Agatha Harkness : one shots

Leaving so soon?

October 21st 1863

I should've been more scared, more cautious. But something about the house seemed to call to me. The  Whisper Hill Manor lay at the edge of the forest, overlooking a cliff. The first time I'd come across it was by accident. I was lost in the woods a few weeks ago, on a crisp autumn morning when I'd stumbled upon the estate. From what I could tell it seemed empty, and yet I swore there was someone there, peeking out from behind a curtain at the topmost window. It was just for a second, but my curiosity was peeked. Eventually I found my way home. Only to return the next day, and the day after that. The day I finally decided to go in was dark. I knew any minute it would rain, which actually worked well with my plan, seeing as I could just tell who ever was inside I'd needed shelter. If anyone was inside.
I'd been prepared to crawl threw a window but to my surprised the door was open a crack. It creaked terribly as I pushed it open, and I'd cringed hard. If there was anyone inside they would've surely heard.
As large as the manor appeared form the outside it was even grander inside. Although dark and creepy it was beautiful. With a large spiral staircase, and cobweb assented chandeliers. The windows were draped with purple curtains and the furniture was all shades of black. As I walked in further the floor boards creaked. On the walls I noticed many dust covered paintings, all of similar looking women. I figured whomever had lived there before had a lot of daughters or something. One woman's picture caught my attention particularly. She was stunning, with dark raven hair, and deep blue eyes. Her dress was a dark purple, nearly the shade of the curtains and she wore a slight smile on her lips.
Just then something brushed up against me.
I screeched and jumped back. To my relief it was just a cat. A black one with striking green eyes, but my stomach tightened knowing that it's owner might be somewhere near by.
I decided it had been enough exploring for one day, and made for the door. But when I tugged on the handle it wouldn't open. Thinking it was stuck I pulled harder. But it was to no avail.
"Leaving so soon." A voice that chilled my bones sounded from behind me. I turned, descending from the staircase was a beautiful woman, slightly older but unmistakably the woman from the portrait. The cat slinked over to her and jumped into her arms. She stroked its pitch black fur, not once taking her eyes of me.
"I...I'm so sorry, I'm was just leaving. I thought this place was abandoned, I, I-"
"Oh really?" The woman's voice was judging, like she knew I was lying.
"I could've sworn I'd seen you come by before. Come to think of it, I recall you seeing me to."
I gulped, the woman before me was just as terrifying as she was alluring. Probably a decade older than me and without a doubt some sort of murderer. No woman would live alone in a mansion in the woods if she wasn't. Not in the 1800s.
"I'm sorry, your right I was trespassing but I didn't mean to, I just really liked your house and, I don't know I just, the door was open, so I..."
"Invited yourself in?"
"I'll leave now." The woman surveyed me, a smile playing at her lips.
She descended fully down the stairs, growing closer by the moment. She was taller than me, and I trembled under her gaze.
"Your not going anywhere yet." She said.
"Please don't murder me!" I blurted out, "are you a serial killer?!"
She laughed, well it was more like a cackle.
"Oh no dear. I'm much worse."
With that she flicked her wrist and the doors locked themselves. Purple tendrils curled around her fingers.
"Your a witch!" I shuddered and backed away. I had to get out of there. Making a run for it I tried to break through the doors, only to be pulled back my a force I knew she was making.
"I'm sorry I'm so sorry please don't kill me." I blurted out, having heard about a million stories of witches killing young women for blood sacrifices and whatnot.
"Kill you?" She repeated almost mockingly, "Now why would I do that when there are so many other purposes you could serve."
"Isn't that what witches do?" I whispered, almost to afraid to speak.
"Well I could kill you, but what fun would that be. No...I think I'll keep you. After all, this place is filthy. I could use a maid."
"A maid?" I peeped.
"We'll it seems only fair, seeing as your trespassed on my property and broke into my home. You won't be allowed to leave of course, but, a girl like you. I'm sure you wouldn't mind."
"Excuse me?" Suddenly I felt less afraid and more offended, "What do you mean a girl like me?"
The witch walked slowly over to the fireplace in her main hall, with a flick of her fingers it lit, bright magenta flames.
"Let's see, your young, not a day over 22. Which mean sooner or later you'll be expected to Mary some boring old man, probably twice your age. If I were you, staying here would be like a vacation."
She wasn't wrong. My parents had been bugging me about marriage, but that didn't mean I wanted to become some witches servant.
"Please miss - miss, I don't even know your name?"
"It's Agatha, Agatha Harkness, Dear."
"Miss Harkness I can't, I have a life, I need to leave here."
"We'll it's not really up to you is it?" She said. "And if I wanted, I could make you stay. So come quietly and let's pretend like you have a choice."
"But I'd be a lousy maid," I protested, "honestly, I never do my chores, and I'm terrible at cleaning. You'd be better if without me."
She hummed lowly, "Well, perhaps all you need is a little incentive. Staying alive perhaps."
I paled visibly. Agatha smirked, clearly she was pleased with herself.
"You'll get your own room of course."
She added.
"Oh." She could've just started with that.
"Can I play with your cat?" I asked.
She squinted at me, as if trying to see through me.
"If she doesn't attempt to claw your eyes out sure."
I smiled slightly, "Ok."
Maybe living with a witch wouldn't be so bad after all.