That Witch Bitch

Myrtle's Taylor-Made Hell

The noises of souls yelling to be freed from their punishment and the cries of their pain echoed around your head as you fell deeper into hell.

You had to stop the antichrist from doing whatever he was doing, you knew it wasn't good.

It wasn't sensible that he was allowed down here.

Soon enough, you arrive in a mall full of designer stores.

You immediately realise that this was Myrtle's taylor-made hell.

All of the shops looked completely normal, there were an average amount of people moving in and out of them, however, the clothes that they were selling were ripped and torn, as if they were rubbish.

The only clothes that didn't look like they were from a dump happened to be the ones that were cropped and way too revealing.

Wow, Myrtle's hell was weird.

Really weird.

You glide through the racks of fancy, designer clothes until you find a shop that was closing down.

The sign read 'Balenciaga' but it was being torn down and replaced by another strange shop.

You remembered that Myrtle's favourite brand was Balenciaga.

It was obvious that she liked it a lot if it was being wrecked in her hell.

That was when you knew that Myrtle would be in there.

Besides, it was quite clear she had decided to visit the shop because there were yells of 'no' and 'not the vintage balenciaga black coat' and 'don't burn them' and just a lot of crying coming from an old lady.

"Myrtle?" You yell, shoving past the shop attendants, you weren't even sure that they were people.

Suddenly, a man wearing black pushes you back.

"You don't belong here."

To your surprise, he wasn't Micheal Langdon, he was a bouncer.

You force him back with your mind, making him crash into a table that had several sneakers on display.

You were delayed by a split second but you were determined to get Myrtle before Micheal could.

Who knows what he would've done to her.

You tried your best to follow the sound of the woman's voice but it seemed she had stopped screaming.

Even though her screaming annoyed you, you were annoyed that it would be way harder to find the old bat now.

"Myrtle?" You yell for the second time.

No answer.

Finally, you push back the last rack of sports bras to reveal Myrtle sitting on a stool used for trying on trainers.

She wasn't alone.

The antichrist stood beside her. His blonde hair tucked neatly behind his ear revealing his jawline 'for days' as the countess would've said.

The only thing that shook you was that they were having what seemed like a... normal conversation?

What?

Why didn't he kill her?

Why didn't he kill all of you?

Was he the antichrist?

What was his gain?

Why was he actually doing what Cordelia asked?

Was he good after all?