched as the ice melted and the level rose close to the top. Condensation blushed against the wood.
Beca placed her hand softly on Chloe’s knee, kneeling in the most non-threatening way she could. “I think I have to stay. You don’t have to, I would never make you give anything up for me.”
Chloe’s dark blue eyes flashed towards Beca, glazed over a dark “Please. Darling, I fucking hated that cat.”
Summary: A curse leaves a daughter desperately in need of help from the VHI before she kills anyone else
(Horror Week, Day 2 - Family Curse)
Day two of Horror Week is family curse and I managed to combine this with a prompt I got from BechloeStaubreyFAN16 wayyy back in October of last year, so thank you for being so patient waiting for this one lkhglhdfsgfd I hope it’s something like what you wanted!! I am so soft for how lovely everyone has been about the start of Volume #2, honestly it means sooo much that you’ve been all as excited as I am about it coming back, I really have missed writing this little team and their adventures, even if things are currently wayyy heavier than I meant them to be...
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chloe lay in bed. “Becs, tell me a story,” she said. “I’m sleepy.”
“What are we, five?” Beca asked.
Chloe made the classic puppy dog eyes that they both knew Beca couldn’t resist.
She rolled her eyes, sighed, and said:
“Once upon a time there was this beautiful redheaded girl. She grew up to be a lesbian, and she ended up dating her college roommate. They joined an a cappella singing group called the Bellas and moved into the Bella house together. They lived happily ever after. The end.”
Chloe giggled. “Thanks, Becs. You’re the best.” She yawned. “I’m going to sleep now.”
“Do you mind if I leave the light on for a bit? I want to look up a few spells,” said Beca.
“Spells again? You’ve been all over the spellbooks for weeks,” said Chloe.
Beca shrugged. “I’m just trying to catch up to you.”
“You know you don’t have to. Why don’t you go to the living room to study?”
“Stacie has three exams this week. She threatened to zap anyone who disturbed her in the slightest. I can’t afford to replace whatever it is she ruins. She’s really careless with her aim when she’s angry.”
“Her fault for double majoring,” said Chloe. “Go ahead and read through the spellbooks. I don’t need snuggles anyway.”
“You’re a brat. Do you know that? Sometimes I forget that I’m the younger one in this relationship.” Beca climbed into bed with her girlfriend. She fell asleep soon after Chloe.
Beca awoke with a start the next morning. She looked down to see Chloe still asleep, an arm lazily draped over Beca’s middle. She gently kissed Chloe’s hand before climbing out of bed. She opened up the spellbook in hopes of finding what she’d need. The Bella house had a huge collection of spellbooks. There just had to be something.
Jessica and Ashley came down to start breakfast while Beca was still going through the books. She finally found something that might help, at least as a start, so she made sure to bookmark the page.
“What are you looking up?” Jessica asked.
“Nothing,” said Beca, slamming the book shut.
“Really?” Ashley asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s nothing,” Beca repeated. She took the spellbook up to her room and slipped it into her backpack. She’d look it over later in the library, maybe.
That afternoon, Fat Amy was working the register at the magic supply store. Stacie, Jessica, and Ashley were looking through spellbooks with Aubrey, the shop’s owner and former captain of the Bellas.
“So, tell me again, Stacie,” said Aubrey. “What did the demon that has been threatening you look like?”
“She looked human. I think she dyes her hair. And she was a real bitch.”
“Well, that narrows it down.”
Just then, Chloe entered the store. “Any luck finding our demon?” she asked.
The women shook their heads.
“Okay, well, everyone needs to meet at the club at 9:00 tonight.”
The group all looked blankly at Chloe.
“For Beca’s surprise birthday party?”
“Shit,” said Stacie. “Of course. I’ll be there.” The others quickly agreed that they’d be there as well.
A young man then walked into the shop. “Are all these magic books?” he asked.
“These aren’t for sale,” said Aubrey. “They’re from a private collection. The ones for sale are on the shelves on the walls.”
“Do all of these books have spells in them? Turn people into frogs, things like that?” he asked.
“Yeah. We’re building an army of frog-people,” Ashley deadpanned.
“So, are you all witches?” he asked. “Hey, don’t do a spell on me now.”
“Was there something, in particular, you were looking for?” asked Aubrey.
Beca walked into the shop just then, and she stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of the man.
“Well, what do you know?” asked the man, looking directly at Beca. “What’s the matter? You don’t have a hug for your big brother?”
“Brother?” Chloe asked Beca.
“Chloe, this is Jimmy.”
Chloe smiled as she walked up to the man and shook his hand. “Hi.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“These are my friends,” Beca said. “Jessica, Ashley, Stacie, Amy, and Aubrey.”
“All of you hang out?” Jimmy asked.
The group nodded.
“That’s more people than you talked to in high school.”
Beca stammered. “I...umm...how did you…?” She cleared her throat. “Why are you here?”
“I came here to see the birthday girl! Uncle Mick drove me and our cousin, Ellie, down in the camper.”
An older man and a young brunette woman entered the shop.
