Chapter 9
Ghost to My Madness
AN: Alright, here's the next chapter. I hope you all like it. Sorry for the delay, but had a hard time deciding how to proceed with this chapter. And, I hope this answers some of your questions posted in the reviews from the last chapter. Keep sending me any questions you may have regarding this story, and review! Review is love, and I like feeling the love. Lol. Thank you again!
Fiyero stood, rigid within the silent confines of his bedroom, the sickening, twisted sound of flesh smacking violently against flesh still echoed within his ears, hanging like a silent ghost within the swirl of darkness and light. His hand, which had remained placid by his side, fists, and trembles with each heart-wrenching beat of his heart. The images, the ghosts, the phantom figures dance a decadent dance in the sweet symphony of the silver snow of time and mysts, before his eyes, spur the rage burning low within the deep confines of his stomach, ignite, plume upwards into a bravura of roaring orchid flames of anger, to spread and ricochet within his body, and end at the tips of his fingers.
His anger billowed in time with the icy wind, roaring outside; set in tempo to the furious beating of his heart now jackhammering within the solid confines of his chest. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the emerald walls surrounding him. The green hue, beautiful yet haunting, only made the rage dwelling within him to burn brighter, a ferocity which would have scared anyone. For the green was the same ethereal color to the woman who suffered silently, within the dark chambers of Southstairs, a fallen angel, beaten and molested by the flames of vengeance.
A sudden thought, quivered within his mind. If she was as powerful as Morrible claimed, powerful enough to even heal a fatal stab wound given to her by the petite witch, then how, or why, did she not fight the guards? Surly, she would have been able to not only knock the guards away, let alone kill them where they stand, but also been able to free herself from Southstairs. After all, Galinda and Fiyero were not there in the hellish domain all the time, nor were the guards posted by her cell round the clock either.
Unable to find the answer to his quagmire, Fiyero let a roar of anger rip free from his throat, as the images of the beaten green woman flash before his eyes. Her body, lying twisted, mutilated on the cold cement ground of her feces covered cell. Her long raven hair spread out before her, like an ebony hallo. Blood mixed with the men's fluids sparkled, in an almost sadistic pink hue, spread like the great sea of Chorge, over her flesh, covering, and tainting the beauty of her emerald skin. The darkness once flooding her eyes flickered back and forth, allowing small stabs of chocolate to stare hauntingly out at the mold covered walls.
At one point, whilst one guard was having his way with her, Elphaba's eyes flickered towards the darkness. Both Fiyero and Galinda held there breathe, waiting, watching. Fiyero at one point conjectured whether or not Elphaba was able to see them in the pitch darkness. In that infinitesimal moment, Fiyero could have sworn that a small flicker of recognition and fear, had flashed within her eyes, but even that disappeared as the emptiness once again flooded her eyes, drowning out the majestic hue of warm chocolate. Making her look hallow, and haunted.
Yero
The sweet, sadistic symphony of his temper finally reached its crescendo. Unable to hold back the violent tide, crashing against his subconscious, Fiyero stormed up to the wall and punched it, as another roar of anger ripped through his throat.
For a few moments Fiyero stood glaring at the wall, his dark sapphire eyes narrowed, as his fist remained almost cradled within the deep concaved dent he had somehow managed to make. After all, the walls as well as the rest of the Palace, was made from solid emeralds.
Slowly, small streams of crimson streaked across his fist; cracking into different fissure lines across the now split flesh. The skin of his knuckles had been ripped away.
Yero…help me
Growling, Fiyero stepped away, and spinning around, slammed his back against the wall. A small groan slipped past his lips, before his bleeding, broken fingers clutched the sides of his head, as the last remnants of her voice, echoed within his mind. His dark sapphire eyes lost the flames of his rage, and instead, sparkled with unshed tears of hate, and frustration, as he stood there, back pressed against the wall, the bangs of his hair sweeping gently across his forehead.
A thought, fleeting, like a shooting star streaked across the heavens of night, flickered within his hazy mind. His head snapped up, his dark sapphire eyes stared wide into nothing, as the tips of his fingers, slowly slid down his face.
Slowly, he takes a few tentative steps away from the wall as his mind raced. The look, the warmth in her eyes, the spark, it was her. For that brief moment in time, Elphaba, his Fae, had somehow returned!
Somehow, she had clawed her way out of the darkness, reached her fingers out into the endless abyss, praying, crying for someone strong enough to reach her, to pull her out of the ebony waterfall of hell.
