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The white owl circled the woods of the mountaintop. Observing its target, it dipped downward and descended toward the figure clad in black robes. As it grew near, it slowed, landing on a high branch of an old Oak. For a moment, it sat motionless, then rotated its head, surveying the surrounding landscape. Seeing no others, it faced front again and flew down to the ground where it transformed into the form of a human male. 

 

He gazed thoughtfully at the woman in front of him. Who would have thought that despite everything he had accomplished, everyone who had ever doubted his abilities and anyone who had ever questioned his motives, that it would all come down to this, a showdown with an old woman wearing a black cloak who thought she was more powerful than he.

 

He had almost not come when he received the dispatch. Who did this wretched hag think she was daring to summon him like some ordinary being? But after reading the message several times, even he could not resist the intrigue. The note had been vague:

 

We will meet in Hunter’s Wood exactly one week from today. This ends now. Do not ignore this summons. The gods have spoken.

 

Of course, her gods were not his. However, he never could refuse a challenge and against the advice of his most trusted advisors, he travelled here to meet her and see exactly what she was up to or more likely, what she wanted.

 

The hooded figure raised her head and stared directly into eyes that glowed like two red charcoals. One corner of her mouth turned upward in a wry smile. “So, you still choose to hide your true self.”

 

The male took a few steps, drawing closer to the old woman. “I am not hiding. I choose this form  because it is pleasing and acceptable.”

 

“But, I know who you really are. I have always known.” She spit onto the ground.

 

Ignoring her display of disgust, he continued in an even tone. “And what is it that you think you know, old woman?”

 

“That you are a demon and have no business being in this world because you are evil and that you perpetuate evil.”

 

“I admit nothing,” he snorted. But I will say that there are a countless amount of humans who would disagree with your assessment of me. So, what you think or say is of no consequence to me. I see that you have wasted my time. I am leaving.” He turned, ready to transform back into owl form and fly away.

 

She tossed her head. Her voice grew louder and her words quickened. “I may be old, but you still have no power over me. In fact, it is I who have power over you, demon beast. For, I am an only child.”

 

What a strange threat, he thought. Curiosity once again took hold and he spun around and faced her. Was she as dangerous as she wanted him to think or was she simply crazy? He decided to continue to play along, at least for a little while longer. “Hmm.” His right eyebrow raised into an arch, “And how, prey tell, does being an only child give you any type of power? All I see is an old woman wearing a long black cloak, pretending to be intimidating. But, you are not intimidating, not at all.”

 

Her black cape fluttered in the gentle wind. “Perhaps. Alone, I lack the strength to defeat you. But …” She raised her right hand and gestured towards a cluster of Bearberry bushes behind her. Another hooded woman emerged. She appeared to be much younger than the first. As the second woman reached the old one, she placed her strong left hand into the well worn right hand of the elder. Narrowing her eyes at the human demon, the woman raised her head in defiance, focusing her green eyes firmly onto his and declared, “I am her only child.”

 

The white haired demon broke into uproarious laughter. “And? You are the only child of an only child. That means nothing. You are not the first and you will not be the last. Elder Mother, you and your daughter’s feeble attempt to frighten me into leaving this world that I have molded into glorious chaos with such precision and planning is pathetic. All you have are useless words. You will need much more than that to even begin this battle you believe you are capable of fighting.”

 

“Perhaps. With only two, I admit it would be difficult. But …” The old woman raised her left hand and gestured toward a Mountain Laurel Evergreen bush blooming with clusters of pink and white flowers. A third, much younger hooded woman emerged. She crossed behind the other two then grasped the strong hand of the second woman with the smooth nimble fingers of her own. She stood the tallest of the three and it was readily apparent, even to the demon, that her youth provided her with the determined strength and fearlessness of those who could boldly go without the apprehension of past failures. She too looked the beast in the eye and announced, “I am her only child.” 

 

All three stood ramrod straight, unafraid and undaunted. The demon who, for a moment, shifted his glowing eyes from side to side, briefly opened his mouth, then closed it without uttering a sound as his fists clenched and unclenched. He took a deep breath while contemplating what he had just learned. “So, exactly what do I have here? An only child of an only child of an only child, eh? The Power of Three? Am I supposed to be afraid? Foolish witches, if witches you are, you cannot harm me. I am immortal,” he sneered as his lips formed a self congratulatory grin.

 

Still holding her daughter’s hand, the old woman smiled. “Be afraid, demon. Be very afraid. We are not ordinary witches. We are Streghe.”

