#;;ginger internet witch bitch

[the-roanoke-society]

Agent Succubus Origins

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S.O.S signal Agent Whiskey code Roanoke…

“Whiskey?  What’s wrong?”  Ginger’s fingers flew across the keyboard.

“Get!---fucking---”

“Agent, your connection is breaking up I can’t access your feed.”

“I said we need Roanoke!  Are you fucking dumb and deaf?!  Roanoke!  They sent us into a fuckin’ den of bullshit that we aren’t qualified to handle!  I have a goddamn trainee with me, this was supposed to be a raid mission!”

“Understood.  Agent Seraphim and Lycan are on their way.” 

What was supposed to be a simple raid mission of an underground organization selling international intelligence and illegal/exotic goods had taken a nose dive.  Agent Whiskey and his trainee, Jason Bradshaw, who had taken the spot of Agent Tequila were now cornered in the dark compound and didn’t know if their fellow agents were alive or dead after the shit that had gone down.  The only upside being that the only suspect left and who was sending this demonic shit out to them was also trapped in the adjoining room.  The stand-off had lasted hours, both parties exhausted and just as there was a lull in the hell hounds and nightmarish visions the Roanoke agents finally made it in carrying supplies. 

“Sorry we’re late!  I had to bless all of this on the way here and you would not BELIEVE the way Phoenix flies that chopper when it was supposed to be his night off and he gets called in whooo, thought I was gonna die for sure, sweet lord.  But! I have some salt rounds and rope, wasn’t sure what to prepare for!”  Seraphim grinned at the two like they weren’t on the verge of a complete breakdown.

“Thank God y’all are here.  Fuckin’ get us outta here I cain’t-”  Tequila began but was cut off with Whiskey grabbing his shirt collar and giving him a solid punch to the jaw.   

“You gon’ let those fuckin’ weirdos come in here and do YOUR mission, boy?  Stop bein’ a pussy and get in there and fuckin’ take down whatever’s been causing us grief.  You were a rodeo clown, right?  Go get em” Whiskey shoved what Agent Seraphim had called Binding Rope into his hands.

With a shotgun loaded with blessed rock salt rounds the trainee pushed through the grimy door to come face to face with… a girl?  Dark clothing ripped and soiled from the confrontation that had taken place for the past 3 hours, buzzed hair giving off an intimidating vibe.  As she pointed a hand at him and opened her mouth to shout what he figured was another curse, he took the shot.  It caught her square in the chest, sending her to the floor with a strained gasp.  Tequila kicked her over and kneeled down to begin tying her hands together, but as soon as the witch felt her power decrease with the rope she hissed and jerked.

“Unless you want another buckshot of fucking rock salt in the back a your thighs you best stop fidgeting.”  Tequila panted, his knee pressed into the girls neck as she stared at him with wide eyes filled pure rage.

“Fuck you, hunter” She weezed, movements ceasing.

Hunter? “Ya, that’s what I thought.  Fucking witches, this was supposed to be my first goddamn mission, ya know?  And I get stuck rustlin’ a fuckin’ witch.”

He sat back on his heels to catch his breath and gave her ass a tired slap as if she were some fucking pig he had finally caught.  So, really when she was able to twist around and kick him in the face, he deserved it, but that didn’t stop his anger from boiling up again.

“Alright, I was gon’ just let ya walk on outta here with me with some dignity, but fuck that.”  The blood running down his chin from the broken nose dotted the white rope as he bent her legs back and looped the rest of the rope around her ankles, hog tying her.

Even with her chest wound the witch began a raw, ear splitting scream that shook him to his core, like a wild animal at its last few minutes of life.  The bandana from his pocket silenced that after he was finally able to get it around her head.  She had never felt more infuriated or humiliated in her entire life, this fucking cowboy was going to pay when she got out of this rope, she was going to ruin his fucking life.

“Now, I can either carry ya out… or you can keep on bein’ a fuckin’ bitch and I can drag ya.  So, which is, it gonna be sugar?”

 A few moments later Tequila emerged from the room with a witch thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes looking pretty smug despite the blood drying on his face and soaking into his shirt from her rock salt wound.  Whiskey bent down to get a good look at her and whistled.

“Oh, boy she is fuckin’ furious, ain’t she?  I can’t wait to see what Roanoke comes up with ta get rid of you.”

If being carried out of the compound wasn’t embarrassing enough now she found herself being paraded through an agency.  The one everyone referred to as Tequila and or Jason, was getting slaps on the back and congratulations on his first completed mission, usually followed by a comment about what a good “catch” she was.

“Boy, what the hell are you doin?  Put that girl down now.”

The rope was cut and replaced with rune inscribed cuffs as she stood in front of an older gentleman in a cowboy hat and a flawless woman that practically oozed power.  These guys were not hunters, something was going on here.  Monitors behind the two were filled with videos and information about her, including live feed of what had happened during his mission.  The woman spoke to her first.

“My name is Lilith.  You’re in Kentucky at the Statesman Head Quarters and Distillery, also home to the Roanoke Society, have you heard of us?”

She nodded slowly, “Roanoke stopped a pack of weres from getting executed last month in New York.  We couldn’t get there in time so we were thankful.”

“So, you know we aren’t here to hurt you?  Really I’m very impressed with how well your group covered up an underground Cryptid Protection facility by selling Russian secrets and pretending to be a Black Market.  However, I am even more impressed with you…”  She turned to the monitors now.

“Rae Clementine.  Clean record.  Good marks in school.  And these videos, well I must say it does take quite the sorcerer to perform Necromancy.  How did such a small town witch like you end up in a mess like this, hm?”

The witch had only been half listening because her eyes were glued to a corner of the screen where a video that she thought had been scrubbed from the internet was playing on a loop.  Rae, first year of college drenched in kerosene and tied to a tree outside of campus as a frat boy ex-boyfriend kneeled in front of her with a match in her face and his friends stood around watching.  There was no sound, but she could still hear the taunting laughter, feel the thick liquid dripping down her face and suffocating her as she screamed. 

“I wanted to make a difference, protect people no one else thinks of protecting.”

Lilith followed her eyes to the video just as the boy snuffed out the match and left her tied to the tree where she would remain for another five hours until a jogger found her, “It is a pity what men do to things they can’t control…Of course, for your illegal actions we would have to send you to prison, our Siberian location most likely, but Champ and I know potential when we see it.”

Champ gave her a grandfather like smile, “turns out Roanoke could use an agent with your skills.  We’d be happy to offer you a position instead of prison, you’d still need to go through the trainin’ a ‘course, but Lilith says you got a good heart and that’s all I need ta hear.”

“So, what’s it going to be poppet?”

Rae anticipated either a laugh or that they were joking, but as they stayed silent and waited for her to reply she finally realized it was real, this was a chance of a lifetime, a chance to actually make a difference and help the world.

“Yes.  Thank you, yes.  I’ll work off everything I may have caused damage to, I’ll uncurse all the agents I thought were hunters.  Oh shit I broke someone’s fucking nose I need to apologize-”

Needless to say several Statesman agents were none too pleased when they found out that the one who had cursed them all with nightmares and bedwetting was being made an agent.  Tequila in particular felt like he had been cheated out of a trophy for his first mission, but the warm smile and apology she gave sure did help to soothe it.

Two months later Roanoke inducted their newest member, Agent Succubus.  Specializing in gritty, old school Witchcraft with an emphasis on mind manipulation, great for interrogations was what Champ had said. 

Two weeks after that she was getting tied up by Tequila again, only this time it was mutual.