Summary: The witch of the waste is a powerful witch indeed and terrifies her kingdom with her powers. She requires blood to sustain her life and feeds monthly…But, once every 500 years she must have the blood of a maiden that will grant her youth once more.
Disclaimer_ I do not own any characters…only the plot in which I set them in^_~
Where art thou freedom?
Chapter I~ The meeting in the dark…
The sky was as grey as the forgotten ashes in her fireplace, moody and sullen. Sophie looked out the widow into the near darkness of the dusk. Blood red were the clouds surrounding the setting sun. It was a sign they said, a testament to the will of the witch of the waste. For one night, every month she would feed on one young soul and drain them till their last drop. It seemed the only way she could survive was eating the hearts of mortals. Every month another was chosen to satisfy her lust and then she would feed. Every time they would be around the ages of 15 to 20 and were known horrifyingly as 'the ripe years' to all mothers and father raising their young children. Her statue stayed in the courtyard surrounded by deep purple roses. Even with it being just a statue the features were frighteningly erotic and alluring to any gender. That is why once you were within her grasp you could never escape and would fearfully never want to once she had hold of you. She was rumored as the Crimson Seductress, but her maiden name was The Witch of the Waste.
The reason why was in the back of the castle, there was twenty acres of land that was protected by tall stone walls. They were nearly 15 feet high with chiseled pictures of demons with teeth open and their twisted tongues forever screaming in stillness. A stone dome was positioned on top so that it took a horrifying shape of an enormous tomb. And it was said that is where the dead lay. All the victims of her lust for blood and youth piled high. Souls of children trapped for all eternity in rot and decay. And every month one the first, all would shut their windows and doors and never leave their homes till the next day. The night before day brake of the 1st day, the witch of the waste would open the doors to the tomb to lay the next fallen dead and the stench from decades upon decades of rotten flesh would suffocate even a grown man. People were even so smart as to craft bags filled with air in there homes with masks just in case the only air they had in their homes became stale.
As the night grew in she saw the petals of the flowers she had in her garden wilt slightly as she turned from the window with a sigh. She made use of her time knitting the holes in a guard's uniform. She was a seamstress. She had a business making clothes for her town's folk and her skills eventually reached the castle and now she had the duty of making and repairing uniforms and clothes. Even given designs for the new wardrobe for the witch. She was disgusted at the thought of the woman but she had no choice now. Sophie had respectfully declined the duty asked of her and in her doing so the witch of the waste cursed her into the form of an old woman and still gave her charge of her new duty. She would only turn back to her normal form for only one night. The night of the waxing crescent moon. That was of course four days from now. She always yearned for night her bones would not creek and her eyes would be more sharper. But the agony was that since she would stay at that same age of an old woman of 50 or 60, when her true form came only then would she actually age and since she was mostly and old woman and not her youthful self, it seemed as if she would never age, never die. A wretched immortality indeed. In reality the next waxing moon would make her 330 years old exactly, but her calculating her youth, she would just be turning eighteen.
Sophie had finally finished the sleeve of the uniform as she stood up and dusted her apron unconsciously and tidied the two braids in her hair but thought against it and took the out knowing it would soon be time for bed anyway. Her long silver hair came down to her waist as he set a kettle over the fire to prepare her tea. The smell of lotus and honey filled the room as she looked to one of her only companions….a bookshelf. Stories of fantasy and worlds beyond her own wretched one. The only thing that lit up her heart. She oddly picked up a book of Thumbelina as she poured her cup of tea and sat near the widow's ledge. Taking a sip she turned the pages.
She was just at the part where Thumbelina had found her dead friend the bird when a movement outside the window caught her eye.
"The poor animals…." She sighed. "I'm amazed they can even stand the…." Her eyes widened at the terrifying scene. It was a man! She watched in horror as she saw him scratching at the bark of a tree, grabbing at his neck. She stood up so quick her book went flying and the cup of tea spilled all over the floor as the porcelain broke on the hard wood floor. She ran over to the closet as quick as her old legs could and grabbed two leather oxygen bags about the size of a sack of potatoes. She ran to the front door as she opened it and closed it. She was in a small 4 by 4 room as she put the mask to her face. Opening the outer door closing it quickly behind her the sting hit her eyes as tears flowed from them. She looked at the direction of the man as she sprinted with all her might to his side. His blonde hair was mated everywhere and his fingers were digging so hard in the bark they were bleeding a little. Sophie quickly grabbed the back of his neck and the man began to fight her but stopped as she put the mask to his face as she watched him inhaled deeply. She had to get him back before he breathed it all in. She put his arm over her shoulders as she led him to the house.
"I thank you old woman," she heard his muffled speech in the mask.
"Don't mention it…youngling," she smirked back at him.
Taking him to the 4 by 4 room, she pressed a button as filtered air blew at the two and went out the little holes that appeared in the very front door as they closed and she opened the door leading inside. She went to put him on the couch but he suddenly fell from her rasp and landed on the floor. She went to get him up but her jaw dropped as she held her head with her shaky wrinkled hand and covering her mouth with the other.
On the floor he lay limp and unmoving as part of his shirt was covered in blood…
Hmmmm...lol I know its short but that the start to get ya going lol LOVE teasers^^ Side note: I am planing on making this a long story. I have a lot of ideas to go with this but any feedback would be great. If anybody has any ideas throughout the story for a horrific scene, romantic, funny, or tragic I am all ears. Again I do have my own plots to carry but I think its cool to mix and match ideas. Makes the story come out more interesting especially if you have a hand in in right? lol Well reviews greatly appreciated.