Cursed Chapter 1

by sunsetorsunrise

Brittany is a witch - but not the type of witch you would think. She was sent down here for a reason, which will soon become clear to her as others try to fight her and stop her from making any progress. The woman she's chosen as her mother however, will not let Brittany's peril continue.

Prologue~

I have been in this darkness for so long. Trying to remember, what is my name? Where am I? I do not know the answer to any of these. In fact, I have been in the darkness for so long, all I can remember, is trying to remember.

Until someone lets out the water and it all comes flooding back…

~1~

The water is released by a man, tall, armour on, sword in hand, stunned, scared, angry. I know why he is like this, why the crowd is like this also. Maybe they are right, maybe I am a curse.

I step out of the tank, I don't even need to gasp for air, and check if I remember everything. Name, Leona, age, 16, where am I, London- before I can continue I am pelted with stones by the crowd, they pelted me once before when I was in the form of a black cat. They hate me, do not even give me a chance. I let them throw, 'throw as hard as you can' I think. Throw until you finally realise I cannot be killed. I do not want to hurt people, what if I could use my magic for the greater good? Would they accept me then? I do not know.

Some still stare in awe as I stand still whilst having rocks thrown at me. I do not feel the pain if I focus enough. I control my blood stream, freezing my entire body while they throw and throw, as hard as they can, they want me dead, however it is not possible.

I am not the first one they have tried to kill. They cannot kill us as long as we know what we are doing. Younger children have been the most unlucky, lives lost every day, the same routine. Everyday.

Every single day.

I dwell on the words, anger rising in my chest, bleeding into my blood, and seeping into my muscles, my muscles that are held out in front of me as though strangling someone, that someone twenty metres away. The head guard, in his chair foreseeing my execution, foreseeing every execution of my kind. I am overwhelmed by my anger and hatred. I continue to strangle him even though I know I am just proving him right to have tried to kill us all. I hold on tight. Until there is nothing left to hold onto.

I feel his weight against my hand and drop him carefully against his chair. I feel slight regret but not as much as I feel accomplished. I just killed the man who was killing us all, not giving us a chance, not caring, just watching us, children, adults, elderly, drown in the tank, or if they survive that, be pelted to death by stones until they choose to give up their souls and go home.

That is why I cannot be killed. I chose to come here. I choose when I want to leave.

For now though, I have destroyed our main threat. I stand in my feat as the first snowflakes of early winter fall to the ground; I would say from the sky but I know what they represent.

Each snowflake, delicate and brittle, indicates one act of sin from the past year. Every piece of hail, strong and deadly, is a symbol for each of the worst sins; murder, terrorism, and disbelief in anything, it does not matter what you believe but everyone must believe in something.

They flow down, down to the fire. The snowflakes have been forgiven up above but are welcomed in the fire; they will get their choice when the time comes. That is what people do not understand, hell welcomes those who sin, and there is no punishment for evil down there.

I now have added to the hail, but I am a 'witch' as they say here, I am excused.

I use half of what is left of my energy to switch to my form as a cat, black, slender, and swift with a white blaze on each of my ears, and use the other half of my energy to run home.