Chapter 1: Escape from Despair

There was once an era where one of the darkest of times existed within a certain forest; times that were not dark because it lacked radiance in its atmosphere, which was still something someone would describe as nothing short of eerie or ominous.

No, this era was dark mainly because of the number of cruel deeds that had been taking place within that setting. There were several cases of kidnapping, murder, wars, crusades and so much more taking place within that area along as the times changed alongside it. Of the most recent, there was a near-tragedy.

The event involved two girls; both of whom had gotten themselves entailed into an act that not only contained hellish aspects, but also nearly resulted into depression for both of them. Oddly enough though, I actually knew both of them.

The parties involved in this occurrence were both young yet far from the coming of age. One of the girls was Viola, the other was Ellen, and just like I said before, I met both of them in some point in my life; not in the most favorable of circumstances, whether direct or not, but I knew them.

What's more interesting is who they were and how deep this connection truly was: Viola is the daughter of one of my friends, XX; Ellen, however, was the witch of the forest. However, little did I know, she was the same girl I met in my early adolescence, and now I was responsible for putting her down once and for all.

There were others before me that attempted to do the same thing, and they had failed, miserably so. Seeing that the organization had finally been fed up with it, they finally let me into the fray, saying that their patience dwindled drastically by the hour.

Killing that witch I particular used to be on the basis of morality; it was the morally correct thing to do. Not that it no longer is, but now people only take the initiative to do so for solely monetary gain. Heh, how the times have changed.

As the people before me failed to do so, either having died or failed, naturally, the expense of killing Ellen skyrocketed. It eventually went up to a point where it went into the upper echelon of bounty, where killing those kinds of bounty would set anyone for life. To me, that would mean I would finally be allowed to escape this path of dread I resigned myself to, but not without a price: losing the sight of the one goal I've always had on my mind.

Life as an executioner came with that price, discarding your humanity to put an end to things that can disturb the flow of said humanity. Even for myself, it was a price that I eventually regretted paying and even now having become utterly devasted over the years. Granted that the income was plentiful in this business, it came at that offensive price. I was used to selling my soul, and by extension, my humanity, albeit figuratively, for gain. I was indifferent to the amount of lives I took, but as the years went by, I ironically developed doubt in my mind; the feeling had been crawling at the back of my skull, begging my humanity to resurface in a world where humanity is seldom to begin with.

Even now, that still happens, though I try to suppress the thoughts about it and avoid looking back at it unless I have the time to. It'd be amusing if it didn't feel so painfully poetic. What I had been trying so hard to prevent, I nearly caused, to let happen; things had become full circle.

Back then, had I not been there to step in, to stop what was going on, then events that would follow would but take a more grievous turn; it would've been too late with the damage not only being severe, but above all, irreversible to not just me, but those I value and everybody else for years to come, resulting in chaos. Death would be too benevolent for people, as a scarring for life is something never worth experiencing – a lesson I learned through repetition.

But enough of this jaded philosophy, it was a bit of an unnecessary tangent. If I may, allow me to narrate the comeuppance that life sought out for me in that story that would ensue.


It was a midsummer's evening; a small storm brew as the winds surround the woods with a mild breeze. The woods were obscured by the shadows of its trees as well as the lack of radiance within the evening sky as the sun started to set.

Somewhere in the middle of these woods, a girl could be found. She sat on an aged log reading a piece of paper. It was a letter. Barely able to eye the contents the letter read as follows:

Dear Viola,

I'm sorry for yelling at you yesterday. There's an old legend that says a witch lives in the forest, and kidnaps children who get lost there. Your friend's house is very near the forest, so… I was worried about you. Your friend's name was Ellen, right? Well, I don't mind if you go out to play, but don't go too deep into the forest.

Hope to see you home soon.
Dad

Making no remark, Viola put the letter away, swiftly getting up and fleeing the area altogether. She continued to move, oddly calm given what she read. The night was getting darker by the second, so she didn't seem to want to waste time.

Eventually finding a startingly huge patch of roses blocking her way, Viola rummaged through the contents of her dress. She pulled out a tiny bottle of medicine and poured it on the roses.

Reacting to the contents of the bottle, the patch of roses withered away, sinking into the ground as if they were never there to begin with. With that, Viola just walked, not opting to waste time.

Almost there, there was just a simple but long path ahead of her. Keeping her emotions under control, she could feel the winds coursing through her golden-blonde hair, causing her twin braids to bounce as she continued to move. She could hear the sound of her brown leathery boots crunching against the branches as she did so; it was clear that autumn was nearing.

Suddenly, the sound of thunder startled her, causing her to pause in the middle of the road. She glanced upwards with her green eyes as she felt light rain pouring down onto her head. The feeling of the rain on her fair and smooth skin soothed her. However, it was quickly short-lived as she felt a shiver down her spine.

