The Witch's Toy ✔

2: the gold pendant

The drummer boy craned his head to one side, unnatural features becoming sharper at an angle. "What's this?" His eyes flickered to my pendant, considering it for a brief moment. When he looked back at me again, eyes widened and mouth opened, showing me thousands of little teeth, I thought for a second that I would die right then and there — consumed and eaten by him. But I didn't.

"You," he breathed, a darkness filling his once honey eyes to complete black. "I can't believe I didn't recognize you after all these years."

I blanked, blinking a couple times in confusion. Swallowing, I opened my mouth to question him, but the words died in my throat when I saw his black eyes burn. I didn't know how such a dark color could reflect anything but an emptiness, and yet they simmered with hate and disdain.

His fingers trailed down from under my chin down my throat, long nails drawing blood. I winced, sucking in a sharp breath of air.

I wish I could move. I wish my legs could lift themselves up and carry me away, but I couldn't take my eyes off of his. They held me there like there was some sort of chain that I just couldn't break.

"Uriel." He whispered darkly, gripping my face with his hand as he jerked me forward.

I stumbled towards him, feet tripping over the broken talismans that dragged across the door's threshold. His body broke my fall, but I immediately pushed back against his chest on impulse, keeping a distinct space between us.

"Did you come back here to mock us, to see if we were still suffering, trapped inside the bodies of toys?"

I couldn't answer.

"Or is it because that human boy you wanted so badly finally went and died?"

I didn't know who he was referring to. I didn't even know who this Uriel he called me was, but his words made me flinch.

"Ah," The drummer boy grinned, showing me his rows of teeth. His dark eyes glinted, amused by my reaction. "So he did? Is this why you've become so weak, hm?" He turned my face from side to side, then let me go, eyes raking down my body. "I thought you were only a witch, but it seems as if you have only just become a human girl." His eyes flickered back up to meet mine, head tilting to one side. "What did you have to do to become one? Kill that cursed human boy yourself?"

I balled up my fingers so tightly my knuckles ached with the effort. I didn't know how he could say that so nonchalantly as if the weight of a life was nothing but a paper doll he could burn in fire without so much as a blink.

"Don't say that," I said, voice low.

The drummer boy leaned down, turning his head and cupping a hand over his ear. "What was that, dear?" He was mocking me. Clearly, he understood what I said, but he wanted to challenge me — to see if I would go against him and to see if I would not be fazed by his sardonic attitude.

"I said," — gritting my teeth together — "Don't. Say. That."

He frowned, and before I could even realize what was going to happen next, I saw a white flash as a cracking sound echoed across the silent room.

I was on the floor, hands braced against the cold ground. Moments passed as I took in shaky breaths of air, wondering what just happened. Then, pain came as if answering my unsaid question, sparking across my cheek and jaw before worsening to a heavy throb. When my hand went up, gently touching my face to assess the injury, I whimpered. Tears sprung to my eyes.

A blurry figure hovered over me, then crouched down. He grabbed my hand, thumb stroking my inner wrist thoughtfully. I tensed, feeling my body quiver in response. He brushed against the faded scars that were there, reminding me of things I didn't want to remember.