Page 32 of The Soulless Witch

The world blurred, and the alley disappeared, giving place to the dark interior of a wooden house. Through the crevice of the cracked door leading to the small bedroom I used to share with my sister, I watched my parents argue, their faces pale and worried.

“How would I know why she is headed this way?” My father snarled as he ran a hand over his shaved head. His muscles rippled under his shirt, then relaxed when his hand fell off his head, only for him to ball it into a fist. “She is a monster that only knows how to kill!”

“Yes, but she doesn’t bother with our kind unless we’ve angered her! Her quarrel is with the witches and the hunters. Do you think…she found out? I heard she—”

The door creaked because I leaned on it too hard, and both of their heads snapped toward me. Anger flashed in my father’s eyes and he bared his teeth, but it was my mother that moved toward me. I lowered my head, ready for her scolding, but before she reached my side, somebody screamed outside.

“She’s already here?” My mother gasped, hugging me tightly. “How can she find this place so fast? We need to run, Jordan! We need to take Isaac and go! We already gave enough and if we stay—”

“And go where?” my father barked at her, striding to the wall where his ax hung on thick metal nails. “The only choice we have now is to fight. She can’t kill the entire pack on her own, even if she is the most powerful witch alive.” His eyes flickered to me, and for the first time, hesitation flashed in them. “Hide him and come along. We’ll need everyone to stand up to her. We didn’t sacrifice so much just to die like this.”

He left the house without looking back, while my mother dragged me to the bedroom, opening the wardrobe’s doors and pushing me in.

“Stay there and do not come out!” she ordered as she cupped my face. “I’m sorry, my boy. I’ll carry this guilt with me forever, but…” Tears swam in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. “Whatever you do, do not come out. Do you hear me, Isaac? You can only come out when I come to get you!”

“Why?” I asked as fear rocked my body. I had never seen my mother so distraught, not even when Alice disappeared. Just what kind of monster was coming here and why? “Is it Alice? Did she come back?”

“Your sister isn’t coming back, Isaac.” My mother sobbed, getting to her feet. Just before she closed the doors, she added. “Stay put, my boy, and pray. Pray you don’t suffer a fate worse than your sister’s.”

I opened my mouth to ask what she meant, but she was already gone, leaving me alone in the darkness, with just a tiny crevice between the boards that let in the light from the dwindling candle. The minutes dragged, and with them, the stench of fire and blood permeated the air.

I waited and waited, but the screams only got louder and the air grew thicker. When a woman screamed near our house, a voice that sounded so much like my mother’s, I crawled out of my hiding spot. The sight of bright flames licking the door filled me with horror, but the heat melted away the dread that kept me frozen in place. I climbed onto Alice’s bed and pressed my palms on the small window above it. The wood screeched, but it remained stuck until I threw all my weight at it. I couldn’t shift yet—something my father was very ashamed of—but I was still strong enough to do this much.

I crawled out just as the flames licked my feet, the soft forest floor cushioning my fall as I landed on my face. Pushing myself up, I took in the burning houses and trees, the fire spreading with the rising wind and turning the night into a day. People were running around in human or wolf form, shouting for the children to hide, or for the adults to grab their weapons.

I pushed myself to my feet, searching for my parents. I couldn’t lose them, not after losing Alice. I had to fight; I had to help…I had to! I had to prove I wasn’t weak and useless!

Balling my hands into fists, I ran after the people with the weapons. Swirling past the last of the houses that led to the village’s square, I tripped on something and fell. Looking down at the obstacle, I stared at the unmoving eyes of a man with his throat burned through, blood oozing from the blackened skin as he gazed unseeingly at the sky.

Screaming in surprise, I pushed myself off of him and looked around.

The square was filled with people. No, not people. Bodies. Dead bodies scattered around with burned faces or missing limbs, fur dripping with blood, or feet and arms broken at odd angles. And in the middle of all that carnage stood a woman who couldn’t have been from this world.

Tall and slender, she wore a long black dress that swirled around her like a living shadow. One hand held a long staff that glowed in an eerie green light, while a ball of blazing fire danced in her other, licking her skin without burning it. There was blood on her, so much blood that it was dripping from her chin and fingers like she had been bathing in it.

Was she a vampire? But vampires couldn’t use magic.

“Is that it? You’d rather die than admit your folly?” she screamed. “Where was this fight when your children were being taken? Oh, wait. They weren’t taken. They were—”

A figure stepped from among the warriors surrounding her and attacked. A scream tore from my lips as I watched my father in his wolf form charge at the red-haired woman. She didn’t even flinch when the giant beast soared through the air, ready to tackle her to the ground. Instead, she raised her staff, the light from it encircling her body like a soap bubble. The wolf crashed into her spell with a reverberating crack, dropping to the ground and rolling away.

Witch. She was a witch! But how did she defeat so many of our warriors? How could she be holding her own against my father?

She was upon the wolf in an instant, swinging with her staff. He moved to avoid it, but a ball of fire was already flying toward the space he tried to retreat to. Green flames licked his fur, spreading faster than any normal fire would, and even as he rolled in the muck, they kept burning like nothing could stop them. He shifted back into his human form, desperate to get rid of them, but their long, sinister tongues stuck to his skin, melting it off his bones, and adding to the pungent smell of gore that hung heavily in the air.

Bile rose in my throat while I watched him attack the witch again, but her staff slid past his sharp nails, pressing right against his chest. The wood barely touched his bulging muscles before a bright light exploded from its tip. He stumbled back, looking down in surprise. Then he swayed, toppling over, but not before I noticed the gaping hole in the middle of his torso.

Another familiar scream made me tear my eyes away from my father’s body. I watched as my mother’s wolf form ran toward the witch and, before I knew it, I was jumping over corpses and slipping on blood.

“Nooo!” I screamed, just when the witch pointed her staff at my mother. I couldn’t shift, but I could still fight. She just killed my father; I wasn’t letting her take my mother as well. I’d die first, I’d…

When I was close enough, I jumped. I was ready to tackle her to the ground and pommel her with my bare fists when the fire suddenly disappeared from her palm and she turned her hand in my direction. I was big for my age, even if I didn’t have my wolf yet, so there was no chance for her to catch me with that thin arm of hers. She wasn’t even looking at me, her eyes firmly locked on my mother.

I was going to take her down, and we were all going to finish her.

The witch’s fingers wrapped around my throat with frightening ease. I stared at that thin, long arm that held me in the air, then my eyes switched to her face just as she turned to look at me. I expected to see something horrendous, something truly terrifying and disgusting, worse than any vampire or Fae.

I was wrong.

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