[RP] Witches of Aether

“Don’t worry Katty, I’m sure it will rain again soon. It might even snow today!” Poppy replied, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Making it snow would be quite difficult in this weather, at once it started she would be unable to make it stop – for some strange reason, she couldn’t control ice – but it would be a lot of fun, and if Katty rarely got to feel the rain, she must have felt snow even less, perhaps never. That wouldn’t do at all.

“It’s this way.” She said, pulling on Katyusha’s hand, guiding her towards the Costa a little way down the road. It was mostly empty: an angry-looking woman was sipping a steaming coffee in the corner, occasionally coughing, and there were a couple of other people in the corner, reading a paper. Yes, this would do nicely. Poppy could find out a little more about her new toys, and then she could take them back to her house, and then, oh, then the fun would really begin. But first…

“What would you like, Katty, Jenny?” she asked brightly.

---

Rosaline watched the coin float in mid-air, her face and mind both a blank as all hope she had slowly evapo-rated. So that was it, then. Her daughter was gone. In her place was…this. This creature. She almost laughed. It was quite ironic, really. Perhaps the Horned King had a sense of humour; Rosaline had been using her blade against his witches for years. It seemed only fitting that the one who could control metal strike down everything and everyone she cared about in return, a fair trade. Only it wasn’t a fair trade for, unlike the witches, who were simply reborn in another body, the lives of her lover and their daughter would never be returned to her. They were lost forever, no more than memories.

“You thought that I’d kill you.” Rosaline finished for her, perhaps a little sharper than she had intended. She could not say what she wanted to say: that she was wrong, that she would not have done such a thing. Perhaps the only thing that was stopping her from killing her here and now was that she would probably not be able to: even assuming by some miracle that her own willpower allowed her to physically overcome the hold the witch could put on her armour and sword, she was surrounded by cars, buildings, and all manner of other things made of metal. That coin she floated lazily in the air could just as easily turn into a projectile and bury itself in her brain, and there was little she could do it defend against that.

No, they both knew that a battle between the two of them here, now, would result in Rosaline being summarily defeated, which was no doubt why she had chosen to confront her now, for her own sick, twisted reasons Rosaline did not wish to understand. But she was reaching the point where she no longer cared. So, the creature would taunt her instead? She looked so much like Sophia would at that age, showed some traces of her personality, and perhaps even had her memories, if she recognised Rosaline…but she was a witch, she had shown as much. Humans did not simply become witches. Their souls were taken by the Horned King, and these mon-sters were placed in their empty shells. They ceased to be human on the day that he visited them. It was the only explanation for the horrors they could commit, the destruction they could unleash. How could anyone with such power live with themselves? The possibility of witches being human had been considered and re-considered by the Order many times over the years, and each time it had been dismissed. If witches were human, there would be no need for the Grey Order. The Grey Goddess had decreed the witches were monsters, to be hunted down and destroyed, and Rosaline would not disobey or question the word of her Goddess. She had devoted her life to the cause, and this would not change just because one had taken over her daughter. In fact, it only fuelled her desire to see every last one of them exterminated, even if she had to do it hundreds of times for the Horned King to get the message. He would NOT be allowed to toy with human lives.

“I would not kill my only daughter, no matter what the circumstances. I loved her with all my heart.” Rosaline said then, accepting – with immense regret – that her Sophia was dead. Seeing this creature in her body only proved it to her, for there was no other possibility. “My work may have kept me busy, and I imagine that life must have been hard for her at times in a way I will never be able to understand, but I like to think that, no matter what our circumstances, we were still a family. But then,” Rosaline’s eyes narrowed, “that isn’t something a witch would be capable of understanding, so I suppose I am wasting my breath.”

“I suggest you kill me now, whilst you have the opportunity.” She said tightly, finding herself shaking. It seemed that the anger had won out. “You took my lover all those years ago, and now you have taken my only daughter from me as well. I don’t care if you kill me or not – nothing you could do to me could equal or rival what you have done to me already - but you will not taunt me by taking my daughter’s form. Know that if you leave me alive here, I will return with the full force of the Grey Order, and you will be hunted down and eliminated, the fate that awaits all witches. Now, unless you have something else you wish to say to me, I suggest you leave, for even if I am at a disadvantage, I will not abide your presence for much longer.”

She had not moved at all since she had encountered the witch, and she kept her tone even and emotionless. She would give this monster nothing. She would not give her the satisfaction of seeing her broken, even as she screamed inside, railing at the injustice of it all. She would be strong for her daughter, and see this monster cut down so that she could finally rest in peace.
 