Viola turned around behind her, curious on what could possibly be trailing her. Amongst the sound of the rain, she could here the sound of somebody approaching. Their movement was slow, almost limacine, simply through how they traversed through the mud.

In the distance, a figure with long purple hair made its way to her. The figure felt the blood flowing down her face and could only imagine the bloody trail they left from the stumps where their legs used to be. They let out an incomprehensible moan as she stopped.

"Dhh… nha… tth… …gh …gh…"

Viola just watched, seemingly amused by this.

The figure continued to approach closer, continuing to moan in its hoarse voice. They went in the direction Viola stood, unable to actually see her due to it lacking eyes. The only things that were there were empty eye sockets that contained blood. One look into those would make the average person tremble in fear, as it felt like they would be sucked into them just by looking at them.

"…hh… ehp…"

Upon further inspection, the figure seemed like it had the body of a young girl, horribly mutilated past the legs. She was also shown to not only have a form of skin disease, but her complexion was also very pale and grotesque-looking, containing some bone that could be clearly seen past the skin.

Irked, Viola walked to the figure and upon coming close to it, spoke, "Just give it up already."

The purple-haired girl felt a knife pierce her stomach, spewing out further blood onto her already red one-piece that she wore over a white shirt that had seemed worse for were with the blood on some parts of it.

She laid there, in a near-death state, trying her hardest to move despite the fresh knife protruding her stomach. She looked like something that can barely be described as human underneath that decomposing body.

It was quite odd as to what was going on, as most people who assessed things based off cultural myths and stereotypes, would've run off. They wouldn't be wrong in doing so, however, despite the validity of such, it is also foolish to judge one's physical appearance with their affiliation; such preconceived notions on that basis made most people dense.

Neither of the girls knew, however, that somewhere on the other side of the trees adjacent to the two of them, a man stood, cloaked by the darkness resulting from the environment. He turned toward them, keeping his presence unknown. He tried his hardest to listen despite the somewhat undiscernible nature of the situation.

Staggered at the thought of seeing two girls out so late, in the forest despite the legend of the aforementioned witch, he jumped behind a nearby tree, still hiding his presence. He leant discreetly at its bark as he observed what he could. He intended to know firsthand as to what could be going on here at this time.

The man's description was hard to make out due to the forest being pitch-black and loud from the increasing drizzle pouring down. Likewise, he couldn't make out who was who in the darkness in front of him, only silhouettes. Hearing was also somewhat difficult as well due to the latter. In spite of his inability to properly assess what was there, he had some idea of what was going on.

Viola knelt down, speaking over to the girl, not changing her expression, "How long are you going to chase me? You know you're almost dead." She then chuckled somewhat; making it very clear that something was definitely off about her.

The disfigured girl tried to speak, hardly forming any words from her dry and damaged vocal cords but pushing forth to speak despite the futility, "…gghee… iff… …bbhh… akh…" sounding like a bit of a wailing animal. This was only on the surface though; while she was an abomination on the outside, she seemed to be in pain on the inside.

Despite the difficulty understanding what the girl was saying, Viola spoke up turning away, crossing her arms across her dress, "Hm? 'Give it back?' No way. I don't feel any pain in this body."

The words pierced the girl's ear. As much as she wished she could deny hearing them, she couldn't.

Turning around to face the girl again, the 13-year-old continued, walking towards the girl, "Besides, you're the one who gave it to me. Why should I have to give it back?", she knelt down to face her, placing her hands on her bare knees, "Right… …Viola?"

It was abundantly clear that these two had switch bodies; Ellen was actually in Viola's body and vice-versa. As if by sheer coincidence, the cracking sounds in the sky magnified with the rain escalating as well.

Ellen instinctively stood up as that happened, but not before letting out a rather triumphant smile, "You felt so sorry for me. I couldn't even move from my own bed. That's why I used my magic to trade bodies with you." She walked a couple feet away, "Just for a day? …Heehee. Maybe I did promise that."

The real Viola would had been trapped in that body could just listen, cursing herself for her inability to prevent this.

Soon, Ellen's tone changed to that of condescension before she turned to face Viola again, "I was surprised you could trap me in there… …but, to no avail. After all, it's my house. Why would it ever kill me?"

Viola began to squirm towards her old body, either uncaring or simply forgetful of the injuries that limited her mobility and functionality. She felt the urge to cry, asking herself why Ellen would, a girl she placed her trust in, that she defended, repay her kindness with such cruelty, asking it again in her head repeatedly. The feeling of her life slipping away from her made her feel like a stranger to her own world.

