#witch!bones

[cupofbrownsugar]

PLEASE write more of the witch!Bones demon!Jim AU - Its brilliant!!!

thank you!!! i honestly wasn’t planning on it, but i’ve gotten a good few requests for it, so, maybe in the honour of this being the month of halloween, i will??

[cupofbrownsugar]

Can you please write more apprentice witch! Bones? Please? Pretty please?

my answer is…maybe!! ahaha, it was a bit of an older idea, and i didn’t really actually plan stuff for it, just that main idea, so…maybe??

[cupofbrownsugar]

I'm currently writing a longer mirror!verse mckirk story, so here's something short and sweet while I work on that (I always fall back on supernatural type au's!)

"Oh god oh god oh no oh no!"

Leonard McCoy, young witch in training, was freaking out.

He hadn't meant to make a love potion, the pages had gotten mixed up in that damn jinxed book! It was just supposed to help him overcome shyness, just make him a bit more bold, really harmless.

And it definitely wasn't supposed to been drunk by the star quarterback and head of the student council.

That damn sprite the coven had sent to watch him was a tiny bastard. The twinkly lil jerk had stolen it right from his pocket to wreak havoc in the rest of the cafeteria. How could the little thing have known about his secret crushes damnit, even his best friend Ny didn't know!!

Of course, the other witch was on exchange overseas, so it was easier to hide his blush from her then.

How could he help it though? The blonde, blue eyed, gorgeous Jim Kirk, who was athletic and bright and charming and had the most dazzling smile the witch had ever seen. The tall, dark, and so handsome Spock, who was smart and calm and determined and just so fascinating.

Of course, Leonard had only ever spoken to them once or twice. In class. For assignments. He was generally too busy hiding his blush and freckles (he prayed he grew out of both) beneath his too long bangs and too large glasses to say anything without a stutter. It sucked being so weird.

Being a witch did not help.

Especially when it lead to where he was now.

Trapped. In his usual study room in the library. With two artificially lovesick hotties.

He had held onto his books like a shield, backed against the far window, trying to stutter out an explanation. But then of course Kirk had just smiled, Spock had gently taken his books from him, and now each of them was holding one of his hands.

"Come on, McCoy, date me, it'll be fun." Blue eyes shone as he winked.

"I think it would be mutually gratifying if you were to go out with me, Leonard." Dark brown eyes were the usual calm but also fondly warm.

"I-I-I-" Oh god, Jim was kissing his hand now and Spock was stroking his fingers against his own, "It's a lie!!"

Both halted and blinked at him, his face flushed pink and his glasses crooked, "I, well, okay, you're not going to believe this but-"

"Wow, so cute..." Jim murmured, fascinated by the blush.

"You are very appealing," Spock said softly, straightening his glasses.

"I'm a witch!" Leonard finally blurted, accent dripping off his words in his anxiety, "An' I was aimin' ta make a potion for myself but it went all awry and then y'all got it and-"

"You're a what?" The blonde tilted his head.

"A witch?" Spock's eyebrows rose.

Said witch continued, "And it was a love potion! This is fake!" He frowned, "That's the only reason y'all are acting like this, I'm not worth all this fuss." He took a breath and continued, "I'm sorry, it really was an accident, I didn't mean for this to happen, I just wanted to be less shy..."

Of all of the reactions he was expecting (anger, disbelief, pitchforks and torches), he hadn't expected sheepishness.

Jim blushed (blushed!) almost impressively as Leonard had, scratching behind his neck, "Actually, love potions don't work on me..." He smiled shyly with a mouth full of canine teeth, "I'm a werewolf."

Spock had tinged green (well that was a first), eyes glancing elsewhere as he became a bit stiff and less graceful, "Ah, they are not effective on me either." He brushed his hair back to reveal pointed ears, "I am half elf."

"But boldness potions do work on them!" came a squeaky glee-filled voice from the corner of the room. The sprite was cackling as it held the empty potion bottle, "You finally made one right for once, witch!"

McCoy glared at the sprite, who poofed away in a cloud of sparkly smoke, leaving the rest of them awkward and blushing.

"So," Leonard started first, "I'm still sorry about the potion, that damn sprite has been makin' my life utter hell."

"Aw man, tell me about it," Jim groaned, "The rest of the pack won't stop calling since I left town. Wolves should not know how to text."

