Hex Files 1: Broan Ova Brayns


By Onix

Move over Boys, the bitch is back- The HEXFILES- Follows the storyline started in "That Old Black Magic" series- Some of the same characters appear- but its not necessary to read them before diving into this- but It wouldn't hurt-

Ya Know, It Ain't Easy being me.

One Minute you're a morose little recluse college student with a bad attitude and flair for sarcasm.

The next minute you're a morose college student with a bad attitude and a flair for black Magic...

Still one more minute and your trapped inside a strangers life and you're a pleasant, jovial, mother friggin engaging even- bartender with a wide smile and a comforting shoulder.

Well at least the bartender's hat is only for today. Sometimes I vaguely remember that my normal headdress used to be a nice pointed black piece with the occasional spider hanging from it's brim.

But that was what seemed a long time ago.

If there was one skill I never mastered in life and I've mastered a lot, it's interacting with people in a service capacity. I'm not some snotty holier then though who would rather be on the receiving end of the service with a smile either. I'm the kind of guy who gets embarrassed when a waitress looks like her trays to heavy or the cabbie calls me sir. Now I certainly don't like the way these God Damn law students keep looking at me like later I should be pulling them around in a rickshaw or mucking out the stables while singing a spirited native song.

It might be the fact that I hate the service industry or it may be just the fact that I despise....since people in my position aren't technically supposed to hate...so despise is about as emphatic as I'm aloud. So anyway I despise Law students especially of the ivy league variety. I think people who go to ivy league schools and wear little emblems are the kind of people who put Martha Stewart in charge of style in this county....you got it white people.

And that's no joke, there are three black men in this room and no black women, now compare that to the listed two hundred that I'm supposedly serving.

I thought preppy law students with smug grin's and callous attitudes were the congregation of 80's TV stereotyping the yuppie generation. Turns out LA Law was right -these bastards really do exist. And they were existing all around me. Tight fisted trust fund babies with names like, Brad and Douglas, knocking back imported beer and speaking about the economy the way most people discuss the climate in far away places, like Uganda or Paraguay. Maybe I'm just a little testy because the silver spoon hasn't exactly been dipping into my tip jar, which I might take to shaking like a dehydrated prisoner praying for rain outside his cell window.

I need the money it's just embarrassing my day gig at the gym isn't exactly paying the bills

. Once upon a time, I can remember dimly, if this girl needed money well then hell she'd just spin straw into gold. That's one of the upsides of being a witch. Freed from the mortal burden of materialism. When you realize you can have anything you want you basically decide to give up competing on that plane and invest in a solid pair of boots and a comfy chair....and perhaps a flat screen TV and an open credit account at the neighborhood Deli.

...But I haven't been that man in almost a year. He seems like some kind of fond memory of someone I used to know. And it's really stating to grieve me...

Now I have to do ridiculous things like shlep beers to pampered ingrates for 6 hours of my Saturday night while I could be spending my evening doing something fun...like sleeping.

It's not like my position here is really necessary. If the damn caterer had thought ahead and invested in beers with twist off caps, I wouldn't have a damn thing to do.

"Oh Thank God at least the bartender's Hot." I heard a very forceful feminine voice say from behind me.

I put the glass I was polishing down and turned. Oh good I get the opportunity to be hit on by yet another naive heterosexual girl. I mean aren't these girls supposed to be in law school? They're powers of deduction and reason are a little under developed if they're hitting on me.

I'm young.

I'm impeccably kept from my clean fingernails to my very discreetly styled eyebrows.

Add that to the 220 lbs of six foot obsessively built muscle and my boy like charm.

Yes, counselor the bartenders a fag, a big ole Mary to be exact -bark up another tree baby you ain't got the bone I'm looking for.

The Two Girls who sat in front of me were cute college girl types...that's about as descriptive as I get with women. Their either cute, fat or honorable...honorable being the word I use when physical description would be unkind but that they have a nice personality. Women are like dead Air to me. Half the time I don't even notice they're in the room.

The one girl was blonde with a shy unassuming smile and the other had dark hair and a sophisticated authority. I say it was sophisticated because she had more Gucci on then Tom Ford.

"My name's Heather," She pointed to the cute girl with the humble but inviting smile, "that's Jody."

"Hi," the little blonde waved.

"Evening ladies what can I get for you tonight?"

"Two Cosmopolitan's up, please."

