De-Witcher Part 1 [re-boot]

[here’s another series I’m going to give a do-over to. Expect a brand new part 2–and so on—to branch off this first part, coming soon!]

I spent all Saturday crushing Elf bone in a mortar and mixing it with quicksilver.

That’s not a euphemism. They were actually the bones of elves, although they were dead a long time before I got my hands on them.

The solution I made was very delicate. I had to work slowly and meticulously to make sure the proportions were perfect. When finished, it was a glittery ivory-colored goop. Even with my eyes closed, I could see the mystical energy radiating from it.

Quicksilver was effective at disrupting object enchantments. Elf bone provided the magic. Behind me on my table sat a ruby the size of a plum. I grabbed the ruby with my gloved hand and held it above the solution. I could feel the spell within the ruby resisting. The ruby shook and smoked as it approached the shiny white mass.

Spells weren’t alive, per se, but they naturally resisted their own disruption. This one was no different. When triggered, this ruby would cause an average sized man to explode with hundreds of pounds of fat. A normal man would find himself immobilized by obesity in a moment. Across town an 800 pound man filled up most of a room with blubbery fat that wasn’t there a few days before.

I hadn’t seen the man myself, but last I heard his lover was feeding him loaves of bread two at a time and ladling gravy down his throat just to appease the voracious hunger that had him perpetually moaning and whimpering as he blimped out more with every moment.

From what I heard, this testament to gluttony had been an underwear model just a week ago. I hadn’t encountered this specific kind of enchantment before, but it fit the typical scenario I was usually called in to deal with. Maybe Mr. Sexy Abs cheated on his boyfriend with someone who wanted him to be his full-time man, and decided to hogify him when he realized it wasn’t going to happen. Or maybe it was just a bitter little troll of a man, resentful of the guy’s body and his beauty, turning to the dark arts to carry out what he probably thought of, in his twisted little brain, as a “just punishment,” a balancing of the scales.

After all I’ve seen, I was rarely surprised anymore. I’m a De-Witcher. I undo nasty spells, especially those that befall men. Ask me to tell you how I got started in this business sometime. That little diddy will blow your mind.

The ruby is old, maybe a thousand years. An enchantment that’s still kicking after all this time had to have a significant amount of power behind it, but despite the intensity, it was still a pretty basic arcane art.

I started chanting as the ruby sank into the glowing muck. It sizzled. I swear, it actually sounded like it screamed. With own magical talents I dissected the spell as it dissipated. Not only would the ruby never again make a hunky guy into a pile of flesh, but every one of its victims would be restored.

Across town, a very cut man with deeply carved abs and a jawline you could set your watch by was, no doubt, patting down his restored body. He was probably sobbing as his lover pulled him into his arms, both of them relieved his time as that monstrosity was over.

I knew I’d never know where the ruby came from (I’m not big into history), nor would I ever learn who used it last. That wasn’t my job. I undid the nasty spells people did to men. It wasn’t up to me to bring them to justice.

Sunday morning, Trey stopped by with a package. Trey and I worked together. When he heard reports of a man’s disappearance or a sudden disfiguration, for example, Trey did the footwork to see if it’s something normal science can’t explain. It was up to him to solve the mystery. He brought me in when there was witchcraft that needed to be unwoven.

“How are you doing with that cursed cockring I brought you last month?” Trey asked. Hello Trey, I thought sarcastically, I’m doing fine, thanks for asking.

(Truth be told, Trey and I had a little fling awhile go. He was a blue-eyed Italian with hairy pecs and a big, hard ass--and he sucked dick like he was pumping for clues in tthe balls. Admittedly, I let my feelings get a little out of control, but Trey insisted things stay “just business”--and I was okay with it. I guess.)

I took a look at the obsidian ring on the shelf behind me. “No luck,” I said. “The anti-magic defenses worked into that thing are impressive. Whoever cursed it wanted it to stay cursed. I practically blew up my whole workshop trying to reverse it. I have some ideas I’m going to try soon though.”

“Well, not to rush you,” Trey said with a shrug, “but the guy it worked its mojo on has a full-on pig snout, tusks and big floppy pig ears. Word is he’s got a corkscrew tail and a REAL weird dick now. He’s a big tough-guy bouncer downtown. I guess he’s still trying to work his job every night, but he’s getting piggier every day. The added bulk makes him more intimidating but… the oinking is getting uncontrollable, and he’s just eating slop out of a trough five times a day now. Who knows how long until he’s on a farm, getting prepped to be bacon.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I said. Trey didn’t entirely grasp the intricacies of what I did. Because I was so good at my job for all these years, I think he thought things were far easier to de-spell than they actually were. Thank God he was cute as hell. “What’s in the package?”

Trey grinned. “God, I hate to laugh at this but… check it out.” He unwrapped a small box, then lifted the top from it. Inside was a blue dildo in the shape of a man.

“Is that what I think it is?” I asked as I looked in to examine it. The dildo was shaped like an incredibly muscular man with a pronounced bulge.

“Yep, it’s a guy,” Trey said. “Or it used to be. No idea if he’s still alive, or if he’s still thinking in there, but a week ago he was the NPC Heavyweight champ. Took the overall last weekend. The next day he was missing and a dildo that looked just like him was in a box under his bed.”