"I understand with your frustrations," Spock intoned with sympathy, "The elders are very persistent in their observations of me, I am expecting another stern letter very soon."

Leonard surprised himself and laughed, feeling a little less weird than usual, the others chuckled with him.

"I think it was a happy accident though," the quarterback stated, "I've been crushing on you for months, I needed that voodoo nudge to get me to ask you out."

The council president agreed, "It has become a rather fortunate circumstance, as I also have found you most fascinating for some time now."

Hazel eyes grew wide as the witch's brain began to break.

Jim looked to Spock, grinning, saying, "I wouldn't be against wooing the both of you, if need be." He gave a friendly growl, "I could use a new pack..."

Spock gave an almost smile in response, "I do believe it would be the best situation for all of us yes, and I am also willing to romance you both." It grew to an actual smile, "I could do with some companionship."

Yep, brain broken. He managed out, "And-and what should I do, then?"

Spock continued to smile, and Jim grinned, saying "Prepare to be swept off your feet, since Spock and I have catching up to do." He winked, "You've already got a spell on us."

Oh god that got so silly and OOC but it was totally unplanned so ahhhhh yeah here it is ahahah

[cupofbrownsugar]

Annnnd some more and more steamy....aha. ha. yeah. haha. Again kept some text from where it lasted ended.

Previous

The blonde tapped his own chin thoughtfully, his face more serious as he murmured "But what are you then?" Seriousness was replaced by mischief, he chuckled (like angel's bells) and stuck his tongue out at him.

The witch had expected the incubus' tongue to be long and thin, forked, like a snake's; it would suit the slitted eyes, despite their bright blue nature and lack of yellow colour. He's sure that's what he'd seen in the old drawings of such demons in his studies.

But it was thick, and short - longer than a human's, but still - and forked at the end when he moved it that way but otherwise looked solid. And it seared like a brand against the skin of his neck, a pleasant burn that didn't match the frigid cold he'd heard that these creatures were known for.

His mind was already swimming from the sweetened breath, but his whole body jolted at the hot wet slick that ran from his collar bone to the tip of his chin, tracing around the binding mark. A strangled mute gasp was wracked from his throat as that devil hot mouth began to suck back down the path, sharp teeth catching lightly on the stubbled skin.

"Ah..." the blonde panted slighty, "I can taste it..." He nuzzled underneath the witch's chin, reveling in the mix of soft flesh and sharp stubble there. "Your magic...I can taste it, traces of it left over on your skin". He nosed along the exposed collar bone, nipped at the shallow dips, mouthed softly at the shoulder, "Can taste it, smell it, feel it, right to your bones."

McCoy thanked the binding spell on his voice for that moment as it suppressed a whimper at the feel of the demon's caress on his skin, but it didn't help the shivers that wracked through him in time with the electricity jumping from joint to joint.

The blonde, seemingly reluctant, leaned away from the man beneath him, "Is that where you keep it, mage? In your bones?" The incubus chuckled slightly, licking his lips, slitted eyes somewhat dilated and brighter than ever. "What an odd place to keep it, you must be an odd one, bones bones bones bones, you surely are an odd mage."

The witch wrinkled his nose, much less amused by the laughing (enchanting) man above him, who, in his demonic glee, had climbed on top of the brunette, legs between his own. Abashed at himself, the witch tried to snap them shut, but they only fell open further on their own accord and at the blonde man's crooked smile.

And the grin only continued at the blonde leaned down, almost lying on top of the brunette, the sweetest heat pouring from him and into the witch at every press, making him silently keen. It took all of the witch's power, all his focus, to stiffen instead of writhe for more friction, more heat.

The blonde tapped his nose playfully, then traced his lips thoughtfully, "You must not be a wizard then, no chance a wizard would store their power somewhere so vital." The blue eyed man continue to trace along the witch's face, humming happily to himself as his tail pulled up a pant leg and wrapped hotly around an ankle, tugging it even further apart. "Not a rune user, no marks, not a mancer, no..."

The blonde pressed forward bodily, a rush of searing, toe curling heat flooding over McCoy as he did so, the rush overwhelming the crackle in his skin, drowning the fear in his mind with warmth and succulence. The witch's mind swam back into focus at the pinpoint heat on his lips as the blonde's spoke against his, "No, Bones, Bones, Bones, I think I know what you are. Your magic is in your blood, right to your very core, tinted on your breath and dancing in your heartbeat." Those too bright blue eyes blinked, and hazel blinked with them, hypnotized, drowning.

