Set the Stage

Caught between this world and another, floating ethereally above Salem, Massachusetts, the cameras start to roll.

They open on a dark-haired witch seated on a broom and drifting lazily over a busy Salem street. Bits of ash and smoke trail from the woman and drift behind her as she moves. On the tip of the broom perches a large raven, black eyes glittering in the city lights. The dark sky is clear and filled with more stars than are usually visible from a city street.

“Welcome viewers, to an all new season of Harem Hotel!” Eris says, addressing the camera flying at her eye level directly, her demeanor bright but tinged with a noticeable sharp edge. Below her the bustling tourists continue on, unseeing and oblivious. Tickets begin to rain from an otherwise empty sky, but this somehow sparks no panic. Dozens of hands grab them from the air or from where they fall at their feet. The camera follows one as a young man picks it up. It zooms in to reveal a coal-black ticket with blood red script writing. His face is intrigued, and he tucks the ticket into his coat pocket. “This season will be special! Something never before seen. Seven women imbued with my own power, newly made witchlings who will fight for the title of ‘Mistress of the Coven!’ Watch them battle it out in challenges, all while surrounded by the danger of the deep woods and the things that lie within. Though perhaps it will be each other and their growing magic that will be the true danger. And to keep everyone on their toes, the Mistress title must be earned, not bestowed. Defended, not taken for granted.”

The camera keeps pace with the flying hostess, pulling back as she continues down the road. Behind, some of the crowd is already beginning to change course and follow behind her. Passersby below begin to pull out their smartphones and watch. Every screen in town bears Eris’ face as she addresses her adoring public.

“Join me in a season of romance!” Eris says with a flourish of her hand, producing several deep red roses from the shadows that she tosses out to the crowd. “A season of magic!” Another gesture and a bright green flame bursts in her palm and leaves behind an impossibly red apple in the palm of her hand. “... and a season of danger!” The apple immediately starts to cave in on itself, rotting in her palm and leaving behind a wrinkled brown core and then further into gray dust that Eris blows away. “Some of these witches will flourish… and some will wither.”

The witch continues on her flight, tickets continuing to rain down behind her. The speed of her broom increases though there is no sign of the wind touching either the witch or the raven. The two lift higher, the crowds falling away below, while many continue to follow in her direction. The witch drifts over the Olde Salem Greens golf course, Salem High visible to the west. Trees take over nearly the entirety of the ground below as she enters Salem’s Highland Park proper and its 160 acres of moss covered trees and woodland trails. Water can be seen in dozens of places as she flies over, reflecting the witch and the moon behind her.

The camera descends as Eris and Horace reach the southern end of the park and land fully on the ground near the street. Across the way the lights of a mini golf course and the tennis courts beside it begin to flicker.

“Here, Salem. Your gate into our fantasy. Give yourself a taste of magic, watch my witches debase themselves and transform before your eyes! Cheer for your favorites! Many of you may know them, most of them come from right here in Salem. Give them your support or your scorn!” Horace takes to the air just as the broom vanishes into wisps of smoke and Eris turns her back to the camera and walks back towards the night shadowed trees. The camera lifts and follows from behind now, Horace circling in and out of the frame as he flies above Eris.

The ground begins to shake. It starts slowly, like the rumbling of a distant train or herd of wild horses, and builds until it’s almost deafening. Around Eris, a ripple of power distorts the view of the camera. Trees older than the city itself crumble and the dirt beneath the witch’s feet alter. Black-paved asphalt spreads out from her boots each time she takes a step. A large perfect parking lot forms as she moves, erasing everything that had been there a moment before. Eris steps up onto a sidewalk just as it’s created and continues down a path emerging just before her. A ticket booth builds itself to her left, bricks stacking, and vines creeping up them at a rapid pace. Ahead of her, black iron erupts from the ground, twisting with a shriek of metal as massive gates form, the metal twisting by unseen hands and tools to make a letter H forming in the center of each. Again, vines twine up from the grounds and weave themselves through the wrought iron bars. This time, snow white blossoms bloom across them and shine in the moonlight.

