.

The village where the witches had stationed themselves after finis.h.i.+ng the ritual now closely monitored the people around who had been injected and infected with the potion the black witch named Ester had given them. 

After the man was killed with his throat slit, he was injected with the serum of potion, the potion which had the extraction of the substance called Euphorine that allowed the vampires and pureblooded vampires in turning the humans to half-vampires. The Euphorine which they had received was not from any vampire but a pureblooded vampire which had a much stronger essence of power to itself when it came to converting the being to its own. 

One of the black witches walked to the man who had been killed and revived back. Unlike the usual way of transformation, the witches were working on converting humans to a set of half-breed black witches.

"How are you doing, Michael?" the woman black witch who had taken upon the appearance of a human asked the man. 

The man didn't respond but only stared back at her. There were a lot of humans who had to be turned and the black witches were targeting one after another while also trying to not alert the others from going on a panic frenzy. What they needed was people to be turned, and not having corpses piling up one after another.

"Can you hear what I am saying," she stepped forward to cup the man's face. He was the test subject, not a successful one but somewhat close. At least he didn't behave like the dimwitted humans. 

Another black witcher walked towards them, "Stop annoying the man. Asking him the question more than ten times is not going to change his reaction."

The woman grinned, her eyes turning to slits and the slithering tongue coming out as she spoke, "It is a pity that we picked him. Such a pretty face who now looks damaged. Should have saved him for the last until we were sure."

"We don't have time like that to play with people whom you find to be pretty. You should feel fortunate that Ester even chose to have you in the group, especially with that one track of mind," the male black witcher spoke, his eyes rolling. 

"Don't behave like a little b.i.t.c.h of that girl. If it weren't for me you wouldn't have found the perfect spot to start the ritual. Do you think killing the magistrate was easy?" she stepped close the half turned witch, placing her hand on his chest to look into his eyes.

"Careful with what you speak about Ester. You will have your tongue on the ground," the fellow black witch warned her. 

"Hmm? Do you have a thing for the leader?" the woman scoffed, "Don't think she will even look at you more than twice. You should be the first one to know that harboring feelings for another in us black witches is not possible. The concept of love doesn't exist."

"If you know Ester is the one who is driving it, then learn to follow the orders that have been set by her. You failed to do so don't forget I will be the first one in line to have your head in my hand and the body on your ground," the man glared down.

"A f.u.c.ker like you wouldn't be able to touch me. You might be a man and might think highly of yourself but I am much experienced than you are," she stepped away from the doll-like man to turn and face the male black witcher, "Ester wants us to manifest the village with the potion so why don't you go complete that, than trying to argue with me. Saying that she walked away from them to greet the fellow villagers who she had befriended in two weeks.

Not even the magistrate had found out about it. Unfortunately, the transition was taking place painfully slow which extended their stay in the village for more than a few weeks now. Two more days pa.s.sed by and none of them had found out about the presence of the black witches in the village they lived in. 

With another day pa.s.sing by, the man who was making rounds subtly without being too obvious to constantly monitor the people whom they infected felt a pungent smell wafting across his nose. The male black witch had also turned himself to a human in appearance to perceive the crowd around them and to complete the task easily with their manipulative words. 

His footsteps stopped and he looked around to see which house was the smell was coming from. Sniffing, the black witch walked towards one of the houses. Taking a look back and forth around him, he opened the door of the house where the first test subject was living here. It was the same man who was being hit on by the fellow female black witch. 

Black witches were used to the stinking smell as that was where they came from, evolved from and worked with. Walking around the house, he found the man who sat at the table. And to say the man looked different would be an understatement. The half-bred witch looked as if he had been roasted in the weather of harsh sunlight. His eyes wide open, his body looking dry and almost chalk-like. Previously the man was not responding to their words but this time, the black witcher was sure that the man was dead. 

The potion that was made hadn't been successful. All the black witches working here had thought it was working fine as the man had continued to live after reviving him back. Looking around the house which looked shabby, he decided to pick the man up so that they could hide this man's death while continuing to experiment with the potion with the other villagers.

Walking closer, he touched the man's hand to feel the skin that felt chalkier than the appearance. Deciding to take him the way he was sitting on the chair through the back door, the black witch pulled the chair and started to drag it on the ground...