Manea Mortifer

WIP from October

Manea Mortifer was not someone who liked being interrupted. But yet, just as she was about to settle down for the night, she heard a knock at her door. When she placed an eye to the peephole and saw the unassuming figure of Imogen Ray, her rage only increased in its severity. She calmly opened the door, trying her best to mask her frustration "Hello! You've reached the home of Manea Mortifer, how may I help you?" Manea drawled, her voice dripping with syrupy sweet sarcasm.

Imogen reached into her tattered cloak, which she wore with far too much pride, and pulled out her spell book. I bet I can guess where this is going Manea thought to herself, "I know what you're going to say and the answer is no."

"I have yet to speak a word, and yet you are already disagreeing with me"

"Fine, Prove me wrong what do you want from me"

"I want you to write your sigil into my spell book so it can regain its abilities" "Ever since I lost my powering key my own sigil has not worked, and I am getting desperate." Imogen looked at Manea with a forlorn expression, only to receive a cold blank stare in return.

"My answer is still absolutely not. Whoever deemed you worthy of becoming a sorceress was out of her mind and it is only right that you have lost your means of spell casting. You are incompetent and a failure and I will not contribute to the desecration of the sacred craft of sorcery, you have done enough of that on your own."

Imogen opened her mouth to argue when Manea tore the battered spell book from its owner's hands and brought it down on Imogen's skull with a sickening crack. Blood began to slowly ooze from her head and before she could register what had just happened, Imogen collapsed to the ground with a loud thump. Her body was twisted in an unholy heap of limbs and blood. "You shouldn't have pushed me Imogen, you silly little girl"

Manea left what used to Imogen on her porch and tossed her mark onto her, a single black rose. Humming a joyful tune to herself, Manea went back inside and made herself a nice glass of wine. Manea was not a drinker by any means but felt the occasion called for celebration. Imogen's body would serve as a warning to anyone else who dared bother her late at night, 'and make a nice lawn decoration' she giggled at the idea of Imogen's rotting corpse being complimented by neighbours as a stellar addition to her immaculate yard.

She sat on her couch and continued to take delicate sips of the ruby coloured wine. She opened Imogen's book and let out a cackle that would put any seasoned witch to shame. Imogen had brought her diary instead of her spellbook, so even if Manea had been feeling so generous as to reactivate the book, nothing would have happened. "A blithering idiot till the very end I see" Manea snickered as she idly flipped through the pages of the diary.