Witch Bewitched

Chapter 2

    How could she have been so stupid? Misa gasped for breath as she leaned against the brick wall. The moon shone above her, but darkness crept in from all directions. A shiver ran down her spine. She had never been outside so late, and she was surprised to find herself wanting to go back to the safety of her home.

    Pulling her cloak around her shoulders, Misa continued on. She had no idea where she was or how she had gotten there, but she couldn’t stay in one spot for long. Footsteps thudded behind her. She quickened her steps.

    “Where did you go?” a rough, cold voice spoke from the shadows. Misa froze, unable to pinpoint from which direction it had come from. She could only hope that the man who had followed her would eventually tire and leave, but he had been chasing her for hours and didn’t seem like he would leave anytime soon.

    She had noticed him tailing her when she parted the large crowd to snake through a shortcut but hadn’t thought anything of it until he ripped her cloak from her shoulders. Frightened, Misa had bolted away without a second thought, and in her frantic dash, left Min-Min behind. Now she was alone, unable to find her way back to her home and cornered like a rat.

    “You’re a mighty pretty one,” the voice continued. “I’ll enjoy ripping up your flesh and ridding the evil from this earth. It’s impossible that someone human would be as beautiful as you are, Miss. Only witches have the power to make themselves appear young and pretty after they take the souls of innocent children.”

    Misa shuddered with terror. She had heard so much about the witch killer that she thought she would be able to handle herself if she ever came to meet him, but she never anticipated the terror he brought with him. She now understood why none of the other young women could run from him as he butchered them like pigs. Her legs were shaking with so much fear that she was afraid she would fall if she took even one step.

    “I can smell you, witch,” the killer snarled. His footsteps echoed off the alley walls. Misa could finally pinpoint his location, but all she could do was watch as he stepped out into the moonlight. His eyes were shadowed by the hood of his coat, but his teeth flashed against the soft lunar shine. A blade glinted like a fang from his hand.

    A wave of dread washed over Misa. She could hardly breathe. Her lungs burned for air. Her heart constricted. “P-please,” she whispered. “Please, leave me alone.”

    The man laughed as if he enjoyed her fear. “So beautiful. How I want to carve into your skin. So smooth. Tell me, is the witch’s secret to beauty turning her skin into porcelain? Well, I’ll find out soon enough.”

    Something awoke inside Misa then. A pulse engulfed her, leaving her whole body tingling. As if empowered by a force, Misa pushed herself from the wall and approached the witch killer with a confidence she did not feel.

    “Are you really going to attack a helpless girl on the street?” Misa stood under the moon and gave a slight smile when she saw the man hesitate.

    “A witch. You’re really a witch!”

    “A witch, you say?” Misa tilted her head as if she never heard the term before. She gave a small pout. “Why would you say that about me? I’m hurt. Please, mister, I’m telling you the truth. Won’t you let me go?”

    The man stepped back in terror. “What are you doing to me? Witch! You’re a witch!” He dropped his knife. “Stop it! Stop this right now!”

    He gripped his heart and fell to his knees. “My heart! It’s pounding so fast. No, stop! Please, make it stop! My heart will explode. It’s beating too fast! Too fast!”

    Misa blinked in surprise. She took the opportunity to turn around and run. The killer screamed from behind her.

    “You witch! I’ll kill you! I have to kill you to make it stop!” His feet pounded against the ground.

    Terrified, Misa didn’t even glance back. She blindly continued to weave her way through the desolate part of the city. The man’s footsteps thumped louder. Misa’s heart leapt to her throat when she could feel the whoosh of the knife swinging right behind her.

    She cried out when the man pounced on her. Misa couldn’t breathe. Her knees scraped against the rough bricks. The killer tensed up as he drew his arms up to drive the knife into her back. A strangled choke escaped her when she attempted to scream.

    “Die, witch!” Manic laughter pounded into Misa’s eardrums. Tears prickled her eyes. Regret poured like water from a broken dam. This must have been the reason she was trapped in her room. She should have listened to her parents. She should never have left her home.

    Amidst the chaos, Misa heard a familiar yowl. The man grunted and yelled as if in pain. Something soft brushed against the back of Misa’s neck before the weight of the killer was lifted off her torso. Footsteps approached, quick and without hesitation.

