THE WITCH

 

THE WITCH

IV

“The dark forest held unspeakable atrocities and monsters that plagued the man since the beginning of time, to rule over their dominion a sisterhood of witches was formed to keep the balance, they were given the gift of magic by the old gods to restore balance to the universe but the very witches that sought to protect man usurped the gods and became evil. Their goal to wipe out all of man to rule as the lesser gods in harmony with nature.”

Clarice von Dyke read from the Dark Magic book inside the cottage with awe, the excerpt gaining weight in her shoulders as heavy as a boulder. She closed the book with a loud thump and looked at the red-haired woman which shined like embers in the night time. Her skin pale and ruddy like a new born babe.

She wore a red cowl that stretched through from her head to her feet magnificent in all the ways. Her head covered by the same red hoodie, halfway hiding her face, as if she was a wanted specimen. Her teeth were white as snow and her incisors incredibly sharp and seemingly jagged. She cast an evil smile on Clarice. Across her chest was a strapped black torniquet that was leather showing off her figure and voluptuous breasts.

“Is this true?” asked Clarice childly.

“Every word your highness” said the mysterious lady who later revealed her name to be Meryl.

“Tell me why did you venture into the dark forest?” she asked inquisitively.

“I was running…running away from the clutches of my husband…” she said stammering as she held the book trembling, almost falling it to the ground.

“But that is half the truth…you see the dark forest has a soul of its own since the beginning of time…the forest called you Clarice…” said Meryl her voice sounding like a slithery snake.

“How is that possible?” she asked laconically.

“Let me show you…,” said Meryl.

She picked up a pot with a plant that was dead, its red roses turned brown and ashy like chalk. She placed it on the table with precision. With a swirling motion she conjured a spell, she spoke of an ancient tongue that not even Clarice could decipher. Slowly the rose turned to crimson red, its roots sprouting from the pot like an emerging giant from slumber.

Its leaves became greener and greener…the stem became thicker and thicker…the roses became red like crimson, healthy and valiant like a strong new born. The rose opened slowly as if kissed by the sun, beautiful and glorious.

Meryl’s glowing hands faded like a fading lantern. She slowly picked up the pot and showed it to Clarice. There Clarice stood transfixed completely staring at the pot with bewilderment, her mouth wide open and her face filled with pallor.

How can a dying plant be engendered to such a beautiful masterpiece?

What kind of sorcery is this?

How can this pot give life to a furze of nature?

Puzzled and utterly speechless Clarice’s hands trembled again dropping the pot shattering it to several pieces. She gasped as the pot touched the ground. Meryl stood across her smiling as she bent down and picked the rose stretching out her hand offering it to her in reverence.

“You see Clarice, we are not of this realm. The sisterhood stood over man for a millennium and we take refuge here in the dark forest waiting for our Red Queen to rise for us to restore balance to the world,” said Meryl with exultation raising her hands slightly to give Clarice a warm embrace.

“You are home…Clarice, you can finally rest” said Meryl cheerfully, as if she had an epiphany. Her eyes were slightly red in color with hues of brown and crimson. She stared into Clarice’s eyes as if she could see through down to her fragile soul.

She grabbed her fiery lantern.

“Come now child, with me…” said Meryl as she stretched out her arm to meet Clarice’s bony fingers.

“You have much to learn…” she added.

Together they walked into the Dark Forest camouflaged by the darkness until they were one.

“Where are you taking me?” asked Clarice defensively.

“To your requiem my dear…,” said Meryl again speaking in riddles.

Twigs and branches scraped their skins turning their flawless pale skin into tiny bruises of blood. From a distance she could hear the hissing of a snake, the hooting of an owl and the cry of a wolf.

There in the thick of the lush green flaura Meryl shinned the light on the winding path going down and down, deeper and deeper within the crevices of the Dark Forest. Until they came across a huge hollow cave that stretched several feet.

Inside the cave were women wearing cloaks, their faces hidden under thick hoodies each holding a lantern that burned with a luminous blue flame. They formed a circle that was almost too precise. Clarice’s heart pounded fast and impetuously her head filled with precipitation.

Her hair covered in leaves and twigs her white bridal gown stained with mud and wildlife. There inside the carefully articulated circle was a man stripped naked and gagged with a piece of cloth. His back bruised with ancient runes and symbols bloodied and desecrated.

She looked closely at the man with scrutiny. There in the middle was Bravos her fiancé beaten to a pulp, his words jumbled up by the cloth, his hands and feet bound by a thick hemp rope. His eye swollen the size of an apple, the moment she saw Clarice he yelled in great cacophony.

“Is this the man you wish to wed?” asked Meryl her red eyes glowing in the lantern light she held.

“Bravos!” cried Clarice.

Meryl pulled a huge dagger from her vestments and handed it to her in a slight motion.

“Kill this treacherous man!” commanded Meryl with a booming diabolical voice.

Clarice holding the dagger with her right hand moved slowly towards Bravos who was writhing in fury, his voice muffled by the thick cloth tied around his mouth. She stood over Bravos who was completely unrecognizable his white hair stained with blood and filled with bruises.

She raised the dagger slowly above his head and slit his throat with animosity. Blood spluttered all over the ground. Her white gown stained in blood and gore. She dropped the knife that fell with a loud clung. She wiped the blood off her white porcelain like gown, futile in all its effects as it was already dried up and corrugated.

“Today we welcome a new era! The death of man itself and the coronation of our new Red Queen!” yelled Meryl.

What have I done?

Is this the end?

Bravos, my dear Bravos?

There on the ground her shoulders hung low and dropped to her knees staring at her bloodied hand once virgin.