You frowned when you got to the town. Maybe you were in the wrong direction, maybe you had turned wrong in some exit. You checked the address again, making sure it matched the writing on your forearm.
Like everyone, you knew soulmates existed. And finding them wasn't that difficult, not when you could write something anywhere on your body and it would reflect on the skin of your soulmate, wherever they were. Everyone around you had their bodies covered in ink, communicating with theirs.
But you didn't.
You had tried to communicate with your other half, many times, writing down simple questions, like their favorite food, their favorite color, their name. But nothing. You never got an answer.
You also didn't get a message from them. It was like they were ignoring you on purpose. So you had stopped trying.
Until one day, while you were taking a bath, you saw it. It was a simple line, scrawled in the cleanest and most beautiful calligraphy you had ever seen, but it seemed to have been written in a hurry. Three words that stopped your heart.
Westview. Agnes. Help.
You spent that entire afternoon trying to find everything you could about Westview, which was difficult because it seemed like they didn't want anyone to find the place. Still, you managed to find a page with the address and the next morning you were on your way.
When you arrived in what appeared to be a ghost town, you couldn't help feeling uneasy. If your soulmate was here and in trouble, you really had to act fast.
"You better be cute, Agnes" you murmured, walking into town.
____________________
Agatha gasped, desperately searching the house for a pen. She didn't care about the mess she caused, Agnes would clean it up tomorrow, she had to hurry. She knew she had little time.
She had managed to break Wanda's spell temporarily, but she was barely able to get out of her bedroom before she felt Agnes regain control of her. She had to ask for help before she lost herself again in her own mind.
When she was younger, even before her trial in Salem, Agatha had heard of soul mates. She had tried to search for hers, but she had never gotten an answer. She spent years thinking about that, that the supposed other half did not want to know anything about her, that it would have been easier to face everything if she had someone by her side. It took her a while to realize that perhaps her soulmate hadn't even been born yet.
By the time the messages began to appear, Agatha had already resigned herself to being alone for the rest of her long existence and she didn't know how to react to the fact that, indeed, you were finally in this world. And you were looking for her.
She ignored you, out of fear and confusion. She didn't know you, but she cared about you. And she didn't want to drag you into her chaotic world of black magic. It was a different feeling for her, caring for someone other than herself, but soulmates belonged to each other, and Agatha was a woman who took care of her belongings.
But now, she needed you.
When Wanda caught it in her mind, Agatha could feel a part of her fade away. The part of her that controlled magic. Therefore, you were the only hope for her. You were her other half, after all. Hopefully, you could break Wanda's spell, even if you weren't a witch, even if you were a mortal, the part of Agatha that lived in you would be enough.
She just hoped that, unlike her, you wouldn't ignore her.
____________
It took you only a few minutes to find Agnes's house. After all, it was the only one who seemed to be inhabited. It seemed strange to you that the woman lived alone in an abandoned town.
"Please don't let her be a serial killer" you thought as you approached the door.
You knocked on the door and only a few seconds later you heard footsteps. You gasped when a woman opened you up, with a huge smile and the cutest face you've ever seen.
But it was her eyes that caught your attention. Not necessarily the brilliant blue that adorned them (although that was beautiful too), but the pain that glowed in them. The woman was smiling, but her eyes were telling you a completely different story.
"Agnes?" you asked carefully
"It's me" she nodded "Can I help you, hot stuff?" she winked at you, making you blush.
"Uhm ... I'm Y/N" you introduced yourself "And you ... I think you called me."
___________________________________
You woke up when you felt an itch on your arm. It took you a second to remember where you were.
Westview. Agnes. Help.
You had been in Westview for a week. With Agnes, for a week. The woman had looked at you in confusion, but when you showed her your forearm, she had smiled at you, saying that she didn't know what it meant, but that you could stay with her until you found out.
It had seemed strange to you that she didn't remember asking for your help. Maybe you got the wrong Agnes. Maybe this wasn't your Agnes.
You confirmed your suspicions yesterday when you drew a small heart on your wrist, and it had not appeared on hers. You had gone to sleep early, with a broken heart and the decision to leave in the morning.
However, your arm was adorned with new words.
Basement. Books. Red. 35. Agatha.
You frowned. Well, you were already here. You left the guest room and went down the stairs in silence, trying not to wake Agnes. It took you a while to find the basement door, but you did.
You gasped a little when you came down the stairs. The walls were made of rock and there were strange black vines all over the place. Creepy, but beautiful at the same time.
Okay. Basement ready. Now the books.
You walked to a bookcase, opening it carefully. You coughed a little at the dust and quickly scanned the spines. They all seemed to be taken from some fantasy tale. There were some potions, others of enchantments, rituals, etc.
"Oh my god" you whispered, feeling the excitement rise in your chest.
Books, check.
Red.
You quickly took the one with the red binding and you would have it on page 35. (another check). You ran your eyes over the page a few times before shrugging.
"It doesn't seem hardt" you said to yourself.
It took you a while to find what you needed, but you were soon at work in front of an old cauldron. For some reason, it felt like second nature to you.
__________
You tiptoed into Agnes's room, holding the small vial protectively against your chest. The instructions were clear, but that didn't mean you weren't nervous.
Carefully, you sat on the edge of the bed, watching the woman sleep for a moment. She was beautiful.
You sighed before bringing your hand to her face, caressing her cheek. With the other hand, you prepared the jar. Agnes woke up when you nibbled lightly on her chin.
"Honey, what are you-"
You didn't give her time to finish the sentence. You took advantage of that moment to empty the contents of the jar into her mouth, causing her to choke and sit up suddenly, coughing.
You jumped up and looked at her as she tried to compose herself. You prayed that it worked, because if it didn't, you'd be in serious trouble.
"Agnes?" you whispered, approaching her carefully when she froze.
The woman didn't answer, but she raised her face to look at you. You gasped at the intensity of her gaze, which was no longer filled with pain, but with relief and gratitude. The woman smiled at you and held her wrist up for you to see. There was a little heart in it.
Agatha. Checked.
