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It was 3am when it started to rain.
3am, the devil’s time.
“How can I even trust what you say?” Zelda yelled, shaking and smoking, with a sad look in her eyes. “Every time we’re together it seems like you’re hiding something from me!”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Zelda.” Mary Wardwell stared through the window, enthralled by the rain.
“Just… just look at me,” Zelda pleaded, doing her best not to cry in front of her lover. She refused to show weakness, not while Mary remained so maddeningly calm and disinterested.
Zelda put out her cigarette and walked towards the other witch, placing her hand on Mary’s shoulder. “Look at me. Please,” she asked again, tears involuntarily forming in her eyes.
Mary ignored her request. Staring straight ahead, she shrugged out of Zelda’s touch and walked to the fireplace. “I think you should go,” Mary said sharply, gazing into the flames.
“What?” Zelda’s voice was soft, almost a whisper. She could feel the tears now running down her cheeks in earnest. Maybe it was for the best that Mary wouldn’t look at her. At least she wouldn’t see Zelda crying.
“Leave,” Mary said cooly. “Now.”
Zelda swallowed hard, summoned what little remained of her pride, and walked outside, not daring to look back. As she walked, her tears faded and became indistinguishable from the rain. It was like nature could feel her sorrow; like it was crying along with her. It felt like the night was suffering, too.
And in a way, it was. The demons sensed their mother’s sorrow, not daring to go out during this devil’s hour. Mary stood by the fire for a long time.
Zelda and Mary had been together a few months now, though neither would admit it. They were just “friends” or—as Mary often proclaimed to Zelda’s chagrin—“gal pals.” They were simply two witches who spent a lot of time together, presumably discussing Sabrina’s education.
It was comical, really, the pair of them tiptoeing around and lying. Sabrina and Ambrose saw right through the excuses, never believing that their aunt had important issues about witchcraft or Sabrina’s education or education of witchcraft to debate with Ms. Wardwell—certainly not in the middle of the night. Zelda had slept over at Mary’s many, many times, and everyone—even Hilda—knew it wasn’t to cast spells.
Their relationship had started right after Sabrina finally signed her name in the Book of the Beast. Ms. Wardwell had began spending more and more time at the Spellman residence, and it clearly wasn’t just because of Sabrina. Mary wanted to be close to Zelda. She enjoyed teasing the other witch, flirting at inappropriate moments and watching her squirm. And it wasn’t like Zelda had rejected these advances—on the contrary. When they were alone, Zelda could become soft and saucy, often at the same time.
Truthfully, Zelda enjoyed having Mary Wardwell around. Mary was always complimenting Zelda, making her blush like a teenage girl. Zelda couldn’t remember the last time someone she was into had really treated her right, but Mary? Oh, Mary was different. She was gracious, funny, and a bit arrogant, not to mention incredibly attractive.
Mary knew exactly how to push Zelda’s buttons - breathing hot on her neck, placing a hand on her thigh under the table when they were all having dinner. Zelda never discouraged the actions, not once. She liked the attention, liked how it felt to walk around her house without knowing what could happen next. She even enjoyed the constant arousal. Constant because every time Mary Wardwell gazed at her with those big, blue ocean eyes, Zelda felt a veritable ocean between her legs.
And then came the day, just like any other, when just the two of them were in the house. But that day, when Ms. Wardwell told Zelda she would wait for Sabrina, she actually followed Zelda to her room. That day, she pushed Zelda against the wall and whispered hot against her ear, “
I must confess... I’m not here for Sabrina. I’m here for you
.” That day, they finally kissed. It was bittersweet, not unlike Mary herself, and Zelda had never tasted anything like that kiss before. That day, she’d had to bite her own hand to muffle the moans elicited by Mary’s wicked tongue. It was marvelous! Zelda came not once, not twice, but three times that day. The first against the wall and another spread wide on the floor before they even made it to the bed. Not even in the best witch orgy had Zelda experienced so much pleasure. It was as though she’d been reborn. And ever since, being with Mary was like being reborn day after day.
Until tonight. Tonight, Zelda was not being reborn. Tonight, she was dying.
Zelda arrived home, soaked, her makeup smeared and her eyes swollen from crying. She took her heels off, threw them against the wall, and fell to the floor. Her chest hurt, an unfamiliar sensation. It was as if her heart had literally been ripped out of her chest, like she was bleeding from the inside out. And maybe she should bleed. Maybe it was all her fault. Maybe she deserved to feel this way, like shit. Maybe that’s what she is.