Eris waves one hand and the gates swing open. She turns back to the camera as she steps through them, taking a few steps backwards before coming to a stop just inside. The witch smiles, her lips ruby red and her green eyes beginning to glow with power not of this world. Behind her is the park, dark with ominous shadows, a thick forest of trees spreading out in every direction. Eris lifts her hands and dark smoke gathers between her fingers, with a tiny gesture, it begins flowing off and drifting to the ground where it fans out as if it had a mind of its own. Sparks of green light begin to pop in the smoke and for the first time that night actual effort can be seen in the witch’s eyes. Though that effort is mirrored with her determination as well.

“Salem! I give you your Witches Hotel! A carnival of carnality unlike any in the world!”

The air itself buzzes with power as clouds form and then shift, flowing into an ominous massive spiral cloud formation centered directly over her head. Lightning flashes across the sky, blinding white, the explosion of thunder roaring immediately after. Smoke spreads faster and thicker outwards along the ground around her. Shapes begin to form from the gloom; carts and stalls, a well, buildings with undefined edges, a particularly large building with a tower and a bell as dark as the rest, a stockade… a cage hanging from a pole….

Green lightning continues to crash across the night sky, flashing across the trees even as they are overtaken and erased by the smoke pouring from Eris. An entire village forms but the smoke doesn’t stop. It drifts into the trees and moves deeper and deeper, though whatever is forming there is impossible to see. Only the flashes of green from deep in the forest are picked up by the camera.

A single bead of sweat drips from Eris’ brow. Behind her Horace flies over it all, his wings beating out his panic.

With a scream of effort, Eris, The Lady of Ash brings her hands together.

A shockwave of power detonates from where they collide. The wind is deafening. The smoke is blown away with the **** of it, bursting away through the trees. Left behind are the Hotel grounds, ripped from another realm and placed partially within new bounds. Horace caws loudly as he lands on the witch’s shoulder. The bell tower in the center of the village rings loudly. Above it all the clouds begin to separate and disperse and in moments leave the sky as clear as before they came.

Eris takes only one deep breath to regain her near perfect composure, her smile returning to her lips. The glow fades from her eyes though the triumph of her accomplishment remains. Horace looks around at the town that should not be and shudders, his feathers ruffling as he crouches in on himself.

Eris beckons, one dark nailed finger curling in a come hither motion as she once again turns her back on the camera and begins to walk. Around her new additions flare into existence throughout the town. Torches bright with green fire light one after another down the cobbled empty streets. Moss and vines take hold on walls and across windows. Pumpkins and wreathes of orange and yellow appear on porches and on doors.

The witch continues through the town and then beyond, a wide dirt path forming before her as the trees themselves seem to shift and move out of her way. The camera follows beneath the canopy. A light wind blows drying leaves across the path though none seem to touch the witch. Soon the path widens, the footpath ending in a large circular clearing lit brightly in silvery light from the moon that seems to hang just a bit too closely in the sky.

Eris continues across the clearing without slowing, her dress dark moving shadows that twist across her body. She gestures upwards with one hand and again dark tendrils shoot from the ground. Though this time the vines are oil black and lined with vicious looking thorns. The ropes of darkness twist together and form a gnarled throne that faces directly back towards the path she walked to arrive here. Beside the throne another spur of vines creates a tall perch which Horace immediately lands upon. The witch turns and pauses, looking directly into the camera.

“Seven women. Each of them special and each gifted with an arcane art, just waiting to be awakened.” Eris lifts a hand and snaps her fingers. Behind her deep in the trees another green torch ignites and reveals the silhouette of a small hut. Another light ignites and then another, until seven distinct fires burn in the trees, each evenly spaced away from the others in a semi circle around the clearing. Another snap of her fingers and paths burrow their way through the woods towards each, standing torches igniting at the start of each. “The fun starts - now.”

Eris sits on the throne, blood red flowers spreading across the vines as she does. Several feet in front of her, directly in the center of the clearing a large bonfire jumps into existence, deep green flames licking upwards into the night. Eris snaps a final time. The ground around the fire shudders as fresh dirt is pushed up from below, revealing seven graves forming. Headstones shoot out above each, bearing the names of Eris’ chosen: Dylan Scott, Ana Cruz, Fleur Lavigne, Harper Gray, Lily Taylor, Jennifer Quinn, and Corrine Landry.

The camera lifts, rising high above the witch and turning. The shadowy village is visible far below lit in the eerie green light. Beyond it the parking lot lies currently empty though headlights can be seen on the road as a line of cars heads for the park.

“Welcome to Harem Hotel: Season of the Witch!”