    Misa managed to push herself up. A man emerged from the corner. His gray uniform brought Misa’s first thoughts to Torren. Then, she saw a flash of red on his shoulders and realized it was the captain. He paused next to her, examining her once before stepping forward to finish the job that Min-Min had started.

    The cat hissed at the killer before bounding over to Misa. Min-Min purred and rubbed her head against Misa’s tear-stained cheeks. The warmth of the small feline felt like a hearth in a cold winter blizzard.

    “Oh, Min-Min,” Misa sobbed. Relief released the power she had held to try to persuade the killer into letting her go, and she felt like her old self again.

    The captain stood when he had finished binding the criminal. Misa couldn’t help but notice how enormous he looked from her perspective on the ground. He was nearly as tall as Torren, and that was a feat not many Platheans could achieve. He stood with the confidence of a wild cat, graceful yet quick and deadly. His lawman outfit only served to make his presence even more imposing. He offered a hand, and it took Misa a few hesitant seconds to accept it.

    “Thank you so much, Captain,” she said with a slight bow. “You saved my life. How could I ever repay you?”

    Captain Bentham’s brow shot up. Up close, Misa could see how remarkably young he was despite his high rank. “So, you are familiar with the methods we use to distinguish our ranks? A friend in the purgehouse, perhaps?”

    Misa nodded. “Yes. Torren son of Borin the Blacksmith. Your first lieutenant.”

    “I see.” The captain grabbed his prisoner and forced him to stand. “Ervan the Tavernkeeper, you caused quite a stir in the purgehouse. You don’t know how much trouble you’ve given me over the past few months.”

    Ervan snarled, spittle flying from his mouth. Blood trickled from his cheeks from scratches Min-Min had left behind. “You don’t know what you’re doing, Royle. She’s a witch, I’m telling you! It’s her you want, not me! Isn’t that your job—to get rid of the witches? I’ve been doing all the work for you. You should be thanking me, not arresting me!”

    Misa scrunched her nose, disgusted at the man’s lack of remorse. She drew Min-Min closer, still feeling uneasy from her near-death experience. Ervan, being a heavy-set man, could have easily snapped Misa’s neck with one burly hand. She shuddered as she realized that had it not been for Min-Min, her life would have been cut short.

    “I can hardly say that killing seven innocent women is the work of the law. Come along, then. You can plead your innocence at the purgehouse. As for you, Miss,” the captain glanced over his shoulder, “I suggest you follow me. I’ll be willing to walk you back to your home after you give us your report.”

    Misa let Min-Min drop to the ground. “I can come with you to report what happened, but I would rather make my way home alone.” It was bad enough that she had stayed out all day, but Misa was afraid of what little freedom her father would smother if he found out she had almost lost her life.

    “It is not an offer,” the captain replied. “I will be taking you back to your residence, and when I do, I will have a little chat with your parents.”

    Misa paled. What could the captain possibly want to talk about with her parents? Her worst fears crept towards the edge of her mind. Chained in a dark dungeon as a real prisoner of her home. Sent away to an isolated tower that only a few knew the location of. How much would she lose? Her father had once threatened to cut off her ankles if she ran away from home. What if he decided to carry out that threat?

    A soft mew drew her out of her troubled thoughts. Misa had lagged behind. She watched the captain keep a firm grip on Ervan’s shoulders, ignoring the barrage of curses thrown at him and his family. He didn’t know her name. It was dark, so it was possible he didn’t even know what she looked like. If she snuck away now, he wouldn’t have the means to find her.

    As if sensing her thoughts, Min-Min shot away towards a darkened pathway. Misa halted and kept her eyes on the captain for a few more seconds before creeping towards her cat.

    This way, Min-Min seemed to say. She bounded towards a corner and paused to wait for Misa. The dark made the journey difficult to navigate, but as if sensing Misa’s disorientation, Min-Min would give an occasional yowl to announce her location.

    It wasn’t long before Misa could recognize the roads and houses. A weight lifted off her shoulders as she continued down the path towards her home. The street was eerily unfamiliar without the usual hustle and bustle of the day market. Misa couldn’t believe how relieved she felt when she finally spotted her home.

