Death's acquaintance
3 part story. Sadly, Even Witches die, Young and old. So Death will come to Cackles Academy. Well eventually.
A/N: Maybe Cackles is on The Disc, who knows. A story in three parts beginning middle and end. Well for the moment. Or When I finish the next bit I'll edit it into a great big one-shot. Much as I'd like to right an epic as long as the Discworld and The Worst Witch combines for now it's staying yay long. Bit Dark sorry. I've also the horrible feeling I've gotten several details wrong but reading though I can't place whereabouts so feel free to point.
Characters belong to Jill Murphy (plus the writers for TV series) and Terry Pratchett and I hope I do them justice. Enjoy…
Had anyone else seen the girl there they might wept or run screaming for help. But no one else had entered in the now locked room for what must have been a long time. The girl herself had been crying, possible in pain although she'd given up calling for help. She lay there alone, cold and tired, almost broken on the stone floor, eyes still streaming, her limbs at painfully funny angles and wondered whether her mind was playing tricks on her as someone steeped out of the shadows towards her.
She wouldn't have been able to see him if not for his eerie other worldly glow. He dressed a clock that emulated darkness and shadows, buckled with a silver clasp at the neck. At his side he carried a scythe its blade so thin it was almost see-though but looked sharp enough to cut though diamonds and mountains like butter. By the light reflected off the blade she could underneath the hood, was a skull. He was, as it were, a skeleton.
She didn't seem surprised to see him. The fact she could see him and hadn't questioned why he hadn't used the door surprised him.
"So-" she croaked, testing her voice "- are you-?"
YES. His silent voice echoed loudly in her head. There was a pause before she spoke again.
"Am I going to- to …?"
The young witch left the sentence unfinished. Death didn't answer.
By now the reaper was at her side, carefully moving so as not to stand on her long hair that fanned haphazardly matted with dark liquid about her, as though that would cause her more discomfort, his sheer seven foot height exaggerated by the poor girls worms eye view of the world. Deep brown eyes gazed back at up him, unshed tears leaking from the comers of her eyes and ran sideways down her face. Almost defiantly she tried to swipe at them with her better arm, still watching him. She was young, little older then ten perhaps thirteen at a push but this child's soul was aged beyond her years.
Not only had she landed badly from such a long fall, (gravity undecided whether to be on her back front or side so had let the body agree to disagree) but something possibly glass had cut into her still paling skin, its colour draining as her blood pooled about her mixing with what ever had been in the bottles she'd been carrying, the useless arm snaked about it's cracked neck. To accompany the image was the sound track, shallow hissing breathes like geriatric smoker, suggesting the girl only had one lung working and even that was at half capacity doing overtime on a late shift for minimum wage.
In short, she didn't look at all well.
Raising his head from the girl Death looked about him and his surrounding. The place was large. Tall wide, dark dank and underground. In front of them; the staircase which the girl had obviously had her tragic encounter with gravity and hit every stone step on the way. The door at the top had been closed behind her on her trip and let no light though, and there were no windows or light source bar the unlit candle brackets and that of his own. The cellar was filled with shelves and the shelves where filled with neat rows and rows of glass, all labeled and of all shapes sizes and possibly colours though it was unable to tell what they where as everything appeared an inky black. It reminded him of his domain, only with bottles rather then time pieces. All it was missing was the sound of draining sands.
WHERE ARE WE?
"The potion stores. She pushed me." the girl hiccuped unnerved by the silence, and the way Death's light was bounding off the jars making her vision swim. "I think it was an accident-" but she started but that was all she could mange. Even though she was sure it hadn't been planned it didn't explain why she'd just been left there. Particularly by a member of staff. Hardly the dignified way to go, she thought bitterly. She remembered the tutor had her sent down to the dungeon store and must supposedly have been locked in as some form of twisted test or a joke but she'd run back up the stairs faster then expected. There'd been a scuffle and then-
"Mr Grim, Sir, -it hurts. Can you- make it stop. Please?"
It was impossible to read Death's expression. Well it's hard to read any ones expressions when they've no lips eyebrows or even muscles but despite his fixed grin she was sure room had darkened a little as the pinpricks of blue light in the eye sockets narrowed for a moment then widened his head tipped to one side in an almost pitying way. In pity for her and humanity.
She wished he hadn't. Everything else hurt she'd didn't want to leave need a ruddy great bruise on her pride as well. Only the weak were pitied and pity was patronizing. She didn't want to die like this.
In a last ditch attempt to make her self look halfway presentable for Death her crossed her arm in across her chest. Frustrated the other wouldn't comply, she carried on as dignified as she could, her working fingers aching slowly in to an odd gesture. He copied her hand signal, turning his bones this way and that before his face, curious to its meaning. The child had screwed her eyes up tight and now murmured something, jargon, but it caused waning sparks flickered at her finger tips.
LATIN? The reaper mused, watching her.
She nodded and attempted to straiten herself out. It seemed to hurt to do so, but as the spell worked its magic she seemed to become more sure of herself. Her uniform becoming freshly pressed, her face and scraped knees where cleaned while her wavy mass of dark curls magically brushed them selves free of blood and slimy potion. the blue light bouncing off her hair reminding Death of underwater torch light made seaweed dance at the bottom of the ocean he'd once seen, although he hadn't stopped to admire it long, what with that client having being tied to a cannon ball and thrown over board.
