Crimson & Clover {OC x GUTS} Berserk

8. Witch Hunt

She woke to the flutter of leaves across her face and instantly felt the burn on her forearm, the smell of iron began flooding her sense of smell. There was no chance to call last night a dream. The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was not the salt circle, nor the strange symbol burned into her flesh; the first thing she saw was the blood stained wooden planks where Lady Paloma stood against the...

The what, exactly?

Heartbreak set in. This was all her fault. Had Marcella never encouraged Lady Paloma, none of this would have happened. She didn't remember what had happened right before she passed out and hoped that it was all some cruel joke. But she knew it wasn't. Lady Paloma was gone.

The leaves fluttered against her, forcefully pushing against her hips. They weren't just ordinary leaves; they were the embodiment of the wind golems Lady Paloma had created to warn against intruders.

Leaves swirled through the air and wrapped around hers, tugging at her weight, pleading for her to get to her feet.

They're coming.

You need to leave.

And then she heard the vicious voices, their words cutting through the air, "Die, witch!"

That is what helped her rise to her feet. She couldn't help Lady Paloma, but she would let others degrade her honor.

The wind golems, sensing Marcella was not leaving, began to gather her bag and force her towards the back door. She was weak and stood no chance against their insistence.

Marcella glanced behind her, looking out the window and seeing the mob of villagers charging towards the cottage. Her heart broke, not only was her mentor gone but her home was going to be destroyed. The living room was already stained with blood and the dark energy left over from the portal.

"Wait! Wait," she pleaded with the golems. "I need to gather things."

Marcella began to stuff her bag, throwing her own clothes out and making more room for herb jars and tools that Lady Paloma had collected over her past eighty years.

Just as Marcella was about to run out of the back door, the front door opened. She hardly recognized the villagers, their faces coated with hate and rage as they tore through the once peaceful cottage.

Most of the protection charms that had been placed at the windows and doors were broken. Whatever evil had been here last night was to blame.

"Where's the ol' hag?" a man with one tooth spat at Marcella.

A young woman and her father lunged for Marcella, "You're a witch too!"

"Let's hang 'em both!"

Marcella dodged their grasps, thanks to the golem who swept her up, not helping her disprove any witch accusations. And just as they made it out of the frame of the door way, passing by a bookshelf, Marcella reached out to take Lady Paloma's grimoire. She almost dropped the precious book until another golem swooped in and saved it.

Through the back of the cottage lay the woods that would eventually lead to the road where Marcella had been mugged one year ago.

Marcella filled with hate. It was a hatred for herself. A hate for not being able to defend or avenge Lady Paloma. A hate for fleeing. Fleeing yet again. Always fleeing.

~~~

The golems carried her as far and as fast as they could. Their enchantment would only allow them to travel so far away from the cottage and they had reached their limit.

The golems lovingly wrapped themselves around Marcella in a swirl of warmth.

"No, no, no, don't leave!"

Her cries filled the air as the golems faded. Their enchantment finally expired.

She didn't have time to cry or feel any grief. The villagers could be heard trampling through the forest, thrashing their way through the leaves to catch the witch.

Marcella threw her bag over her shoulders and ran. She made her way to the road and ran straight into the forest on the other side. The road terrified her and she was hoping that with night fall the forest would scare the villagers.

She stopped when she could no longer see her own hand in front of her as the new moon brought a lonely darkness.

Though she was exhausted, Marcella's vision filled with red. Rage. What had just transpired over the past few hours were too much for her head to process.

Guts. She needed to find him, if he was even still alive. She didn't have the slightest clue as to where she should start looking. Wherever he was last night, it didn't look like Midland. It didn't look like this earth at all.

~~~

She knew this forest. Lady Paloma had made her learn every inch of it. It was home to the ancient, natural world and never had she seen such evil lurk within until now.

Glowing red, green, and yellow eyes blinked at her. Heavy breathing and that iron and stagnant stench stained the once pure air.

Marcella reached for her bag, she knew she had something in here to help. She began to fumble around, feeling the jars and the titles engraved on them. It was too dark to see what she was reaching for. She didn't have anything to mix a spell in.

The creatures were closing in on her.

Sacrifice...

Sacrifice...

Sacrifice...

They drooled over the word, inching closer and closer.

Her arm stung, it felt as if she were being branded all over again. She looked up, as if to plea to the universe to let her end be quick, and saw a shimmering light.

An elf.

Marcella turned and ran, further west lay an abandoned elf cave. Lady Paloma never spoke much about elves but she did say the cave was like a safe haven. Marcella had laughed at the time. The cottage was enchanted and had a powerful witch to defend it, what else could be safer?