"right away." I knelt down into the bartenders well and began my vodka alchemy.

The Dark Haired one, Heather, asked "Has anyone ever told you how striking your eyes are handsome.

I looked up, "I'd be lying to you if told you no."

I thought you'd say that." She said with a flip of her dark hair. She was laying it on pretty thick, and she seemed like a nice girl so I was putting a stop to this right now, "I appreciate it more when it comes from an intelligent woman like yourself." The smile got wider, oh well time to sink the knife in, "IT really sucks when you hear it from a sweaty guy on a dance floor whose pupils are so dilated he could see through solid steel."

She considered my statement for a minute and then dropped her head onto the bar in grief. "I Knew it." She yelled furiously into her hands.

Jody gave me a wink and giggled "I told you Heather."

"Of Course he's GAY!" Heather said angrily, "HE's cute. HE's polite. And he hasn't given us that creepy shark look yet....UGH!"

"Sorry" I said with a beaming smile.

"It's alright." Jody giggled.

"Great, why did I drink three martini's and squeeze into this skirt....I could be at home watching some crime show..." Heater said miserably.

"There's plenty of guys here." I offered. None I'd let lay one hand on me ....but we were talking quantity not quality.

"These rejects?" Heather asked incredulously. "oh yeah Line em up. Reformed high school losers more interested in bagging you now cause cooler guys got to do it in high school...Oh and trust fund babies with silver spoons...Whoopee. I can feel my ring finger itching already!"

"Sore subject?" I asked with a bemused smile.

"Very sore." Heather answered.

"C'mon Heather let's just drink our drinks and go ho.....Holy Fuck!" Jodi's cute little head swung around faster then a bullet. She quickly hid her head in her hands. "I thought you said he wasn't going to be here!" she snarled.

Heather turned and started to apologize as she looked into the mingling crowd. "Oh God Jo...they said he'd be at his parent's house in California."

In no time the girls were joined in front of me by what I must admit were to incredibly attractive men. Both tall with crisp clothes and haircuts. I could tell right away though that there was something wrong with them. To much white in the smile. There's something about a toothy Cheshire grin from a twenty something that makes me think of Martha's vineyard and weekends at Hianous port.

They were I guess the same height about 6 foot. One had dark auburn hair falling to his ears, the other dark locks that were gelled into a smooth arc from his forehead to the back of his neck.


Very pretty.

They were definitely tapping into a very Ben affleck Mat Damon kinda vibe.

It was like to soap opera Lothario's just fell into my lap, and I could tell because my lap was purposefully responding.

"Heather, Jodi, I didn't expect to see you here." The brown doe eyed boy said oozing charm all over my bar.

"Or so much of you," the dark haired boy murmured slyly.

Both girls stared ahead, unmoving.

"Go away Kyle." Jodi asked not turning to them.

Both boys casually ignored me. Then again there kind usually do, it's best to ignore the HELP. The brunette, obviously Kyle, put his hand on her shoulder, "Aww c'mon Jodi, I haven't seen you since that party at The SIGMA house, and you left so quickly that I never got to say goodbye."

Jodi fixed Kyle with an icy glare, "I'm sorry the paramedic's were in such a rush to pump my stomach I forgot."

Kyle's confidant eyes seemed to wince a little but he quickly recovered, "That was such a shame, why don't you let me and Chris buy you a drink as penance, " he pleaded cajolingly.

That was apparently Heather's breaking pint. She turned her stool and rounded on the poster boys. "Why so you can doctor them again? what do you think we are idiots!" She fumed. "Get away right now Pussy."

Kyle's eyes darkened, "I don't know what your talking about."

"Like hell you don't."

Dark haired Chris interceded at that point, "C'mon Kyle, we're obviously interrupting them, lets sit down I'm hungry."

Kyle smiled again looking for all the world like an angelic little rugby player, "Yeah I bet their on the job. The way their dressed their probably meeting a Client." He laughed.

Chris laughed right along, "Yeah gotta pay for books some way."

Heather fumed, "You can't treat me like..."

"A whore?" Kyle offered. "I don't think anyone would blame me. Your sitting here advertising like white trash, using all that body to get attention."

Chris slid up closer to her, his breath against her hairline, "Nothing wrong with it baby, you got all that shit, you gotta show it off...it's your job."

