The (Doomstar) Witch - And You (an earlier write)
The Witch in Pursuit.
There comes a certain kind of silence that is not peace, a kind of calm that doesn't settle, but stirs. When you find yourself in that silence, on the edge of clarity, walking on soft eggshells around someone who smiles too often or knows too much, you may be near one.
A witch, not the storybook kind, not the broom rider or forest recluse, but the kind who moves through modern life with perfect composure and hidden appetite. And so the question arises, what do you do when you suspect you are being pursued by a witch or that one shares your space, be it your workplace, your family, your community? This is what I intend to answer.
I first believe the body. The first signal is not mental, it is physical. Your body knows before your mind will allow it.
You'll feel slight tension in the chest, even when the conversation seems pleasant. A reluctance to speak your full truth. A subtle feeling of surveillance, as if someone is watching what you reveal.
A tightening after they leave the room. A dissonance between what you just said and what you meant to say. This is not anxiety, it is detection.
The body is the most honest thing you carry. It does not lie about danger. It just waits for you to listen.
So the first counsel is this. Listen to your physical intelligence before the charm sets in, before the fog thickens, before you forget what you used to know.
Two. The slow seduction of confusion.
Once the witch notices you, you may feel special, seen, heard, studied even. But what follows is not clarity. What follows is subtle confusion.
They remember your words with too much precision. They laugh at things that weren't quite jokes. They seem to know your next step before you take it.
But behind their closeness, there's something slippery. Something untraceable. A blank spot in the record.
That blank spot. That's where you begin to vanish.
So take this to heart. Where confusion lingers, do not plant your flag.
You may ask, but don't all people cause confusion now and then? Yes. But the witch does not cause confusion.
The witch curates it. They tend it like a quiet garden. And they always have room for one more visitor.
Third. Diagnostic questions for the wary soul.
If you suspect you are being pursued, here are the questions I recommend. Measured, not frantic, to be asked quietly in the privacy of your own mind. One.
Am I more unsure of myself after each interaction with this person? Two.
Do I feel compelled to share with them even when something within me resists? Three. Do I find myself defending them to others without knowing why?
Four. Do small tensions seem to bloom when they are around, though no one can point to the cause? Five.
Do I feel oddly tethered to their approval, even though I never asked for it?
Six.
Have I begun to isolate from others I once trusted because of subtle suggestions they've made? If you answer yes to three or more of these, pause. You may be in the outer web.
Full.
Locating the witch, without naming names.
In a shared space, office, studio, family, congregation, the witch can hide easily. After all, most people are eager to blame themselves for discontent. So if you suspect the presence of a witch, look for patterns of breakdown.
A team that once collaborated now splinters into factions. Disagreements appear where harmony once lived. People begin second-guessing themselves out loud.
Mistrust spreads faster than the facts can account for. And somehow, one person always seems centered in the confusion, but never accused. This is the key.
The witch is always close to the chaos, but just far enough to remain blameless. They stir. Then step back.
Then offer comfort. Only to stir again.
If your group cannot name what's wrong, look for who seems most composed in the breakdown. Not the loudest. The calmest.
The one who feeds on the confusion. You'll find them, but do not point.
This is not Salem. This is diagnosis. V.
What not to do. Here are three errors made by those who finally see the witch. 1.
Direct confrontation. The witch lives for it.
They thrive on drama, on being misunderstood, on turning the accusation into proof of your instability. They will not show fear. They will show wounded brilliance.
They will cry or they will smile. But either way, you'll lose the room. 2.
Public disclosure. Don't call them out at the table.
You will be made to seem vindictive, irrational, jealous, or unstable. Because the witch has already laid the groundwork. You will step into a trap they built while watching you blink.
- Total repression equally dangerous.
If you bury the suspicion, the witch will use your silence against you. They'll assume control of the shared narrative, and your slowly growing dread will turn into paralysis. 6.
The correct strategy. Disengage the thread.
The witch's spell is made of threads, not chains. Threads. Tension.
Suggestion.
Guilt.
Approval. And the whisper of intimacy.
Your task is not to cut them with violence. It is to let them go slack. Here's how.
- Reclaim your rhythm.
Begin speaking slower around them. Don't match their cadence. Do not lean forward.
Re-center yourself in your own timing. Witches despise rhythm they cannot conduct.
- Refuse reflexive disclosure.
Don't offer your secrets as a defense. Let silence do the work. The witch cannot extract what you do not volunteer.
- Return to trusted witnesses. Reconnect with someone outside their web, someone you trust.
Tell them plainly, I need to remember what it's like to be in a room without second-guessing myself. 4. Observe without absorbing.
Watch the patterns unfold.
Keep your eyes open, but your spirit closed.
The witch cannot bind a soul that is shielded by calm clarity. 5. Release the need to explain.
The witch wants your justification, your accounting, your apology. Give them none of it. Simply step out, quietly, without permission.
You owe them nothing. 7. The pursuer witch.
Now let us speak of the most aggressive variety.
The pursuer.
Not satisfied with proximity. They seek you. Through flattery, shared wounds, aligned missions.
They'll just happen to be wherever you are. At first, it feels like fate.
Later, like suffocation.
What do you do?
Don't run. Don't chase. Don't explain.
Don't test. Pursuers feed on feedback.
Simply flatten the field. Offer no reaction. Speak in clear, dispassionate sentences.
Keep responses grounded in the present. No theorizing. No psychoanalysis.
No deep shares.
Think of it like cutting the oxygen.
If you do this long enough, they will either escalate, revealing themselves fully, or move on to easier prey. Either way, you win. Fates.
Living near the witch. Sometimes, escape is not immediate. You may live next to one, work next to one, share blood with one.
In these cases, do not fixate on removing them. Fixate on cleansing your internal space. Speak to a friend outside the circle regularly.
Journal to reclaim your language. Keep one room, one practice, one sentence that is yours alone. Do not let them define your reality.
You cannot always remove the witch, but you can always refuse their architecture. Nigh. Final word.
On mercy one. Last thing.
Not every person who distorts, divides, or manipulates is a full witch. Sometimes they are just hurt, just scared, just mimicking the power they wish they had. That doesn't make them harmless.
But it does mean you may walk away without hatred, not to excuse them, but to free yourself. The greatest power the witch ever claimed was to make you become like them in your exit. Do not grant it.
Leave clean.
Leave clear.
And keep the path swept behind you. Someone else may be following.