He knew it seemed ridiculous, even to himself, as he kept repeating that one simple phrase, and yet, he knew, that it was true, for the warmth, the familiar glow that he had first fallen in love with had returned, silently telling the Prince, pleading with him, to not interfere.
A hard gasp slipped past his lips as his stomach twisted, and bile rose within his chest. Weakly, he stumbled back, his arms instinctively wrapping around his stomach. The world spun as his stomach gave an almost sickening lurch. His legs wobbled, screaming a silent warning in the chilled air to their imminent collapse by gravity's force.
She knew what she was doing! She returned, somehow, gaining control over her body. That's why she hadn't made an attempt at escaping the hellish confines of Southstairs! She was receiving the punishment she thought she deserved!
His mind snapped, as he twisted back around to face the wall. His vision spiraled towards the floor as the rage that had dimmed within his fractured soul, ignited once more.
"Fae you stubborn, infuriating bitch!" roars Fiyero. With each syllable escaping his tight lips, he pounds his fist in time with the wall.
"Why…why…why….why!" His voice, loud and full of passion, slowly fades into a soft whisper of the wind as the rage slowly dwindles back into the softness of the night.
Spinning back around, Fiyero's legs finally give, allowing his weakened, broken body to collapse to the ground. Hanging his head, the tears he had fought so hard to keep from spilling, slowly dance down his darkened features, as he silently berates himself.
How, how in Oz could he just stand there, hidden safely within the shadows, as the woman he loved, was being raped and beaten but a few feet away. How could he stand frozen, whilst she silently took the brutality of her sins, alone?
His heart broke just a little bit more, as the answer to his question, continued to echo within his fractured mind. He was a coward, plain and simple. For only a coward, would stand by and allow such horrors to befall the person they loved. Though Fiyero; even in the cell, kept reminding himself, that if he and Galinda were to reveal themselves to the guards, then they too, would have received the same brutal kiss at the ends of the whip.
There simply was too much at stake, to allow emotions to drive their actions, especially now that Fiyero and Galinda was knee deep in the political game of cat and mouse. They needed the Wizard and Morrible's trust, for it was crucial to the plan, set up by both Fiyero and Galinda. It was the only reason; or at least Fiyero's, to accepting the Wizards proposal. Galinda's motive was still one that Fiyero had yet to figure out.
Fiyero's plan required complete and utter trust by not only the Wizard, but his Press Secretary as well. So, he had to keep reminding himself, that what he was doing was for the betterment of not only Fae, but for all of Oz as well, he had to bite back his temper, stand back, and be a mere figure in the shadows. A silent spectator to this violent play of blood and guts.
Secretly, Fiyero was quite proud of the blonde witch, for not only was she not afraid to be found out by the guards, but she was willing to do whatever it took, to ensure the safety of her friend. Even if that meant her own life was now being placed in danger.
After hearing the approach, let alone the scene to which the two had stumbled upon when first arriving at the cell, had made something within the docile witch, snap. Course that rage was made worse, whilst standing hidden in the shadows, watching helplessly, as her friend was raped of her humanity.
Galinda was his anchor, his center which kept him grounded, kept his mind cleared and his turbulent emotions to remain under control. If not for the blonde witch by his side, he would have stormed the dungeons of Southstairs when Morrible first demanded her entry, fight and kill as many guards as was possible; dying probably in the process, yet all for a better cause; the freedom of one who was too innocent, too young to experience the horrors of such a place.
Fiyero had wrapped a strong arm around Galinda's small, petite waist, and pulling her flush against his body. His other hand, reached up and covered her mouth, silencing any and all protests the blonde was about to make. It was petty, he knew that, yet he couldn't, wouldn't allow the two of them, let alone Galinda; the purest of them all, to be found. He would not allow her soul to be tainted by such horrors, not as long as he had air in his lungs, and blood pumping through his veins.
Hearing the brutality was hard enough, actually seeing it was something altogether different. It shattered the innocence still residing within Galinda's heart. Her heart split in two, as she watched the guards beat Elphaba. Tears pooled within her eyes, hearing the small, almost inaudible whimpers made by the green woman, every time a guards started to beat her.
Feeling her shiver hard against him, Fiyero gently, turned Galinda's face towards him. Uncovering her mouth, Fiyero's fingers lithely tangled within her blonde curls, as he pressed her face against his shirt, half shielding her from the horrors taking place but a few feet away.
