Spell… H-A-L-L-O-W-E-E-N returns in 2025! It’s another month of supernatural content waiting for you.

Today, I give you a piece of microfiction about an irresistible witch. Enjoy.

Under My Spell

People say I hate men, but that’s not true. I love them, especially when they’re at my feet. My latest conquest kneels before me, eyes glazed, muscles taut yet completely under my control.

I trail my crimson-lacquered fingertips along the sharp edge of his jawline, savoring the almost imperceptible tremor of submission beneath his three-day stubble. With nothing more than a honeyed whisper against his ear and the languid flick of my wrist, I can make this former soldier do anything: scrub my marble floors until they gleam like mirrors, battle my enemies with the ferocity of a starved wolf, or worship every inch of my body with the devotion of a zealot.

Some might call it cruelty, this enchantment that binds him to me, but I call it the highest form of art. Every man who falls for me becomes a perfect instrument in my collection, meticulously tuned to respond to my desires like a Stradivarius violin to a virtuoso’s touch.

His calloused hands, once used to build empires and conquer nations, now exist only to serve my slightest command, whether it’s to pour my blood-red wine or caress my ivory skin. I smile, my lips curving like a scythe, knowing the ancient power coursing through my veins is more intoxicating than any mere mortal could comprehend, and that’s the way it should be.

Another spell, another soul bent to my will, another delicious moment of absolute control. What’s not to love about this?

Now that you’ve reached the end, how long will it take you to join him? I’ll be waiting.