The Aftermath

Chapter 2

     Paralyzed with fear, I felt every limb in my body freeze at the sound of her voice. Ice inched its way up my spine, caressing my organs in its chilling wake.

     Magnesia.

     That was her name.

     The witch was, otherwise known as, Piper. I gave Magnesia this annotation because of how she lulled those who were unfortunate enough to hear her voice into terrifying paralysis, resulting in mindless, numbed puppets that followed her every word as if each syllable were a command from the highest power itself. However, I never intended for the witch to use this power for her own benefit. Instead, Magnesia put her enchanting voice to another, far more psychotic use: torture.

     At her simple command, victims would throw themselves off high ledges, fall on their own swords, even brutally murder loved ones. The sorceress used her voice like one would use a voodoo doll, creating submissive puppets out of anyone that wronged her, or at times, simply crossed her path.

     Alarm caused me to snap back to reality, and I careened forward, slightly lopsided from my numbing daze. The witch's voice floated through the trees, filling my ears with its sweetly melodic tune. "You don't fear me, do you Solstice?" she sang, causing goosebumps to tickle my arms. 

     She knew my name! I never included myself among the characters in this story, so how was recognition even possible? Desperate to escape, I thrust my legs forward with more velocity than before so that I was practically flying across the forest floor.

     Magnesia called my name once more, her silky voice muddling my thoughts until I couldn't help but cease running and meet my ghastly pursuer face-to-face. With a start, I realized that she had only been a few paces behind me the entire time. Yet her voice sounded so distant, like it was coming through a long, narrow tunnel.

     The witch's eyes narrowed as she took in the defiant, yet painfully fear-stricken girl standing before her, and sighed in mock pity. "Why so wary, dear? I haven't even guaranteed that I'll kill you!" Magnesia scoffed with disdain.

     Her voice carried with it a strange calamity; eerie, yet sickeningly soothing. Each syllable spoken by the witch brought with it the feeling registered when one has finally accepted a grim fate, or perhaps even death itself. The woman's skin was a deep, ashen grey, like that of a stale corpse. And her hair fell in long sheets, void of any color, giving an illusion of transparency.

     But the most captivating features of the sorceress were her eccentric, yet enchanting eyes, that were said to paralyze onlookers instantly. One, colorless as water, and the other a desolate black, pitch as the woman's soul itself.

     Magnesia might have even been described as striking, perhaps beautiful, if it were not for the malice and pure venom that etched every delicate feature on her face.

     And, just as I had described, the witch's eyes caught me in a trance when I perceived their odd beauty. How stupid I was, to allow myself entrancement by the sorceress.

    But, nonetheless, I couldn't help feeling a slight burst of pride. Magnesia looked and sounded exactly how I had imagined her to be, from how the ends of her thin lips curled into a wry smile when she felt satisfied that there was nowhere I could run, to the delicate, needle-like fangs that protruded from the front rows of her teeth when she did so.

     "Solstice... that is your name, isn't it?" The witch savored my name on her tongue, like one would savor their favorite dessert. 

     "Well it definitely isn't Hershel, so yeah, I'd think it's me." 

     I was surprised at how indifferent my voice sounded, almost effortless. How well it masked my numbing fear, which was causing my heart to beat against my ribs like a desperate bird banging its fragile body against a cage.

     My fingers trembled slightly, so I clasped them behind my back to keep Magnesia from noticing.

     Of course, she saw right through me as if I were merely transparent. A window, in which she could indulge herself in my emotions and preen my already frantic conscience. 

     The Piper lurched forward in one quick stride, clamping her long, thorn-like fingers around my throat. Her claws dug into my skin, and blood began trickling from the gashes they made. I tried desperately to free myself, attempting to wriggle out from Magnesia's constricting grip, but found that she only squeezed tighter at my movement.

     "L-let go of me, you damn slag!" I spat.

     This obviously appealed to her amusement. She chuckled, eyeing me in a condescending manner. "Now that's not exactly polite, is it?" 

     Magnesia released her grip on my throat, letting me slide limply to the ground. She circled my crumpled body, cackling like a hyena. I forced myself to my feet, but collapsed once again from oxygen deprivation.

     The Piper, clearly disappointed, gave a mocking pout. "I was hoping you'd give more of a fight. But, brave as you are, you've proven no challenge to me. How utterly pathetic."

     The witch placed her foot none-to-gently on my arm, and slammed it down with sudden force. I let out a pained groan, as I couldn't even muster a scream, and silently cursed myself for inventing such a vile creature. As soon as I've escaped this retched world, I will make sure to kill the sorceress in the slowest, most painful way possible. That is, if I live long enough to return...

     "Now, this is the moment I have been anticipating since I first felt your presence in this realm!" said Magnesia triumphantly, tracing her thorn-like fingers along my skin, caressing my face with her bitter-sweet touch. "However, I seem to have faced a terminal. You see, I'm barren of ideas for your death, darling. It's as if all creativity has been sapped from my body... but never mind it. Your death will be simple, but certainly satisfying." the sorceress leered, and before I could object, began speaking.

     "The girl eyed her superior with defeat, finally accepting her grim fate." the witch began, chuckling at the loathe gleaming in my eyes. "You have such a pretty physique, dear. Wouldn't it be a shame if you were to, say... slit your own throat?" As she finished saying this, a dagger began to ameliorate in my hands.

      Despite the situation, I marveled at its beauty. The spade-shaped blade gleamed like newly polished platinum, and the carefully crafted handle was embellished with obsidian stones. But awe could not mask the steadily-growing fear that wormed itself through my body as my hands began lifting the dagger towards my throat.