The White Coven Belfast

By Bob Price

Witch power is a phenomenon recognized to have existed for thousands of years. The witches who survive today keep their existence hidden to remain useful to the continued development of the human species.
Grace Penny an ancient who appears no more than a mid-twenties something is head of the White Coven Belfast. As High Priestess she is the United Kingdom’s northern protector against the mysterious Black a supernatural dimension from which all things evil exist. Her eternal soul old enough to sense when an impending attack from the Black is imminent becomes alert to ominous signs emerging by the day.
Together with her sisters, Grace locks horns with disciples from the mysterious Black as they attempt to gain a foothold on our world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bob Price
• Release date: Jun 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9781800498402

Bob Price

Born in Africa in the early fifties. Today settled in Northern Ireland where sunshine is appreciated. Together with wife, family, cat, dog, and goat. Love classic cars, and keeping up with modern technology. Now in retirement, I have discovered writing is more a vocation than anything else I have ever done. Keeping people entertained with the written word is a truly fantastic art form.

Book preview

The White Coven Belfast

Copyright ®2021 Robert Price

All rights reserved

All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book maybe reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any forms by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without express permission of the publisher.

ISBN: 978-1-80049-840-2

Forward

The dark side of witchcraft is as

intriguing today as it was a thousand years ago. Discovering how to connect with

numerous energies surrounding us underpin much of the most powerful witches throughout history. Little wonder then that we remain as fascinated and a little afraid as our ancient ancestors.

About the Author

With interests in various genres Bob Price carries a fascination of the world in which he resides that

extends beyond what some refer to as normal reality.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

CHAPTER ONE

2025. The COVID pandemic was over. A return to normality that in some indefinable way appeared different to what had passed. People had changed or at least their perspective of life was not what it had once been. Perhaps clearer sighted about the environment and others around them.

***

Sex was complicated. At thirteen Ana could never have imagined being in a situation that made her think sex was more about business than love. Locked up in a van for days with five other young teenagers had slapped her with so many fresh daunting notions it was difficult not to be terrified. She so wanted to be home with her parents. To feel safe and comfortable again. Funny she thought, it was hard to remember what being that way felt like. In an atmosphere filled with fear recalling better times seemed unnatural. Her hands had finally stopped shaking, while the cold chill of dread that ran up and down her spine remained. No one had ever said that being thirteen was easy, but they hadn’t warned her it might be the most vulnerable time of young her life either. Being snatched off the street in broad daylight had never been a consideration. When it happened, it felt like she was a spectator watching someone else being lifted off her feet and bundled into the back of a van. Three men abducted her. Her futile efforts to escape easily overcome. The van had been pitch-black as she remained perfectly still struggling to fight off the panic that made it hard to breathe. Sensing someone close she remained frozen until the door slid open, and sunshine shone into the cramped compartment in which five other teenagers struggled with their own fears. All frozen and barely able to breathe. Their expressions of terror mimicking her own. Each one in turn was then dragged out and hustled into a second larger van parked alongside and ordered to behave and use the plastic seats bolted to the sides.

Bouncing hard each time the van hit a bump did nothing to keep them comfortable. The seats hard plastics uncomfortable after the first few hours of travelling. It had been days since they were taken. Provided two meals a day and the use of a bucket wedged into a plank with slots cut out purposely to avoid spillage. The smell of urine and muck initially distressing, but the longer they lived with it the less nauseatingly obnoxious it became. She guessed humans could get accustomed to anything if forced to do so.

The other girls spoke little frightened by the man who had placed them in the van warning they not make any sound especially talking otherwise he’d cut out their tongues. Keeping six teenage girls silent would have once seemed impossible but Ana had discovered it was really easy. Just threaten them with violence.

Without any idea how long they travelled she gained some idea about her companions. All were from her hometown in Croatia. Two knew one another but the rest were strangers. She appeared to be the youngest whilst the oldest was no more than fifteen. None knew where they were headed though speculation was they were likely to be turned into prostitutes. Street walkers who had sex with strangers for money and gave it all to the men who abducted them. From the guarded whispers between the two girls who knew one another it appeared they had worked out all the possibilities including organ removal. The prospect of losing one or more organs traumatized her for many hours. Pondering the operations and people hidden behind masks with scalpels poised to cut into her. Feeling her life was suddenly forfeit. Changed forever from a peaceful routine into a nightmare. Initially she just wanted to sleep in the hope of waking up at home in bed. Making the experience nothing more than a bad dream. It would not happen.

