Madam Spellman one-shots

I've got you.

Zelda presses up against the tall tree, her breath uneven and shaking just as much as her hands. The adrenaline is running through her body, shooting up her blood pressure further than she thinks her body can handle.

As hard as she tries to quiet her heavy breath, she doesn't quite manage to make the throaty sound vanish on her own and enchants the ungraceful noises that leave her mouth to be inaudible for the time being. The small cloud of smoke that appears with every exhale is the only thing giving away she's there at all.

Her heart hammers away in her chest and she wills it to calm down quick enough to not be heard by the huntress on her back, probably already closer than Zelda knows.

She can't risk her hearing her racing heart. Her chest heaves and falls with every breath and she closes her eyes, pressing harder into the hard wood that's cooling her hot and sweaty back, giving her the release she so desperately needs. She swallows the thick lump in her throat, knowing if she has to run for it again, she'll need all the energy she can get, so she tries to relax her burning muscles a bit.

She presses her eyes shut even harder and concentrates on the rustling of leaves and breaking of sticks not far away. She knows she's close, too close.

She could discover her hiding spot any second now and Zelda would have to bolt if she wanted to withstand a chance against the force that she definitely underestimated at first. She thought she would be up for the challenge, but she isn't. She is far from it.

She clutches the soft item in her hand, praying to the Dark Lord that she'll make it out of the woods and back into safety before she's discovered and probably executed like a lamb lead to the slaughter.

She watches the birds flee around her, probably sensing the thick tension in the wide and open space. She can't blame them. She's on the run too after all. Zelda's only chance now is being faster than her, smarter than her and luckier than her. Luck is what she desperately needs.

"I know you're hiding somewhere," she hears the sugarcoated, crisp voice echo through the silence of the night, a stark contrast to the chill and silence of the starless night.

"Come out, dear. I won't bite," she almost sings and Zelda finds herself smiling at the poisonous sweetness of the voice that makes her knees go weak and pulse race her thoughts. How alluring she can sound and yet how dangerously close to death she brings her.

Her breath and heart rate finally calm down enough for her to dare a glance around the corner, not knowing where the danger is currently positioned, as the rustling noises have long stopped. She sees a flash of brown tresses and presses back against the tree immediately.

She's close. Close enough to smell her but somehow Zelda must have done a pretty good job at destroying her tracks or she'd be long dead already.

How infuriated the brunette must be at the lack of ginger curls in her hands that would just love to be painfully ripping at them. Yeah, she definitely has to run for it.

"I'll be nice," she hears her voice another time and it sends chills straight down her spine, making her entire body jolt in excitement and fear. She doesn't know what she should do next. Staying is dangerous but running would be even more fatal.

And in the middle of a Friday night, underneath the brightest full moon since her second century of eternal, well almost eternal, life, Zelda Spellman has an idea. An idea that makes the corner of her lips pull up into a smirk that would put every other smirk in the corner.

o.O.o

Lilith finds herself scanning the area around her, anger and fury boiling deep within her poised soul. How dare that woman?