As soon as I touched it, I could feel the spell. It was vile; I felt like I was running my fingers through maggots writhing in glue.

“Wow. I’ll see what I can do,” I said. Just being near the thing made me feel nauseated.

“Turns out he’s a personal trainer so I’m going through his clients. He dated one, a woman, and they recently broke up, so she’s a suspect. He’s also pretty mouthy with his clients, more stick than carrot if you know what I mean, so I’m looking into any of them who feel verbally abused. Can’t wait to get to the bottom of this.”

I shrugged. “Whodunits are your thing,” I said. “I can undo this spell for a grand.”

“Can you get it done this week?” Trey asked. “I have the feeling that now that the dildo’s been discovered, whoever did it is going to start covering their tracks.”

He was so sexy, biting his lip and raising his eyebrow, that I wanted to cut him a deal. But I had a business to run.

“Two grand and I’ll have it done tomorrow,” I said. It was a putrid curse, and strong as any I’d encountered, but I had a feeling I could reverse it by the end of the day. Cursed people were far easier than cursed objects. Something about having a soul made it slippery so the spell can’t latch on as hard. “Now that I’ve destroyed that ruby and your Michelin Man is back to normal size, I can put some effort into this.”

Trey shook his head. “Damn, bro! You drive a hard bargain but I’m in. Thank God you’re a professional!”

Trey turned for the door without even so much as a fist bump. Did he know how bad I wanted just a little contact? I couldn’t remember the last time we even hugged.

“Oh, and by the way,” he said before he stepped out, “there’s a college football team about three hours away that’s growing udders where their dicks used to be. Plus the QB just sprouted horns and the coach caught him eating grass between plays. I’m guessing it’s a matter of time before the rest of the team changes with him, and then some. Might need you to come with me to the field itself. I think that’s where the nasty magic is.”

“One thing at a time,” I said. I needed a vacation soon.

To deal with the dildo, I just had to open a simple anti-matter vortex. I got out my obsidian focal stone, some crushed agate and a dragon scale. Opening the vortex should have been easier than it was. As I chanted and channeled my energy, I felt a warm tickle beneath my nose. I licked up to find a river of salty blood pouring out.

Getting a noseblood from a basic dimensional warp made me feel like an amateur but I decided to feel shame later. A swirling cloud of purple light appeared above the dildo.

Every spell fights its own destruction. As the mini-hole to the abyss started to draw the power out of the dildo, it started to vibrate and shake. Now, not only did I have to keep a hole in reality from growing so large it swallowed all of creation, but I also had to keep a pocket-sized former-musclehead-turned-sex-toy from crumbling to dust as the magic inside it reacted violently to my efforts.

The whole process was painfully slow, every erg of energy drained from the dildo into the dark spiral. The dildo turned from blue rubber to dark brown. The bodybuilder’s blonde hair appeared, as did his red posing trunks. He was still very tan; it seemed whoever put the whammy on him did so just as he stepped off the stage.

As the spell faded, I saw its entire anatomy. This little bodybuilder could still see, hear and feel this whole time. I would imagine he was horrified when he realized he was smaller than the trophy he had just won, but just as immobile. His whole body had shifted into a sexual organ. While he couldn’t move a single one of his splendidly huge muscles, every gentle touch hit him with erotic sensations of a magnitude he’d never known before.

As I undid the horror that had been done to him, a part of me felt a little jealous. What a week this little guy had had!

When he had grown to about two feet tall, I lifted him up to place him on the floor. He was the weight of a small dog but so damned dense! Just the feel of those little muscles in my hands drove me wild--but I had to maintain concentration, lest he snap back to his dildo-form.

When I was sure the spell had been eradicated, I wish the vortex shut. It vanished with a thunderclap. I knelt before the bulky man, nearly nude (except those overstuffed posers!) on my floor. His eyes were open but he had a dopey look on his face, plus a thousand-yard stare.

“It’s okay buddy,” I said gently as I snapped in his face. “You can move now. You can talk.”

He drooled and uttered some guttural nonsense. Damn, I thought. Just one week as a dildo and he had started to forget he was a human. I could whip up an herbal elixir to help restore his brain (free of charge, mostly because I wanted this beastly Hercules to be grateful for my help) but first, I wanted to call Trey to let him now I’d had success.

I still tasted blood dripping from my nose. Good lord, that disenchantment took a lot out of me! I glanced at the clock: it was the next morning. I blinked and checked the time on my phone to make sure. I couldn’t believe it: I’d lost most of a day and hadn’t even noticed it. That spell had been more powerful than I realized.

I heard the sounds of fumbling after Trey answered the phone. “H-hello?” asked what sounded like an old geezer. “Damn this phone…” he wheezed. “I don’t… hello? Is anybody there?” He hung up on me accidentally.

I stared at my phone to make sure I’d dialed the right number. Maybe Trey lost his phone? I called again.

“Who’s there?” said the exhausted sounding old man. “Who’s calling?” he rasped.

“Trey? I’m looking for Trey,” I asked.

“This is he…” he said, then coughed into the phone. “I’m sorry…” he said. “I need to get a lozenge, I think. Who’s this?”

I took a look at the drooling, brain-simple bodybuilder on my floor and wondered if he would be okay by himself for awhile. If this old guy really was Trey, I had some magic to undo.