The red moon still scowled when she woke up.
Where am I?
Adreanna looked around, her mind scattered in a thousand different ways. Thousands of thoughts filled her head, such as how she could escape, what had happened, what she would have for breakfast, and whether she would even escape to have breakfast.
Dementum. There was no doubt about it. An herb that could hinder concentration.
Most witches believed it to be extinct, and her parents hadn't taught her the techniques required to dispel its effects. She couldn't even light a candle, let alone stop the mess in her mind.
It was impossible. Every time she focused on an object, another one caught her attention. But based on the very limited knowledge she could glean, she was tied up. Her head injury had healed, no doubt a result of her magic. Still, a wound like that would have taken three or four hours, perhaps five, to fully repair.
How long had she been here? Would she be here forever? Who was that man? Was the fire extinguished, or did it burn the forest down? What would happen if it did?
Focus!
Styx was on the table, still asleep in his cat form.
She was in some kind of cottage, and the heads of animals adorned the walls. Were they alive once, or had they been artificially produced? Did they still have blood in them? How would the owner clean it up if they did? How often did he have to do it? Was it always red, or was it sometimes some other color? Would it be odd if it was? How did this blood taste?
Focus!
She had one option. There were few books in her cottage on Dementum, but they all advised the same thing.
Concentrate on one object. Envision it in your mind's eye, unmoving, unchanging.
She stared at the dagger on the table across from her, where Styx slept.
Focus!
The image seared itself into her mind. Her eyes stung as she continued to gaze at the blade, noting every inch of steel.
Focus!
The pain was unbearable. Her skull shattered, her brain melting apart. Blood pushed from the inside, begging to be freed. It felt as if her mind was about to break like glass. All around her, different objects and movements pleaded for attention, begging to be seen. Random, disorganized questions had to be examined.
The pain was never-ending.
Then it did.
She did it.
"Impressive. The Devil gives his creatures power."
He'd been there the whole time.
Fear found her heart, replaced by relief.
My lucky day. A Hunter of the Crucifix.
The Hunters of the Crucifix, witch hunters dedicated to hunting witches in the name of their Lord and Savior, were always the easiest to get away from, with their lack of understanding about witch lore. Often, deities masqueraded as the so-called One True God in order to gain power.
Worship was their strength, the faith of humanity, was their nourishment. Acts of devotion opened portals for them. The larger the portal, the greater the effect.
Witches were different. Dangerous. Their power was innate, the result of a divine spark within them. A spark that could become a flame. The divine feared that spark, fearing the day it would turn into a blazing flame.
Or at least, that was the general consensus.
Which god sent you?
She'd had a few run-ins with Opulentia, the hideous goddess of wealth. Beautiful on the outside, when given a closer look...
Though, of course, it could have easily been others like Volius, the deity of lust. His followers were carnal sadists, beings devoted purely to sexual ecstasy.
She had been kidnapped and nearly tortured for information regarding a coven of witches, a rare thing these days. Only escaping when Styx clawed at her captor's genitals. Easy enough, considering they were always naked.
A miscalculation on Volius' part.
"Who are you?" she growled.
He slapped her.
"Be silent, witch. You may have resisted the effects of the herbs, but the Devil is gone. He gives you no strength, and now I shall bring you to my village. I doubt they won't reward me handsomely, bringing you in."
Rewarded? For me?
She would have to question him later about that. But it had been a while since she'd found a human to play with. Why give up the chance?
The hunter wore a white shirt with black pants tied by a belt. His hair was neatly arranged. A belt of knives adorned his chest. She noticed his wedding ring. Dirty, matted with blood and grime.
Clearly, it never struck him to clean it.
An idea struck like hot iron on flesh. She would have to be subtle...
"What does God give you, if I may ask?"
He stammered, clearly surprised by the question.
"Well, I-I, he gives us food and water. Our daily bread. He is our Savior."
"And what do you do in exchange? So many rules you have to follow, all just to buy your way into Heaven?"
She asked, her voice the portrait of innocence. Her magic stirred, sharpening the air until she felt its blade on her neck.