Another hiss, a song, spoken against his lips, "You're a witch, aren't you?" A chuckle, a flash in blue eyes, "Yes, that's what you are, isn't it?" A flicker of something, a flick of tongue against lips, almost desperate, absolutely hungry, "I've found you out, my Bones..." And the bright flash of danger flickered out as that wicked tongue entered the witch's mouth and he was conquered with a kiss.

It was heat, desire, completely overwhelming and it spread like a fever from his mouth and down his throat and into his blood. The witch's struggle turned oh too quickly into submitting and sucking at the demon's mouth greedily like it was sweet air, and the blonde took even more hungrily, feeling like he was drawing from the witch's very soul.

The brunette could barely feel the burn in his lungs as he forgot the importance in breathing, so overcome from the touch, taste and heat of the man, that he gave a voiceless whine as the blonde pulled away, blue eyes thrumming with the unearthly glow, sharp teeth nipping at the other's lips almost insatiably before fully pulling away.

The demon's thick tongue licked at his own lips as he panted and looked down at blown hazel eyes, the incubus' own voice just slightly breathless. "Do you really know so little of my kind, witch? Every part of me was built for this, to seduce, to devour." Mindless, the brunette tried to surge up as the blonde leaned down, just out of reach, "I am a living, breathing aphrodisiac, it is in my blood, my breath, my scent..." He removed the last bit of distance between them, taking a broad swipe of tongue against kiss swollen lips, "...even my saliva." A spark of lucidity and bright blue magic flashed deep within hazel, but quickly dimmed as his mouth was reclaimed in a starving kiss.

AND THAT'S ALL IVE WRITTEN SO FAR. i have a lot more planned for this, plot and what not (its kind of a big grand story that ive sorta worked out and has a happy ending and what not) but i prolly wont write more than finishing this scene (which reveals a good bit of the rest of the plot). there's other details too to add and will see if i get there ahahah

[cupofbrownsugar]

Alright, things start to get a bit steamier...and I begin starting each part with where the last fic left off.

Previous

The blonde gave a shrug, all worry from before a distant memory and grace like a cat in his movements, "Ah well then, I could use a change." And leaned up and over the man, heat pouring from him and sweeping along the bolts along the witch's vertebrae, "You'll be fun, won't you?"

He blinked, and this time it stayed. The gorgeous blue eyes, slitted like a serpent, full of danger and sin and delight stared at McCoy, and hazel stared back, trying not to drown in them.

McCoy blinked rapidly, trying to both break the hypnotic gaze and look deeper at what was past that blue. What power was that, what kind of being was this?

The blue blinked back lazily, "Oh, are you wondering what I am? Have you not met with my kind before?" That gaze broke and looked slowly down his form, hand lazily tracing around the mark on his chest, humming "No, I don't supposed you have, not a chance we would have ever let you get away."

The hand and his gaze went back up to his face, thumb tracing the plush of his bottom lip, "Mmm you're quite beautiful, they did well in their offering." The witch felt his fight yield at the words, pressing into the warmth of this touch, but with a spark in his spine he managed a glare and pulled harshly away from the heat of the other man. The slitted eyes lit up with mirth, "Ooo, and feisty! They did very well."

Hazel eyes narrowed and he pulled again at his restraints, with little force but McCoy was sure it was the effort that counted, hopefully. The blonde next to him seemed to very much be enjoying himself, plucking at the buttons of his tunic one by one and exposing more skin to the air that shouldn't feel this warm.

"You must have heard of what I am at least, know something of my kin." He grinned as he undid the last button, popping it right off the cloth. "Perhaps if I showed you a bit more, you'd know?"

Leonard looked back at him then, lost a breath once more at those startling cerulean slitted eyes as the man leaned back. The blue narrowed slightly as the man's grin grew, and the witch's gaze slid down that gorgeous face to that gorgeous grin, with too white and too sharp teeth. Not that of a vampire but also certainly not just human.

And his hair, his blonde, so soft looking hair, with two small black horns just peeking out from beneath his bangs. And black tipped ears that were almost elven in their point. And black tipped fingers with claws that looked just as sharp as those too white teeth, the torn button still caught on one like a tiny trophy.

The button was whisked away with a quick movement in the air, McCoy avoiding those too blue eyes to follow the movement, until it revealed a black pointed tail, like those he'd seen in illustrations of devils, twirling the button on its point.