    Stopping at the brick walls, she crouched down to scratch Min-Min’s chin. The cat purred loudly and flicked her tail in pleasure.

    “I’m sorry I can’t feed you anything more today,” Misa said softly. “I promise I’ll give you some fresh meat the next time I see you. Goodbye, Min-Min. I’ll miss you.”

    Misa kissed Min-Min’s nose, then stood and gave a small wave before starting her climb. Now that she had returned to the familiarity of her home, she dreaded what waited her inside. Would her parents be waiting in her room, ready to pounce as soon as Misa snuck back in? Had they prepared the worst punishment because they thought Misa had run away from home?

    Her legs were heavy when she jumped into her backyard. She dragged herself to her bedroom window. Pitch blackness greeted her, and Misa felt a small seed of hope blossom in her chest. Maybe her parents hadn’t even realized she had gone. Maybe they thought she was having a particularly difficult day and decided not to intrude her room.

    Carefully, Misa pried open the window and hauled herself up. She landed on the floorboards with a soft thud, but she froze in case someone had heard. When the house remained silent, Misa used the wall to guide herself to the lamp that had been installed near the corner. She turned the knob, and warm, orange light brightened her room. She lit two remaining lamps and sat at her stool to stare at her unfinished painting.

    The ocean spread before her. White foam contrasted the deep blue. She still had to paint the sky, adding the brightness of the sunset and the softness of the clouds, but when she lifted her hand to grab the paintbrush, she had no will to finish the painting.

    With a sigh, Misa stood and gathered some courage to walk to her door. She leaned her ear against the cold wood before gently turning the knob. The hallway was empty. Misa’s heart dropped. She listened, and not a sound could be heard. She had never heard her house so quiet before. She could hear no soft murmuring of the few servants her parents could afford, no clatter of silverware at the dining room, and no commands coming from her father. Perhaps everyone had gone to sleep.

    Misa shook her head. Even late into the night, one or two servants had to stay up in case the Carpenters needed anything. No, this eerie silence must have meant that there was no one at the residence. Then where had they all gone?

    Stuck in deep thought, Misa made her way towards the cosy sitting room. There was no fire in the hearth, and though it wasn’t unusual, the place felt strangely empty.

    “Mother?” Misa called, though she suspected no one would answer. “Father? Elma!”

    As she expected, no one answered her calls. Unease settled into the pit of her stomach. What did this mean? Had she somehow wished away all those who stood in the way of her freedom? She dug into her satchel and pulled out the wrinkled bag that contained her purchase of the day. She turned it upside down and felt a weight drop into her hand. The wooden eagle stood on her palm, cool against her skin and wings spread out to soar the skies.

    Had the charm somehow sent away her family so she could be free like a bird? Something fell from the bag onto the ground with a thud. Surprised, Misa searched for the object and frowned when her eyes fell upon a wooden swan. She hadn’t recalled purchasing the swan. Had she unintentionally dropped it into the bag?

    Dropping the eagle back into the small bag, she reached down to grab the swan. Just as she had it within her grasp, she heard keys jingling at the front porch. Her fingers curled around the thin neck of the swan. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel the pulse against her throat. There was a click of a key turning against the lock. The knob turned; the door creaked open.

    Misa’s mother stepped inside first, eyes red from tears. She sniffled into a cloth and wiped her cheeks before she looked up.

    “Misa!” she exclaimed. She quickened her steps and threw her arms around Misa’s shoulders. “Where were you? We were so worried!”

    Her father came in next. His wrinkles had deepened in distress. At her mother’s call, he looked up, and his concerned brows shot up in relief then creased in anger.

    “Misa!” His tone held the authority Misa despised. She cringed as she anticipated his next words. “Where have you been? We put a little trust in you to stay in your room alone, and you immediately run away? You are not a child anymore! You cannot keep acting like one!”

    But his words were lost to Misa’s ears as she noticed a third person entering her home. His tall figure towered over her aging father. The gray uniform seemed to blend in with the walls, but a flash of red stuck out like a peacock’s feathers. There was no mistaking who he was.

    Captain Royle Bentham.