“There’s my favorite niece!” exclaimed the man.
Beca walked up to her uncle and gave him an awkward hug. “Hi, Uncle Mick. This is such a surprise.”
“Yes,” he said.
“Hi, Cousin Ellie.”
“I went to the Bella house and one of the girls said you might be here.”
“Well, you found me,” said Beca. She introduced her friends to her uncle and cousin. “My Uncle Mick and Cousin Ellie were a big part of my life back in Seattle, especially after my dad left and then my mom died.”
“I know we’ve come here without notice, but we’d like to have dinner with you.”
“Okay.”
“We’ll pick you up at six, and we’ll catch up,” he said. “Forgive me for running out. We’re double-parked.”
Mick, Ellie, and Jimmy left the shop without another word.
“Wow, your family just dropped in. That’s so weird,” said Chloe.
“Yeah.”
“They seem nice.”
Beca shrugged. “They’re okay. It’s complicated.”
“Right,” said Chloe.
“Can I help you guys with your research for a while?” Beca asked.
The whole group agreed, and Beca stayed for a while before excusing herself to get ready for dinner.
Beca walked into the Bella house and found her uncle standing in her room.
“The door wasn’t locked, and I was early.”
Beca stood still, blinking.
He picked up a crystal. “I guess you wanted me to see all of these...toys.”
“They’re not--” Beca started to say before her uncle cut her off.
“I was hoping if we let you go to college, you’d get all of this nonsense out of your system.”
“You didn’t--”
“And then I found you in that store.” He spoke the last word as though it had left a bad taste in his mouth.
“I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Of course we came. Your birthday’s almost here, and we haven’t heard from you in months. You know what that means.”
“The family curse,” said Beca. “Is that really going to happen to me?”
“You’re turning twenty. Just like your mother was, and Cousin Ellie.”
“I know.”
“Do your friends even know?”
“Yes,” said Beca, looking down at her feet.
“Don’t lie to me,” said Mick. “Beca, you’re coming back to Seattle with us.”
“But--”
“It’s the only way.”
“But--”
“You can’t control it. You have evil inside of you, and you’d better leave before it comes out. This magic ‘thing’ you’re doing is only going to make it worse. Why do you think you have this power?”
Beca shrugged and looked down.
“It doesn’t feel evil,” she said in a small voice.
“Evil never does,” he said. “I don’t feel very hungry right now. I’ll let you have time to pack. We need to be gone by tomorrow morning.”
“Your family loves you, Beca, no matter what,” he added. “How do you think your friends are going to feel when they see your true face?”
Beca sat in her room, staring at all of the crystals Chloe had arranged on their desk and thinking. She didn’t want to leave Barden. Her Uncle Mick had conveniently forgotten that Beca had originally wanted to move to LA, but her father had convinced Mick that he should let her try college for at least a year. She’d joined a Wiccan group, and then Chloe had heard her singing and had all but begged her to audition for their a cappella group. Beca thought about all of the fun she’d had with her fellow Bellas, and she didn’t want to get in that camper and drive across the country with her uncle, brother, and cousin. There had to be another way.
She was interrupted from her thoughts when Chloe walked into the room.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Was dinner fun?”
“Yeah,” said Beca.
“Aubrey wants everyone to come to the magic shop. She thinks we should try the demon detector spell again. She thinks she’s really dangerous, and--”
“I’m tired, Chlo. You guys go ahead. You don’t need me. That spell didn’t work last time anyway.”
“But, Becs. We need you. I think I got some ingredients wrong the only time we tried it, and I think we should give it another go.”
“I...I don’t think so. My family’s here, and…I’m just really tired.”
“Okay. No problem.”
“I’ll see you in the morning, and you can fill me in.”
“I will,” said Chloe.
After Chloe left, Beca opened up her backpack and grabbed the spellbook she’d put there. She opened the bookmarked page. She quickly mixed up the necessary herbs and crushed them into a powder. She put the powder in a little bag and headed to the magic shop.
She quietly came in through the back entrance and saw that everyone was at the table. Aubrey was in the middle of one of her safety lectures, so Beca whispered the spell and then blew the powder at the group. She heard Aubrey pause for just a moment, and she left the magic shop the way she came.
She was surprised to see Cousin Ellie when she left.
“Hi, Ellie.”
“Hi, Beca. I was looking for you. I wanted to see if you need help packing.”
“I...no. I’m not leaving.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“You selfish little bitch. You don’t care about your family. At all.”
“What?”
“Uncle Mick has been worried sick about you since you’ve been gone. There’s a house that needs taking care of, and Jimmy and David have had to do everything themselves while you’re here doing God knows what with those...friends of yours.”
“I’m taking classes in college, Ellie.”
“It won’t matter once your friends find out the truth about you. They’ll see what you really are.”
“No, they won’t,” said Beca.
“They will unless you do one of your spells on them.”
Beca stood still, but Ellie wasn’t fooled.
“Oh my god! You did! You did a spell on your friends? I’m going to tell my dad. He’s going to be so pissed at you! You can’t just go around cursing people!”