Impossibly, that grin grew wider still, "Do you see what I am now?" The blonde crept up his body, closer, watching the hazel eyes intently, that were now the clearest they had been. The lure was still strong to the witch, but the fear and danger danger shrieking up his spine was even stronger, as he saw this man for what he really was. Blue read hazel, "Ah, I see you can." And drew himself ever closer. A breath, sweeter than any flower and warmer than sunlight blew against his ear, murmuring "Demon." A flick of wet heat against the lobe, the witch's breath catching, and then fire hot softness of lips tracing along the stubble of the witch's cheek to his own mouth, feeling the words more than hearing them, "Incubus."

Despite the fire heat pouring from that mouth, that voice, McCoy froze instantly at the words. An incubus. It can't be. You've got to be kidding me. He was so fucked in so many fucking ways to be tied down, bound, and served on a silver fucking platter for a goddamned incubus.

The demon was right; the witch had never met one before, only read about them in his studies. Illustrations of beauty and wickedness, the most deadly of sins wrapped in the most entrancing temptations. He'd read about their forms, about their capabilities, about all their damn danger danger danger.

The man, the demon above him, pressed his lips more firmly against the also open ones of the brunette, not yet a kiss, and inhaled deeply, stealing the breath the witch had attempted to take, and replacing it with a pollen sweetened breath of his own. McCoy wanted to cough but his lungs took it greedily, suddenly feeling dizzy as the man leaned back. The blonde tapped his own chin thoughtfully, his face more serious as he murmured "But what are you then?" Seriousness was replaced by mischief, he chuckled (like angel's bells) and stuck his tongue out at him.

The witch had expected the incubus' tongue to be long and thin, forked, like a snake's; it would suit the slitted eyes, despite their bright blue nature and lack of yellow colour. He's sure that's what he'd seen in the old drawings of such demons in his studies.

But it was thick, and short - longer than a human's, but still - and forked at the end when he moved it that way but otherwise looked solid. And it seared like a brand against the skin of his neck, a pleasant burn that didn't match the frigid cold he'd heard that these creatures were known for.

Next

[cupofbrownsugar]

Okaaaaay and some more! This one's a bit shorter...

Previous

McCoy's breathing quickened, that sweet smell trying to drag him back down into a lull again, but he managed to pull away again as the man tried once more to touch his face.

The man frowned, a hint of bemusement in his face that quickly changed to worry, "You're burning up. I fear the people here have put a fever on you. They're know only crude spells, but they are ruthless with them when they're desperate."

McCoy's head was ringing with the sound of that voice, golden smooth and drawing him closer to the stranger, to that voice, to those eyes...

He saw it again, quickly, behind the worry, the danger flashing behind that electric blue, and he stiffened as that hand slowly reached out for him again.

"I can help you..." so close, the witch could feel the heat radiating off that hand, a flare of fire as it touched his cheek, McCoy's head swimming at the contact, eyes fluttering close in thoughts of warmth, warmth, heat and fire and threat.

Hazel eyes blinked back open, staring at the warm glow of the man, trying to focus on what was behind those eyes and not the spell of them, trying not to fall to his voice or the heat of his hand as he murmured, softly, kindly, "I can break the fever for you, there is only one way..."

McCoy pressed into the sheer heat of the man's hand, yes, please, do it, so warm, you'll help, you're safe, I'm safe...

He jerked back again, causing the man to startle as well. It took all of his mental strength and the painful sparks of danger DANGER crackling from his spine and through his bones to pull as much (and as little, considering the bindings) away from the man, feet scrabbling as he tried to pull himself farther away from the luring body to no avail.

The man blinked, confused and frowning, "It's alright, you're safe, you don't need to-" and just as the witch was beginning to fall into the lull of those words, have them sink into his mind until they became real, the golden man stopped.

Hot heat pressed to his throat, tilting his head back with only slight force, that golden voice with a bit of ring gone to it but only a little "Why...a binding mark? Why would they bind your voice?" The heat trailed down to his chest as the hand gently pulled back part of his open tunic, "And this...what are they sealing? You're just a human, so-"

A bolt, like a shriek, shot through the witch as he felt a shift in the air and in the man's demeanor. He chuckled, low and deep and dark in a delicious and sinful way, "Ohhhh," that face, still full of beauty but now just hinting at the danger danger was grinning now, like a cat, cheshire, a hint of an edge to them that McCoy couldn't truly make out, as he murmured, "What have they caught for me this time?"