Course, the tears dried away, replaced by an indescribable rage as the Captain plunged himself hard, within the green woman's center.
Her cries drew her towards the horrors surrounding her. Her eyes widened in both horror and surprise.
Inwardly, Galinda flinched as she watched the Captain viciously pound into her emerald friend. She guessed that it had to be as painful as it looked. Galinda's center alone, started to ache in time with each violent thrust, the Captain made.
It was during that moment that a new found determination ignited within the blonde's heart. In that one fleeting moment, the blonde didn't care about social status, the dignity of being a society girl, the impropriety of giving in to her emotions, nor did she care what her actions would do to her status as the Wizard's Speaker. All she cared about, all she desired, was helping her friend, and to hell with her status symbol.
Growling, Galinda started to pull away from Fiyero's hold. Feeling her pull away, the Prince merely wrapped his arm tighter around her small waist. Spinning her around, Fiyero pressed the petite blonde hard, against his chest. Bending over, Fiyero lowered his lips down to hover a mere inch from the blonde's, and whispered a silent warning, for her to settle.
"You can't help her if you're found" warned Fiyero in a dark, even tone.
"I don't care what happens to me… what I care about is saving my Elphie" growls Galinda. Clawing, Galinda pressed her delicate hands against Fiyero's chest. Pushing against him, her dark, cerulean eyes glared back into pleading sapphire.
For one second, the anger burning deep within her eyes dimmed, seeing the pain, the torment sparkle within Fiyero's eyes, yet at the sound of the green woman's stifled scream, the rage returned. With newfound fervor, Galinda once again started to thrash and writhe against the Prince's hold.
Feeling his arms tighten around her slender waist, Galinda's dark cerulean eyes all but glared daggers back at the Prince, as a small growl slipped past her slender lips. On normal circumstances, Fiyero would have found the look she was now shooting him, to be adorable, but not this time, this time, the look was quite haunting, and dare he admit, scary and wicked.
A lump rose within Fiyero's throat as the ice forming within Galinda's eyes, cascaded over his body, freezing his heart, and stilling the blood coursing through his veins. Flinching, Fiyero swallowed back the lump, before flashing Galinda a small, awkward smile.
"Fiyero let me go now" growls Galinda, her voice low, and menacing.
Regaining his composure, Fiyero merely shook his head, his dark sapphire eyes staring almost pleadingly, back into dark cerulean. Slowly, Fiyero's free hand lithely touched the blonde's cheek, in a soothing motion; he rubbed his finger up and down the gentle slope of her cheek bone, comforting the blonde the only way he knew how.
"You can't" whispers Fiyero. "Not unless you wish to meet the same fate as Fae"
"I'd gladly take that and more, knowing that Elphie will at least be pardoned from such horrors" snarls Galinda in protest.
"Galinda please, I'm already breaking, don't shatter what's left of me by watching you go through the same horrors" pleads Fiyero.
The pain and sincerity laced within his voice, melts the anger from the blonde's heart. Slowly, her thrashing slows, the anger within her eyes dwindles, allowing soft cerulean to stare back into dark sapphire.
She knew, deep down that what Fiyero was saying was true. Even she had to admit it, that if she were in Elphaba's shoes, she would crack within seconds of being on the other end of the whip. Though she pretended to be strong, the blonde was actually quite fragile; an unfortunate side-effect of having been raised sheltered, and as a high society girl back in Pertha Hills. For the blonde, none of these things existed in her world. For her, everything was sun shine and lollipops, not darkness, blood and violence; the eradication of a soul, that was what she bared witness too, and it was slowly killing her inside.
Galinda admired the green girl, in many ways. She admired her fighting spirit, the way she cared not of the opinions of others. She followed her heart, and didn't care if other people told her she was foolish in doing so. She was outspoken, stubborn, passionate and incredibly selfless, for she cared for the safety and preservation of others, and held their lives above her own.
Slowly, Galinda melted into Fiyero's arms, burying her head into Fiyero's shirt; she allowed the floodgates of her tears that she had fought so hard to keep at bay, to break free.
Fiyero's heart cracked a little more, feeling the little blonde's body tremble hard against his own. Slowly, he wound his arms around her small waist, bringing her closer against his body. Slowly, gently, he rested his head on the top of Galinda's. His fingers lightly ran through the blonde's golden curls, comforting her, brushing the pain away from her heart.
