Recipe Witch: Blu Beryl

The silver halls seemed to grow larger and wider as she walked through, the strange inhabitants casting an ominous gaze that made a simple trip from class to class impossible to navigate. Everyone in this school was of a supernatural pedigree, faithful to the realm of monsters. Frieda Velsiknov shielded her tattered face behind a book, hoping not to run into any trouble today. Frieda was a Banshiek, they were responsible for wailing and mourning the passing of the dead, and in some legends of her people said to inspire particularly dark nightmares with horrible threatening music that would traumatize you. She looked more humanoid than most, the occasional bit of skeletal tissue showing aside and her sunken, baggy eyes showing her familiarity with the uncanny and frightening. It's not a farce to say the monsters of this school were a bit superstitious, and often avoided her when they saw her, so Frieda kept her head down and tried to make it to her schools lessons as fast as possible. She walked through the discordant gossip of the halls, seeming to shrink in her long-sleeved dirty green sweater and skinnyjeans.

The school itself was no less sinister. The halls seemed to grow darker the further in they went, and once she passed through the gates she felt as though she was about to enter the belly of the building. A large black portal, surrounded by a massive, impenetrable white field, yawned out in front of her. A simple portal to poetry class, nothing more.

A low hiss sounded behind her, and she immediately turned to see Judith Corbyn, her snakes coiled atop her head. Frieda really didn't want to deal with that gorgon bitch today.

"Fried Voodoo, why are you in such a hurry? The Morgue sale will wait."

That was a mean joke, Frieda thought. Morgues didn't have sales.

"It's all fun and games until the zombie twat brings fleas.." Her husky minion, Ruth Muttler added.

Frieda was reclusive, but she wasn't one to cower in the corner when provoked. "I'm not a zombie. And fleas? You're a dog Ruth."

"Yes, and I bite." She growled slightly. Behind them, Purii Demetri stood grinning, holding a trident and flapping her fins.

She tried to sneak past the trio, only for them to huddle close and block her path. In this realm of fangs and freights, social adolescence had to be offset within the wild instincts of ferocious teenagers. Frieda had dealt with this sort of thing since she was a kid, she was never the social fearmoth that "Intrudy Judy" Judith was.

"Yeah well, don't choke. Bye." She tried to move around them, each moving in turn to block her. "Not so fast." Judith smirked.

The gorgon snaked her tongue out and ran it down Frieda's neck, licking the girl's pale skin.

"Slaaaaaaa-ch!!!" She screamed, and tried to move out of range. It wasn't a voluntary noise, Banshiek's simply had an instinct to shriek and wail when threatened, the gorgon taking full advantage of that.

"Siiigghhh. It's not fleas, Frieda. It's like, our saliva or whatever. Now, how nice can you be?" As Frieda saw Judith's eyes, it gave her a chill in her heart. No one could truly escape fate in this school, even if she did have powers. Telekinetic tricks weren't uncommon, and cursing others to have nightmares you'd think would have its perks.. but in the hands of an ineffectual loner, would never amount to much more than chimney smoke. Ashen, dull but harmless. She wasn't a fighter. All she could do was give a breathing, shallow grovel.

"What do you want Judith?" She asked the school bully.

She prayed for all their deaths so that she could escape this school with her sanity intact, but she digressed. Asking for revenge could wait.

"You are nothing but a little loud annoying freak," Judith said scornfully, pushing her against a locker and holding her hand up as she pressed her chest. "and honestly, you're a disgrace to monsters and this entire school."

Judith's mouth moved into a grin. Her hands texted away, looking to her left. Suddenly Brootz the janitor got a message, and ran outside with a gasp.

"I'm gonna make her cry and scream. Purii, grab the mop. Ruth, the bucket."

Frieda couldn't do anything as Purri twisted it all around, flopping the end of the mop to scrub and soak her hair and issuing a drubbing onto her face.

In fact, Frieda couldn't do anything but watch this, she simply couldn't move or defend herself. She just wanted to get the hell out of the school and run home. The pressure and anxiety in her built like a warhead going off and when she couldn't contain it, the Banshiek's instincts launched off.

"SSSSSSSSSLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!" It was crazy and wild but even she could hear the madness in her voice coming out.

The deafening cry filled the school halls. Frieda covered her mouth and she burst into tears. Every student in the building was a witness to this banshiek's outburst. Frieda's hair was lifted off her head by Judith's tight pull, and the mop whipped around her face further in a cyclone of damp brown curls. Purii poured the bucket of soapy water onto her head drenching her and her clothes. She was so angry, she was shaking. Once she was suitably dragged out as a spectacle, Ruth dropped the mop. The three high fived each other and started to walk away, giving a pitiless look on the girl before making it to class. Frieda was struggling and gasping for air now, her knees shaking and her hair was wet. She was crying and she was furious.

Frieda thought about how desperate she was. How badly she wanted to do the right thing, to be one of the good girls, to be like everyone else. The thought of leaving it all behind and letting the bullies win had never crossed her mind. She couldn't remember feeling so hopeless as she felt right now. Now she felt like she had no choice but to fight back. To throw the whole of her being at Judith, to stop her constant torture. That was all she wanted to do, she imagined activating her powers and choking Judy on the spot, throwing chairs everywhere in a fit of rage.

But then she'd be expelled. Her family would never stop being disappointed in her. She'd get a few cheap thrills but never the love and respect of her fellow classmates. Her future would be ruined. What was the lesson her Scare Instructor always imparted on her?

"Cheap thrills die on steep hills. But scaring for real, elevates you ever higher." She felt her anger die away, as a sense of hopelessness and defeat crept in its place. She was so numb to all of this.

As the schooldate ended, she looked up at the school entrance, the chimera statue bronzed on a high pedestal. At Hades Prep Academy, excellence and achievement was demanded of all its students. Some of the monsters called it a dropout zone for monsters with no future and a wasteful socializing den for those rich enough to stay. But, Principal Athena, adeptly named after the goddess of wisdom, wanted a good place where monsters could be treated with love and kindness.

Love and kindness.

She thought those words while she looked back at the school's elegant entrance while leaving the building.

Frieda took out her hair clips from her pocket and then put her wet hair up. It would hold for 10 minutes until she got back to her dorm and took a brief shower. The girl put up her hood and took a walk. The sky was so deep purple with a yellow moon it almost seemed painted. A man with the appearance of a human but with a very unusual shape came out from one of the school entrances and began walking towards Frieda.

She wondered who he was.

He reached Frieda's side and smiled at the student monster.

"Hello? Hello?"

She had a bad habit of saying hello when someone called, she did it even when people introduced themselves and when she was having an intense conversation with someone. Her father used to call her 'Polly-phone Frieda'.

"I mean- Yes sir? Can I help you?" She tried not to keep her head down around adults, as not to be craven with respect.

The man didn't respond. He handed her a small paper notes, which she looked at briefly.

"Join the Culinary Collective if you want stardom."

-The Talent Agent

"C-culinary collective? What's that?" She turned around and he was already gone.

She went back to her dorm, she was now curious about what the note said. Frieda liked the place that she stayed. It was near the lake and the main entrance of the academy. It was also near a bakery, but Frieda was not the kind of girl who liked sweets.