"I've seen your Grades Heather," Kyle said putting a comforting hand on her bare shoulder, she in turn recoiled from his touch, "It's obviously all you good for. Function does follow form after all"

And here I stood. Watching all this nonsense. And not doing a Damn thing. Why would I? It's none of my business I'm just the Bartender. Just your average every day shmoo with a glass and a rag. But something, that I thought had been locked away along time ago was waking up at the back of my mind. Blowing cobwebs off it's shackles and stirring.

"You son of a bitch." Jodi swore.

Chris looked over heather at her little blonde sidekick, "don't be jealous just cause you got the brains and she's got the tits Jo- I'd still fuck ya." Then he turned and grinned. "Only once, but id still fuck ya."

"With what, that limp little dick, I don't think so, " she snorted.

"Let's get out here," Kyle turned, "I'd stay but I obviously can't afford your price."

"What gives you the right..." Heather accused her dark tresses shaking violently.

Kyle Gave Heather an undisguised look of disgust, "If you don't want to be treated like a slut don't dress like one."

Chris laughed leering at Heather's exposed flesh, "Yeah I can tell by that cover that your book's got lots of four letter words in it."

"So stop being such a bitch and let me stick my bookmark in." Kyle laughed.

Is this how straight people mate? It's quite disturbing.

Heather seemed so shook that she just turned away and whispered, "Get away from me pig."

If there's one thing I hate to see, is a strong woman forced by shame to crumble. It's just heartbreaking.

"Let's roll -this Eye Candy is too expensive."

And they both sauntered back into the throng.

Heather grabbed her bag and ran to the ladies room, her mascara running down her face in black rivers.

Jodi looked at me and sighed. I numbly handed her a new drink. "On the house" I offered.

She smiled a wane smile and downed it. "they've been doing that shit for three years. Kyle and her went on one date, she turned him down, and we've had to sit through little scenes like that sporadically ever since."

"No one's put a stop to it?" I asked.

"Kyle's parents are Alumni, Chris's won so many medals for track in under Grad that they got him his own trophy case at the school- me and Heather are just two poor little match girls on Scholarship."

"Someone should do something." I said stupidly.

"Yeah," she nodded already having resigned herself to the reality of the situation, that no one was going to. Those guys are to big for their britches and to smart for their own good."

Her surrender to it was so sad that I turned away and came face to face with my own reflection in the liqueur cabinets glass surface.

Crystal blue eyes stared back at me.

Someone should....I should...but how?

Snap. Crackle. POP.

And then I smiled.

Now to say that I snapped would give you an undue feeling that I had taken a turn for the worse, that's simply not true-

I just suddenly got it together to admit who and what

I was. Breaking surface and back into reality.

Like I had just broken a Spell.

What the fuck?

I mean really what the fuck?

What the hell have I been doing for the past year?

I was suddenly back in full control, seems like that was just the kiss my fairy princess ass needed.

And now I had to thank Kyle and Chris the only way I knew how...

And then I merrily dropped the glass I was holding, right to the floor. "Jody, if you'll excuse me, it seems I have work to do." I irritably rubbed the stubble on my head.

Shaved hair? Where the fuck was all my hair? "And change into something more comfortable." I added.

She just watched me as I wandered away. My mind over brimming with knowledge I had locked away so long ago.

I made my way towards the door, frantic servers, ran passed me as I strode purposefully towards the men's room. People looked at me strangely as I went directly to the sinks and their large mirrors.

Just like riding a bike. Sure there wasn't any fox root or nightshade for me to use like the proper spell would have required......but you work with what you have. Vaults opened in my mind. Long locked doors swinging open with exuberant squeals.

I though quickly rummaging through, old hex's, dead religion, and ancient languages. For a moment I considered a rather nasty Syrian enchantment but that was just me trying to show off my education after several months of gross misuse. Instead an idea formed in my mind, and the harsh rasping guttural words of an old gypsy charm took shape. A curse from one of the caravans that called eastern Prussia Home...

I chuckled in spite of myself....there's that gleeful megalomaniac I remembered.

Faucets turned on by themselves, glass broke, and the lights began to flicker and to undulate. The customers busy with their localized catastrophe and escaping it, didn't hear me quietly muttering old languages that filled my head like an unleashed river.. I thought of the spell as I concentrated on their..."Reward".

Too big for their britches...huh I'll show them too Big.

Too smart for their own good....I'll show them too smart.

Ugh but first, to do something about this image staring back at me. •

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