Angela Thinks Ottilia is Evil

Ottilia panicked and opened the door, not really thinking this through. While she was worried about Angela's reaction, she also thought that the 45-year old woman would give her the benefit of the doubt, seeing as they had been longtime friends with each other, both in and out of the church.

But it was clear the moment she opened the door that it might have been a mistake. Angela looked at her with a stunned look on her face, then demanded to know what was going on.

"This is very unlike you, Otti," she said, using the nickname she usually used for her friend. "Whatever possessed you to dye your hair?" Then she saw that it was much longer than it should have been, not to mention curly. "Or is that actually a wig instead?"

Ottilia pulled her friend into the house and closed the door. Passing by her friend, she accidentally brushed past Ottilia's chest.

"And did you also pad your bra?" Angela asked, stunned again. What was her friend thinking? A midlife crisis perhaps? She had known Ottilia a long time and knew she was against a lot of things, one of them being vanity. But the person in front of her right now ... this was someone who was trying to look more attractive. And that was certainly not the Ottilia she knew.

"It's not padded. And this really is my hair."

"What? You expect me to believe that?" Angela asked. Then she reached over and grabbed one of Ottilia's breasts, through her dress. She expected it to feel like a padded bra, but to her shock, it felt real. A real breast! But that was impossible. Unless ... "Did you get ... implants?" she asked. She almost couldn't say it. She almost couldn't think it. What had happened to her friend to do all of these ... things to herself?

"They're not implants. They're real. I ... I made it happen. I wanted bigger breasts and I made it happen."

"How could you possibly do that?" Angela asked.

"I'll show you," Ottilia said, then led her friend to her bedroom, and then to the "Llyfr Sillafu", sitting on the bed where she left it.

"What is this?" Angela asked, picking it up.

"It's a spell book," Ottilia admitted.

Angela dropped the book on the floor and looked at Ottilia. "Are you out of your mind?" she asked accusingly. "Witchcraft is evil. It's the work of the devil! Does Steven know about this?" She turned and looked at the open bedroom door. Somehow her friend had been corrupted, imbued with the devil. That was why her hair was long and red, and why her breasts were bigger. Her normally prudish friend had become vain and sinful, and this book had something to do with it. She needed to get out of there, get away from Ottilia.

"He doesn't, and I want to keep it that way."

"I bet you do!" Angela yelled. "If he ever found out ..." She paused, then said "He will find out! From me!"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"You've changed, and you don't even realize it! The Otti that I knew would never use a sinful thing like that. Not ever!" she yelled, pointing down at the book lying on the floor.

"Yes, I have changed. But for the better!" Ottilia yelled back. "You don't understand. There's nothing bad about using the book. And there's nothing bad about making yourself look prettier, more attractive."

Angela's eyes went wide, taking a step back. "Who are you?"

"I'm your friend, Angela. And I'll prove it," she said, before picking up the book from the floor.

"Put that thing down," she practically hissed.

"No. You'll see. I'll use one of these spells to help you. Help you understand that there's nothing evil about it, or me. I'm still your friend, and I want to help you."

"You're the one who needs help," Angela said, then glanced at the open bedroom door again. If she ran now, she might be able to get back out to her car before Otti had a chance to stop her.

But before she could even take a step, Ottilia had already opened the book and was reading from it.

So which spell did Ottilia use on Angela? What would happen to her friend?