Macduff's Story

So this is a spin off of the play "Macbeth" I hope you like it (: haha it was for my english project :b

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This story begins with the three witches (Willow, Raven and Sireen) conjuring up another spell for one of their next unlucky victim. Who do you think it’ll be? Read on and find out why don’t you.

"Double double toil and trouble. Fire burn and cauldron bubble." The three witches chant simultaneously. The cauldron boils letting off an eerie atmosphere as the fog spills out of the pot.

"Who’s next on the list Raven? I cannot wait to ruin another dear life." Willow says, smiling cruelly.

"Hm, it’s either Macduff or Malcolm. Girls, who do you, think we should trick next?" Raven giggles wickedly.

"Oh I think we should deal with Malcolm. We would have another King to screw up dear Scotland." Sireen suggests making Willow scoff.

"Well, we already dealt with one King; why not give someone else for a try sister?" Willow says smiling evilly.

 Together they cackle hanging their heads back, laughing up at the full moon. Willow stirs the cauldron adding a cow tongue; she dips her fore finger into the cauldron putting it to her lips licking the soup like substance. Her eyebrows furrow in frustration.

            “What is it sister?” Sireen asks looking a little cautious at her sister.

“The spell needs more rattle snake venom. Who was in charge of putting in the venom?” Willow asks shaking her head; she hastily puts a drop more of venom into the pot making the cauldron glow a purple hew.

“Lovely. Don’t you think?” Raven whispers stirring the cauldron slowly. The three witches smile at each other an awful glint in all of their eyes. The spell is perfect. Now they just need one thing; a victim to fall into their putrid hands.

Meanwhile, behind the castle walls Macduff sits, wallowing in his loneliness. The death of his family is surely not what he expected. He hits his glass of wine making it topple off the table with a loud clang as it hits the floor. Holding his face in his hands, Macduff begins to cry.

“I should have brought my family with me.” Macduff says shaking his head at himself. Silent tears falling down his weary face making him wipe them away roughly.

“I am getting them back. They did not deserve to be slaughtered by that tyrant. I will not stand here and wallow when I can just go to the witches and beg them to give me my beloved family back.” He declares. The idea of begging the witches to conjure up a spell to bring his dead family back to him is reckless. Who knows what the witches have in store for him. Although, Macduff is determined; he wants his life back to normal with his family by his side. Is that so much to ask? He thinks to himself, getting up and refilling his cup with wine guzzling the liquid down his throat.

“I miss them.” Macduff whispers sorrowfully. He refills another cup of strong wine sipping slowly.

“Tomorrow,” He declares. “I will go to the witches and beg them to bring my family back.” Macduff slurs getting a bit droopy. He falls down face first on the floor snoring softly, falling into deep slumber.

The next day Macduff goes to the witches hiding place. Crows surround the area making him shiver in distaste. This place is awfully creepy. He thinks. Macduff hears the muffled sound of laughter and follows the unknown.

“Hark! Macduff is on his way here my sisters. We must be prepared for him.” Raven whispers urgently. Together the three witches chant closing their eyes. “Double double toil and trouble. Fire burn and cauldron bubble.” Sireen opens her eyes wide. “He’s here.” She says smiling maliciously.

            As if on cue, Macduff walks in cautiously. What am I getting myself into? He asks himself shaking his head. He stands straighter. I am here for my family, and I want them back. He walks with determined strides towards the three hags.

            “Witches, I have come to ask you to cast a spell to bring my family back. Will you do this for me? Please, I am begging you. I will do anything to have my family back healthy and alive.” Macduff pleas.

            The witches look at each other a vile snicker hisses through their lips as they laugh lightly at him.

            “Poor Macduff, you have been through so much. Your beloved wife and child have been taken away from you and now you want them back? You want our power to return them back from the dead?” Willow asks already knowing his answer as she walks around his frame.

           “Yes.” Macduff replies staring at the witch circling him.

           “And so shall it be done.” Raven declares.

“A word of caution, we can only bring one member back. If you want both your son as well as your wife, a life must be taken away in order for the both of them to come back. You must choose.” Sireen declares.

“Who must die for both of them to live?” Macduff whispers looking down at his feet not willing to look at the horrible witches.

“You.” The Three witches say in unison.

“So shall it be done.” Macduff whispers quietly bowing his head in defeat.

The three sisters look at each other. He is actually willing to risk his life to have his family back. The witches nod to each other.

“So it is done.” The witches repeat. They begin to speak in a different language making Macduff unable to understand a word they utter.

The witches stir the cauldron pouring the mixture into a cup. The wind shifts around Macduff. The witches hand him the cup to drink. The awful liquid slides down his throat. Suddenly, Macduff feels like he’s being suffocated. His hand flies to his throat as he tries to take in oxygen but his throat constricts even further. Macduff hits the floor and blacks out; the magical atmosphere surrounds them. Suddenly the three witches stop speaking in their native tongue.

Macduff awakes and finds his child and wife standing before them with confused terror written on their faces. His child hugs his mother and buries his face into her dress shaking in fright. Macduff begins to stand and walks over to them his arms spread wide as he tries to envelop them into a hug. He reaches his family and his arms pass right through them. Over whelming sadness takes over Macduff and he begins to cry.

“I’m a ghost aren’t I? They cannot feel me or hear me can they?” Macduff asks brokenly to the witches.

“Indeed you are Macduff. You sacrificed yourself for your family.” Willow replies emotionlessly.

He takes one last look at his family, tears streaming down his haggard face.

“Thank you.” Macduff whispers to the witches as his ghost fades letting the wind carry him away leaving his family to live a life in the castle where they belong.