Soon she set against her bed, looking up at posters of rockstars and celebrities like Tailed Swift the BatMinx, and Catty Purry the wereLynx. Lady Ra-ra with her bandages and Egyptian setpieces and latex catsuits always made her blush. This year she was planning on joining the Music Ward, as one of her electives. Students over their four year tenor here had to take atleast 2 club electives to graduate, and even as a Junior she had not yet taken one. When she flipped through her phone on the school's website, curiously the club list did mention a baking club called the Culinary Collective, run by the greenhouse ghoul named Aline Albion. While she was somewhat unsure about it, the website said no one else had even signed up yet. If she ended up the only one in the club, that'd be a blessing and an easy checkoff. It was a life skill, and she didn't really talk much to people. She liked staying by herself, but she was kind of lonely. She missed her old friends. Maybe after a year or so of studying at some Universcarity someday she could make some real friends. Deciding it was a good choice, she pressed 'Accept' and rolled into bed. It wasn't as comfortable as the metal bed with iron sheets back home, but it would do.

 

The next day Frieda headed back to school. She arrived 30 minutes early to avoid the usual harassment and spent her early morning in the cafeteria. Once classes began she'd hopped from class to class avoiding drama and controversy.  The library had stairs to an upstairs cafe. So after eating Frieda would go up in the clock tower and read books by her lunch. When she finished reading she would take a brief break in study roomand read some other books. Sometimes she would write or draw in the books or go to the art class and look at the art pieces in the art department she had made. Once she got bored of it she would go back to her dorm and go to sleep waiting for her next class. There were festivals, bakesales, concerts and skating fests frequently on campus. She didn't do all that many of those things. She was still too shy. She did want to become an actress though. Her dream was to play the leading lady in the new adaptation of a book or screenplay. But the day seemed to go uneventful, before she knew it this was her last class of the day. As soon as the teacher left the students began to leave for home and school for her was over for the day. Finally she walked to her locker in the late afternoon, she unlocked the door of her locker after rotating the lock and rolled her eyes. The Spraypaint aside, her locker was decorated with black and white fake 'vintage' photos of her from yesterday, screaming from her lungs with a mop atop her head. Each photo was captioned 'Hottie McMoppy", the photos spilling out.

She slammed it shut and checked her phone, and soon headed to the farthest wing in the academy, right beyond the Cryptoid Conservation Center, knocking twice.

"Come in!" A sing-sing voice invited her. The kitchen was ahead, time to cook.

Inside was a large classroom kitchen next to a greenhouse where some students were doing yoga. Miss Albion was a young woman in her early 20s with pale red skin and pale blonde hair. She had large blue eyes, almost matching a color of her outfit. Her outfit consisted of a cream top with yellow stars and a pink skirt. she had weird clumpy magenta sleeves over her broad shoulders. She wore her hair in a bun, a flower-print bandana overhead where her bangs waved out. Her face was beautiful and she smiled a lot. She always wore big earrings and a heart necklace. Her weight seemed to suggest over 280 lbs, and from her acumen Frieda could tell she was a Bunyip. "Hello Frieda!" She said brightly.

Frieda rolled her eyes and sighed at the greeting. She didn't want to talk to this woman, she was a complete stranger and she didn't really like strangers.

"If you're here for Yoga class, you're a little late but you can jump right in!"

"I'm here for the Culinary Collective, club? Is this it?"

Albion seemed genuinely surprised. "Oh! Grace of graciousness! You'd be the first! I'm so grateful for you, you have no idea, so grateful. Why the natural order of things does demand balance find it ways way into the cosmos. All harmonies come to those who wait. When we think the universe is unaligned, we must remember the greater spirit tends to really the energy of..."

She continued to talk, her lips never leaving. While the club instructor prattled on Frieda closed the curtains over the glass scree.

"Yes, oh yeah, yep definitely. What do I need to know about the club, I'm just trying to get my electives done. Will you teach me how to bake?"

"Well, I'll help you with anything you need." Albion said confidently. "But truthfully no, I don't give lessons. Giving orders and authority to the overly trusting is major mega-damage to the fabric of the cosmos. I would never corrupt my students by teaching."

Frieda went dead silent,  not understanding this woman or what she was babbling about.  So much of it made no sense to her that she couldn't believe this was real. "Riiiiight. So for the most part, what does this club do?"

Albion perked up, her shoulderpoofs puffing with her. "Oh! You'll be baking from Baba Yaga's Super Pastry Partypack Premier! It's the latest edition from her best-selling show." She showed Frieda the gaudy cookbook, smiling witch with a chef's hat on the cover. She looked like she was wearing a striped shop-baker's outfit from the 50's. "As long as you make something and have fun, you get the credit. Nothing more, just bake." Frieda felt rather uneasy, stumbling back on a cooking counter. "I don't know how to cook. And I guess you're not teaching me either."

The instructor patted her shoulder. "Our club runs on a system of trust. Not orders or rules. I want you to trust in the people around you in life." Albion noticed Frieda's sudden demeanor seemed rather dejected, implying she wasn't buying it. She had never made something, let alone bake, she couldn't do this. "You'll like it here, I promise. Trust is paramount. Once you do, you'll be able to do things you couldn't before. This club is designed to help you build self-confidence, but to gain more confidence from others, too."

A few seconds later Frieda saw that the door to the greenhouse was open and that one of her classmates was out of the greenhouse, wearing a nylon bodysuit. She left swiftly.

"Confidence from others huh.." Frieda couldn't remember when others had ever given her anything but a series of endless humiliations. "It seems I'm the only one who joined so, fine what the heck. A participation credit is still a credit." "Attagirl!" Albion threw her arms around her in a swollen hug, her mighty thick arms shaking the Banshiek's bones a bit.

Frieda wasn't sure how she felt at all. It seemed an awfully strange idea that baking and cooking would help her grow in any way. Soon Albion grabbed her purse and waved to the yoga students out the screen behind the black curtain, then said she had to go and left promptly right as her 'Club' began. The misfit student was alone. She turned to the cookbook and wall of cabinets, feeling like she was in a nightmare. The shelves filled with bowls and other kitchen accoutrements were confusing. She felt like she was in a restaurant and she had no idea how to cook.

Nonetheless, the girl was willing to brave such uphill challenges. She sat down, flipped through the pages and started to absorb as much information as she could. Once she had the basic instructions down, Frieda ran up through the cabinents and started gathering ingredients. Minutes flowed into an hour, and before she knwe it she was stirring the mix for a soufflé into a large pot, not great but still a work in progress. One step lead to the next, mixing ingredients had been messy but in her difficulty her cooking took a backseat to her imagination, fantasyzing about being a popular singer, sometimes singing into the chef's spoon until she lost focus.

The glass screen opened, catching her by surprise. She covered her mouth to hide a scream.

A loud crash resounded from the kitchen. Something hit the floor with a clunk. It was so loud that it brought her back to reality. She had been so engrossed in her thoughts she didn't notice her bowl toppled on the ground, mix spilt. The crowd tiptoed around the mess, no word, no goodbye. When she was alone again, the mess on the floor was there to remind her.

The Banshiek screamed.

I would like to have the reader experience her anguish and pain. I know it's a little difficult to picture, but it helps to imagine that all of us are in that position, no one gets out of that position. This is the situation for the Banshiek who could be the hero for the audience or be simply the Banshiek with no audience.

If the Banshiek cannot handle the situation, what do you think would be the reaction? It is a very interesting situation. I'm curious to know what you would do. Read on, cutiepies! No commercial breaks here.

Frieda had blew it. This would continue for the next 2 weeks.

At times Frieda would feel as if she was hearing murmurs in the room, but she couldn't let such paranoia get to her. She used everybit of creative focus she had to try to bake through the book's recipes. The awkwardness each time remained when Miss Albion would praise her cooking, no matter how fraught the results. Her cooking was horrible, I must emphasize. The participation credit didn't mean anything when the damage to her ego set in. She was in a state of limbo, passing a checkmark but not succeeding at developing the value she wanted.

