The Making of Witches

Chapter 7

Lore couldn't breathe. She couldn't see. She couldn't think. Panic crashed down on her like a tsunami, flooding everything in its path. Her breaths came in short little bursts, making her more breathless than before. Ox circled her, cracking his knuckles as she continued to back away. A dagger was strapped to his belt but it looked wrong on him. His muscles were so large and his fists so scarred and ready to punch that a blade looked silly on him. He was a man born to fight with his hands.

Calm, Lore. Fight with a single purpose. The ethereal voice whispered in her mind and Lore started, almost having forgotten its presence. Calm? Fight with a single purpose? Impossible! Her mind was too jumbled and scattered to think of anything except don't die. Ox thumped towards her, his footsteps shaking the floors. His arm swung forward and Lore was too slow to do anything but push her bound hands in front of her as he punched her in the stomach.

She screamed as the crowd whooped and cheered, pain exploding through her back as she hit the floor with a resounding SMACK! Her stomach was on fire as she frantically scrambled out of the way. Once again, she was too slow, and another punch landed on her mouth. Another scream was ripped from her throat as Ox chuckled and Lore felt blood trickle from the corners of her mouth. She couldn't think of anything except don't die, don't die, don't die, don't die... The ethereal voice called out again, as calm and controlled as always. There is your purpose, Lore.

Lore rolled her eyes amidst the pain and she got the vague sense that Ox was now on top of her, beating her to death with his mighty fists. What purpose? Don't die? The ethereal voice seemed to smile as it reached out a hand to touch her bloodied face. Of course. And before Lore could get anything else, the strange spirit departed and Lore returned to the real world, waves of pain pulsing throughout her body.

She managed to turn her head as another punch landed, seeing a strange look upon the Captain's face. It looked like disappointment. Fury shot up within Lore's body as the chaos in her mind dissipated. All she heard was one sentence.

I am not dying here.

Lore screamed as she lifted her bloodied, bound hands, using all her strength to hook them around Ox's neck. She crossed her hands in opposite directions and pulled.

She pulled with all the rage she could muster, all the fight in her body, all the fire in her veins. She tugged and tugged despite the blood coating her body, despite the pain stabbing her everywhere, despite the gasps and laughs and cheers from all around that were fighting against her.

She pulled and pulled and pulled until Ox began to choke.

He started to wheeze and his fists clenched and unclenched as Lore tugged, the rope cutting and chafing her skin brutally. Blood was everywhere- encircling her wrists, running down her limbs, dripping from her mouth, obscuring her vision. The rope strained and cut into her deeply but the knot never broke and for once, Lore was thankful for how tightly Keelin had bound her. The crowd's whoops and cheers began to change from excitement to surprise, from laughter to gasps of shock. Ox's strength began to fail him as he grappled at the rope around his neck, his face turning red. Lore rolled them over - still pulling, always pulling - until she was atop him and she was fighting with every breath to maintain her strength. Her knees pressed into his chest as she watched his hands drop from his neck, giving into the rope. Her face lit up with excitement as she realised that his end was coming and soon it would be over. And her gut twisted in mild horror at the fact that she was relishing this man's death. She wanted it to come.

Ox's face began to turn blue as sweat dripped down Lore's body, her arms trembling with exhaustion. And as Lore finally began to relax, finally saw death shining in Ox's face, he smiled. It was then that her eyes widened in surprise as she realised her terrible misjudgement. Ox's hands hadn't dropped because he ran out of energy. They had dropped to reach for the dagger hanging from his belt that was now swinging towards her face.

Lore screamed, drawing back as her arms went slack and the knife slashed across her ribcage. An inch forward and it would have pierced her chest. Ox leapt up, tossing Lore to the side as he wheezed, struggling to regain his breath. Lore hit the ground yelling, all the air whooshing from her lungs. The panic threatened to take over again but her mantra repeated again, grounding her.

I am not dying here.

Lore wiped her brow to prevent more blood from spilling into her eye. And that was when she realised it. Ox's knife hadn't just cut her chest. It had cut the ropes.

Shaking, Lore held up her hands, staring at them in wonder. She looked to the other side of the circle where Ox was hunched over, breathing in and out deeply. She surveyed the silent crowd, who was staring at the pair in disbelief. She stared at Swift, who sat atop her throne with a small smile on her face, toying with a ring. Lore had her fire now. She just needed to end this.

Lore bit back a scream as she dragged herself to her feet, wincing as a sharp pain cut through her leg and her ribs. Her head pounded and she stumbled, righting herself before she could tumble down again. Ox had also picked himself up, holding the knife firmly in his hand.

"Whatcha gonna do now, little demon? No more rope tricks to hide behind." His voice was gruff as he took a lazy step towards her. Lore's wide grin halted him as she raised her hands, drawing on her power. Her eyes shone as she spoke, licking blood from her lips.

"What am I going to do?" Something deadly danced in her eyes. "This."

And Ox screamed as she set the circle on fire.

Screams and yells erupted from all around as people jumped back, drawing weapons. Even the captain sat up straight on her throne. Lore let the flames dance around the border of the fighting circle and come no further. Something animal and wild had taken over her brain as she stared down at the man who had nearly killed her who was now screaming his head off, looking for a way out.

"This demonic enough for you? Or should I turn it up a notch?" Lore let the fire speak from her hands to her whole body, the flames licking up her down her body but never burning her. She limped toward him and all it took was a passing thought for a much tighter ring of fire to encircle him. His screams turned to whimpers and Lore drew nearer, her hands drawing the pentagram in the air. "It's you or me, Ox." She spat his name and the flames grew taller. "And I pick me." She blew the symbol through the air and watched it carve itself into his chest. He didn't have time to scream before he went up in flames.

She stood still as she watched him burn, the flames eating him up so quickly it was only a few minutes before he was a smoking pile of ash. And Lore felt no remorse in her heart as she spun around to face the captain, smiling like the devil, as she spoke, the flames still covering her entire body.

"I would call that a win, Captain. What about you?"