Howl's Twisted Castle

4: Skin Deep

Draped across a chaise lounge with her legs drawn out over the white leather, I could almost imagine an artist setting up an easel on the opposite end of the room to paint her portrait. She wore a black lace face covering to disguise her features; a black gown hugged her tiny frame in all the wrong places with thousands of sequins glittering every time she shifted her body. Her long spider-like fingers balanced a cigarette that she pressed to her lips periodically and pulled until the ashes tumbled onto the floor. A polished ebony cane was left propped against the armrest, adorned with an immense blood red ruby.

Her eyes appraised every inch of me, and her expression told me she didn't like what she saw. She took another long drag of her cigarette and put it out on the white leather armrest. Pulling herself up to a seated position, she wrapped a minx shawl over her bony shoulders and walked over to get a better look at me.

The air around me was foul and felt heavy in my chest. I was finding it difficult to breathe let alone speak. Who was this woman? Looking now with her so close, I could see her pallor had a bluish tinge to it, dotted with sunspots and spider veins. Something told me this woman had lived a very long life.

She reached for my hand and held it in hers. The chilled feeling of her fingers reminded me of the carrots I had taken out of the fridge to cut up this morning. She examined my hand front to back, tracing circles across the surface of my skin periodically. The woman eyed me with disgust and released me abruptly. I let my hand fall back to my side quietly. I took this as the opportune time to figure out what exactly was going on here.

"Excuse me, ma'am? Why am I here?" The way her eyes continued to assess me, I had a feeling this visit was more about me and less about hats.

"What is it that you have?" she asked, more to herself than to me.

I fidgeted with the fabric tape in my pocket and showed it to her. "Well, I can take measurements so we can get started making your hat," I suggested. So I can get out of here, I thought.

She waved me off with her hand. "No, no I said nothing about a hat."

I pulled the address out of my pocket and read it out loud just to confirm it, "this is 39 Rosewood Lane. . . isn't it?" I asked.

"Yes it is," she lit up another cigarette and pushed it between her lips, staining the filter with lipstick.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I'm here about a custom hat. If you're not looking for one then I'll be--," I pointed at the door and made to turn and leave.

"It's witch of the waste," she corrected me.

A sick feeling washed over me. Where had I heard that name before?

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" I hoped I had misheard her.

"I am the witch of the waste, not ma'am. You have heard of me, haven't you?" her red lips curled over her stained teeth and into a wicked smile.

I had heard of her. It was back at the shop when the other women were gossiping about Howl. But that would mean that, 

"You and Howl have a long-standing feud," I said out loud. I clasped my hand over my mouth, surprised I had mentioned it.

She tossed the now used butt into a corner and blew the smoke in my face, looking smug. She flicked her hand, and I heard a click behind me.

She had locked the door.

She wasn't going to let me go.

I had to stall her while I thought up a plan. Scanning the room, I noticed a rather large and possibly heavy metal lamp slightly behind me.

"What could you possibly want with me? I don't even know the man." I slowly inched my way over to it.

She threw back her head and cackled. "Ha! I find that very hard to believe considering he's been in your store every day for the past month."

A month? But that's not even possible. Indeed, I would have noticed him long before then. How could a man, who stands out as much as Howl does, blend in so well that I didn't see him?

"He couldn't possibly have been in the store before today," I sputtered, "and what would it matter anyway? I only spoke to him twice today and not for very long."

The witch of the waste turned and walked back to her chaise lounge, seating herself comfortably once again. She grabbed a handbag from beside her and rummaged around until she produced a tiny pink vial. Satisfied with her selection, she tossed the satchel over the couch. "That may be true, but there's one thing you have that I need." She uncorked the vial and smiled up at me.

I let my hands grip the lamp carefully behind my back. "Whatever it is I don't have it okay? So you're going to let me go," I said with more confidence than I knew I had.

"Oh but you will because you see, you won't have a choice in the matter." She let out a raspy cackle, holding the bottle up to prove her point.

My hands gripped the lamp tighter, waiting for an opening. 

"What makes you think I'll be of any use to you?"

She tapped one of her bony fingers to her lips with a secretive smile. "Well you see my dear, the one thing you have that I don't is Howl's trust. He doesn't let people touch him, and he certainly doesn't touch other people and yet--," she aimed her bony finger at me, "he's touched you. I wonder why that is?"

Panic welled up inside my chest until I was a ball of nervous energy.

With more bravado than I've ever had, I swung the lamp at her. It connected with her head with a sickening crunch, and she collapsed like a rag doll on the floor. I tossed the weapon aside and made for the door, fidgeting with the lock in a desperate attempt to open it before it was too late, my hands shaking so much I couldn't get a grasp on the bolt. Quick footsteps sounded behind me followed by the searing pain of something connecting with the side of my head. A hot gush of something oozed down the back of my neck, staining the front of my dress.

I fell to my knees with a thump and hit my head on the door. I could hear her cursing behind me as she discarded the lamp. As she closed in on me, a weird sensation washed over my body. Kneeling down beside me, she gripped the back of my neck.

"That hurt," she growled, pulling me back until I was flat on the floor.

I couldn't move. Why couldn't I move?

"Please don't," I begged her. This was it. This was how it was all going to end.

"Oh, I'm not going to kill you." She dug one if her sharp nails into my collar bone and grinned. "However I am going to curse you and the beautiful part about it? You won't be able to tell anyone about it dear. Youth and beauty? Gone, Sophie, all gone. If you want it back, you're going to bring me what I want."

Black dots began to creep their way across my vision and my body felt heavy.

"What do you--," I tried to form the words on my deadened lips.

She leaned in close and whispered, "what I want. . . my dear Sophie is Howls heart."

I stared blankly at the ceiling, but I could see nothing but blackness all around me. A question remained on my lips as the darkness took over.

A heart?

Why would she want that?