Wolfless Luna

Chapter 8

Hannah's POV

I'm stuck. No I feel folded. Am I dead? Am I in a casket? Why is everywhere so dark? And does this space feel small? I shake my feet violently and with every strength in my body, only to gasp as something cut deep into my ankles, something sharp and round. I ignore it and wiggle my shoulders, but its numb as well as my arms and almost every part of my body.

What is this? Another sick method of provoking my wolf? I wonder what heights these people would reach to prove I am a werewolf. For now, I need to escape here, or at least be sure of where I am.

'Hello!' I scream, even though my voice sounds muffled and devastating. 'Anybody!? Hello!? Janelle!?'

Nothing. Not even an echo of my voice. Just the depressing sound in my ears.

'Please if you're there... Just... Just help me out. Please I beg of you. Somebody!'

Nothing.

I begin to consider the worst scenario. Maybe I am way deep into the earth, buried and sealed with magic. Then that would be why no one heard me. And this certainly will be my death. How pitiful!

I break into a fit of uncontrollable tears streaming down my face. For a certain moment I had thought this place would be better, but how it spiralled into this madness, I can not understand. Luca at least has never buried me alive, the worst he had done was starve me for a week, and that was because he knew I would survive.

'Oh do not wet my bed!'

I freeze. Listening attentively to what I think is another person's voice. Even though I am startled, I am grateful that I am not in the ground.

'Young lady. Sleep! I will attend to you after lunch.'

Taking a moment to decipher my companion's voice, I demystify her gender. She is a woman, a young woman. This only makes me angrier, knowing I might be able to take her down if she were a regular person. But with what Janelle and her uncle had said earlier, this lady might be the witch. The very powerful one. I am super curious to see her in action, casting her ridiculous spells and cursing generations. I mean I've seen lots of witches cast spells in different weird languages and on me, but all to no avail. This makes me think all witches are confused and should try other job opportunities.

'I am thirsty. Can I have water please?' I test my luck, making myself sound extra pathetic for the witch to reveal herself to me. Except I hear nothing, no reception to my plea. It makes me wonder if she is still close by.

'Hello. Errm. Please if you're there I said I'm...'

'A second of peace was all I requested Hannah! Why would you push your luck? I should eat your brains, turn you into a frog or just kill you for intentionally annoying me.'

My breathing hitch in instant regret and petrification. There's something about her voice that makes me recoil, something about her threats that makes her believable. And I am somehow reassured that this woman is dangerous, not the regular witches I've entertained.

I hear a creaking sound above me, then a slight vibration and warmth on my face. My eyes twitch uncomfortably when the top of the box slides open to reveal a blinding light and a young lady's face, no doubts the witch. But I'd thought she would be older, but this lady is very young, probably same age with Janelle and annoyingly gorgeous with long silver hair reflecting in my face.

'Come out. It's time for your test.' The witch says as she turns her back and walk away from me.

But I can not move my body, I'm stuck in the box and my head hurts from the blinding light, my retina burns too and I feel really weak.

I remain in my position because I can not move. 'Get up Hannah! Do not make me repeat myself!' Yet again, something in her voice prompted my body to move, and before I know it I am sitting up, and pushing my weight out of the box, an action I regret as I fall out of the box with an embarrassing thud. It sounded like a cannon ball hitting the ground in my head.

The witch's lair is not as preposterous as I envisioned, it is simply a house in the woods. Very homely with feminine aesthetics making the witch less terrifying. There are soft hues of pink draping every corner, from the velvety curtains that dances in the breeze to the delicate potion bottles lining the shelves. Crystal orbs, tinted in rosy shades, illuminates the room with a gentle glow. Plush cushions adorned with lace, adorns a cozy reading nook, inviting moments of spellbound introspection. The air carries a hint of floral potions, and in the center, a bubbling cauldron releasing wisps of pastel magic. It is indeed enchanting, so enchanting I blush in excitement.

'The owner died. I'm yet to redecorate.' The witch defends her reputation from the corner of the room like she reads my thoughts. But I ignore her. I am more invested in something that has just got my interest, the picture on the wall of a family, a happy one with three silver haired daughters and flawless caramel skin like their mother. One of them must be the witch, I realize enthusiastically, elated for having solved a useless problem I created in my head.

And then a new question... Where is the witch's family? Where are her parents and siblings? I wait for an answer, staring at the picture quizzically and tilting my head like the answer would come if I saw the picture from another angle.

'Sit!'

I obey without grumbling, forsaking the portrait with disappointment on my face. However, my curiosity about the witch piques as she sits opposite me on a small wooden stool, her medieval royal blue gown dancing slightly above her dainty feet. She wore an armlet with four cowries around a red thread, and on her wrists were golden bracelets that seems very expensive. I know pure gold when I see it.

'Give me your hand.'

I give it to her while unabashedly staring at her face in amazement, she is really beautiful, almost angelic. How ironical. She utters some incantations, her neck twitching uncontrollably like a spirit has possessed her.

'You are neither wolf nor human.'

My brows jump of their own accord. I feel she is stating the obvious, yet in a scary manner, as though my fate has been sealed with her declaration. I must confess that I feel worse, and hopeless.

'My parents were werewolves...' I start explaining and shut up when she holds an index finger to my lips, with her eyes still closed like she is in a trance.

'Not a word.' She mutters and smiles. 'You are adopted. No. It doesn't make sense. Your mother birthed you and ... This sucks man.'

I chuckle stealthily at her facial expression and very modern way of speaking while in a trance. Is she not supposed to speak the language of her ancestors?

'Ah now I see. Your mother's intimacy with a wizard, birthed you.'

I snatch my hand from hers, glaring at her in sheer exasperation. How dare she accuse of my mother of infidelity!?

'My mother was faithful to my father.' I swear through gritted teeth, ready to pounce on the witch if necessary.

'My visions are quite vivid young lady...'

'And what are you... old lady? Your vision are lies...'

'Watch your tongue lady, I have quite a temper. If you can not handle the truth, carry your curse in ignorance. Now get out of my lair. I refuse to render any more help. And I hope you die.'