Her persistence made Ellen change her expression to that of annoyance, albeit briefly, "Still not dead? I have to applaud your tenacity.", before the former witch smiled again, knowing what to say, "Ah, maybe you're too worried about your father to die?"

Crushed by how right she was, Viola hissed at her attempting to grab her in anger. Ellen simply casually avoided her, stepping back a little before continuing, "Oh, I know all about you and your father, Viola. A close family of two. Those memories stayed in your body. He's a kind man. A hunter, isn't he? And he even sent you that letter. What a good father."

It was enough for Viola for gloat about her father, but the feigned sympathy on the witch's behalf just accumulated additional fuel to the fire. However, what Ellen said afterwards was the thing she felt the most hatred towards.

"So then, I suppose you're worried about what'll happen when you're gone?", Ellen said, furthering her sympathetic façade, "It'll be just fine. I'll make sure his daughter, Viola, gives him her share of love. And I'll take her share of love, too." She moved closer a little bit, whispering, "So just… ….die."

A voice echoed from behind Ellen, far behind her, calling out for someone, "Viola?!" Instantly recognizing the voice had belonged to her father – Viola's father. It was one coincidence too many. He seemed to have been searching for her for a while now, as he been somewhat drenched.

Hearing the sound of her father's voice, Viola felt joy that dissipated just as quickly as she felt it. She realized that she was anything but safe in her current situation because to her father, Ellen was Viola because of the switch. She knew she resembled some sort of monstrosity that was no longer human. What was she going to do?

Ellen deviously smiled before putting on another farce, one that was of fear and breathlessness. She let out a pretentious scream, something that was loud enough to grab the hunter's attention.

Responding to his daughter's voice, the hunter ran over to the direction the scream came from, eventually encountering what appeared to be his daughter. Out of breath, he asked Ellen, "Viola?! Are you safe?! Are you hurt anywhere?", not knowing she wasn't actually his daughter, at all.

Ellen simply ran behind him, simulating cowardice as she grabbed his strong arm. He became both confused and concerned for the situation, "Wh-What?! Why…"

As the body the real Viola resided in broke down even further, she began to crawl to her old man, trying to utter words, sentences, anything that she can vociferate with what was left of her throat, "Fh… fha… aa… th…", she tried with every fiber of her being to close the distance between them, slithering to at least touch him one last time before her time would come, with part of her hoping despite the futility that he would recognize her, "…hh …helh… pp"

The hunter panicked, cocking his gun at Viola, yelling off the top of his lungs with a voice so loud that the person behind the trees could hear it despite the noise from the weather from before, "S-STAY AWAY, MONSTER!"

"Monster?", the mysterious man thought, "That voice though…"

He assessed the situation, quickly piecing together a slight idea of what may have been going wrong. He readied himself to strike out and intercept but was quickly taken aback by instinctively not wanting to make a scene. He knew that the girl was considered a monster and a body switch had happened, however, he couldn't just blindly go in and make matters more convoluted than they already were.

"I can't intervene, not yet."

His eyes glowed a subtle red, showcasing his fury; he knew he had to intervene. His intuition told him that the situation should be fine as much as he didn't want to believe it.

"Daddy, please, it's me, your daughter. Please don't shoot.", Viola thought, ignoring reason as she still believed that would work. She couldn't reason with him in her current state, and even if she could, odds are he wouldn't believe her. The situation wasn't seeming favorable to her. She couldn't walk; she couldn't talk. She couldn't even see let alone move properly. On top of that, she still had Ellen's horrible skin disease. She was about to die.

The sound of bullets twice whistled through the air. The individual attempted to intervene, instinctively so; however, he averted the decision when he sensed something nearby, something inhuman. The situation was ambiguous to him; he didn't know whether to help or not, or how he could help.

Using whatever little magic she had left available, Viola withstood the bullets, using magic to discreetly reflect one of them – an act that only the yet-to-be-identified saw. However, this victory was short-lived when the second bullet penetrated her shoulder.

Out of magic now, her health began to rapidly decline as she felt the world around her dulling. She was in a state of near-death thanks to the nature of being a witch. At a glance, it seemed that her soul had moved on and she appeared dead.

Ellen and Viola's father promptly left the area soon after, with the former giggling behind the latter as she conveyed her thoughts, "Ahh, I see. Seeing your own father fail to notice you. That's what finally pushed you over the edge of despair, wasn't it, Viola?"

She wasn't wrong, Viola would have been pushed over the edge of despair, but something could be heard in her head. Though faint, her dying body could hear a voice.

"Stay put and stay sharp, I'll get you out of this. Just act natural."

"What does it mean by such?", Viola thought, "It's hopeless to think about. So hopeless my mind is starting to play tricks on me."