Echoing violent slaps of skin smacking against skin, made the blonde flinch, and her heart to ache. A symphony of moans filled her ears, making the blonde tremble even harder against Fiyero's chest.
Finally, the guards having spent hours down beneath the cells of Southstairs, having their way with the green woman, finally left, leaving her a crumpled mess of excrement's, blood and fluids glistening within the fire light; a silent witness to the horrors which had taken place mere moments ago, alone in the semi-darkness, with only the flickering flames of the torches as her only comfort.
Hearing the cell gates creak and slam close, both Fiyero and Galinda, very carefully rose from the floor, each still clinging almost desperately to each other as they waited, listening to the footsteps of the guards as they made their way up the stairs.
Untangling herself, Galinda very slowly, crawled over to Elphaba's side. A small gasp slipped past quivering pink glossed lips as her eye beheld the after affects to the violence of the guards.
Her Elphie's eyes were hallow, unfocused, and clouded. Her beautiful raven hair was a sea of tangles, twisted in blood and fluids; some strands clung to her pale green flesh.
"Oh…Elphie" whispers Galinda, her voice choked as her eyes fell upon the bruises, the deep lacerations which looked like deep, cracked fissures running along deep fault lines across her body.
Gently, Galinda brushed a few raven strands; sticky and still wet with fluids from the green woman's face. Her heart clenched within her chest, as Elphaba remained frozen on the ground, unmoving, almost like the touch of her fingers were like a phantom's embrace, neither felt, never registering within the broken chambers of her mind.
"Fiyero" cries Galinda.
Fiyero remained frozen within the shadows. He couldn't, he just couldn't go to her. His mind, his heart, could not take seeing the travesty which the guards had bestowed upon the green witch. He knew that if he were to see it in its full glory, then he would surly crack, and the sanity, the strength, which he had fought so hard to cling too, would shatter, leaving him a crumpled mess.
The emptiness, the brokenness in Fiyero's eyes was enough for the white witch. Silently, she pulled a white handkerchief from the pocket of her dress, and started to gently clean away the liquid filth, from her friends, body. Once cleaned, Galinda used the small amount of spells which she had mastered, to call upon a dress to appear within her outstretched hand.
It was black, which she knew her Elphie would appreciate, and it was long, which would cover most of her body. It was meager, the cloth thin, making shielding the green woman from the arctic chill of the dungeons, almost non- existent. Still it was something, and something, was better than nothing.
The sound of approaching footsteps jarred Fiyero out of his stupor. Slowly, he rose to his feet and stepped towards the window overlooking the courtyard. A small stringent of soldiers, were marching towards Southstairs.
Galinda's eyes remained focused on the long rows of scarred flesh, marring the emerald witches back. Deep, scars made by a whip, covered her back, making her stomach to twist within her stomach.
"What horrors have you bared witness too?" whispers Galinda.
Panicking, Fiyero lightly strode over towards the blonde. Standing behind her, Fiyero very gently, placed a comforting hand on Galinda's shoulder. Shocked Galinda yelped in surprise, before whipping around to glare menacingly at the one who dared to disturb her thoughts. Her gaze though, softened immediately, once her eyes fell upon the sight of the Prince, standing before her.
"Fiyero?"
"We must go…before they come back" replies Fiyero darkly.
At first, Galinda wanted to protest, she wanted to fight and scream and plead and beg with Fiyero to let her stay, to defend her friend, to protect her from the violent tide rushing towards them. Yet she knew, deep down that no matter how much she pleaded, Fiyero would not allow her too. He would simply pick her up, and slump her against his shoulder, and carry her out of Southstairs.
He cared far too much, for her to suffer such travesties.
Silently, Galinda nodded her acknowledgement to his statement. Turning back to face her friend, Galinda reaches out, and caresses Elphaba's bruised cheek.
"Goodbye for now Elphie…stay strong…hold out if you can my sweet…for I promise, I will break you free from this hell" whispers Galinda, before lowering her lips down to pale emerald flesh, for one last kiss goodbye.
The rest of the day, Galinda remained locked within her room, not allowing servant nor the Wizard or Morrible to enter. She wanted to be alone. When questioned by the Wizard, Galinda merely lied, feigning her ill condition on a splitting headache.