She continued to be invited to join the yoga group, but they honestly felt to her like a spiritual circle jerk. She felt unqualified.  As she watched the time pass on her calendar, Frieda was starting to feel desperate. She sat back in her chair in the kitchen and wondered if maybe she should just quit already. It wasn't her responsibility to be some great chef, she'd never be successful at this she felt.

One afternoon, after staring at the smoking oven and the black tarry treats meant to be cupcakes Frieda felt at her wits end. Putting aside the stress, she went to the back cabinets to sneak a candybar, the student ready to crunch her failures away. When she flipped through the candy storage, something below caught here eye. "Hm?" There were more books below, many cheap subpar cookbooks by commercialized authors. but one at the bottom was partially out of place. The paper was white and the leather binding.

Frieda looked in awe, and plucked the Tome out.

YES. Finally. Wretched thing.

The kitchen had grown dark. Frieda sat down on the cool tile floor and turned the book over. When she flipped open to the recipes, the page she was on it had nothing to do with sweets or food. Instead she was faced with something different. It seemed like a guide to magic of some sort. There were chapters about, magical users? Witches? There were trainee witches at this school and everything she heard about Witch Schools, lead her to believe their semesters cost you an arm and and a leg with very few coven opportunities. She never had thought of pursuing a magical education, luckily for her there were baking recipes too. Where had this Tome come from?

Surely it was meant for someone else, no one would force her to cook from some crazy recipe spellbook. That'd be insane.

"Hello?" she shouted. It seemed no one was around.

That old, old feeling of isolation came upon her again. It was late again, and so she went home.

The next morning was cloudy and cold. The sky was a greyish colour, which didn't look at all like the sky Frieda was accustomed to. She sat alone in her dorm, reading the Tome. She had to admit, the recipes in it weren't bad. She had never actually tried any of the spells on the pages, but there was something about the book that made her feel at ease. She didn't even feel scared reading about spells like how the book said it'd only take a few words to cast a spell, if she knew how to taste magic first.

Taste magic? That's nonsense.

"Ahem.."

Time drifted along a delicate movement. Sometimes she would write or draw in the Tome's blank pages or go to the Lycan art class and place stickers on the pages she wrote in. Once she got bored of it that night she would go back to her dorm and go to sleep. The school had festivals, concernts, bakesales. She didn't do all that many things. She was still too shy. She did want to become an actress though. Her dream was to play the leading lady in the new adaptation of a book or screenplay, she never saw herself as a cook. Something about this book seemed to draw her in however. Her head twisted and she looked around the coom confused..

...Was it just her, or were these days repeating? Were her thoughts at odds? She felt a sense of deja vu. Probably not, she shrugged.

The following week had her fortune turn in the Cullinary Collective. Frieda started to cook from the new Tome she'd found, happy to be pushing herself for once. The ingredients seemed almost miraculously always ready when she needed them, and she began to cook pudding, pies, cupcakes and even flancakes. She was now more confident than she ever had been, making mistakes and laughing at them.

On occasion, the Yoga class would come in and she'd let them try her recipes. They usually approved with astounding praise, taking a liking to the Banshiek girl. Sometimes they'd mistake her for a Banshee and she'd kindly correct them she was a Banshiek, and they'd laugh over a slice of cake. She was even starting to earn the notice of her tormentors.

They dropped a cake on her head when she went to go open up her locker.

Frieda couldn't stand the sound of laughter.

The sound of mockery.

"Hear you're on the baking ward now, Fried twit. An apron suits you, maybe someday you can cator my little sister's Horror mitzvah" Judith would say the next day.

These monster tics and quacks are really quite atrocious.

Annoyed, but not agitated or pushed to the days when her instinct to scream would shred the airwaves, Frieda made her way to class. She was so fixated on the tome that she had a hard time concentrating, its recipes holding more interest than the biology of Merpeople or the historical events of Trolls.

The only time she felt a truly intense rush for life was when she was back in that club, whipping up more treats with all the ingredients she could find. There was one ingredient however that she could not obtain, as it did not exist in the Monster realm. It was small, extremely tiny, a blue orb of pure sweetness. Some kind of jewel or eyeball too precious to come about in this moonlight driven world?

She stood there, transfixed and hypnotized by the jewel of the sky, the

evanescent moon.

From the glass screendoor, someone knocked.

"It's not locked. Stupid yoga geeks.." She went over to the screen.

Frieda moved the curtain, and almost fell back. The screendoor slid open.

A furry woman, with pitch-black fur and bat features, wings and snout, dressed like a pixie with sparkly wings and a vinyl pink dress floated into the room from the window.

The woman took her hand and bowed slightly at the waist, her batlike voice echoed with a sultry timbre. She pulled Frieda into a close embrace. She smiled and the monster teen's heart melted in her chest. The Fairy Gothmother was breathtaking. She smelled sweet and her arms felt warm, like a hearth around her waist.

"My, my, what a lovely place you have here, Darling. I think that's why I've kept you around. You need a woman to bring you around. There's no need for you to work out your suffering without my blessed quack."

"My.. quack? What's that?"

"Yes! Your blessed quack. Everyone has a quack, and when I grant you yours, you'll be able to wow the world duck to your rights."

Something about the way this woman spoke didn't sit right with Frieda. The silly childlike phrasings didn't mesh with the wineglass in her hand. As if taking notice, the gothmother flew closer and held her arms, staring her straight in the eyes with dark purple rings in her pupils.

"You always were a shy duck. I shall begin to address your lack of beauty through means less crude. But it's not too late to make up for your neglect. I would love to be the one to make you the gorgeous woman you'll be. And at any rate.." She ran her black nails through Frieda's hair. "You're going to get a quack. I won't dare leave a poor hideous child like you without my blessing!"

Frieda's heart pounded in her chest and a shiver wracked her body. "I'm sorry.." She felt as though she had just been slapped.

The goth mom chuckled, in a way that made Frieda want to puke.

"Don't you worry my child, I can handle it. After all, you can get a quack anytime you want." She placed a delicate kiss on Frieda's forehead.

"What kind of quack am I going to get?"

"The kind that makes even abominations such as yourself beloved and beautiful! A complete makeover, wouldn't you like that?"

Frieda scratched her head, kinda replying confused and thoughtlessly. "I guess so.."

"Atta girl." The Gothmother winked.

The fairy reached under her cloak and pulled out a small wooden box, the size of her hand. She opened it and withdrew a small clear vial, filled with a strange white liquid. A look of wonder passed over her face as she placed it over Frieda's eye.

The bat sipped her wine. There was a moment of stunned silence. "Ah sweet girl," she said in a lilting tone, her eyes focused only on Frida's sunken face. "I'm going to give you a little of this. Everytime you feel life gets you down, drink some of it, and it will enhance your life before you know it!"

She leaned in close, and whispered to the wannabe-wouldbe Recipe Witch.  "You sure you want to do this? This nectar will bless you with a Quack and make your heart and beauty perfect! It will transform you into the starlight muse of your daydreams."

The woman took her hand and bowed slightly at the waist, her batlike voice echoed with a sultry timbre. She pulled Frieda into a close embrace. She smiled and the monster teen's heart melted in her chest. The Fairy Gothmother was breathtaking. She smelled sweet and her arms felt warm, like a hearth around her waist.

"Yes," she sighed.

"I will take such good care of you. Just give me a moment to finish my wine and then I will begin your transformation."