Some time later, after the duo had left, the man came out of hiding, but not before noticing something crawling out of the bushes in the opposite direction of where the body lay. It revealed itself to be a black cat, reacting rather casually to the near-dead corpse of Viola. Eyes glimmering with malevolence, it was clear to him that this was no cat at all, but a demon disguised as one.

Approaching the damaged body of the witch, it let out a grin unnatural for a cat to have, baring its teeth. It spoke with a rather cool yet boyish voice, "Yo, guess that this is the end, isn't it? I really wished you would put on more of a show for me but at the very least I can devour another hard-earned soul after all this trouble."

Viola began to feel herself fading away, "Is this the end? Perhaps it is, I have nothing to live for anymore. Alas, I can at least hope to die peacefully."

She remembered what that voice told her, causing her to snap back to her senses. The voice, she heard it before somewhere; she found some odd solace in it, realizing she wanted to live, "No, no it can't be the end. Not yet. This can't be my final resting place. Daddy, please forgive me for whatever trouble I have caused you… just… please… please… SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME!"

The cat demon suddenly found himself stopping in his tracks as the rain began to fizzle out. His expression darkened, making him appear more like a demon than he usually would. Viola could sense that he wasn't composed like he usually was, meaning something else is there; something that spells bad news to him.

He could feel himself trembling with all kinds of emotions: fear, anger, hesitation among other – something demons don't seem to do, at least himself as Viola understood him. She realized whatever was there, no, whoever was there must've been awful for a demon like him to ever cross.

The presence made the demon shift from his usual demeanor, changing his voice to a more vicious and demanding one.

"Who goes there? This is my hard-earned payoff, get your own. Do you not know the rules about us demons being territorial with contracts and contractors?"

"As if daft rules ever mattered to me.", the man thought, readying himself as he got out of hiding; the darkness obscuring his figure rather well.

For a few seconds, nothing happened; nobody seemed to be present there – a situation that urged the demon to look closer, seeing if another entity was present. It seemed that there was none.

Before he could be arrived though, he witnesses a sudden fire illuminating behind where the body lay, blazing with diabolic flames and black mist as its radiation emitted through the darkness. Seconds later, without having time to react, the large fireball was flung at the cat.

Not that he intended to dodge the attack, anyway, given his pride as a demon. He let the blast scorch him, causing him to shriek in pain, hissing in horror as he felt himself vaporizing in his soul.

It was as if the cat's entire body and soul was attacking itself, being torn apart at the core from the outside as well as the inside; as if the spirit was attacking his body. In that sense, these searing flames were rather unique, able to deliver a phantom pain that cannot truly go away.

"Fire is not supposed to hurt our kind unless its Hellfire.", he backed down defensively, his eye melting as the dark flames continued to consume him, "How though? Unless…no, not him. ANYONE BUT HIM!"

The demon cowered in fear of his life for once, "A man worse than us demons, the BANE of our existence. The BEAST that we demons despise so much. That monster… is the worst kind of death to befall any demon…"

He heard stories about this person, having lost both friends and adversaries to him and him alone. It didn't occur to him though that he would exceed his expectations face-to-face. Feeling fatally wounded and disappointed that his long contract didn't payoff, the cat begrudgingly fled the scene.

As he was gone, Viola felt a moment of reprieve. This was temporary though, as the young man, who had been watching the entire scene until now – the same individual that scared off the demon – came closer. The sound of his footsteps could be heard approaching her.

She felt her relief transform into uncertainty as he did so; she didn't know if she could trust this man, this being, that if he was friend or foe.

"He did drive the cat away, but I don't know if I can trust him. He did say he'd help me but at what cost?", she thought.

He stopped right in front of her, kneeling down as he examined her. His felt like she had felt his touch before, though she can't quite remember when she may have met him, or if she even did. Perhaps it was her imagination.

"He… Hee… Heel…p… me...eh...", Viola said sheepishly, feeling anything would be better than her current situation.

"Not another word", the man said in a way that made her feel safe. His voice was rather deep, though rather dry; not without emotion though, "You're safe now; I won't hurt you and make sure no further harm will come to you. So just relax."

She began to shake uncontrollably, feeling that a prayer of hers has been answered. The man urged Viola to calm down as his eyes stopped glowing red, revealing their true color as the clouds made way for the night sky. They were a deep shade of gray. Though they lacked radiance and emitting an aura of apathy and indifference, the man put his hands over her cheek, wiping her tears away.

The intensity of his gaze made him appear unsettling; though there may be more to him than meets the eye.


A/N:I know this seems jarring. But please see my profile for extra info on this. If you need the short version, I'm redoing this story since I now have a very clear direction in mind now.