Susan had had hair like that when she was younger, he thought as the curls began of there own accorded to weave and braid them selves almost merrily into a long scalp tight plait. Only white.
The magic completed the girl opened her eyes and looked up expectantly at the skeleton. Death agreed and raised his Scythe. Time to go. At least now with a little more dignity. It seemed fitting her last words where to be a spell, even if it was something as trivial as one to sort her appearance.
SORRY. YOU MAY WISH TO CLOSE YOUR EYES AGAIN. The child complied. She heard a humming swish of the blade as it cut though the air above her, a cool welcome breeze across her. She imagined what it would feel to be a soul separated from it's body and suddenly there where faint voices up above getting slowly louder and the girl wondered if she'd ascended to the heavens and the voices she heard where the voices of angels. Angels with screeching laughs, who gossiped and used slang. Maybe she'd gone to hell then. Certainly sounded like it. But its cold and she couldn't smell any brimstone or sulfur. Just damp.
ODD.
She blinked. She was still on the floor although the pain seemed to have subsided some what. A lot in fact. As if some one had turned the flame down on the gas stove. Not numb just, not there. Was this good or bad she wondered. She was dead, alive, a ghost, in limbo? Perhaps this would be only the first part of the journey. She hadn't even been able to say good bye to her cat.
Death looked at down at her, then at his scythe then with his free skeletal hand reached under his clock and removed a what looked to be one of many hourglasses that hung about his middle on the tight belt. This one was emblazoned with her name.
I THINK THERE HAS BEEN… A MISTAKE.
You mean, I'm not dead? She tried to say. Even though no real words came out, the reaper understood purely on her expression. He'd rare seen it but he'd seen it often enough. He knelt down on bended knee beside her, holding the timer up in front of her so she could see it.
NOT YET, NO. YOU WERE DYING. He explained and tapped on the glass again this time to illustrate his point. Inside the top half a few single grains of sand had stubbornly wedged them selves in the next sticking on to the glass, and ironically, clinging for dear life.
BUT IT SEEMS SOMEONE HAS OTHER PLANS. OTHERS WILL INTERFERE. THEY'VE CHANGED YOUR FATE. I DID WONDER BUT- IT HAPPENS.
The girl was confused. A little "Oh." was all she managed. Those tiny specs where all that was keeping her in the world of the living. She thought she was going to faint, especially the reaper turned her glass upside down and shook it. It glowed like a sunrise for a moment then he righted it some more sand was in the top and began to trickle into the bottom. some of the sand, some of unknown amount of minutes or years where reassigned back to the girl extending her timeline. He turned back to her, a grin
If Death had expected thanks and a smile he was disappointed. Well disappointed wasn't quite the word. Baffled? Yes baffled would do. He'd hardly thought she would miraculously leap to her feet, hug him and invite him to dinner. But fresh tears were falling and not the happy kind. He felt bad. True it was part of the job but this was after giving life back and given time (which she now had,) her wounds would heal. Surly a good thing so why was the girl in such distress? What would a person do in this situation other then hide under a rock? Actually no that was wood lice. People always reassured one another things where going to be okay even if they aren't. He cleared his throat arwkquadly trying to find the right words to say. Or made the skeleton's equivalent of the action and merely say AH-EM loudly.
THERE, THERE. He said trying to be comforting and patting her hand. THERE, THERE IT WILL BE ALRIGHT.
She flinched but took his bony finger, well, bones in her hand and squeezed it and then quickly dropped it again. After a moment, Death stood, straitened up and added the hour glass back to his belt wondering if he ort to leave now (he still had more people to visit and he'd left Binky double parked) but decided against it at least until the girl was found which couldn't be to long now. After all what where a few minutes when you are infinite.
She was still crying although she wouldn't look at him and she'd turned her head as much as she could away from him wiping them away faster then they could fall. Yet she'd had seemed to accept him and the situation before. In fact she almost wanted it and yet there was an edge in her gaze that made her look as if she would have runaway in terror from him if she could walk. It puzzled him how some humans reacted to him like that. Now the witch didn't seem to believe what she was hearing. She'd live. Good news perhaps, but bad news was it already felt like a half life, a cursed life.
DID YOU WANT TO DIE? The question was part curiosity part making sure he'd done the right thing which was also part to ease his mind and part to make sure the girl wasn't going to throw herself down another flight of stairs after wards.
"No." she hissed. "Jusst." Another pause. "Esc-ape." Death nodded. She sighed. In frustration or relief he couldn't tell.
I feel dead…Given his own mouth didn't move much, Death was not good at lip reading so read her thoughts instead. Amongst the fears and regrets was one plea, ringing clear as bell in her muddled head.
Please
You'll give me a warning before won't you?… Well, if you're not too busy.
"Promise- me."
For along moment he thought about it, then nodded. The girl smiled a small smile, relived and finally slipped into unconsciousness. Not dead. Only sleeping. The voices quite unlike a flock of angels came nearer and just as the door opened, Death took his que to leave...