Why, for the love of Satan, had she thought it would be different this time? No one had ever truly love her, so of course Mary Wardwell wouldn’t be able to. No one could. She was incapable of being loved, always had been. But for some reason, this time Zelda had really believed it would be different. She had begun to believe that maybe Mary could feel something real for her, something like the way Zelda felt for the first time in centuries.
Things with Mary were good, simple--until they weren’t. The beginning had been perfect, like some cliche dream. They were always spending time together, talking, and fucking. Until, of course, they had nothing left to talk about and Zelda began to need something more than just sex. But every time she tried to get to know Mary better, the other witch just changed the subject or invented an elaborate stream of lies. Zelda knew Mary wasn’t being honest with her, because she’d spent her entire life being lied to. She knew whether or not someone was telling the truth, and Mary never was.
All Zelda wanted--no, needed--was to know who Mary really was. The not knowing was killing her slowly, and the other witch clearly couldn’t care less how Zelda felt about the matter. It made Zelda slowly lose her mind, until finally, she was sick of dancing around the subject. How could she be expected to trust someone who obviously didn’t trust her, Zelda had asked. How could she love someone who obviously didn’t love her in return? And that was how Zelda had ended up here, sobbing on the floor, lamenting that she had once again proved to be unworthy of love.
But the truth, as we know, is that Mary Wardwell is not who or what she says she is. The truth is not that it is impossible to love Zelda, but that Mary Wardwell is simply incapable of giving it. The truth is that Mary Wardwell is not Mary Wardwell at all. She is Lilith. A demon, but not of the garden variety: She is the Mother of Demons, Satan’s favored concubine. She is Queen of Night. She is incapable of human feelings. Witch or mortal, Lilith cannot love anyone at all.
But Zelda didn’t know any of this. And it was killing her. It was killing her, and she wasn’t sure there was a way to stop it.
Zelda stood, eyes ablaze. Her pulse skyrocketed, her body was trembling, and in that moment she knew exactly what she should do. Zelda should punish herself. Punish herself for her idiocy, for her optimism, for believing anyone could ever love her. Punish herself for ruining everything, once again. Punish herself to feel actually pain. Punish herself because she hates herself, and it is what she deserves, until her flesh burns and bleeds and there are no more tears left to cry.
Zelda hated feeling this way, abhors it. But when the leather of her whip rips at her skin, in that moment, she forgets all else. Her physical pain finally exceeds her internal pain and, in that moment, she feels a little better. Rage overtakes her and she lashes herself again and again until every single bit of anger and disappointment and sadness no longer exist. And then, Zelda can finally breathe, and it is good. It feels good. But it doesn’t last forever, and before long, the shame creeps in and she’s feeling like trash again: because she did it again. It’s like an addiction and she just can’t stop. The tears return to her eyes, and she cries herself to sleep. Until it is a new day, and she pretends that nothing has ever happened.
She knows it is like this. It is always like this. But it is what she deserves, so she walks to her room anyways, grabs her whip, careful not to wake Hilda, and heads for the embalming room.
A cry woke Sabrina in the middle of the night. She brushed it off as her mind playing tricks on her, but then she heard a loud clatter coming from downstairs. She checked the time. 3:50 A.M. The devil’s hour was almost over and Sabrina prayed to the Dark Lord that there wasn’t another sleep demon in the house.
Sabrina heard someone coming up the stairs. She climbed out of bed and opened her door slightly, peering through the crack. She saw a figure entering her aunties’ bedroom and thought about following it, but before she could move, Sabrina saw Auntie Zee rushing back down the hall, completely soaked and almost in a daze.
“What the hell happened?” Sabrina wondered.
Zelda headed straight for the embalming room, her soaked clothing leaving a trail on the carpet. Sabrina followed her quietly, escaping notice. Opening the embalming room door, Sabrina could hear Zelda’s cries. She was practically screaming, and Sabrina winced, hurting for her aunt. Zelda was the strongest, most badass witch Sabrina knew, and she had never seen her aunt seem so broken. She would never purposely allow anyone to see her in such a vulnerable position, so Sabrina stood frozen, unsure of what to do.
Zelda leaned on the mortuary table, gasping from crying so hard. She rubbed her eyes, took a deep breath, and removed her dress. It was at this moment that Sabrina spotted the whip.
“Oh, no,” Sabrina whispered, praying she was misinterpreting the situation. Her aunt would never… But then Sabrina sees them. The long, pink scars on her aunt’s back. Apparently she would, then. Sabrina swallowed hard. “Satan help Auntie Zee.”
