Page 22 of Witch Queens: Tales from Oz

Scarecrow opened the front door to the bar, and that’s when I smelt the rancid overpowering scent of blood. The streets looked like they had been bathed in it. Blankets were covering two small forms. My heart clutched in my chest. I hadn’t realized that I was crying until Scarecrow pulled me once more against him.

“If this is too much, Princess, I will take care of it. You don’t need to see all of this.”

But I did. How was I supposed to be the ruler of Oz if I couldn’t take care of my people? These two individuals had families, responsibilities, and futures that were senselessly cut short.

I wiped my eyes, “No, I can do it. Why would they do this here? We are almost out of my territory. The Munchkins don’t live outside of the village.”

Scarecrow took my hand, squeezing it tightly, “Look at the wall.”

Written in blood were the words, “They come and go so quickly here. Who is next?”

“Shit,” I took in a deep breath. “Scarecrow, this makes five victims in the last two weeks. We have to stop her.”

“Are you sure that it's this Dorothy person?” he looked unconvinced, “I can’t see a young girl doing something like this.”

I whipped around to face him, “She dropped a fucking house on me. What are a few more murders?”

“Maybe it was a mistake?”

I felt my temper rise, “Maybe it was a mistake to ask you for help. Maybe it was a mistake to think that you would take me seriously.”

He raised a brow, “I am only playing devil’s advocate. We don’t have concrete evidence that it was her.”

“Scarecrow?” A beautiful fairy fluttered up to us, “We have found something.”

We both turned and followed the six-inch fairy over to where the victims had been. They were no longer on the ground, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know where the fairies had taken them.

She pointed to a bloody rag that I hadn’t noticed before. The fairy whipped her wand out, and in a flash, it floated before us, dripping on the pavement. She flicked her wand again, and the blue and white checkered material was as fresh and clean as if it were brand new. You could now see that it had been torn from something or someone.

My eyes met Scarecrow’s, “This is from the dress that Dorothy was wearing when she tried to kill me. Do you believe me now?”

CHAPTER 9

“Look, she sounds likea psychopath. We need to call Daddy to take care of this.” Glenda, our youngest sister, said earnestly from the end of the table.

I had called a meeting of the witches after this latest attack. Since all of the witches of Oz happened to be my sisters, the four of us sat around one of the tables in Scarecrow’s empty bar.

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