She waved her hand to her glass, and a swirling mist moved in front of it, then formed a glass of wine that floated in the air above her. She took a gulp, and the color and texture changed, becoming brown and tart with flecks of red and blue.

"Just a little bit to warm the body up, and then we will begin the process. I can speed up the magic but it'll be up to you, Darling. We'll see where it takes us. Just get naked and relax."

"Ok," Frieda said, taking off her clothes. "I've seen enough of the naked women on the Internet to know what I'm getting into."

"Yes, I'm sure. I have my ways." The bat cackled and took another gulp.

"Darling, it's time for you to be perfect! It will only be another 3 weeks until you're completely turned. You need to keep up your strength. Oh, and if you need me, just holler. My little quack is always here for you." She tapped Frieda's naked body, and the Banshiek felt like a painful shock went through her entire body, finally settling in her brain and tingling "Poor lonely bird, doesn't have any friends. I will fix you up right, my angel cake. For now the Quack casting is done, I've blessed you with your transformation. All else, I leave to time."

The woman spun around rapidly, wings flapping herself into a whirlwind. And before the teen knew it, she was gone, vanished with the wind. She was alone. All alone in the world. But I'm not. I have you.

Frieda turned her head spooked. "Have you?" What did that mean, who said that? But the Fairy Gothmother had already left the room.

As though in a trance she ran up to the sill and looked out. It was nighttime already, had she been here for hours? The white vial was still on the table. The window revealed a perfect view of the sky and she could see her favorite constellation, the beautiful Orion. "Yes, It was the gothmother who turned me. I thought she was gone.. but she was."

The sky was full of stars, like jewels in her eyes. Frida's mind was in a haze. She cleaned up, went back to her dorms and let her head clear.

The next day time in the hall, she waved to the gorgon. "How do I look today, Judith?" Frieda said, feeling like she'd been spending more time on her appearance lately. She had a nice voice, a deep, soothing and quiet voice, that spoke with great compassion. Her hair had a light, wavy brown, rather than its heavy, long unkempt style before. It was still long enough that when it fell on her face it covered most of her cheekbones. Her eyes were the palest emerald cyan that you can imagine. Her skin, her cheeks, her chin, everything, had the soft and white quality that most fair-skinned folk have, not as pale as a ghoul or as smooth as a vampire however. Still she had a round, almost plump, shapely face. Frieda now had a wide mouth, with rosy lips. She was considering trying out a new shade of blue lipstick often only reserved for snobby ghouls, vampires and clowns. Her nose, also rosy, was short and button-like, a nose that looked like it was always sweet as a gumdrop.

"Looks like you gave some salon chic a royal headache, Fried twit.."

"Hey! I finally look nice lately!"

"You're a twit, Fried. You think you look nice? You look like a clown! Now go wash up, so you can learn some manners, you know!"

Judith snapped a selfie, then her and her friends stormed off. The gorgon student couldn't be pleased it seemed.

Frieda shrugged her shoulders, saying, "Whatever." She walked down the hallway, going to her next class.

That afternoon when she went back to the club's kitchen, she sat down and placed the Tome on the counter poised to see what sagely instructions it could offer her next. Her excitement was genuine, as if this book held all the answers and spoke to her as a friend. It would speak to her as a friend. It's recipes wouldn't judge her, when she cooked them it would be willing to forgive her mistakes. And as she'd learn from it she'd feel as if it was saying 'The thing that makes you different could just be the thing that makes you great rather than accept that as-is, she was merely a freak.

"What?"

Some truths were hard to swallow. The book for example, was from some dusty shelf and its main attraction seemed to be a freakshow of sluts and painted, tarted up whores. Why was she so interested in it again? She'd been learning to cook just fine on her own without resorting to voodoo. The more she thought about it, the less appealing the book appeared to her, distasteful and tacky really. She thought for a bit it'd make her unique, but why would she ever want to be unique? She needed to stay out of this black magic. Play the course, stick with the crowd, and soon they'd like her. No they'd love her. Her fans awaited.

She pushed the book back onto the shelf and out of a strange feeling of unease, decided not to use it anymore afterall. Taking out Baba Yaga's cookbook, she smiled and flipped through it happily. With this book, she wouldn't be a freakshow. It had every recipe a best-seller could offer afterall, why wouldn't she use it? She just wanted to fit in afterall.

By the end of the hour she'd baked a creamcake pudding with a side of nutmeg tea, complete with lowfat milk and processed sugar substitute. The yoga club left at their usual time and clamored around her fantastic, healthy and trendy diet glowup. They quickly took selfies among her plates and showered her with amazement. Frieda felt her confidence uptick as they snacked and chattered.

Life over the next few days seemed to improve for Frieda. Life felt fast and dramatic.

Frieda was an excellent baker. The yoga club became her fan club, snapping photos of her and giving her gifts. After a few days, Frieda was in love with her fans. At night, she'd close her eyes, and the memories she'd experienced during the day would play over and over again.

But her parents had other ideas. No longer willing to look down on the community, they invited Frieda to attend a party that they were hosting for one of their business associates at Wine and Graveyard Spirits Inc. When they heard about her taking up baking they laughed, but their daughter practically begged for the opportunity to cator for them. Frieda watched her parents berate her outside her dorm. But they had a change of heart. Her parents had always insisted on seeing her every weekend or so and now she'd make good on that, in exchange for giving her a chance to bake at their big evening. That was the change they didn't count on.

The day of the party was long. All the time they had before the party was spent preparing for the occasion. They'd cleaned the house in record time, it being their first grand party. They'd picked up the finest food and drink, and Frieda had worked tirelessly as a chef. Her parents couldn't understand her desire to be different, but it was her way of trying to be normal.

The party was a blast. But after three hours of nonstop dancing, socializing and eating, the parents were exhausted. Frieda was too. She'd been a real social butterfly the entire time, feeling the wind of change blow in her  direction. It had taken more effort than she'd expected to be accepted and liked. But she was liked, and that made all of this worth it. And the cake she baked hadn't gone over so well regardless. With her parents, there were always some things they couldn't compromise on however.

Despite being exhausted, the associates and their girls made their way home. After all, it was well past midnight, and Frieda was eager to do it all again tomorrow. But when the party was over, Frieda noticed her parents were a little disappointed.

"Come on baby, you were the center of attention tonight." her father said to her, a hint of disappointment and jealousy in his voice. Her mother seemed disgustingly disappointed in her for different reasons. "I didn't like the way you were hanging out with those associate's daughters, they're not your elk. I wish you'd try something different."
"I thought you wanted me to make friends, to be like the kids at my school?"

Her mother shook her head. "I know but.. you're not."

Frieda ignored her, she would never let this harpy stop her self-promotion.

For a moment, she paused. Her mother was a harpy, but she would never just stop listening to her.

The girl woke up in bed, tired and sore. She must've  fallen asleep studying. The outside of her dorm was drizzling rain with the usual dreary backdrop. Frieda got up early to head out, when she saw the Tome on her computer counter. "When did that get there?" Feeling some clarity, she started to look through it with fascination. The Banshiek made sure to memorize one of the pastry recipes before heading to school.

As she walked through the halls, she admired Judith's croptop and leather-mini skirt with an expensive diamond-crusted belt, the trick of makeup prettying her face, how she was so bossy, appreciated her singing talent. She shook her head. Judith noticed her oogling and her snakes hissed.  "Take a picture, it'll last longer twit." She took some glitter and splashed it on the girl's face, stinging her eyes. Her trio laughed and walked away.