Her parents were already miles away. The van had been travelling so long it was difficult to know how many days had passed other than from the watery piles in the buckets. Almost filled to the brim spilling over the side when going over a large bump in the road.

Shuddering she focused on her parents and that they were likely frantic over her disappearance. Doing everything possible to find her. For the millionth time she wished to be home again. Telling them how much she loved them. Forgetting arguments and everything else that went with family life.

There had been times when arguments made her wish to be elsewhere. Unrestricted. Free to come and go as she pleased. The kidnappers had introduced her to an unimaginably horrific alternative. Their behaviour and threats confirming no hope for their victims. As if it needed confirmation. It was easy to see that none of the girls round her believed they would be rescued. Maybe, like her they expected to die if they didn’t do as told. Bringing herself out of the doom and gloom wasn’t easy, but something her father had once told her kept repeating itself. As a soldier in Afghanistan fighting the Taliban he had been cut off from his company surrounded by the enemy without any possibility of escape. Yet he had escaped. Feigning death he had tricked them waited for darkness and slipped away back to his unit unseen. He had told her never to give up no matter how desperate a situation might seem. It was the only way people survived.

The thought allowed her to leave emotions in flux after journeying through a myriad of highs and lows. With an unsettled numbness occupying her body and soul she began repeating in her head what she intended to say to her travel companions. Saying something important before the van reached its destination. They needed a plan if they were going to escape. It never occurred to her that the others might be scared to do anything. She was able to suppress her own fears and, as the youngest, she expected them to be more than willing to do whatever it took to escape.

Staring at her feet her gaze moved towards the bucket and its brimming dark contents. Acclimatized to the stench mean t she could look at it without wanting to throw up. How long had it taken for that to happen she wondered?

Looking up at the others it was barely possible to distinguish their features. The dim ceiling bulb casting more shadows than illumination. Her guess was that the light was there to ensure that they did not miss when using the bucket. Each had one of their own fixed in a long wooden board that stretched the centre of the compartment by their feet. All that was missing were paper and privacy.

Food and drink was also supplied through a front hatch. Arriving in small plastic containers. Inside a cheese sandwich and sealed cup of water. Since her capture three boxes had been delivered. It was possible that meant they had been travelling for two days? Hunger appeared a part of being a prisoner. It had been hours since her last sandwich and no more food offered in that time. An attempt to complain the closest banging at the hatch. Failed. No one answered. The girls stopped. Resigned. Miserable. Expressions showing that most had given up. Hopelessness an overwhelming emotion if allowed to run free. Something needed to be done. One of them needed to tell the others to make a stand. They were Croatian, unlike the traffickers. Hardship was in their recent history. Not so their abductors. They appeared to be Indian speaking English, but she couldn’t be certain.

Finally, weary of the silent depression Ana broke it, Has anyone worked out where we’re headed?

You already asked that a dozen times, a girl snapped irritably. Her name Vanja. She looked to be the eldest possibly fifteen. A hand brushing long blonde hair behind an ear as she scowled back, Wherever it is you will not like it. None of us will!

We need to escape. Ana leaned forward like a conspirator. Worn out being pessimistic and longing to be the way her father had always taught her. Optimism overcomes all. We need to escape, she repeated. Six of us can fight our way out. She had their attention and felt the weight of their gazes as they waited to hear her plan.

Her hesitation made Vanja scoff, Are you forgetting that our captors are armed, bigger, stronger and likely to cut our throats? Also, we haven’t a clue where we are or even if we’re still in Croatia, which I doubt.

Why?

Why what? Vanja frowned as though asked a stupid question.

Why don’t you think we’re in Croatia? Ana repeated. She liked to analyse everything to accurately assess a situation. Something else taught her by her father. Being ex-military he always appeared one step ahead of everyone else when it came to challenges.

Because child, Vania replied with unconcealed hostility. We’ve been travelling for at least forty-eight hours and before you ask, that’s how long I’ve managed to keep awake. I’ve been counting minutes in my head. Add the time that I’ve spent sleeping and it could easily be three days. Besides, they want to get us out of Croatia and as far away from our families and the authorities as they can. It’s logical.

And what does your logic tell you about the most likely place for them to take us? Ana asked, suddenly turning everyone’s focus on Vanja. For the first time the older girl appeared uncomfortable. However, she was also following what her parents had taught her, as successful thieves they were observant opportunists.

I’ve read about girls being taken to Arab countries, Vanja speculated.

One of the other’s gasped, Do you think they’re going to sell us to terrorists?

It will be the same result no matter to who or where they sell us, we’re going to end up having sex with dirty, overweight men with bad breath! Vanja snapped.

