Page 9 of There's No Place Like Oz

A circle of blackbirds circled overhead like buzzards waiting for an animal to give up their last breath.

I glanced to my right, moving only my eyes, where Toto hung limp and silent in my periphery. A painful and horrible sight, where my only respite was that he wasn’t conscious to be living this horror like I was. I couldn’t bear to see him like that.

So I shifted my gaze to my left, where the dead man hung instead, letting the reality of my fate sink in with the visual.

Which was when I noticed that this dead man… had started to stir.

Chapter 6

I lifted my eyelids only a sliver, allowing me to easily observe without giving away my current state of consciousness. I’d been hanging in this field for the better part of a month—if my count of the sunrises has been accurate—but this was the first time I’d ever been treated with company. The man was likely alive yet unconscious. The woman, conversely, wasobviouslyalive and very feisty. She was flailing about, kicking and screaming bloody murder. The munchkinswerebloody murderers, incidentally, so I supposed I could forgive the shrillness of her whines. Her words dripped with panic, and her yelps and cries of pain spoke to someone suffering the disadvantages of mortal flesh.

I was like that once. I’m fairly certain, anyway.Though I barely remembered a time when I was just a man.

A sorceress is what they called her, but that couldn’t be true. If shewasa sorceress, she would have surely been able to defend herself. Weak as she was, Grunhilda never would have been held by these little trolls for long, and the other witches all had their own parlor tricks that could put an uppity munchkin in their place.

Surprise, surprise that they would confuse a human for a god, considering the level of munchkin intellect.They wouldn’t be able to tell a magician from a dormouse with their logic and observational skills. There was a reason that ten thousand of these strong, able-bodied people had cowered under the rule of one tired woman with little more than the ability to raise a few corpses, make tiny flames from her fingertips, and fly around on a broomstick. If they were strong enough to capture me, after all, of course they were capable of a coup d’état. They just would have needed half a brain to organize, and I doubted whether there was even a fraction of that collectively among the whole lot.

Yet hereIwas, pinned to a crucifix in the middle of a field, because my dearest Hildy thought to tell everyone that my blood would save them, all because we’d broken up over a silly little disagreement over the merits of indiscriminate torture.

Oz hath no fury like a wicked witch scorned.

But I digress.More significant than my cursed love life was this new company who joined me as fellow scarecrows. The dark haired man was a sight to behold. He was about as tall as I was, beautifully symmetrical, and it was obvious how nicely sculpted his body was, even under the raggedy tunic he’d been dressed in. A fine specimen to be sure, but by no stretch was he a scary one. The crows wouldn’t be afraid of such a man. He looked far too kind and too delicate.

And then there was this young woman. Her hair was a waterfall of color, from soft browns to sparkling streaks of gold, and her eyes were a mesmerizing blue, shining behind the heavy gloss of tears. I won’t say I liked seeing a woman cry,per say, but I did find that vulnerability and fear in her voice and expressions rather… enticing. Perhaps I’d simply been nailed to this post for far too long, because just the image of her so helpless and desperate and scared was doing something to me.

I fought a chuckle that would draw attention to the fact that I was still alive.You’re a sick man, Crowe.

Though perhaps if Hildy hadn’t performed a magical lobotomy with her bare hands, stealing away my guilt, compassion, and humanity in the process, I wouldn’t be thinking something so horribly depraved.But what can you do. We all have our crosses to bear.

Hildy liked me better this way after all. An orgasm was so much more satisfying when you nearly died in its pursuit, and I certainly had no qualms with the possibility of nearly (or completely) killing her. My only regret was that I never pushed her near death all the way to actual death. I’d have to fix that at some point.

I returned my attention to this girl on the pike, where I combed my gaze down her body until I reached the shoes that adorned her little feet.

Silver shoes. Shoes that hadn’t been flat or neutral in color in ages.

The witch’s shoes.

Curious. How did she come upon those?

The detestable little trolls turned their back on us as they began gathering up their tools, and I opened my eyes and moved my head just enough to catch the attention of the sobbing girl at my side. I motioned towards the distracted munchkins with my chin, allowing the barbs to scrape along the raw skin of my neck. I’d long since bled out up here, so there was no mess from my usual cuts and bruises.

“Don’t squirm too much, or you’ll bleed out faster.” I whispered, low enough that the little bastards wouldn’t hear. I twisted the corners of my lips upward with deceptive gentleness. “Oz would be bereft to lose a beauty like you. AndIwould be bereft to lose your company before I’ve even gotten to enjoy it.”

She blinked those pretty little doe eyes, dispelling the tears, and regaining some sort of composure. How funny that I would give someone calm. Perhaps I could be that savior she was crying for. “I don’t want to bleed out up here.” Her words were less quiet, though the munchkins were blatantly ignoring her. “My blood isn’t magic.” The break in her voice was begging me to give her hope.

Mmmm, sweet girl, there is no hope in Oz.But lucky for her, Ihadgrown most tired of this post.

“Don’t be so certain.” I winked. “Magic takes many, many forms.”

I would be more than happy to show her an example. I tugged forward on my right wrist until the barbed wire was taut against my bloodless flesh. The metal cut in deeper and deeper, slicing through my muscle like it was a knife in soft, warm brie, up until my restraints hit bone. She watched, wide eyed, as I began to saw at my wrist, using the barbs to sever tendon and cartilage. I wrenched the connecting tissue back and forth until my hand was completely severed. It fell to the floor, separate my body, with the fingers still twitching and pulsing.

The look of absolutehorrorin her agape lips and dilated pupils was most adorable and innocent. I was guessing she’d never met a cursed corpse who had fucked the immortality out of a witch before. How lucky that I could be her first.

The thunk of my hand on the ground got the attention of the miniature monsters, and I extended my palm-free arm as they turned to face me.

“Can you get that for me?” I asked ever so casually. “I seem to have dropped it.”

The munchkins looked at me. They looked at the hand. They looked at the expectant and impatient glint in my eyes. Then, like the idiots they always were, the toughest among them bent down, picked it up, and presented it to me.

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