Walking to a waterfountain to splash it out, Frieda saw something odd in her reflection. "Huh? I don't remember putting this much makeup.. it looks hot tho." But she figured she better wash it out, and scrubbed thoroughly. However it wouldn't clean off, as if was permanently tattoo'd to her face.

"Ugh, whatever." She figured she could leave it, for now.
The classes went on as usual, her head seemingly planted face-down on her desk more times than usual. When she finally finished the schoolday and headed to the Yoga class- err, to the baking club, everything was the wrong kind of quiet. The girl debated using the new recipe she found in the Tome but she'd forgotten it. She felt an anxious tic spike in the back of her mind, like a porcipine in the back of her mind she couldn't help but feel rattle. When she stirred up the mixing bowl, limber arms gyrating in a rote repetition of movements that seemed to cause her tremors, that silence nipped at her in the worst way. She sat back on a chair and placed it in the oven, setting the timer too long and temperature too high.

The yoga crowd came out, and all of them gossiped and snickered at her as usual, the judging glances and looks robbing her of any dignity. The oven dinged, and she ran to pull out her Peacan Pastry. In the tin was a smoldering black mess smelling of sulfar. The other students laughed, and a cyclops took a pic of it titling it 'Fakin Bakin gets me no Datin.'

Frieda collapsed into a fetal position. Not even her trademark scream was heard.

It was thundering out, she turned to the windowscreen, then to the white vial still on the table. Rushing to unscrew it, Frieda started chugging more of the white goo down. Then she sunk back into the chair again.

Outside, the clouds had all disappeared. A bright white light shone through the windows "What in the name of Buddha is going on here, Frieda?" Miss Alion said running into the room. "My god.. this looks spectacular!" She held up the Peacan Pastry, looking delicious with golden brown carmel coating the top. The Yoga class hurried in and clamored around it as she started to cut them pieces.

"Hey Frieda?"

Frieda, looked up and gasped, seeing all those faces looking in on her lovingly. She knew, she was different from everyone. But she didn't have to be, she could be loved.

It's funny. When Frieda turned eleven, the world fell into a new reality after taking baking classes. She had been living on that world, the dull one she was born in, and in a few years she would be fourteen, given personal baking lessons and instruction from Yaga Inc, catching on quick and by the next day she'd be eighteen, a starlet in highschool. And then, someday she would become a woman. A sophisticated woman with a fancy career and success. She never thought it would come to this. But then again, why would there ever be any doubt?

"I love you so much. Do you want to bake for my sweet 19?" Stacy Fangarella, a vampire teen asked.

"You've got to try the bakesale never next week!" Franken Lumenberg said taking her arm and selfieing with her.

Everyone was happy, and that was the best part. This was their world, and they had everything they could ever want. They were happy, they were content.

"Am I?" Frieda asked, seeing everyone smile and laugh, the ghoulpphones snapping away. The phones and  flashes seemed to carry her mind away through time.

Carrying her away from herself even.

It all happened in a very very short period of time, with just a bit over a week. The world suddenly fell in love with Frieda. The people around her. No one knew what she was. No one knew her past. It was an unknown thing, but the point was everyone loved her and they loved her baking even more. They saw what she did, and saw the beauty that she was and it made them love her even more. No one could have really known her. Everything went like a dream, running towards what gave a whole new life. So much love and support. She was no longer alone. She could show the world who she was and they loved her so much.

The first thing she did next day was throw away the Tome into the garbage. Even still, she felt as if she was drawing from its magic at times even while discarding it.

She wore more makeup that morning, she took selfies of her Baba Yaga recipes and they got 5000 likes each. The Banshiek socialized on the web and in the halls, she was even starting to get Judith to warm up to her. Every morning for the next two weeks she'd bake her schoolmates lowcarb, healthy snacks and photogenic treats, and at times she'd even started to join the Yoga sessions themselves. A girl has to stay hip and fit afterall right? She never thought about silly things like being herself, she bought fashion magazines of the latest haunted sales and spooktacular fashions. The girl dyed her hair blond, curled it long and even practiced talking pretty and walking in petite heels. She was steadily becoming, dare she say it, popular. Life was magical.

But as soon as that 2nd week was up, and the magic and love was over. The world suddenly became a bit less friendly. People were afraid of her. People kept away. People called her names, and her anxiety returned. She wasn't allowed to be the person she had hoped she would be. It was ironic, because in some ways she had achieved her goal of "becoming a woman" and so what? What was a woman anyhow? What was she supposed to be like? The same thing she had always been. A boring person who knew nothing about what her body was actually capable of. A freak. A monster even other monsters disliked.

Frieda took a cold shower and washed the blond out of her hair, feeling unsure if that thick greasy hairdye was ever even applied to begin with.

She was alone again in the clubroom, fame and popularity behind her. When woken up on the counter, she felt as if ages had passed and she was just waking up again. In the bathroom, she stood on the counter top on her tippy toes and looked in the mirror. Her face was painted like a powderpuff, why did she put on so much makeup? She looked like a clown- literally, face creme white, mouth with alligator lips painted in blue lipstick, deep cyan eyeshadow. When did she buy these expensive clothes? These weren't her.
Everything hurt and she was shaky and miserable.

Luckily, there was a simple elegant solution to that.

She heard a woman's voice, but she couldn't make out what she was saying. The girl, rubbing her baggy tired eyes looked towards the white vial. In a hurry she uncorked it and started to drink. Frieda's eyes fluttered, feeling something smooth and scandalous invade, as if not only texturing her mind but the fabric of existence around her. Her eyes started to droop like a calamity, focused on all the sinful, wrong and oh so much better things in life. She was center-stage material, she knew it  for sure.

"No! This isn’t me. This is nothing like me. I..."

Frieda. You’re so beautiful.

She looked at her hands, at her reflection in the mirror. Her hands were polished with sharp blue nail polish.

She was tired, and it showed in her eyes. This wasn’t her.

This was the woman they thought she was. The women who was seen, the woman they needed.

The woman who should never have existed.

But which of her was that?

I am. A voice said.

She closed her eyes and gambled her existence in silence. As if in trance, she reached her pockets and found the white vial there, sipping a smooth sip of the milky goop inside again. Something dark, like the shadow, but it was like an aura that flowed over her, all around her, thick and coating her, and she couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe and passed out.

She smiled and got up from her bed, a vision in lace and silk. Had she been dreaming? She could be quite ditzy at times. The girl found the Tome, that recipe book on her counter again and tossed it in the trash. She did her makeup and updated her blog. The Banshiek headed to school, waving to all the gnolls, gremlins, ghouls and goblins she could see and shaking her vinyl skirt to showoff her booty.

Her body was small but she had a curvy booty and a set of big tits. She wore a tight, white tank top with a tight blue skirt, her favorite skirt for being hot and plastic, yet classy. Her hair was in perfect pigtails and her eyes were lined in makeup. She felt like a million bucks, like walking through a dream. The schoolbell rang and she sashayed off to class. She was never one for schoolwork or thinking for herself, but a single bite of her sweet, sugary baking could turn an F into an easy A for any teacher easily, and if not some sexy fun after class always did the trick.

As she packed up for the day, Judith approached her. "So 'Eda, you wanna hang out at my pool party this afternoon? It's gonna be totes fire. And with you there, it'll be a blast!" she smirked as she puckered her lips.

"OMG, That would be killer, you know I always love to party out at your place," she giggled, the bright blue gloss on her lips popping like a bubble.

"Awesome, see you later then 'Eda," she said as she waved and blew her a kiss, before walking away.