“It was just so they wouldn’t see the demon part of me. It’s harmless.”
“I’m telling my dad. He’s going to tell your friends the truth, so you’d better tell them first.”
Beca went into the shop to tell her friends about the family curse, but she saw the group was in a battle with demons.
“Stacie, behind you!” Beca called.
Stacie threw an elbow behind her and readied her zapping finger. “Beca, where is it? Can you see it?”
Beca quickly realized that her spell had prevented everyone from seeing the demons that had entered the shop. She quickly said the spell reversal, and Stacie was able to zap the demon that had just punched her in the face.
Aubrey shot a fireball out of her hand at the demon that had been after her, and Ashley sent the last one flying across the room while Jessica conjured a weapon to stab it in the throat.
Beca’s family came into the shop just as the battle was ending.
“What was that?” Mick asked.
“Lei-ach demons,” said Fat Amy. “Nasty things. They usually just suck bone marrow out of people, though.”
“I don’t understand,” said Mick.
“I’m not sure I do either,” said Stacie, glaring at Beca.
“I’m sorry,” said Beca. “I’m so, so sorry. I was trying to hide. I didn’t want you to see what I am.”
Chloe walked over to her girlfriend. “Beca, what are you talking about?”
“What are you?” asked Stacie.
“Demon,” Mick said. “The women in our family have demon in them. They all do. We came here to take her home before she caused trouble. But I guess that’s already happened.”
“You cast a spell on us to keep us from seeing that part of you,” said Aubrey. “That’s why we couldn’t see our attackers.”
“It nearly got us killed,” said Ashley.
“I’m sorry. I’ll go,” said Beca.
“The camper’s outside,” said Mick.
“Wait!” Chloe exclaimed. “You did a spell that went wrong. It happens.”
“She belongs with us. We know how to control her...problem.”
“Beca, look at me. I trusted you. Was all that just a lie?”
“No.”
“Do you want to leave?” Chloe asked.
“It’s not your decision!” Mick yelled.
“I know that!” Chloe yelled back.
“Do you want to leave?” Chloe asked again.
Beca shook her head.
“Beca, I’m taking you out of here before somebody does get killed. You belong with your family. I hope that’s clear to all of you.”
“It is,” said Chloe.
“You want her, Mick?” Stacie asked. “You can go ahead and take her. But you’ll have to go through me.” Stacie held up her hands, both pointer fingers sparking with electricity.
“What?” he asked.
“You heard me. If you want to take Beca out of here against her will, you’ll have to go through me.”
“And me,” Aubrey said, gently tossing a fireball between her hands.
“And me,” said Ashley, picking up a heavy book from the table with her mind and letting it sail just over his head.
“And me,” said Jessica, conjuring another weapon similar to the one she’d used to stab the Lei-ach demon.
“This is ridiculous. We are her blood kin!” Mick yelled. “Who are you?”
“We’re her family,” said Stacie.
Jimmy finally spoke up. “Beca, if you don’t get into that car, I’m going to beat you--”
“Oh, really?” Chloe said, waving a hand at him, causing him to float into the air. She circled her hand a few times, causing the man to spin in circles several times before not so gently letting him drop to the floor.
“Well, I hope you’ll all be happy hanging out with a disgusting demon,” said Ellie.
“What kind?” Fat Amy asked.
“What?”
“What kind of demon is she? There are a lot of different kinds. Some are very, very evil, others...not so much.”
“Well...what does it matter?” Ellie asked.
“Evil is evil,” said Mick.
Aubrey blew out a sigh. “I’ve got the powder right here. Let me try the demon detector spell again.”
Aubrey put a pinch of the powder into her hand, said the incantation, and blew the powder at the group.
The powder swirled around, and Fat Amy’s skin glowed a bright red. Nobody else was affected.
“Just as I suspected,” Aubrey said. “No demon in her.”
“Why is she glowing red?” asked Mick.
“Half-demon,” said Fat Amy. “Dad’s side. Long story.”
“It’s a family legend, isn’t it? Just a way to control the women?” asked Aubrey.
Beca’s uncle and brother didn’t meet her eye.
“I think your business here is finished,” said Aubrey.
“Beca, we supported you after your father left and your mother died, and--”
“Just go,” said Beca.
“Magic,” Mick scoffed as he left.
“Are you happy now?” Ellie asked.
“You’re damn right I am!” exclaimed Beca.
She called as they walked out the door, “By the way, I’m not only a witch, but I’m also a lesbian!”
Her uncle, brother, and cousin slammed the door behind them.
Ever want to blame your problems on a family curse? Can’t catch a taxi? Yeah… We have a family curse that just makes that absolutely impossible. Burn dinner ever time you try to cook it? Us too, probably because of the ancient family curse forbidding us to make Mac and cheese. Day Two is Family Curse.
Make Sure to tag your posts with #HW2102 so we can find your masterfully creepy submissions and Reblog them. We will be on the lookout all day!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
SUMMARY: Beca finds out the reason why she’s born with such terrible luck and needs to find a way to end the cycle that has been going on for generations.