Macbeth - my novel interpretation

The air was moist and with gloom only distorted by the harsh flicker of lightning. There were distant cries of men and a rumble of thunder from the heavens and the earth. An ancient cave lay in one of the rock faces of Scotland not too far from the tiring battle, lit by the glow of magic and wonder, to decide the fate of one and all.

Inside were three impure spirits of the future with hellish faces that could take the compliment of being called female.

‘’When should the three of us meet again? Will it be in thunder, lightning, or rain?’’ One said this while seeing things only she could see.

‘’We’ll meet when the noise of the battle is over, when one side has won and the other side has lost.’’ The second witch twitched her head and looked to the exit of the cave.

‘’That will happen before sunset,’’ said the third witch with undeniable confidence. These creatures were omniscient – a faculty that men only knew God to have.

The thunder grew weaker but with still acknowledgeable presence, two knights bounded past and their swords reflected lightning back into the cave.

‘’Where should we meet?’’ The first witch questioned.

‘’Upon the heath.’’

‘’There to meet with Macbeth.’’ The third witched grinned and revealed teeth that looked a thousand years old yet as sharp as Satan’s trident.

Demented shrieks echoed inside of the witches minds and unearthly spirits that mimicked a cat and a toad formed between realities.

The first witch called to her cat: ‘’I’m coming, Graymalkin!’’

The second witch spoke to herself: ‘’Paddock, calls me.’’

The third witch looked at her spirit and then back to her sisters with a look of meaning and intent.

They all spoke in unison - as if they were one body, ‘’fair is foul and foul is fair, hover through the fog and filthy air.’’

Leaving trails of warmth, light and dark the witches flew from the proprietorial cave and into the night’s portrait.