They had been besties for ages, she couldn't wait to hang out that night. She went to her club, having baked the night before perfectly from Baba Yaga's recipe book. Baba Yaga was her idol, she wanted to be as plastic and televised as her someday, on billboards and magazines. The perfect image of conformity in commercialized goods. She was extremely proud of the yogurt pumpkin spice treats she made and handed out, before putting on sheeny rubber stretchpants and posing with the other girls. The girls really knew how to mellow her vibe, y'know? They brought out her spiritual center and all that deep stuff.

That friday 'Eda' went to Judith's mansion party.

She had the coolest parties with amazing decorations and stuff. Everything made her so totally excited and OMG they loved her cooking too. Sure she wasn't special, in fact she was as basic as they came just like pretty much um, everyone else? Blond was in style, skirt mass produced, when she danced on the manor floor with the others one could hardly tell her apart from indistinguishable teens. but 'Eda was pretty and cute, others found her waaaaay hot. They totes loved her, her snacks fer sure the best.

The night went on splendidly, and she was invited to her BFF Judith's room. They played pin the nail on Frankina, tying up the nerd girl and spinning her in duct tape with a giggling rancor. They ended it by throwing her atop a rubbery pooltoy and drifting her out back.

After was the highlight of the night, 15 minutes in horror.
Her and Judith sat in her room closet, exchanging lips.

"I love you Frieda, I love you so totes much. I want you to be my wife, to have a beautiful daughter together. I want to have like the most beautiful house." She smiled down at her, she had come to her last night in a dream. She thought, how could she forget her? Her eyes met his as she answered her back.

"I love you." She whispered and smiled.

Judith kissed her gently. Eda exchanged her juicy lips back. She dreamed of what would one day be an idyllic wedding night. They made out nonstop for 30 minutes and the game was only supposed to last 15. Soon the night concluded and the party ended with a bang.

'Eda was getting out of the limo to head home when she heard her favorite pop song come on the radio, 'Spook Valley for the Weekend'. "Oh em GEE I love this song!"
Everything was sooo perfect. Everything was totes normal. She was...

She was... Who? Not who, but what. Whatever.

W-whatever she was now. She was, whatever it was that was trapped inside her head, in a place that was never meant to be. A sharp pain, and then another. A strange buzzing, something ready to crack. Just the squeak of the limo wheel, so silly! "N-no."

She decided, like the vapid partygirl she was to stop overthinking and obey- "NO."

Dearie you're no fun. "SHUTUP.SHUTUP.SHUTUP."

The memories came again, and she was back.

Freida gasped in her bed, throwing off her covers. Everything felt wrong. Her neck hurt. And her head. And her brain! Her head hurt so bad. She opened her sunken eyes to the moonlight that came in through the window. Freida rolled over onto her back.

Freida felt for the source. She didn't have to move very far. The voices were in her head, and a part of her wanted to listen to them. Her self-awareness resisted the temptation.

What was going on? There was too much in her head. It hurt too bad to think. She felt something on her head, and she groaned. Inspite of all the trauma that she felt right now, there was one memory from the nightmare that didn't subside, in fact she replayed it again and again and ignored the entire erasure of her identity around it.

It was the memory of making out with Judith. That smokin gorgon who had dealt her years of punishment, she could still taste her lips, covering her mouth and blushing intensely.

"I AM SO GAY."

The next day, Freida found the Recipe tome outside her dorm door, and rolled her eyes. Taking it with her, she went to school and tried to get thru her usual classes. Judith called her oversized hoodie a discount trashbag and said its contents were fitting- for the first time ever she was glad to be bullied.

At the end of the schoolday she went to the Magical Hexppreciation Ward, a book club in the library for studious witches too unpopular to hang with the other witches and rich magical students. Frieda tapped the shoulder of Frankina Felephantina. The studious witch, she'd shared a few playdates in middleschool and seemingly had no memories of being tied up at a party.

"Salutations Freida." she said

"Whazzup girl?" Freida said.

"Same old same old, you know, school. I mean I'm really busy with my course work. Incantation formulas are killing me.." Frankina said with a sigh.

"I hear you, but you're sharp. Hey, could you help me out with a little something? I really need to pick your brain."

Frankina raised her glasses. "Yes?"

She dangled a white vial in front of her face. "This."

"Hm?" The mint-skinned girl took the vial. "What is it?"

"Drink it!" Frieda said, covering her lips. "D-don't."

"You want me to drink this perfidious swill? Ugh, it smells like fairydust. and soy milk." Frieda tried to get control of herself but instead giggled "Oh come on girl, you got magic too! So, if you do the math you got like, omg more than, like, like, I dunno, a billion percent more magic than me! You don't need any studying or other potions. You got the magic that flows through your veins. You're a power nerd! You're a power witch! Just take the vial, and get your magic back, girl!" The Banshiek hid in her sleeves and pulled at her throat, as if hoping she could prevent the words from coming out.

"Please ignore that, it's the stupid voice telling me what to do and how to feel..."

Frankina could tell something was off, she had an intuition for magic like that. "Right, got it. You've got some curse going on or something. Give me just a lil bit."

Frieda nodded and let her work, pacing about in the library. Every ­second seemed to weigh on her like nothing she'd ever felt. When Frankina wiggled her fingers, she practically sprang towards the screen.

"I think I've got something..."

The banshiek scrolled on and on, her ire toiling as she read on through.

However, some are depicted as being gentle and benevolent; others who can take the form of a kindly mother to her child, or a beautiful maiden. These two varieties appear to be more in-tune with the mythologies, cultures and histories from which they arise, where there is an inherent link between the Devil Weaver and the divine...

She practically pressed cheek to cheek with the stitched up witch sitting on the chair reading.

They're also often regarded as the source of many other magical folk, including demons, faeries and shapechangers, all as their thralls. In the folklore they've been associated with the devil in the popular imagery, a part they've often depicted as ugly, demonic, cruel and conniving, but also seen as the 'mother' of many others including fairies, monsters, monsters, and others. They're also commonly associated with the night, being night dwellers and creatures of darkness....

Everything came to a boil.

They are also feared in some realms of lore as having the ability to turn their victims into their thralls through an ability known as "Storytelling Magic" which forces their victims to live through dreams and crafted memories, essentially turning them into characters of their own design in return for stealing their soul, magic and bodies. By doing this, they are able to steal the memories of the individuals and gain new skills and magical abilities, entering into their lives while the target is trapped in a neverending dream. Their spellcraft consists of various charm spells, dream manipulation, storycraft and divination. As a magical creature, Devil Weavers are thought to inhabit dream realms where...

She felt like she would scream. But against all emotion and turmoil, she cleared her throat and sat up. "I've seen enough." Folding her arms, the teen walked away from the computer.

"How do I get rid of them?"

Frankina adjusted her glasses. "It says here that Changenooks cannot be defeated in native reality or in the waking world. To be fully overcome, they can only be defeated in the dream reality that the Weaver has trapped them in... Otherwise they can keep guiding the victim's story and existence as they please."

Frieda thought that was far too dangerous and risky, she could never overcome such a mysterious threat. She was dainty and pretty, not brave. No. It'd be nicer if she applied her pink nailpolish and forgot all this nonsense over some social-media grabbing cupcakes, she was late for her yoga class afterall. Stop. Her besties would be waiting.

"Stop that!" She clutched her head.
Maybe it was the anger and indignation she felt, but she'd had enough with being toyed with. Every thought that didn't have to do with ripping apart that creature, she'd thoroughly reject.

