Rest In Peace: 300 Year Old Witch

Chapter 4

I was normally not so hot tempered.

Usually, the irritation could be brushed aside, but when it came to this Abigail. Her tone. Her pitch. The exact way it lifts off her lips seemed to latch on like tar. It echoed in my head, pulling out this horrid mass from within. Feelings. Emotions I buried in the depths of my very being.

"Arshawl?" A timid voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "Eir Arshawl?" I looked up to see a boy in his teens. With frightened brown eyes and trembling lips, he did not seem to be one to approach first.

Though, approaching a lady without her consent is ill-mannered.

"You are?" I voiced as I tilted my head. Seconds flew by and a frown plastered itself on my face as I waited for the boy to answer.

"It's," he stuttered, "it's Oliver. Oliver Hensley." I nodded in approval as he finished. Just as he did, my brows pulled themselves together as I watched him shrink uncomfortably.

With a sigh, I swung my arm. It sliced through the air and hit Oliver's slouched back. He yelped in surprise as the impact pushed him a few step forward. "Pull yourself together, boy. Must you slouch like that?" I said as I watched Oliver stumble about.

"And stop stuttering. It's unflattering." I stated as he replied with a highpitched 'yes'. A pitch as high as the sky. Impatiently, I watched the boy to readjust his stance. Awkwardly, he shuffled about before he finally stopped.

I gaped as I stared at his back, now as straight as a ruler. His shoulders cinched together. It seemed as though they've been hideously morphed with his neck. My eyes then trailed down to his legs. His feet were bent in such and uncomfortable angle that I winced; and his chin. Goodness. His chin was parallel to the walls, facing straight towards the sky.

What on earth was he looking at? Was he speaking to the ceiling?

"Relax." I said as I placed a hand on his shoulder. Patiently, I waited for him slacken his awkward stance. As he did, I resumed again. "Now, shoulders back." I started as I applied weight to my hand. Gently, I pulled them back. My hands then traveled to the arch of his back and pushed his chest up.

"Chest out; and for heaven's sake, put your chin down." I huffed as I abruptly forced his head down.

Taking a step back, I examined my work. Now, Oliver stood tall, albeit a bit restless. His towering height made an impact, but his eyes wavered back and forth. Anxious. Timid. Nervousness practically oozed out of of the boy.

I frowned as I gathered the tiniest speck of power. Enough for the charm to bear. My eyes felt hot as the power accumulated within them. I watched his unsteady irises as I tried to see into his mind.

After all, eyes are the windows to the soul. I searched with the intent to understand why the boy was so unhinged. I tried to look for a memory or an experience; but instead, I saw something else. In the depths of this child's mind, a figure pace back and forth. Unnerved.

Oh, how times have changed. To see a pup out in the open mingling with humans. Especially one so weak. They used to be so secluded. So frightened to be hunted down. No wonder he seemed so skittish.

Oliver squirmed under my watch. He opened his mouth only to close it again, a motion that went on for quite awhile. With the realization that I had caused this odd behavior, I pulled back.

"Do you have something to ask of me?" I asked with the intent to steer the conversation back.

"Yes!" He squeaked. "Ms. Abigail told me to bring you to the cafeteria. For lunch." Oliver rambled off weakly. I grumbled as I remembered the events that transpired inside Abigail's office, its very doors stood behind me.