 

Instantly, bulging eyes replaced the smirking grin. “Streghe? Italian witches?” Black smoke escaped from his nostrils. His human form grew taller. As his body rose to the height of a three story building, looming over the three Streghe, it turned dark as night. Boils broke out upon his skin and flames poked through long cracks throughout his now fully demonic form until they surrounded him in a fiery glow. His head elongated and two curved horns pushed up through the top of his skull. Spheres of flame took shape in his palms and a long, loud guttural growl escaped from deep inside of his massive chest.

 

“And I am Abaddon Archangel of the Underworld!” The sound of his voice boomed throughout the woods. “I will crush you like ants under my massive heal. Your bodies will be consumed by my fire and burn to ashes that will scatter in the wind. This world is mine and you will not stop me from taking what I want!”

 

The three woman did not flinch. Instead, the old woman’s daughter nodded her head. "Ah, there you are. Finally, you reveal your true self." With that said, she calmly reached behind her feet and pulled out a small bowl of water. Bowing her head, she held it between both of her hands. The youngest then withdrew a small vial and shook exactly three drops of olive oil into the water. They watched as the drops separated, floating away from each other indicating the presence of Malocchio, the Evil Eye, just as they had expected.

 

Next, the oldest withdrew two sewing needles from her pocket and poked the tip of one into the other while all three chanted: “Occhi e contro occhi e perticelli agli occhi, crepa la invida e schiattono gli occhi.” She then dropped the needles into the water on top of the oil drops where they floated like tiny long ships on a miniature lake. The old woman then removed a small pouch from her cloak and sprinkled three pinches of salt in between the oil drops in the bowl. Finally, the youngest produced a pair of scissors and jabbed them once into the bowl of water. After withdrawing the scissors, she inserted her fingers through the holes and cut the air above the bowl three times.

 

Transfixed, the demon watched their ceremony with amusement as he held the still flaming orbs in each of his hands. These three can perform whatever ritual they please, he reckoned, but nothing would have any effect on him. He had been promised this world in exchange for his eons of service to the Master. That reward came with complete control over it, protection from challengers and his own immortality. No beings of this world would ever be capable of sending him back, not even the Streghe.

 

As they finished the ritual, dark clouds moved into the sky overhead, backlit by occasional white lightning and a low rumble of thunder. The demon, tired of watching what he perceived as their useless game, released a resounding roar, raised both hands and began to shoot his flaming spheres at the three women. Again and again he aimed and shot. Fire rained down all around the three Streghe yet they remained untouched. The daughter placed the bowl on the ground. Once again, the woman clasped hands forming a triangle. They travelled in a counter clockwise direction and chanted:

 

Hear us O’Goddesses of the Moon

Luna, Juno and Diana

By the Power of Three

Help our world break free

From the evil driving us to doom

 

Render the beast forever powerless

Contained in his gilded cage

Return his innocent form

And end this terrible storm

Leave him drained and devoid of rage

 

The three continued to circle the small pot of water on the ground while repeating their mantra. Overhead, the sky grew almost pitch black and the lightning grew stronger, producing deafening claps of thunder. 

 

The demon, determined to end this bizarre attack, decided to gain a better vantage point. Wings sprouted from the beast’s back as he floated upward, hovering above the ground over the Streghe, still hurling big clumps of flame and still missing. Frustrated, he growled so loudly that the trees shook. Never had he encountered humans with power like that of these three Streghe. It was as if an invisible bubble of protection had surrounded them, keeping them safe.

 

The third time the Streghe chanted their request, the demon faltered completely. His body shrank as he plummeted to the ground, weakened and helpless. Returning to his original tiny form, his body laid motionless with wings splayed out on either side. Only the slight rising and lowering of his feathered chest indicated that he still lived.

 

The youngest reached down and scooped up the little owl. Her mother opened the door of a golden cage. “Put him in here where he can never hurt anyone ever again.”

 

The youngest nodded and placed him inside. As she closed the door, she watched until it melted into the bars of the cage, becoming one with it, sealing it tight, never to be opened again. With Abaddon now trapped inside of the golden cage, the spell he had so meticulously woven was broken. Soon, all would be right with their world.  She took the cage from her mother and handed it to the elder. “Nona, how do we know he will never escape?”

 

The old one shrugged her shoulders. “We don’t. We Streghe can only keep him under our control and hope that his evil will never again be let loose upon our world. He is still immortal, so it is imperative that we never become careless or have pity on him. Because if we do, everything we have done here today will have been in vain. When your mother and I are gone, the responsibility of guardianship will be yours my child and then it will become your only daughter’s then her only daughter’s and so on. Our line will propagate only one female child per mother until the end of time. Such is our duty. Such is our burden. Such is our destiny. The Power of Three must always continue to ensure that our people never become lost again.”

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© 2026 by Cheryl Ann Guido

Image is free use from Pixabay (no attribution required)

Inspired by a writing prompt from Writers Unite! on Facebook