"I'm going to put a stop to this right now." Frieda declared.

The girl did head back to the baking club however, an hour and a half late after the Yoga students had long left. It rained suddenly.

She saw a white vial on the counter and picked it up, hearing maniacal laughter. The laughter, giggling and voices sounded like a chorus of children.

Your doll life will begin here!

A sweet and delicious life!

It's time for you to begin!

Be fabulous, be famous!

Bake your life away!

Dream your soul away!

Blu Beryl is here to stay.

So come with her and play!  

"Who are you? What do you want with me?"

But the stupid freak already knew who she was dealing with. A Devil Weaver. It was a pretty dumb question in hindsight, she thought as the Baba Yaga cookbook opened up like a storm, catching her attention.

"Piss off. I'm never baking your shitty recipes again. Is that your cookbook? Are you.. the lady on the cover?"

Cockroaches start crawling at her feet and gave her room for freight!

"You're trying to scare me now? Here's one for you- Frieda steps on a disgusting insect and rolls her eyes at these pathetic attempts to scare her."

She could be happy, you know that. Frieda Velsiknov could stop being a nobody if she just accepted being like everyone else. She could be loved and embraced. She knew there was fame and fortune awaiting her in that cookbook.

"Yeah but then I wouldn't be me. I'd be a pusher of a medicore tv chef hosting for badly marketed processed food. Besides, I wanted to be an actor."

Being a fussy customer, like always is never appreciated. Since Frieda couldn't imagine being anything but an actor, the world gave her something to act to. The door locked. The oven turned up high, sending flames across the kitchen. The solution was awaiting her in that cookbook. Or she could burn alive in the next 10 minutes, what a twist? How would her story end?!

"But then who would read your shitty cookbook?"

Someone who is in love with it.

She had to admit, the way the book was designed, it looked really beautiful. It makes you want to read it even more. The front cover is great. Frieda could see her head and arms in a full length portrait. The cover of the cookbook was really impressive. With it being the most beautiful and impressive cookbook she has ever seen. The best one she's ever seen as well. She didn't have to show any skill at all, all she had to do was smile for the cameras someday and keep her mouth shut.

Frieda could smell the smoke, the writing was figuratively on the wall and metaphorically in her brain. She'd had enough. "You want to bake me into your little barbiedoll? Fine, I'll play."

She picked up the vial, seeing it was refilled now, it almost seemed larger in her hand when she unscrewed the top. The girl took a deep breath, and facing her only chance to resolve all this, started drinking the whole thing, the white fluid pouring down her throat and twisting everything around her like a milky dream.

'Eda woke up in a silken blush bed, her room pastel pink. She had vivid memories of last night's ravishing party. Atop her head was a braided blond wig, like one might wear out of the 50's. She had her favorite tea, the scents of lavender and rose, and her favorite chocolates. She heard the dorm girls playing in the room and smiled deeply, feeling the day was going to be a happy one for her. She had no idea what to expect from today, or how to tell time, or what to do with her days. She quickly put her clothes on, a latex version of her school academy uniform with pink stockings and gloves and did her makeup the same shade. Before she went to school, she rewinded a tape of her idol, Baba Yaga. She'd watched all her cooking shows and seen every episode of her talkshow, wanting to memorize her lines and internalize them so well that she hoped to think like the baking media queen.

She walked through the neighborhood and and every detail was exquisitely perfect, bats on every chimney and black-picket fence. She was at the perfect place to live and she was so happy she felt dizzy.

In the halls of school she was a queen, and every day was a new challenge and a new joy. She made sure to look as smart and sophisticated as possible. The staff thought she was the girl who never had a pimple, didn't talk too much and made good grades. It was because of her beauty and fame that no one ever remembered or cared that she was just a girl. She wore a smile all the time and was always a little too cheerful, even for the students. But in her opinion that was impossible, just like Baba Yaga always said, smiles were like butter, you could never have too much. She'd given up on worrying years ago, always snapping pics with her phone.

The spoke the lines and the teachers loved her. She was able to help the kids with their fashion choices and she was always right. 'Eda hoped she could bake something nice for Judy today.

She was so excited that she hadn't thought of quite what yet, but then after class as she was heading back to her locker, she heard her teacher. "Hello ma'am, do you always walk with your books?"

"Yes, it's good for me," she said, a little confused. She was lost for a moment, then she realized she was being accosted, and she smiled apologetically. In her hands were Baba Yaga's cookbook and.. another one?

The Tome.

It sizzled with smoke as if it were sunlight beaming down a vampure. She tossed it to the ground and grabbed her head.

Her wig merge with her hair, and seemed to multiply. Everyone in the school now had the same hairstyle, makeup and uniform. It was harder to tell anyone apart, but in her mind that was good. That was good. Being the same was perfect. Difference was wrong. Standing out was harmful, the synthesis of conformity and mediocrity was just right.
Wasn't it?
No.

She focused hard, leaping for the Tome on the ground. The Recipe Witch book burned off her preppy clothes and gloss like melted wax.

The droves of students, identical and invasive swarmed around her. Perhaps it was best she let go of the book and get back to class.

Her head felt a reawakening. "So.. is this what you were afraid of?" She flipped through the Tome and held it close to the pretty flawless students, they hissed and stepped back. A shadow appeared above her in a swirl, slowly giving form to an insectoid-like being with endless eyes and a large stinger across their thorax, her buzzing echoing in the corridor. They were quite pungent, reeking the halls.

"So that's your true form.." Frieda looked down at the book. "And this is, what you wanted? I found this and started cooking from it. Everything I would've been, all that it offered.. you couldn't have it could you? A creature of emptiness like yourself could never be accepted by this book. So you sought to have the next best thing, to have me. To paint my soul with your.." she turned to the other cookbook.

"Your ick. When she threw the Baba Yaga's book at the ground, cockroaches flooded out. "If I had to guess, this was your own attempt. The wiki said your kind enchants through charms, amulets, grimoires. That best-seller was your hex. All your crappy TV shows, your marketing, your persona- you wanted to enchant everyone just like this Tome can. But it was never enough was it? Your envy, like a bug over spilt sugar.. Did you really think I'd become you? As fake as you? What is it that you want, to make me into someone else, that plastic witch on the TV screen? You couldn't become a Witch like in that Tome, so you sought to be some cheak knockoff, an imitation, and tried to abduct and turn an actual Recipe witch into your puppet before she could even be complete."

"And this.. this book told me I had to sacrifice my heart and soul. I know, that's the beauty of a cookbook, right?" Frieda scoffed, "A cookbook's greatest treasure? A well-crafted dish. Your heart and soul? You'd rather be a witch, than an artist. How could anyone ever accept that? "

The students started to crawl in closer and closer, their bodies melting like slime, growing many arms and legs, insectoid pincers, trying to smear Eda with their slimy grip every second she stood among the mob. Frieda would see every version of Judith, Albion, even Frankina as partially an insect swarming her at once. She would soon vanish within their collective..

"And you see it here?" Frieda waved her hand at the book. "No. I see a life of emptiness, of envy, of bitterness, of bitterness. How could you ever understand?"

The slime started to return the rubbery gloss spreading over Eda's body, it would return her to the perfect girl she would be. It would drain the magic of the Recipe Book completly and fortell the Devil Weaver selling atleast 100 million more copies of her own.