Sighing, the Wizard's old, withered hand reached up and gently touched the dark quoxwood door. The blonde was annoying, and not all together there, but she was still adorable. He supposed that, if he had had a daughter, he would have liked her to be kind of like Galinda; minus the bubbly persona, and the blondeness.
"Very well then Lady Galinda…but be warned…I will be requesting your presence in the throne room later this afternoon" warns the Wizard, his voice soft, yet held an edge that Galinda did not like.
"Wh…what for?" stammers Galinda, her face staring almost pale at the closed door. Her petite fingers clutched tight to her white stuffed unicorn.
"You'll see…just be at the Throne room in four hours from now" was all the Wizard said, before turning and striding down the long hallway.
"What are you up too now Wizard" growls Galinda.
Galinda, seemed strong, was all a ruse. Inwardly, she was breaking inside. She honestly didn't know how much more she could take of this.
Sighing, Galinda rolled onto her back, her dark cerulean eyes stared absently up at the crystal dome of her ceiling. The crystal chandelier sparkled in the midday sun, casting half crescent rainbows to dance on the walls. Her blonde curls splayed out around her, shimmered like pure gold.
She was the picture of beauty, of perfection, the epitome of what every little girl yearned, dreamed of becoming; a beautiful creature of light, with powers of unimaginable power, working side by side with the Wizard, and dressed to the nines in Oz's finest fashion.
Tears swam within Galinda's eyes, she should be happy, she should be thrillified. After all, was this not what she had always dreamed of, hoped for since she was little? She was getting everything she could have ever wanted. She had power, she had fame, and popularity no one could match, nor take away, the fanciest of dresses, expensive jewelry, and recognition to who she was.
Yet this wasn't who she was, not now anyways. Since befriending the green girl from Shiz, the spoiled little rich girl from Pertha Hills, slowly faded away, leaving a woman who actually cared for others, whose main concern wasn't her popularity, nor having the highest of fashions, or having the most handsome and richest boy on her arm disappeared.
Elphie changed her, changed her for the better, and there was no way she could ever re-pay her.
Her vision became hazy, and it was only after feeling something warm and wet sliding down her cheek, that the blonde realized the tears, spilling from her eyes.
This time, instead of holding the tears back, she allowed them to fall. Turning on her side, Galinda curled herself into a tiny ball, her slender arms wrapped loosely around her slender waist as her tears spilled from her eyes, washing away the pain from her broken heart.
"Elphie" whimpers Galinda.
Hours later found Galinda once again sitting beside the Wizard, and his Press Secretary, Fiyero, stood at his usual post, a few feet away, on the steps leading to the great throne.
Galinda's eyes flickered towards her friend. Her eyes roamed over his features. Obviously, he had combed back his hair and washed the filth from Southstairs from his face. He had changed his uniform as well. The top was a deep emerald color, with golden buttons running down the length of his chest. The pants, instead of being matched in color to his top, were a soft, ebony color, matching his polished shoes.
Hearing the trumpets form the guards, Galinda once again turned her attention back to the Wizard. His face was stern, and dark. It scared Galinda, never, had she seen such a look appear on the Wizard's face. Obviously, this was not to be a very happy meeting.
Her heart fluttered within her chest, a feeling of dread, fell over her, making her breathing labored, and her head to spin. A small headache started to pulse within her head, making Galinda silently curse her bad luck.
Absently, Galinda brings her fingers up and starts to massage her temple. The Wizard, having noticed, turned to stare back at the blonde.
"My dear, you have not rid yourself of that headache yet?" frowns the Wizard.
Startled, Galinda turns to face the Wizard, her eyes wide, stare back at the withered face of the man she both admired, and loathed.
"Sadly your Ozness no…but no worries, it's not as bad as it was before" replies Galinda, flashing the Wizard her most sincere, and convincing smile.
Suspicious, the Wizard gives the blonde a knowing look, before nodding and turning away, his eyes once again staring at the great, ornate doors.
"Perhaps after this…your headache will finally go away"
"Perhaps" whispers Galinda, confusion flashing across her delicate features.
Before Fiyero can inquire to what the Wizard meant, the great doors leading to the throne room bang open, revealing a small contingent of guards. Clasped, chain bound in their hands, was a figure, a woman, with pale, emerald skin covered in blood and bruises. Her raven hair fell over her face, hiding her features.
"Elphie" gasps Galinda.
The Wizard, smirks back at the blonde, before turning to greet his guards.