She stood up; the bindings cut away. He took a step back.
"So many rules... We can help each other out, don't you think?"
He grabbed his knife, recoiling as she came closer, one hand on his shoulder. Her energy invited him in. She had to be careful. This magic was always unreliable. Every little thing made a difference.
"And how would you do that?"
He's considering it.
"Do you really think we would trust the Devil, the Father of Lies? Do you think we would sell our souls so freely, knowing that with it, we sell all hope we have of paradise?"
"Satan offers you eternity. That is more than enough for scum like you."
She chuckled.
"But what about you? You live such disciplined life. It must be tiring, and yet you still refuse to let me in. You know you want to..."
Her hand replaced his knife, which lay on the table. Styx was still asleep, though he was certainly squirming.
He's waking up. Better finish up quick.
"We witches have a secret. Did you know we could pass to and from Heaven as we pleased?"
His eyes widened. She had him, and now she could reel him in.
"Impossible."
"Anything is possible. Think about it. Why would we give up all our hopes of paradise? I can give you the secret. You could have everything you wanted. All the temptations of flesh would open anew."
She placed her hand on his chest.
"No."
Her face darkened with anger.
Plan B then.
The hunter screamed as Adreanna lifted him into the air, imbuing her muscles with magic. He choked as she dug her fingernails into his throat. Blood trickled down her hands.
"You will answer my questions, you understand?" She scowled.
"Stop, in the name of the Lord Almighty!" He choked, rasping for air as she continued piercing his flesh.
"Refuse, and I will drag you to Hell kicking and screaming. Start talking."
He stared at her, mouth agape, beads of sweat ran down his forehead.
"Wh-what do you...want to know?" He gasped.
He tumbled to the floor.
"You used Dementum. Why me?"
Dementum was one of the rarest herbs on Earth, considered extinct. Why waste it on someone like her? An ordinary witch was hardly the same threat as others with powers far stronger.
"Well, it's not like we'll have much use for it once the last witch is dead." He breathed, voice hoarse. Blood continued to run down his throat, painting his shirt red. The dark liquid continued to flow, dripping onto the floor. "It only works on your kind, anyway."
It was her turn to be scared.
"If you're lying..." She glared at him, her threat painted on her face.
"No. I speak the truth." He stammered, eyes as wide as the moon.
"He's telling the truth." Styx told her. Her brows furrowed as he pounced onto the shelf beside her.
"First of all, how long were you awake for, and second, what makes you think that?"
"Why would he have reason to lie? And I was awake the whole time. Enough to see that you need to work on your courting skills. And your taste." His face contorted in disgust.
One look from her made it clear she wasn't in a joking mood.
"If I'm the last witch, every god within a mile will come to get me. We have to get far away from the towns, from everywhere with people. And he- " She pointed at him "-needs to die. We can't risk him telling anyone what he found."
The hunter stumbled backward.
What? You didn't think us "Servants" of the Devil were afraid to get our hands dirty, did you?
She grabbed an ax.
"This will do, don't you think Styx?"
"The blood!" Styx said. Blood flooded the hunter's mouth.
She stared in shock.
This was no doubt the work of a Dark God, but why?
They had no footing on the physical plane, and only extreme power could bring them here without a portal. What were they trying to hide from her?
One word echoed through her mind.
Yggdrasill.
It was impossible. Laughable even.
But she had to try. The gods were trying to stop her from finding something, at the very least. She needed to find out what. The ax was heavy, but strong. It would work just fine for her needs.
He was still bleeding, his skin now tinged with an ethereal glow. Whoever this was, they were coming. She would have to work fast.
"Styx, get me a cup. A glass, something!" She said, before heaving the blade into his skull. A satisfying crack resounded through the chamber as she continued her brutal assault. He was dead before the third strike.
On the floor, blood sloshed into a cup. The delicious scent filled the air.
She put the ax down and lifted the container. It would take at least a day or two before the memories within it faded away. She could get to work later.
Right now, she had to run. Run as fast as she could.
Her life depended on it.
ns 15.158.61.48da2
