He sees them out front of the house, gathered on the lawn. After being alerted to their presence, he'd instructed Charlotte to take Cindy to the safe room.

"Daddy?" Cindy had said. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to talk with them."

And now he is standing on the front balcony, looking down at this crowd below. A mob is more like it. At least they didn't bring torches and pitchforks, he thinks. But the day is still young.

It's as he's about to speak that the three women emerge from the crowd and stand before him. Their clothes are in tatters, and the gnarled twisting antlers denote both age and avarice.

Witches, he thinks.

The woman in the centre of the group raise her hand and points a desiccated finger up at him. A single word drops with her lips like thick and poisonous syrup:

"Oppressor..."

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This has been the Seventeenth Chapter of Act Two for my ongoing #freewrite serial story.

ACT TWO CHAPTERS

Chapter One *** Chapter Two *** Chapter Three

Chapter Four*** Chapter Five*** Chapter Six

Chapter Seven*** Chapter Eight*** Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten*** Chapter Eleven*** Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen*** Chapter Fourteen*** Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Here is Chapter Eighteen.

And here is the ACT ONE Chapter List, with all of the links for Act One.

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Written in five minutes from the writing prompts, "Witches" and "Syrup" as part of the #freewrite exercise. Image is by me as well. You can view the prompts here and here. Be sure to let some of the other freewrites cast their spell over you. Thanks to @mariannewest for creating and running this challenge that goes really well when drizzled over some pancakes or maybe french toast or - crepes! Yeah I'm gonna get me one of those special pans and learn how to make crepes, and from then on every thing that I eat will be exclusively crepe based. All crepes, all day.

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Writing and images by Greg McCann, the author of this post and owner of this Steemit Channel. To view more of my work, please visit www.fireawaymarmot.com.