Making her Joyful Again || RF Julie x FEM reader || L1TTL3_R0TT3N

- 32: Witch of the Crops -

[TW: gore and hallucination but the female rage makes up for it]

Dark. That's the first thing [Name] thought. Everything was dark, almost pitch black, the void only being illuminated by the glowing leaves of a tree. It was tall and wide, its roots winding around the trunk like snakes.

[Name] looked down to find herself, but she saw nothing other than dark. She could not see herself, she couldn't search for a change, yet she still felt every body part. She approached the tree. The leaves that gleamed were falling, but they didn't swirl through the air like normal trees. They fell in a straight line, practically hovering until they fell to the meet the other leaves scattered among the black surface.

With hands she couldn't see, she grazed the trunk. It was like any other tree, its bark rugged and old. [Name] walked around the tree, flinching when she saw a woman sitting down on the ground, holding a leaf in her hands.

She looked like Julianne, the entity that swallowed her, but she had normal skin. It was a deep indigo, straight black hair in spirals around her. She wore thin white clothes, clothes that dated back to ancient times. Her nose was like a doe's, small and black.

She had a stray hair in her face. She didn't move it. She was entirely focused on the leaf in her hand. [Name] sat beside her. "I didn't mean to hurt him." She sniffed. That was when [Name] noticed the tears streaming down her face, glistening in the reflection of the light. "Hurt who?" She asked.

She was trembling when she responded. "Hedres." Her sobs were caught in her throat, barely escaping when they came. "They're going to burn me now...I-I didn't mean to, I would never hurt him...!" She wept into her hands, flowers laying in her lap, their buds removed before they'd even grown.

"They killed my garden...my flowers, oh, my flowers..." She stroked each petal, no matter how wilted or ruined. 

Before she was ready, before she could even blink, she was falling.

Through the endless black, eyes poking out to stare at her, she was embraced as if she were a coal to the flame. She closed her eyes, thinking that maybe if she did, she could hide from all that peered at her. It was as if they'd been waiting for her, waiting to watch her fall, to admire her as she screamed.

But she couldn't do that. She felt like she was drowning like her lungs were being filled with the sobs of the woman at the tree.

And then she fell on solid ground. Upon opening her eyes, she could see the night sky. It was blurry and obviously an illusion, but it remained as she stood. She looked around to find herself in the center of a village.

The houses were made of straw and wood, the townsfolk wearing tunics and robes of white and brown. In the center of the town, a raised platform sat surrounded by people who shouted and cursed a woman's name.

Malea, Malea

On the platform, tied up with thick ropes, was a stake-- And on the stake was the same woman from the tree. Her hair fell in front of her face, hiding her from the cruel stares and whispers of the townsfolk.

[Name] came closer. It was as if she was being held by a chain, dragged closer to the woman who was engulfed in purple-tipped flames. Through the curtain of black hair, she could see her eyes. They looked so tired; having fought an endless war that she was ready to give herself to.

A gust of wind swept through the fake world, whipping against the stake to reveal her face. "You feel that?" She whispered. A smile grew on her face. A chuckle escaped from the back of the woman's throat.

"That's the wind making room for all the hell I'll raise." The smile suddenly disappeared, replaced by a fierce scowl. She opened her mouth and spat out a flower, a storm of colors staining the platform as rainbow flowers began to break from the earth below.

The townspeople all gasped and made room for the thick vines that curled around their feet and ankles, ready to seize each of them. But they still chanted her name, no matter how scared they were. 

'Malea, the witch of the crops'

With a shrill screech that was almost a melody to be heard, more flowers sprouted. They broke through the wood as if it were paper; shooting through the soil like glass to be broken. [Name] had to shield her face to avoid being struck.

I am no bride. I am no sow.

The faint cries came from the flowers, all chanting the words Malea couldn't speak.

I am the darkest part of the universe. I am Hell, I am Purgatory, I am Tartarus.

I am Woman.

Then silence. Among the town, among the quiet whispers that faded into nothing, there was only silence. When she let her arm fall, [Name] could see Malea's face. A flower had sprouted from her mouth, leaving her eyes to be rolled back, forcing her to gaze into her own skull. Ribbons of blood streamed out of her bloodshot eyes.

The silence cracked and crumbled into a shrill series of screams. The townspeople ran through the streets, women reaching for their children and farmers grabbing their livestock. [Name] was still and looked into the horizon. Fields of crops-- wheat, corn, potatoes-- turned to a flood of flowers.

By then, the people had left the edge of the illusion, disappearing from the expanse of this fake world. All that remained was [Name] and Malea. When she turned back to face the stake, however, Malea was gone.

She could feel the coldness of Julianne's palm reach her shoulder. [Name] let in a cold breath, her body suddenly feeling as if it were on the edge of a cliff, waiting to fall. "I know what I am in your mind." Her faint whispers were like ice in her ears. "I know what I am in Julie's. A parasite." She hissed.

"But this isn't about you, [Name]. This isn't your story. This is mine."

Then back into the void, she went, falling into the endless dark to be swallowed whole.

©️ L1TTLE_R0TTEN

[authors note]

I am genuinely sorry for the lack of updates this story has had. I do fear that this and 'The Taste of Her' will be my final works on Wattpad given the lack of interaction the account now has, but I promise that if I do leave Wattpad, it will be with the best stories I can offer.