White witches in the land of Mythweald were not prone to black witches which had turned them soft compared to the other white witches who knew how to defend because of the constant conflict. He struggled to get out of her hold but it was to no avail. Laurae enjoyed twisting his arm and she pulled up close to push him against the carved walls that had ridges on it. She pushed his head back and forth. Hitting his head until he started to lose consciousness with the number of times his head had collided.
When the black witch let him go, the father of the church stumbled down on the ground. His head hurting and blood over his white clothes that had started to drip from his mouth and head due to the cut.
“You’re going to hell,” the man stated when Laurae came to sit next to him.
“Hell is here and nowhere else,” she whispered to him, “Would you want your death to be a memorable one?” a smile crawled upon her lips, her hand moving to his face to touch it gently as if he were her child.
In the next moment, Laurae had dipped her fingers into the priest’s throat and had pulled the rest of his skin below it with her such that blood spurted out of his body everywhere with the large open cavity at the front, from his neck to his chest. She looked at him moving and gasping like a fish for water. Her hand had turned bloody, her face etching with drops of blood along with the cloak that she wore that didn’t necessarily hint it was blood because of its black color.
She smiled looking down at the dead man now, “Father, I have sinned and I enjoyed every bit of it,” she took hold of the father’s hand, dragging him out as she walked out of the church.
The black witch left the church, on her way to find the next white witch who could read the book for her but that didn’t stop the local men and women from passing by or visiting the church. A couple who had come to speak to the father was only about to enter when they felt something cold and sticky hit their face.
Stopping to check what it was, they looked up.
“AHH!!!! IT’S A DEAD MAN!” the woman with him screamed her lungs out, her hands raised up to cover her mouth in shock of what they saw hanging at the cross of the church.
The priest of this church was found stuck on the cross with his body crouched forward along with limbs that had fallen limp. Right below him on the ground, a small pool of blood had formed. The church was surrounded by plenty of trees and in those trees something moved as if an animal had jumped down to go on its way, leaving the branches shaking.
Laurae continued to move from one church to another which was mostly isolated to find, in search to have someone read the book. The woman herself had gone through the pages of the book a couple of times to see if she could decipher before she came to realize that if Sabbi couldn’t decipher the book she wouldn’t be able to do it either. She left a trail of blood behind her. Sometimes humans and sometimes witches.
One of the days, the black witch had turned back to her human self and went to an inn to spend time there. Wanting to find a man who she could trap so that she could use for his money or for body parts.
“It is going to be two silver coins and five nickels,” said the man at the counter to her as she had picked one of the nicest looking inn.
“Did the price of the room increase?” she asked the man offering him a polite smile who didn’t smile back. The man was well accustomed to the way people try to buy their way into the inn without giving the full payment.
“It has been so for a year,” he answered her.
Laurae pulled out her pouch, pulling out the coins while counting it as she was one coin short.
“Bill the lady’s account to mine,” she heard a manly voice next to her. The man appeared to be considerably older in his fifties while also being taller than her. There was her scapegoat, thought the black witch to herself.
“Oh, no, please!” Laurae said trying to be coy and embarrassed, which was working well on the man who had offered to buy her her stay for the night, “I will find another inn-” the man waved her off.
“Please, I insist. It is the time of noon and there’s no better inn that can keep a lady safe around. Allow me,” said the man, pushing a gold coin.
Laurae offered him another smile before saying, “Thank you, Sir. I shall return the coin back to you once I meet my family. By the way, I am Anne Shell,” she offered him her hand and the man took her hand, leaning forward to kiss the back of her hand.
“I am Victor Belling,” there was a certain accent that was thick in his voice, “It is good to make your acquaintance.”
“Likewise,” answered the woman. The man next to her wasn’t a rich man but he was enough to swindle and pull out the money. Also, another reason being, killing men and women who weren’t of high standing brought less trouble. Men like these were her local money account she could draw out from. Giving the man another smile, she picked up the key to her room and left the counter.
Stepping into the room, she locked the door while her lips dropped the smile that had been up. Staring at the door, her eyes and her features started to turn to dark scales on her kind.
The black witch went to the windows of the room, locking it while making sure it was closed and started to drop her clothes before entering the bath. Laurae was someone unknown in this town and she had made sure not to leave any of her tracks behind her.
What the black witch wasn’t aware of was that there was someone who had been keeping a close watch on her. Seeing her hop into one town after another to have a white witch read the book.
The window which was locked got unlocked and the window was pushed open slowly and subtly without a hint of noise as the black witch had her eyes closed whilst she enjoyed the water as a human would. Only that this water was boiling warm. The person looked at the witch who was in the water and didn’t bother to look again as there was something else to look for.