Spikes of heat and shots of electricity shot up his ribs as the stranger walked his hands up the witch's chest, over the binding marks, and back to the bound man's face, "Just what have I got here?"

That grin, those eyes, that voice, McCoy could still barely focus but a shot through his cervical vertebrae made it flash as clear as day, the danger in front of him.

"Ahhh, you can see it?" Golden like honey, with a hint of mirth to it, another low laugh, "You'd be surprised how often that works." Cocky, a sharp show of teeth, no, a beautiful smile, a sinful grin, "Every time actually."

The blonde gave a shrug, all worry from before a distant memory and grace like a cat in his movements, "Ah well then, I could use a change." And leaned up and over the man, heat pouring from him and sweeping along the bolts along the witch's vertebrae, "You'll be fun, won't you?"

He blinked, and this time it stayed. The gorgeous blue eyes, slitted like a serpent, full of danger and sin and delight stared at McCoy, and hazel stared back, trying not to drown in them.

Next

[cupofbrownsugar]

Continuing on! Now there's actually grammar and proper sentences!

Previous

McCoy thought of the most colourful swear words in all the languages he knew has he pulled and fought at his restraints to no avail. He looked to the leather and rope around his wrists and ankles; they were worn in and old, though strong. He definitely wasn't the first to have used them.

He panted out a huff, frustration still overriding the tinge of fear he'd felt at the base of his spine. Whatever ungodly creature he was being sacrificed to, bloody served on a cushy silver platter, he didn't want to be around when it actually showed up.

If only he still had his voice, or if even he could wriggle around enough to make a scratch on the binding mark, that'd be enough to slip a bit of magic out to actually help get him out of here.

The pounding of his head did not help, nor the electric feel of "danger! danger" shooting up and down his spine as the unsettling vibes of this place got stronger and stronger. He looked up to the moon through through the sliver of broken stained glass, where was kind spirit when you needed one?

A creak of a door had hit head jolt to the side, looking at the entrance. The quick movement caused a jab of pain to go through his head, but...it was dimming. Fading a bit as the door pushed open and footsteps heading towards him through the darkness.

"Hello?" a voice, like sweetest honey, called through the air, and McCoy shivered at the sound, suddenly ignorant to the cold, a spread of warmth going through his body, his muscles relaxing soothingly.

"Is someone there?" There was a wonderful smell now, intoxicating, musty and sweet and pulled McCoy closer to the footsteps, lungs filling greedily to try and contain it.

Another shot of lightning down his spine. Danger, danger! The witch gave his head a small shake, a twinge of pain renewing, as it should be. Something wasn't right, this isn't right.

He forced his head into another shake, a mute groan of pain as he did so, but it helped ground him; he'd been attacked, he was tied to the floor, he was still in danger danger...

"Oh goddess, are you alright?!" The golden voice rang out again, another shiver down the witch's body, another spark down his spine, both the sweetest warmth and electric danger in this voice.

A person ran into McCoy's view, lit by the candle and moonlight, and the witch's hazel eyes shot open. It was the most beautiful young man he'd ever seen, golden hair and the brightest star blue eyes, and and, tan skin, and strong hands, and and, what, what had he been thinking about?

He blinked again, looking up to the stranger, try to contain yourself, man! What's going on? It had to be the candlelight, and moonlight, this was some sort of unnatural beauty that just couldn't...it couldn't...could it?

The man leaned down, eyes full of concern and fire bright despite their cold hue, "Are you alright? This town...it's not safe. I can help you." That voice too, there was something, the most beautiful sound...no, there was something else, like a ring to it, was he...was he being entranced...

The man touched his face, his hand was fire hot and that heat spread like a fever though his body. Something was off....was this, was this the kind spirit he'd been praying for? Perhaps from the moon goddess? He was much to unworldly...

Another jolt down his spine, several, the magic in him thrumming and screaming danger danger DANGER DANGER. He closed his eyes tight, pulling away from the soft heat of the man's hand, and looked again.

Those eyes. The most gorgeous blue. The most unnatural blue. Seeming to almost glow in this flickering light...

McCoy blinked. He saw it. Just barely. If his magic wasn't trying to crawl of his very pores to warn him, he'd have missed it, but there it was.

He was the danger.