"Oh yeah? You like telling stories over others so bad? Like loud noises you cannot turn off? I'll have you know.." She took out a pink gel pen and started to write in the tome, seeing the same stickers she'd put weeks back. Continuing off the end of the chapter that featured her inside Baba Yaga's realm, she wrote:

And she then overcame the Devil Weaver's daring dream, the Banshiek letting out a shout and cracking the fabric of this world which was weaved of thing but lies. Her shriek so loud, like a massive shockwave, started to suck in everything Baba Yaga had weaved, swallowing the dream wholesale and the witch inside. She would swallow the dream and absorb the mean witch's powers. She would make the witch powerless and trap her in this realm that she herself had sought to use, and start the  dawning of a new era. Eda's chapter would proceed with her victorious, vocal and enlightened.

"I.." the girl took a deep breath, "you.. You don't know what you're writing. I.. You don't even see this world for the gift it is! You're a fool! What did you do?"

"Banshiek's don't go quietly. My turn..." As the mob crawled all over her, dragging Frieda into the gooey mass further and further until her shoulders touched the floor.

"SSSSSSSSSLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!"

The entire school shook, cracks appearing everywhere like shattered glass as her vocal chords went out. The dream was broken by a force so large and powerful, and the Banshiek would suck in everything down her mouth and she would have none of it escaping, but the Banshiek did not stop. The witch's body crumpled in an outstretched form. She was dragged on by the goop as her body was consumed by its evil, and she rolled in the direction of the floor sucked in instead, grasping a locker not to be sucked in. But the Banshiek did not stop screaming. Her mouth screamed so loudly, it transcended reality and even started sucking in the flames dancing throughout the clubroom, saving the school in the process.

She was forced deeper and deeper into the floor until she was completely engulfed in a sea of voices, a vortex sucking her into the abyss of irrelevance. Everything shook in a booming rumble and the entire world flipped over.

And then it was still.

Baba Yaga emerged out of the floor.. a tiny insect.

The room had a new silence, the sound of the wind had stopped and Baba Yaga's evil was finished. "I will give you a chance." Eda said with a sneer, the witch's voice had been crushed, every time she tried to shout it out, her throat would constrict and she would be unable to make a sound, not even a chirp. Eda placed her in two hands as if to crush her and created a glow of light, a bubble. This bubble grew so bright and large that the cooking devil started to feel dizzy, the world fading out.

Miss Baba was in a classroom, dressed in a latex school uniform like the others with the same bobcut everyone in class wore. Where the hell is this?  She took notes like a good student should. She looked over her notebook, a photo of 'Blu Diva' on her desk, her idol. W-what? The one she admired the most and often fantasized about. You cannot DO this to me! The clock ticked nonstop, and Miss Baba was stuck in the same schedule, day after day as a rote member of this school. Nononooo- The teacher walked in and stopped running towards the exit, sitting back on her chair. She took notes, everything moving in slow motion. A permanent smile spread across her face mphffmfk ymmfmmhff!!, and forever in that school she'd stay, like an eternal daydream.

Frieda looked at the black and white photo of the Miss Baba raising her hand, She herself was now awake again. The yoga club, and a few others were trying out her latest recipe, fresh from the Recipe Witch's tome. It'd felt like weeks since that entire incident, but the encounter had left her with some perks. Magic, for one.

She checked her phone, seeing concert tickets for Diva Blu Beryl already sold out. Blu was infamous in that no one knew where she came from, as an actress and singer she was rather mysterious. Whenever she held a show, she never announced where it would be, whether it was a park, a forest, a grocery mart, even a classroom. Her ability turned every location she chose into the most fancy cabaret court you could imagine, and whoever was in her vicinity instantly became her fans.

How she had such a wonderful voice, a voice that could hit the highest notes and deepest richest vocals without straining her throat, no one knew. Posters hung up all over town, even in the school halls of her- a tall woman 9' 6" with a flowing blue rubber dress and gloves, ultra skinny waist, tall heels and powerful legs. White silken material decorated her shoulders and back with blueberry drizzle over her neck, her white cremey face accenting the deep blue eyeshadow, puffed large lips, two bunny ears and a deep neon-blue hairdue layered atop her head.

Who her true identity was, would be anyone's guess.

Frieda chuckled.

She didn't mind moonlighting and causing trouble, it really surprised her after she trapped Baba Yaga that the form would be available to her. Illusions, spells, amulets, incantations, even glamours and other powerful magic had been absorbed from the witch..

Everything she could want, except baking talent. Of which Baba Yaga had little to none.

After she'd disappeared, her company seemingly tanked in sales overnight, as if some spell had been lifted and everyone realized her food was meant for the garbage. A devil's trick, hardly an angel's delight. Still, she was practicing every single day and getting better and better. It'd only been a few months and Frieda felt a closer affinity to the Recipe Book each passing day, and she wouldn't have to hypnotize others to enjoy her treats. Others were particularly fond of pies with the Blueberry fruit, which grew nowhere in the valley of the Monster realm outside a wiggle of her fingertips.

One day, Judith snuck into the gym on paper invitation during after hours.

"This better be good, dweeb.." The gorgon said, seeing a single spotlight turned on, the entire gym starting to grow colorful fans, swirling pins, candycanes, the brick becoming venetian wallpaper. A climbing rope morphed into a rich velvet-red curtain which Diva Blu sensually sliding down, singing 'You've got me feeling blu' over the stage.

Judith started to feel heavy, so heavy she couldn't run. The starlet was singing just for her, the voice brainwashing her to love her.

"Oh, I can't tell a lie, I'm lovin' it.. I'm lovin' it.. you've got me feelin' blu, blu, blu, blu"

She slipped on the soft, silky carpet that'd formed.

The room was now a dark cyan shade, and she was floating in a big pink bubble. Suddenly she was flying towards the gorgon.

"I know you can hear me.. I know you can feel me.. so if you just listen, just listen to me, you've got me feeling, feeling, feeling.. blu.. blu.."

The gorgon's sense took a vacation, all thoughts turning to slavish devotion, heat and love for this singer. The darkness coated all but the two in the bubble, and her defenses melted in Diva Blu's arms.

She had to make a move.

Taking off her shirt, the dweeb turned Diva said "You are so lovely".

Judith took her shirt off.

"I want you, I want you to want me. You must give me all of you."

The two started to meet lips, and as suckling rang out, Frieda snapped her fingers. The lights turned off.

A week later Judith was still dreaming of the song, her mind thinking of her time in the pink bubble, not knowing she was a victim of a spell. Her entire room had been filled with Diva Blue merchandise, she'd spent every minute of freetime obsessing over her as a devoted fangirl and fanatic. Diva Blu Beryl's singing voice did have that magical effect on people, but in this case she'd been a little more direct about it. Judy was a lot nicer to her classmates from that point on, only concerned with spreading her love of Blu. She was looking into becoming a talent scout with her rich parent's money after she graduated.

As for Frieda, she was now on the cusp of becoming a high priestess of the Diva Blue cult, her divine voice catching the hearts of millions by night as her cooking won over those closest to her by day. She'd been taking life day by day, the thought of becoming an actress hadn't left her and she'd certainly gained a lot of clout towards it, although baking was seriously growing on her naturally by now. Frieda's name had been placed in the Recipe Witch books, and someday the entire world knew who she was.

She was now a celebrity and even though she claimed it wasn't because she was a witch. She was no longer an outcast, but she wouldn't tell anyone her alter-ego because she had so much power. She knew how to use it for good. Mostly.

"Fried cutecakes, c'mere and gimee a kiss! I wanna know where you're taking me for our 10th date after school! Have you listened to the new Blu album yet? I missed you!!" Judith cheered out, wearing a Blu Beryl fanshirt.

...good enough.

End