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

Today, we have a microfiction piece featuring a lamia, because why not?

Hunted

The underbrush rustled, and Callum stilled, straining his ears. His heart pounded in his chest, pulse quickening as he listened intently. His right hand hovered near the hilt of his sword.

A low growl, guttural and menacing, pierced the air. He caught a glimpse of something slithering amongst the trees.

And then she was there, looming before him, her serpentine lower half coiled and ready to strike. Her eyes were cold and unyielding, her fangs bared in a sneer.

He moved to attack her, but the creature was faster, lunging toward him with unnatural speed and agility.

Callum felt her teeth sink into his flesh, and a searing pain shot through him. He cried out, dropping the sword as he stumbled backwards. The lamia followed, relentless in her attack.

Vincent fought back with all his strength, but it was no use. The creature was too powerful, too strong. He could feel himself weakening, his life slipping away.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. The lamia released him, her eyes flicking to something behind him. Vincent turned, gasping as he saw a group of villagers, armed with torches and pitchforks, advancing towards the half-snake, half-woman monstrosity. There were too many. Surely, she wasn’t strong enough to take on them all.

He was wrong. The last thing he saw that horrible night was their agonized faces as their limbs were torn apart one by one.