[FONT=&quot]Her own indecisiveness was quickly quelled when Freya lost sight of Ironheart. The rain was remaining constant, and as the raindrops pelted her skin, they began to feel like icicles – like this unbearably warm day was casting down wet stalactites down on this devastated city. Cars thundered by, their tyres diving into puddles, bathing parts of the streets with rainwater and leaving behind violent ripples as they passed, and handfuls of pedestrians dashed frantically to and fro during their wet commutes. Whether Ironheart had dissolved into the small crowds of pedestrians or had disappeared around one of the countless corners of the street, it didn’t matter to Freya now. Following her was now definitely out of the question and it disappointed her that the thought even came to mind. All there was left for her to do now was to get home and avoid the once-inconceivable thought of catching a cold on what was supposed to be a swelteringly warm August day. Dashing under the shelter of a nearby bus stop, Freya studied the bus routes on the chart. Unfortunately, due to a combination of the rainwater and petty vandalism, nothing was legible and despite waiting for approximately two minutes in hopes of a bus with a familiar number pass by, there was none. The slow sea of vehicles that did pass, battling the rain remained exclusive to ordinary cars, a few lorries and the occasional motorcycles. By now, Freya had grown fed up of waiting and decided to just hail a taxi cab instead, but noted the fact that she hadn’t seen a taxi pass by yet and had no idea of where to find one.[/FONT]
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[FONT=&quot]Deciding to explore the block first despite the icy rain pummelling against her head, her neck and her bag, Freya took a gamble and dashed north-eastwards, hoping to eventually discover a road or a feature of the city that she was familiar with. If she could find a taxi on her way, then that would be a lot more ideal, providing that she wasn’t going to be overcharged for the journey. Several taxi drivers had the cunning yet excruciatingly irritating habit of taking exceptionally long routes to reach the client’s destination – or even circle a whole block several times before arriving at the destination – in hopes of charging the client for extra money. Knowing her luck, if Freya were to hail a taxi to get home, she would instead be taken around the entire city first. Considering the traffic seemed normal, she could only surmise the fact that she had covered considerable distance from [/FONT][FONT=&quot]Covent Garden[/FONT][FONT=&quot] earlier. Seeing as there were no panicked reports of any further attacks since, it appeared that whichever witch was at large today, channelling whatever negative emotions she had into pyroclasmic weapons that destroyed half a street and a bit of the Next car park, she had stopped. Caught by the Order or fled? Freya presumed that the Order was at least in slight disarray now, attempting to locate and eliminate whoever the culprit was; else that knight she had met in Costa wouldn’t have abruptly left like that. If the witch was caught, then who knows what the Order would do to her. Heck, if she were caught, what would they do to her? Just kill her and that would be it because she was a witch?[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]A series of alleyways came into view, as well as a series of takeaway stores, including a derelict and boarded up Shanghai Garden Chinese takeaway. It was several feet ahead that she caught a glimpse of a figure by the side of the road and near an alleyway, her legs pulled-up and her head bowed. Odd, Freya wondered to herself. Why was there someone sitting on the side of a road like that in this rain? It continued to pour unabated and uninterrupted, leaving this rather pathetic-looking figure – however long she had been here for – wet and ruined. Her distinctive, albeit obsolete dress was certainly suffering as the material had dulled and looked slightly ragged from the rainwater and she certainly didn’t seem to care. Freya could distinctively hear the girl sobbing, just completely lost into her own melancholic world and despite the fact that there were other passer-bys on this roadside, none of them paid any attention to the girl. With dark umbrellas shielding them from the rain, they would only dash past, far more obsessed with getting to their destination and out of the rain than to stop by and ask this sobbing figure what the matter was. Were an ordinary Order acolyte here, they would surely play the Good Samaritan and tend to the girl, but none were in sight, and Freya privately preferred it that way. Though this girl was certainly a stranger, yet Freya simply could not allow herself to ignore her like that. This pathetic, wretched, sobbing figure just could not be ignored by the roadside, dripping wet from head to toe and from what Freya presumed, in seek of company.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Freya had no umbrella with her. She could never have anticipated rain when she left the house. At the time, the idea of rain on what was a brutally warm and cloudless summer morning sounded as ludicrous as snow. If she did, she could simply hold up the umbrella over the girl’s head now before gently asking what was wrong. By now, Freya was thoroughly wet as well, feeling the numerous drops of rainwater sliding down her hair and seeing them crash into the pavement below as she crouched down by the girl to at least be at eye level with her. The girl as she feared, was frequently trembling and the effect of the icy rain was now clear. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]“Hey,” she gently said to the sobbing girl, hoping to snap her out of her incessant sobbing, “what’s up? Are you alright?”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]When Freya did catch a glimpse of the girl’s face, she was remarkably reminded of one of her younger twin sisters. Instantly, parallel memory flashbacks of one of her twin sisters sitting in the rain, sobbing because of the fact that she had been bullied at primary school came flashing before her. She could recall approaching her sobbing sister, asking the same questions. What’s up? Are you alright? Freya also recalled frantically getting her sister out of the rain, constantly wary of colds. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Natalie…Amelia…how I miss you two so much – are you two coping fine without me? You’re probably both big girls by now, so I guess I needn’t worry, even if I really do distrust that uncle of ours. I hope he’s been fair to you two or I will one day bring hell to him.[/FONT]
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[FONT=&quot]The fact that the girl reminded Freya so much of her twin sisters was barely anything more than coincidence, though she was determined nonetheless to somehow get the girl out of the rain and into somewhere dry and cosy. Whether she wanted to move at all was another matter entirely, but it wasn’t going to stop her from trying.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]“Do you have somewhere to go?” she asked softly, “the rain’s probably only going to get worse, and you’ll only catch a cold…” [/FONT]
 
