Exquisite Poison (Original Draft)

Chapter 91 - So Shall the Tortured Become the Executioner

Taking a few steps away from the fireplace, he looked at the shaking, frightened and confused Witches before he turned his gaze down to the Alpha. "How dare you raise your hand to her? As the young miss was telling you before," and with these words he smiled broadly, revealing once more his teeth, jagged as parallel rows of upward-pointing knives. "for your crimes, which also include the torture of the Magics that you call your own Familiars, trapping them and draining them of life force, you are sentenced to death."

The Alpha moaned wordlessly on the ground, in obvious and terrible pain. It was another one of the Witches who cried out, "A Monster cannot kill a Witch!"

Ashwood turned his attention on the Witch in question, whose words were muffled as her head was pressed into the ground by a manic Jaste, whose eight eyes blinked rapidly. His bottom jaw had dropped open, allowing him to drool onto the Witch that he pinned to her chest on the ground.

"Very perceptive. I cannot kill you." He leered at her. "That certainly does not stop me from torturing you. Without the aid of your Magic, which has abandoned you, I do believe that I am free to do what I please, short of killing you -"

The sound of someone walking down the stairs stopped Ashwood as he turned and looked up.

All eyes were on the woman who descended from the upper floor. Dressed in dark jeans, a black peasant blouse and with her hair in a bun, she looked as though she was going down the stairs for a hot chocolate or to greet guests. The only thing that gave away her purpose were the glittering - inhuman - red eyes set in the pale gold of her skin.

Passing the Selkie at the top of the stairs, who gave a grateful look to her as she passed, the woman looked resolutely in front of her. As she came to the foot of the stairs, the room had gone utterly silent.

As one, the Monsters in the room cried out. She acknowledged them with eyes that glowed with a Monster's life force, then raised her arm, the magic dancing along her skin like the tendrils of a fire.

In a voice that held a softness that should not have made the Witches shake with such fear, she said, "None shall be subjected to torture here. They will be swiftly punished for their crimes, beginning with the ones who are the least culpable for what they've done and ending with the Matriarch. March them outside." She paused, turning to look at her apprentice. "You were not hurt, acting as bait, were you?"

Ophelia shook her head as a smile spread on her face, an oddly innocent thing. "No. Ash stopped the one currently writhing on the ground from hitting me."

The backyard for the Bed and Breakfast overlooked a cliff, and in it the blizzard that thrashed angrily seemed unable to touch it. The snow seemed to hit an invisible force and the wind was non-existent.

One by one Monsters pushed Witches outdoors, with Ashwood carrying the hysterical Alpha.

They were put into a line before the Witch. She looked up and, closing her eyes, she flicked her hands out. As she did, the Witches saw as the nails on her uncovered hands transformed, becoming long, thick, pointed. In a sigh, she addressed the Witches gathered on their knees:

"Your deaths are necessary, for me to continue in this manner. You stand here, however, only after I gave you the chance to do the right thing. If you had, then you would have found Ophelia gone tomorrow morning, would have forgotten about it in time. No one needs to know of my existence, unless they do great wrong. I do not wish to kill," she stared for a moment at her elongated, dark claws before she continued. "but I will, to stop your madness."