Unceremoniously, the guards drop the emerald witch to the ground. A low grunt of pain slips past Elphaba's lips as her body hits the floor.
Nodding to the guards, the Captain bends down and grabs hard onto Elphaba's arm. Yanking her off the floor, he forces her onto her knees. His free hand reached down and tangles with her raven hair, before pulling back, and forcing Elphaba's dark, chocolate eyes to stare cloudy, back at the Wizard.
"So Witch. Do you still demand ownership of the Key to the Book of Arycetia?" snarls the Wizard in a teasing tone.
"You think these guards or you…can stop me?" growls Elphaba, the darkness once again returning to her eyes.
"You've been beaten, and raped by my guards. I've made sure they make you scream until you've passed out the pain alone…yet you still kneel here…defying me?" growls the Wizard.
"I fear not what you and your pathetic excuse for guards do to this body…I will heal, and soon destroy you all. Taking control of this land and the Lands beyond"
"You speak of the Other worlds…they do not exist Miss Thropp…a legend…that's all they are" sneers Morrible.
"Only a pompous, single-minded fool would believe the legends to be myths…the Other Worlds exist…and I plan to see them all"
"And do what exactly" laughs the Wizard.
"To rule them all" smiles Elphaba.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the Palace, a woman with long ebony hair, half tied back by lavender lace strides down the Palace hallways, her honey colored dress sways with each light step made on the emerald floor. She was tall, with a body which held soft, simple curves, ones that were easily missed by her gowns.
This was Mystle, Thistle's little sister, and Lady-In-Waiting to her Goodness. A servant had approached her mere minutes ago, telling her a stranger has an urgent message for her Goodness. Mystle, being Galinda's personal Servant, went to meet the stranger, take the message and deliver it to her Goodness.
Though, like many of the servants around the great Palace of Oz, had not heard the news regarding the first contingent of Gale Force Soldiers, and there rather messy end, nor of the fate which had beheld her brother. It was something Galinda had planned on telling Mystle later this evening. How she was able to keep it from the girl for this long, she didn't know.
Pushing the great doors leading to Galinda's office open, Mystle's soft, emerald eyes scanned the office, stilling only once she saw a woman sitting before the desk.
Rearranging her features into a convincing smile, Mystle, gracefully made her way in.
"Welcome to the Emerald Palace…I'm Mystle…her Goodness's personal Secretary" smiles Mystle.
Her emerald eyes remain transfixed on the woman sitting before her, as she makes her way to the front of the desk. The first thought which crossed Mystle's thoughts was how strangely beautiful this woman was.
Mystle guessed the woman to be quite tall, with a body which held soft curves in all the right places. She wore a lavender dress; the ends were pleated, and layered in an elegant design. Her hair was shimmery and soft, with braids weaved around her head. A simple lotus blossom was weaved gently within her hair.
"Thank you for allowing me an audience with her Goodness" smiles the woman.
"Yes. Sadly though, her Goodness has pressing matters in the Great Throne room. So she has asked me to come in her stead" replies Mystle, as she gracefully walks up to the chair.
"Oh, and what pressing matters must her Goodness attend to that she cannot meet me?" inquires the woman.
"Matters which are far more important" sniffs Mystle.
Though she was a servant, she was still highly respected and held far higher power and prestige then the other servants. After all, she was Galinda's personal servant, hence giving her the authority to decide whether or not a visitor or messenger was even worth, her Goodness's time.
"You're a bit cheeky for being a servant"
"And your quite rude for being a mere messenger" bristles Mystle.
"Very well then. I shall deliver my message" laughs the woman, before rising to her feet and approaching the young girl.
"Tell me and then be gone from my sights" snarls Mystle.
Stepping toe to toe with the servant girl, the woman brings her face mere inches away from Mystle's. Smiling, she brings her lips closer to the girl's ear, before whispering.
"Tell her Goodness"
Mystle's breath hitched within her throat. Never, had anyone approached her like this. But that wasn't what scared her, what truly terrified her, was the darkness resonating off of this woman. It chocked her, yet froze her at the same time.
"Yes" quivers Mystle.
"That I'm back" hisses the woman.
Before Mystle can even question the woman by what she meant, the woman reaches up and grabs a hold of Mystle's head. With a sickening crack, the woman, breaks the woman's neck. Severing her head from her body, the woman watches as Mystle's body crumples to the ground, headless.
Laughing, the woman holds Mystle's head high in the palm of her hand.