The ground beneath her began to smoulder. Whatever this witch-bitch was doing, it was some serious shit.
The circle and symbols around Anora erupted in flame, turning the darkening forest a flickering orange. Anora’s voice rose, the foreign words spilling from her lips like magma from a mountain, carrying a dark magic out into the air.
Olivia pulled at her restraints until they cut into her skin. She bit her lip against the pain, eyes blurring as she aggravated the wound until blood ran across her skin like oil in the hopes it would let her pull free.
The earth began to vibrate with the magic, the dirt blackening as heat blazed up, scorching Olivia’s skin. At this rate the psycho bitch was going to burn down the entire fucking forest.
Anora drew symbols in the air with her wand, trailing just enough of a shimmering tail so Olivia could almost make out what the markings were before they faded. In the pit of her stomach Olivia felt this ritual was about to reach it’s crescendo, and if it did she wasn’t sure there was any hope of escaping with her life.
With a rumbling vibration, cracks began to appear around them; the earth was trembling from the force of whatever was coming, as if the pits of hell were rising up to meet them.