CHAPTER 9
A murmuring chant is heard in the distance, immediately catching Ignis's attention and snapping her eyes awake. Staring at the ceiling, she realises she is in a church. Ignis tries to sit up right but realises she is tied down – not by ropes, but by a spell. She struggles a few times, at first trying to heave herself up and then attempting a spell she once learnt as a child.
"You're pretty useless without your fire aren't you?" a voice echoes. Ignis squints across the room remembering the girl and her ice cold finger.
"What is this?" Ignis growls trying to move. The girl creeps closer, she is wearing a white dress. A specific dress that Ignis's coven used to wear for important events. Such as mass, weddings and … punishments.
"Tell me what is going on now!" Ignis shouts, trying to hide the fear that is beginning to bubble inside of her.
"You've caused a lot of problems for us Ignis, a lot of problems indeed." The curly haired girl walks close to Ignis who is strapped down on a wooden platform.
"I don't even know you! You stupid bitch! You have me confused with someone else!" Ignis yells, her voice attempting to be bold.
"We have been watching you for a very long time Ignis. Baffled, to say the least, at your capability. In normal circumstances, we'd ask for you to work beside us. But I think it's clear, after your second slaughter of a Coven, what the outcome would be."
Ignis turns her head, the group of people that surrounded her in the Quarter, are now dotted in the church. Mumbling a spell under their breath, sprinkling sea salt around the floor. Ignis recognises the spell— it's the punishment chant. They're going to sacrifice me.
"Who are you?" Ignis asks still trying to break free from the spell placed upon her. The girl doesn't respond to the question, instead she begins to join in the chant of the other witches and warlocks. The fear now peaking in Ignis's chest.
"Listen! I can help you! Like you said I'm powerful-!"
"You may be powerful Ignis" the girl adds "But together are more powerful." As the group of the super-natural beings form a line, repeating the spell Ignis realises what is going on.
"Ancestors?" Ignis whispers, tears raising to her red eyes. "No-no! Come ON! PLEASE DON'T!"
Slowly, the chanting becomes louder. Ignis lowers her head back onto the wood, trying to regain her breath. She can feel the witches vibrations coursing through her blood, extinguishing the fire in Ignis's chest. The hairs on Ignis's skin begin to rise and goose bumps prickle her skin like knives.
She feels cold. A sensation she hasn't experienced in a very long time.
The pain begins to fluctuate through her like a rocket grenade. The ice burning her skin, a type of pain she has never had before.
So much for immortal. Ignis attempts laugh, but she is gritting her teeth, yelling in excruciating pain.
She glances over. The curly haired girl is chanting, her black eyes staring at Ignis with a desperate pleasure.
Ignis's eyes begin to shut, the pain closing in on her like a bubble, her body tensing with agony.
As Ignis spasms, losing the last of her breath, she stares at the ceiling. Praying that Hell is a better experience than her two-hundred year existence on Earth.