[OOC: Lily isn't actually dying, she's just a drama queen. xD]

Lily was dying. A part of her instinctively recognised that, although the rest of her rejected the idea – that was simply absurd. She had been on the streets for maybe ten or fifteen minutes and, whilst the rain was coming down in ice-cold droplets that chilled her to the very bone, and she was a frail girl, someone couldn’t die from exposure like this, not for hours. But then, time had lost all meaning for Lily, she could have indeedbeen here for hours for all she knew. With the sky dark overhead, it was impossible to tell how close to night it was, and London was a city that never really slept, so she couldn’t really measure the time of day by the number of people on the street – not that she could see any of them anyway; her vision was blurry, obscured by the rain and her own tears. If Lily was dying, then it was because she no longer wanted to live…but she hated her existence for a long time. Why had it taken so long for her to reach this point? She would have recoiled in horror, but found that she didn’t mind. Dying was a lot less painful than living; in fact, she seemed to have lost all feeling entirely.

A figure stood in front of her, and Lily raised her head, to see herself in front of a mirror – was that her, or Alyss? It was hard to tell…perhaps it was both of them – covered in bruises and scratches; needle pinpricks, she realised then, with a faint horror. She felt profoundly afraid and alone, and yet could not help but feel happy. Here, she was finally getting the punishment she deserved. This shadowy figure, whoever she was – and yes, it was definitely female – was doing to her what should have been done years before. She wanted to thank her, but couldn’t find the words. Would she go so far as to kill Lily? Part of her certainly hoped so. But no, she simply leaned forward, setting the needle to her skin, and suddenly Lily’s ears were full of screaming, and the scene dissolved. The rain had intensified, and Lily was momentarily confused. How had she ended up here? She real-ised then that she had always been here…that had been another memory of Alyss’, a fragment from her past. She was shaking, although it had nothing to do with the cold.

No. No more. I don’t care about that monster, and I don’t ever want to see her again!

She understood, then, why Alyss had killed her mother. But she could never accept it. Lily was sure that, deep down, her mother had loved her, and had a reason for what she had done. She wouldn’t allow Alyss’ memories and emotions to poison her like this: killing someone was not OK, regardless of the circumstances. Logic never worked when it came to emotion. She had lashed out, and her mother hadn’t deserved it, for all the things she might have done. Nobody deserved to die, nobody except the monsters, like Alyss…and Lily herself. This changed nothing at all, and she would never condone what Alyss had done. Not that it mattered, for she would never see the girl again. She was gone, and now Lily sat on the street, waiting to die, to do what she should have done the night her mother had been killed. She had wanted nothing more than to end her life since that day, yet she had lacked the courage to do so. Now, abandoned and alone at the side of a street like any other, she realised how easy it really was, and regretted not doing it sooner. All that pain she had caused for all those years…well, it would all end here.