That’s why we must escape, Ana repeated.

What bit about cutting our throats did you not understand? Vanja asked.

I would rather die than be raped until I’m too old to be thought attractive.

Be careful what you wish for child……. The older girl warned.

None of us are children, not as far as these men are concerned. You stay if you want, but as soon as those doors open, I’m off anyone who wants to join me is welcome.

But they’ll be expecting us to try something, won’t they? Another asked.

Ana looked round, We need a distraction, she said focusing on the bucket by her feet. Reaching forward she lifted it free from its cradle. When the doors open, I’m throwing this over them. If you want your freedom, you’ll all do the same. They’ll be too busy spitting it out to stop us.

Everyone turned slowly to Vanja as if seeking her consent. The older girl leaned back casually growing a wry smile, Might work. Depends how many are out there and if we can get away fast enough. If it’s dark we might have a chance. Ana stared at her, goading her to say more. I can’t say that I don’t like the idea of throwing my crap over them. It’s worth the risk just to do that.

Then we’re decided, Ana glanced at each girl until each had nodded in agreement. All were older, but it didn’t seem to matter.

After their decision all they could do was wait until the van finally came to a halt. Ana’s thoughts returned to sex and how she had always envisaged it. Romance, love and all the things that young girls expect. She promised herself that she would never allow anyone other than a lover to touch her. Not the first time. Reaching to the back of her neck she rubbed an unfamiliar sore that began around the same time as her kidnap. Perhaps a needle used by the kidnappers to sedate her. She wished they’d stuck it in her arm instead. Using her neck seemed more dangerous. The possibility of more injections urged her to ignore her fears and go with their plan.

In time, the van slowed to a halt. The girls rose as one lifting their stinking buckets before turning to face the rear double doors.

CHAPTER TWO

Early the following morning a body in an open grave was discovered at the Lisburn cemetery by an elderly workman who appeared angrier than surprised by its unscheduled occupation. Flagging down a passing police car with two female officers he leaned heavily against the vehicle, I just got into work. The usual caretaker was taken sick last night. His appendix, he paused to catch his breath while the officers waited. There's a body in one of the open graves.

The officers appeared puzzled as one asked, It’s a cemetery.

It's someone else's grave! He growled, irritated by her attempt at humour.

Siobhan Payne, a woman in her late twenties, had been in the Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI) for ten years. As a uniformed officer she had seen and carried out most common tasks expected of her including the discovery of bodies in the wrong place. Was there ever a right place? Then we’d better take a look.

A body did indeed occupy an open grave. A male with a gun in one hand. His head almost decapitated at the neck where the weapon had blasted through skin and bone.

He shouldn’t be there, the workman repeated his irritation still evident.

You didn’t tell us he was armed, the other officer Grace Penny, a twenty-five-year-old blonde with bright green eyes and mischievous smile pointed out.

Didn’t see the point. He won’t be using it, he replied slightly taken aback at being criticized.

Did you get down there to check his pulse? Payne asked.

Give me a break, look at his neck! I’ve seen corpses for the past forty years and can recognize one when I see it! Are you being purposely difficult because it’s your time of the month?

Payne went scarlet about to explode when Penny interrupted. You’d be surprised how many we come across who feign death for a chance to shoot.

The workman frowned at Payne, But he is dead anyone can see that! He doesn’t have a neck!

Fair enough, Penny continued but the gun worthy of mention."

No matter, the workman continued. He shouldn’t be down there!

Penny frowned, I’m sure he’d agree if he could.

Kids sometimes play in here at night trying to scare one another, he told her looking around at the hundreds of gravestones surrounding them. Leave the dead in peace, I say.

He’s hardly a kid, Siobhan retorted. The dead male was chubby with straight black hair a swarthy complexion. And looked to be in his early thirties. I’d guess that he stumbled into the grave and the gun went off.

Maybe he was ghost hunting? Penny suggested.

Well a gun wouldn’t have protected him from ghosts, the workman grumbled.

Or he's a suicide, and falling into the hole was a convenience for the undertaker? Payne replied. The workman scratched his head as though undecided.

Still has no right to be in there, He finally said adding, The van in the compound must belong to him.

What van? Payne asked an eyebrow rising high.

I spotted it when I came in this morning, didn’t think anything of it except for the smell. Might not have noticed it but for that. It's not one of ours and the gates were unlocked which was odd, don't know how that could have happened?

Is there anything else that you want to tell us before we go take a look?

He shook his head and walked them slowly down to a small wire fenced compound at the rear of the cemetery with a few vehicles parked