"Put this on your back twice a day and I will ensure you the pain will go away." Felicity Jones explains. She gives the pot of cream to the elderly man. "Any questions Mr Donaldson?"

"No." Mr Donaldson shakes his head and smiles at the woman. "Thank you."

"You won't have to use that walking stick after a few week or two. You will be fully healed."

She smiles bright at him.

The old man looked speechless yet grateful. Hope filled his eyes.

"The thought of not using this..." He raises his wooden walking stick. "That would be a miracle."

"Performing miracles is what I do everyday Mr Donaldson."

Mr Donaldson excitedly puts the money on the table and the cream into his bag.

"Twice a day?"

"That's right sir." Felicity nodded.

"Got it. Have a lovely evening Miss Jones."

"Felicity." She beams at him.

"Felicity." He puts his hat on. "I hope I come back with good news."

"I'm sure you will."

He again nods at her and turns to walk to the door. Felicity runs to the door and opens it for him. He kindly thanks her and leaves. Felicity shuts the door and swaps the open sign to close.

Another satisfied customer. She thought proudly.

Felicity picks up the books and puts them in the shelves. The books all had witchcraft, spells and enchantments written across it. People thought Felicity was a shopkeeper who sold alternative medicines but she was more than that. Felicity is a white witch who uses her magic to heal the sick.

Felicity loved her job. The smiles from the customer's faces warms up her heart. She checks through the jars of herbs and spices and the bottles of potions before grabbing the broom and sweeping the floor.

The bell rings followed by a slam by the door.

"We're closed." Felicity spoke not looking to see who it was. She hears heavy breathing come from behind her. The witch sighs "I said we are closed..." She stops as her eyes set on the new arrival.

Looking back at her was a figure dressed in black. Only the eyes showed. The figure towered over her. The figure was tall and slim and in its hand was a long, golden sword with a diamond on the top. The figure gripped on to the sword and glared at the witch.

Felicity's eyes widen.

"Impossible." She takes a step back. "You don't exist." The figure takes a step forward with their sword raised. Felicity stumbles and nearly falls into the cardboard boxes. "YOU ARE NOT REAL." She cried.

Felicity blasts a fire-ball at the figure. The fire-ball bounces off the sword and heads straight towards the witch. Felicity jumps out of the way and the ball of fire hits the shelves.

Flames rose burning the wood and Felicity's most beloved items. The figure chuckles. A low male chuckle that sent shivers down the witch's spine.

Felicity looks up at the swordsman. Fear appears on her face.

"You are real?" She whispered.

The sword slams down into the ground. Felicity rolls over missing the sword by a few inches. She stands up and runs into the storage room.

"Clauseruntque." She chants.

The door shuts and locks. The witch backs away as she hears the swordsman pound on the door.

Felicity didn't know what to do. She knew she had a bounty on her head now. This man was going to keep coming after her until the job was done. This is a witch's worst nightmare. That thing outside is what scared the witches when they were kids. It was a child's scary bedtime story.

She had to warn the Elders.

Felicity closes her eyes and spreads her arms out. Her eyes open and slowly turn white as snow. The energy drains out of her and she collapses on the ground.

She looks at her hands in shock. She knew the enemy outside. His presence was weakening her.

The door falls in front of the witch. The swordsman steps in his shadow looming over the witch.

Felicity looks up at him knowing where this was going. She closes her eyes as she felt the sword go right through her heart.

A white glow travels from Felicity going into the sword. The diamond glows white as it consumes the witch. The swordsman rips the sword out and lets the now decayed body fall face first into the ground.

He twists the sword admiring its work before sprinting through the door into street.

Purple smoke rose and engulfed the swordsman. The smoke vanishes bringing him along with it.

He was gone.