It took Lily a few moments to realise there was a presence in front of her, partially shielding her from the rain, a soft voice she could barely hear, little more than a buzz, seemingly addressing her. Was someone there? Her hair hung in wet ropes over her face, and she lacked the energy or the desire to brush them away, so she could get a good look at whomever it was that was speaking to her. Probably just a passer-by taking pity on her. Lily hated it when people took pity on her, like she was less than human…but then; it was apt enough, wasn’t it? After all, she wasn’t human. But she did not deserve pity. Hatred, yes, but not pity. There were plenty of other people out on the streets that deserved a helping hand, why was she being singled out yet again by someone? She was a monster. She deserved to be here; cold, wretched and profoundly alone. People seemed to be filled with a natural desire to protect her, but they could not protect themselves from Lily, or Lily from herself. Not only did she not deserve any form of kindness, she could never accept it. To do so would be…wrong.

“G-go aw-away.” Lily shuddered violently, her entire body jerking and twitching against her will, the motion making her realise just how cold and wet she was. Her clothes stuck to her skin (which, she realised, was why she lack the energy to lift her arms) and she knew that, if this kept up, she would likely slip into unconsciousness, and eventually succumb to the cold entirely. Good riddance. It was no less than she deserved, for bringing such misery down upon people. It was all she could do, and she was destined to be this way forever, why should she not just die here and now? She was worthless. If this stranger could understand this, no doubt she would leave Lily to die here and now, like she wanted to, needed to.

“Leave me al-alone. Let me d-die here.” She managed to say, teeth chattering, when the girl did not do as she had asked, instead asking her more questions of her, which she could barely make out. She was suddenly profoundly afraid. What if the girl didn’t take no for answer? Lily was too weak to resist her – she had always been too weak – and if she helped Lily, it would only come back to haunt her later. Lily couldn’t allow that to happen again. She had had enough of causing misery and despair to everyone she saw. She realised that she probably should have sat down in the alley, out of sight, so that nobody would find her. But it was far too late for that now, and she lacked the energy to even crawl there.

“B-better this way.” She tried to explain, her voice feeble and barely audible over the pounding rain. She was suddenly overcome by a fit of coughing, her chest on fire; an odd contrast, given how the rest of her was so numb she could barely feel it. She must see that it was better. Lily was already succumbing to the cold. If she was left alone, nature would take its course, and she would be dead by the end of the day. The rain was freezing and heavy, and the place where she sat was clammy and hard. Lily had always been very delicate. She was relieved to discover that she was still mortal – a monster she may be, but indestructible she was not. It was comforting to know that she could die; it made her feel almost...human.
 
OOC: Oh God, here goes nothing. You lot make it so hard to write up such good posts! Anyway, as from this post, Jacob is ready to be bumped into. Quite literally. Just don't piss him off. xD

IC: [Otherworld]

"You're so hypnotizing. Could you be the devil? Could you be an angel? Your touch magnetizing. Feels like I am floating, leaves my body glowing ..."

Something about the song on the iPod was ... alluring. Chloe had recommended the song to Jacob and he didn't have a choice, but to listen. She was right that there was something about it that related to himself – that he was from another world sometimes from the way he acted. Then again, he was a Knight. Sworn to defeat and kill witches. They were the threat to the world. Or so that was what he believed himself, anyway. He continued down the street, University books under one arm and bag over the opposite shoulder, like any other ordinary person. He was still dressed in his civilian clothes, his glasses occasionally sipping down his nose.

His skinny, but muscular figure was the perfect disguise to fool anyone from thinking he was a Knight. Jacob did not particularly care if it attracted the women from time to time. If anything, any of those women could be a witch. A witch that would seduce him and then curse him. He had faced witches before and would not let his guard drop. He had the right to suspect everyone. Even his own mother.

As the song came to a close, he removed the white earphones and put his iPod away in one of the inside pockets of his jacket. Jacob stopped at the lights, waiting to cross over, when a painful sight overwhelmed him.

The front page of the newspaper held by a businessman reported of a fatal shooting in the early hours of yesterday morning. Jacob fazed out for a moment, reminded of that particular incident fifteen years ago. He had been foolish and let his guard down. Why could he not even block out the memory of his father's dying moments whenever the news of any shooting occurred? Life without a father had been harsh. He didn't want to be reminded of that painful memory ...

Jacob carried on down the street when the lights turned to red along the rest of the passer-bys. His broken heart had not since healed. Perhaps there would always be a part that would never be fully whole again.

And of course, it was raining.

Well, that set the scene very well. If he were an actor, he would be playing the part of the young man that was in the Shakespearean tragedy. Perhaps Romeo and Juliet without Juliet and the romance. As he pondered what life's true value was and what it meant to be alive, Jacob just about registered the fact that someone had run into him. Kick a man whilst he was down, of course ...