Next

[cupofbrownsugar]

ALRIGHT SO

i've mentioned before that i have a buddy i write a lot of stuff for, and i figured id post some more stuff here. i'll put it up in parts (cuz i write it in parts to her). for this one in particular, it starts off really poorly written and not-real sentences but gets more literate in the following parts. so here we gooo

mccoy is a weary traveller, i'm not sure why/where he's travelling, but he is, and enters a small town. he's a bit too exhausted to really notice that the town is a tad on the dark and creepy side and that he's being eyed by all the dark and creepy residents. but he starts to get a weird vibe from the town and decides that he's just gonna get supplies instead of staying at an inn and maybe have to pull a makeshift camping trip (he -hates- doing that)

he's at a merchant stand, looking through the items, kinda out of it, when he looks up and sees the old merchant staring at him with shifty eyes. mccoy turns around to see the whole town around him. (well not the whole town but a whole lot of most of it). some are carrying torches, and pitchforks, and mccoy knows that never bodes well

they're all staring at him with creepy eyes and murmuring to each other, things like "do you think he's an acceptable candidate?" "yes he will do" "it hasn't proven to be too picky so far" and the like

mccoy looks at them with confusion, a spark jumping up his spine as the vibes he feels from the villagers makes the tips of his fingers tingle and the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. his face hasn't been shaven in a few days and his voice is rough from lack of use, low as he murmurs "i ain't meaning any foul intent here folks, so if i can just be on my way..."

a rather unsettling looking man with a pitchfork steps forward as mccoy makes to move away, saying "you're not going anywhere, stranger" and the rest start to move in until mccoy hands flare up with a bright sparking blue flame, a blue ring around mccoy's irises beginning to glow. all the villagers jump back, eyes wide and skittishly looking between each other, more murmurs, as mccoy says voice rougher "I said, I'll be on my way"

just then, the flame on his hands sparks more and the fizzles out, leaving a pale and fading glow, the glow in his eyes fading as well. mccoy curses out loud in a language unrecognizable to the villagers. he knew that emptying his power before entering a village was a risk, but that carriage would have never gotten away otherwise and even though they didn't even stop to make sure he was alright he wasn't about to let that forest beast destroy them even if it left him burnt out, hollow, and a crackling ache in his bones from overuse, stinging still as a dull ache and more brightly in his hands now.

the villagers looked at each other and the murmuring returned, excitedly "a witch! he's a witch! that would be an even better offering, wouldn't it?" "it would be most pleased! he may last even longer than a normal person!" "and he's drained, i've heard of this. we can bind him now..."

"now listen here, folks," mccoy began, backing away as the villagers closed in and with last weak spark from mccoy hands his vision went dark as a rather blunt and hard object (he'd later guess it to be a plank) knocked him out cold.

when he awoke, slowly, groggily, he noticed a few very specific things. his head was killing from a very tender spot on the back of his head, his skin had goosebumps as his large overcloak had been removed to leave him down to his tunic (top buttons open) and breeches. his hands and feet were bound not too tightly but not too loosely to the ground that he was laying on; stone, but he was on top of a surprising amount of soft and comfortable cushions and blankets so he could barely feel it beneath him. the burning ache in his bones was gone, his magic returning and -thrumming-, electric, but felt...clogged in a way that felt unnatural and uncomfortable.

he tenderly lifted his head and looked down to his chest, seeing a crude symbol drawn in blood (not his own, not human, animal), drawn on his chest. he frowned, it was amateurishly done, but still effective. he tried to spark his fingers but he wasn't even able to make them hum; a binding mark. just great.

'shit', he tried to say, but no word came from his mouth. he continued to swear in his head and he moved his head and felt the same drying blood that was on his chest on his neck, binding his voice. he made a silent sigh "guess attempting a vocal spell is impossible"

he blinked, ignoring the throb in his head, and took in his surroundings. the room was mostly dark, except where he was tied down. there was a circle of candles lit around him, and a large window that shone with moonlight at the head of the area. 'the head of where?' he thought, looking around himself. 'is this...some kind of church? chapel? that can't be it, it's mostly deserted. it's more like a temple.." mccoy froze, looking around and taking in his situation more clearly, remembering the crazed murmurings of the villagers, and feeling the tingling edge of danger nearby running up his spine.

he was an offering, a sacrifice, a gift, and to what he had no idea.

'fuck my fucking life.'

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