A Brief History of Bast {Simon story}

Bast walked around the sofa, where she could see Mrs. B’s body on the ground. She was without a doubt dead, and parts of her body had been chewed off by the cats.

“Oh, no,” the goddess rushed to Mrs. B’s side. “Oh, Helen,” she held Mrs. B’s face in her hands. “My poor sister.”

“Sister?” Simon said. Sarah and Tommy repeated the word.

“My parents adopted her,” Bast weeped.

“She was raised by gods,” Simon said, “That’s why she was so good at magic.”

“She was a natural, but they cultivated it.” Bast’s fur was starting to get matted from tears. “We fought growing up, but I always loved her.”

“Why did she summon you?” Simon asked.

“She said something was coming,” Bast sniffed. “Before we could get into details, I got locked up by that -.”

“Carl.” Simon said.

“Yeah, who the frak is Carl?” Sarah demanded.

“A very powerful and evil witch. He’s still unconscious in the basement.”

“Shouldn’t we, like, leave?” Tommy suggested.

“No,” Bast said, rising from Mrs. B’s body. “We must avenge Helen.”

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