The Wicked Witch of the West | Bigby Wolf Love Story

The Door

The grass in Central Park is a lush green, and at this time of day, with the sun setting, it's relatively quiet. Bigby and I stand before one of the many bodies of water in the long stretch of land. The surface ripples as the wind caresses it.

"Why are we here, Y/n?" Bigby asks.

I look over my shoulder to speak to him. "It was the closest body of water I could think of. And as the name suggests, it's central to a lot of places. It'll take us a lot less time to leave here and get to wherever the Crooked Man's door might be."

"But why the need for water?"

"It's like using the magic mirror." I gesture towards his pocket where the magical shard still lays. "It's called scrying. No rhyming required though." I squat down and hover my finger just over the surface of the water. It stills and becomes like a plane of glass.

I take a deep breath and picture the Crooked Man's symbol in my head. The torture wheel with a person tangled in it, burned into whichever door he chooses. Then a plain wooden door appears in the still water with the exact symbol on it. There's some sort of blue wallpaper around it, but there's nothing that makes it particularly distinguishable. "Well, that's unhelpful." Bigby grunts in agreement.

The symbol fizzles away and then the door changes to an old metal one. What looks like a missing persons poster is taped to the brick wall on the left. A metal sign reading, "Dept. of Gen. Services Central Park Conservancy" sits on the right. The sign makes my stomach twist unhappily.

"How nice of him to bring his door to us," Bigby says.

"Yeah. Nice." I stand up and the rippling resumes, making the image difficult to see before it disappears completely from our view. I turn to Bigby, trying not to let my nerves show through as I do. "Ready?"

"Course I'm ready. I got no other choice."

~~~

By the time we find the right door, hidden under the Gothic Bridge, the sun has fully set. A chill hangs in the air as we step under the white bridge. The door we're looking for sits on the left side, surrounded by graffiti.

Bigby grits his teeth as he steps up to the door and grasps the handle. With a harsh yank the door flies open with a whine. A blinding, swirling blue portal swallows the door and my stomach drops. Nothing can be seen through the haze of magic, leaving no idea of what's on the other side.

I grab the wolf's hand as I start to tremble. He squeezes it. Bigby takes a deep breath and curls his free hand into a fist. He pulls me right behind him and we both step into the portal.

My vision fills with blue and my entire body tingles as magic washes over it. The feeling of gravity moving and flipping makes my stomach twist, but all of this only happens for a moment.

Quickly, the bright blue light clears, and gray stone replaces it. The sound of sizzling from behind us makes me jump and press myself into Bigby's back. I can only really see it out of the corner of my eye, but the Crooked Man's symbol which was burned on the wall, fades away and takes our escape with it.

A shaky breath gets released from my tightening airway as I turn back to the hall stretched out horizontally ahead of us. Wherever it is that the Crooked Man resides, it looks like an old castle, complete with metal fixtures on the walls that hold lit candles. It almost feels like something from the Homelands, save for the stench of desperation that leaks from the stone walls.

Bigby suddenly pushes me against the wall to our right. For a moment he presses his body against mine, acting as a shield, before moving to stand between me and the hall. His head lowers and his hands curl into fists, ready to strike.