The Witch of Algan Bog

The Firstborn

The first creatures I created were simple. Resurrected rats and frogs, rabbits and ducks. Experiments more than anything. I even tried to bring back a few insects, watching them fly with broken wings that should have no longer carried them in the air. 

They all came back, provided there was enough of the initial corpse left to bring back. They could be reinforced with wood and metal and they would take to it, but the majority of the specimen had to be of living stuff. 

The second was that the blood of Lori had to flow through it. It did not always have to flow through a dead heart into dried veins. I could bring back a mere skeleton but injecting some of it into the marrow. It would always multiply over time as long as it was in contact with the dead form. 

When I knew these two rules, I could begin to experiment with new forms and creatures. A chimera with the head of a wolf and the body of a deer... a creature of bone with reinforced tendons of wood that walked on two legs. I had many guardians and servants to protect me, hunt for me, keep my home safe. I could focus almost solely on my experiments.

But there was something I couldn't figure out. Lori felt much like how she did in life. A loyal and faithful dog. I could still feel the love in her gaze, even through her empty eyesockets. But the rest felt almost more like puppets. They would follow my commands without question and to the letter. Almost too well... They weren't truly alive in the way Lori was. I could not bring back my parents in such a state.

I once told a fox I had brought back and named Freddy to bring to find me some eggs. And Freddy decided the best thing to do was to steal them from one of the chicken coops in the village. He came back, covered in feathers and blood with four eggs in his mouth and an arrow sticking out of his back. This was one of the first times the villagers had contact with my pets. But it would not be the last. 

The experience taught me that I had to be very careful with the commands I gave my pets. For the most part, I tried to give them all a single, repetititive task. There were those whose whole existence was sweeping dust, clearing out leaves, tending to the little garden behind my hut. These were easy. I had to only also command them to make sure they stopped when I picked them up to clean or fix them. 

The trickier ones were those who I built for hunting or building or guarding my home. I had to make sure I gave them very specific instructions so they would not draw too much attention to my home and so they knew who was a threat and who wasn't. I lost one guardian when he went chasing after a very frightened squirrel. He never came back and I never learned what became of him.

One even became violent and started attacking my other pets. Lori managed to take him down. And it was then I learned how to destroy my pets. Lori tore him apart, enough so that the blood within was completely drained and there was nothing keeping the poor guardian animated anymore.

I am not proud of it, but I had to do a few tests to make sure I knew the weaknesses of my pets. I reanimated a few flies to see if I could destroy them. Cutting their heads off did not always kill them, only if the wounds were great enough to drain them of enough of Lori's blood. The easiest way to destroy them fully was with fire.

One night, I had what I thought was an inspired idea. The aftermath of which still haunts me to this day, in a very literal sense... My pets were made of flesh and bone, but from the start I had strengthened them with wood, straw, stone and what few scraps of metal I had managed to scavenge from the smith's home all those years ago. I figured... perhaps I could animate a fully new being. 

I created an effigy of straw, a doll shaped like a person. I let Lori's blood trickle through its tubes, to a small wooden heart in its chest. But it did not move. I watched blood seep into and discolor the straw, but nothing happened. I sighed in defeat. The blood needed the remains of a living animal to come back. I went to bed, a simple frame I had built with straw and fur and closed my eyes.

I woke up to screaming a few hours later. A painful scream, like the torture of a thousand souls calling out in a single voice, emanating from the doll. I acted on pure instinct, grabbing the doll to throw it in the fire, but as I touched it, my palm was burnt. Still I managed to toss it into the fire. 

But the screaming did not stop. 

I watched the fire turn crimson and violent, flashing across the room. My entire hut turned the color of blood. A face formed in the fire, angry, in pain... 

The screaming did not stop.

The fire shot up, out of the chimney. Nothing remained of the doll. My hut was dark. I ran outside and saw the puff of flame still floating in the air. Still screaming. It flew off in the distance, illuminating the forest with its crimson flame as it flew. 

The screaming never stopped. 

It was only until it was far away that the silence of the swamp filled my hut again.