Sabrina watches Zelda lash herself, still unable to move. Her auntie is hurting herself and Sabrina can’t stand it. She feels sick, but remains paralyzed, staring in abject horror. Zelda is already bleeding, and she begins to cry again, hitting herself even harder, and Sabrina remembers the way her aunt comforted her after things with Harvey fell apart. She remembers how Zelda was there for her, even when she’d told Sabrina she wouldn’t be. Even then, her aunt had been there for her, and now it was time for Sabrina to return the favor.
“Auntie Zee, stop!” Sabrina yelled. She ran across the room, ducking to avoid the next lash of the whip. Sabrina snatched the whip from her aunt’s hands and threw it across the room.
“Sabrina? W-What are you doing here?” Zelda managed in between sobs. “I don’t want you to see me like this. I’m a mess.”
“No, no, Auntie Zee!” Sabrina grabbed Zelda’s face and tried to wipe the tears from it, suddenly unable to keep from crying as well.
Sabrina knows she’s hurt her aunt in the past, especially when she told Zelda she wasn’t her mother. But she loves her very much, and the thought of her auntie not knowing that scares her. Zelda had always been a mother figure to her, and Sabrina had essentially been
a daughter to Zelda. But it has just hit Sabrina that she wasn’t a good niece -- at least not the best niece the best aunt deserves. Zelda has always done everything to her, to raise her along with Hilda, and it scares Sabrina that maybe she has never shown how much she appreciates everything Zelda has ever done to her.
Her auntie was suffering, and Sabrina couldn’t stand that. She was suffering too.
“What happened, auntie Zee?” Her aunt couldn’t reply, she was bursting into tears. “It’s okay, It’ll be okay.” the girl sat on the necropsy table and hold her aunt to her lap, holding her close.
Zelda was the one who often held Sabrina like that, never the otherwise. The oldest Spellman was ashamed of her niece to have to watch her like that: falling in pieces. But at the same time, it was good. It was good to have someone holding her close and telling her everything is going to be okay. It is good to be comforted while her whole body hurts. While her heart hurts.
“I love you, auntie Zee. And I’ll be here for you forever.” Sabrina whispered, in tears while carefully running her fingers through her aunt's hair -- which was starting to get a little drier.
It changed something inside of Zelda. Of course she knew her niece loved her, but it was good to hear those words coming out of Sabrina’s mouth. It was good to know that she is loved. Her family loves her, and it was all that mattered in years. It is all that matters now.
“I love you too, sweetheart.” Zelda said emotionally.
“Auntie Zee… why?” Sabrina asked and she could feel her aunt’s body getting rigid.
It was a silence until Zelda answered. She was thinking if she should tell her niece the truth or not. But the thing is: she can’t stand to keep this secret to herself anymore.
“She doesn’t love me, niece. She is hiding something from me and she told me to leave. It’s done now. We’re done now.” she said snuffling.
Sabrina knew exactly of who her aunt was talking about and she couldn’t help but thinking that she will be the one taking care of her heartbroken aunt the same way she did when it was her. And all she could think of was that a few months ago her aunt didn’t know how it was this feeling, but now she does know. And Sabrina knows it hurts so much, she just didn’t want her aunt to suffer like that.
“I’m alone, Sabrina. I’ve got no one.” she started crying again.
“No, no aunt Zee! You’re not alone.” Sabrina touched her aunt’s face -- who was still in her lap. “You have me. And aunt Hilda. And Ambrose. We are here for you and we love you.”
“Oh, niece. I do not deserve you. I’m a mess. I deserve
this
.” she pointed to her own back and then took her hands to her face.
“Don’t you say that ever again, auntie!” Sabrina was in shock. She was in shock because she never thought she would see her aunt like that, she was in shock because Zelda kept those secrets from them and she was in shock because her aunt thinks so little of herself. And she is one of the most important figures in Sabrina’s life. Zelda is the one who she looks up to, and she wanted her aunt to know how amazing she is. How important she is.
How loved she is.
“You don’t deserve that, auntie Zee. No one does. And we’ll be here for you. Always.”
Sabrina’s hands was caressing her aunt’s back, trying to minimize her pain and avoiding touching her aunt’s scars. Suddenly she noticed her aunt has stopped crying. Zelda got up, trying to pretend that she is okay now and that nothing has happened. They were in silence until Zelda finally spoke up:
“Thank you, Sabrina. For everything.”
The younger witch carried her aunt to her bedroom, kissed her forehead a goodnight kiss and then left.
Zelda didn’t cry herself to sleep that night, she slept feeling her heart a little warmer. Maybe she won’t have Mary anymore, maybe it will hurt for a few weeks... until it doesn’t. And at the meanwhile, at least she knows she is not alone. She has her family. And she loves them.
And she knows she is loved by them too.
This is all that matters.