As he turned to face whoever had bumped into him, Jacob was left speechless. He had never been rendered this way before, so it was a whole new experience for him. The girl was at average height, had long red hair and grey-blue eyes that he couldn't stop staring at. He adjusted his glasses, as they had slipped down his nose further following the collision, and cleared his throat.

"I'm fine, thank you," he smiled and nodded in his gentlemanly manner.

He took a quick moment to glance around, having taking the chance to acknowledge the unfortunate weather surrounding them. It would seem typical for such an encounter to be blessed with such ... circumstances. Jacob removed his glasses; he couldn't see through them properly. It was a relief to take them off, considering he wore them often when he was under his civilian identity. Whilst only required for reading, he'd cursed himself to wearing the damn things everyday.

"Don't worry about it, you didn't hurt me whatsoever. And I'm sorry about your umbrella, such a shame in weather like this," added Jacob. He hesitated for a moment, then spoke again. "I'm sorry, where are my manners? I'm Jacob."
 
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[FONT=&quot]The girl remained stationery. Whether she was even aware of Freya’s presence let alone able to even hear what she had said remained doubtful. Soaked wisps of hair were now lazily hanging, pelting raindrops onto the very material of her dress as it laid there, surrendered to the rain. The girl was unabatedly trembling, now exhibiting clear signs of shivering as Freya feared. Please cooperate with me dear, was all Freya had running through her mind, while as she simultaneously acknowledged, she had to escape from the rain as well. The fact that they were now like torrents of icy arrows descending from the bow of an angry deity in the sky meant Freya too was now shivering and thoroughly covered from head to toe in the cold rainwater. She could now barely even see the girl anymore, and she constantly fidgeted, fighting to wipe aside the strands of wet hair that were almost glued to her face.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]While the girl gave a violent shudder, her stuttering voice was finally audible, “G-go aw-away.” Freya was momentarily taken aback by this response, but inevitably, something like this had to be expected. It was clear that some form of trauma had occurred to her, poor girl, and that all she was running on was acute despair. Unfortunately for the girl, obstinacy was one of her traits whenever Freya encountered people that just demanded care and attention. The girl may have been a stranger and it was normally against Freya to stop and care for strangers like this no matter who they were, the prospect of ignoring her in this horrendous rain just seemed completely out of the question. The girl’s vulnerability in the rain was a stark reminder of her twin sisters and perhaps that was a contributory factor in forcing her to stay where she was. No matter what the excuses the girl could give for being out there like this, Freya was not about to abandon her that easily. She may be a witch, but she was not a monster. She was not about to leave a vulnerable girl in the open out here in the rain when anything could happen to her afterwards. Kidnappings and beatings were unfortunately, supposedly frequent atrocities in areas such as this, and to a horrific extent, so was rape. Catching a cold could be the least of her worries, though there was the chance that she could attain a malady far worse. Besides, the more she was determined to prove to herself that she was not a monster and therefore able to dissociate from the other witches, the more determined she grew to help the girl.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“I can’t go away,” Freya gently replied, while frantically looking around to see whether there was a shelter anywhere for respite from the rain. To her irritation, this proved to be futile, but there had to be somewhere to take this girl, at least until the rain could die down significantly, “I’m sorry, but I can’t just leave you like this here. Please, let me help you? Why are you out here on the street? What’s wrong? Please can I at least try and get you somewhere dry?” barely several lines in and Freya was already resorting to gentle pleading, but as long as it would get the girl up on her feet and escorted indoors somewhere, she couldn’t care less.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]“Leave me al-alone. Let me d-die here,” was next to come from the shivering girl’s mouth, her teeth audibly chattering as she struggled to utter the words, as if she were severely wounded. Don’t be a drama queen; Freya could only silently reply in her mind, no one was going to die here, not on her watch. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]“I already said that I would do no such thing,” she repeated, albeit a little sterner this time as like her, the girl was proving to be obstinate, “I may not know what it is exactly, but whatever’s troubling you surely can’t warrant the need to sit out here on a street in this rain! I’m not leaving you here because I can see that you need to be dry and fast, why do you not want to move?” despite the very pathetic appearance of the girl and how she was behaving, it was definitely a moving and melancholic sight. Other than her mother while she was slowly and agonisingly dying, Freya had never seen any individual in such a state of need for help as the girl was now. Was that it? She sought only to die out here and allow nature to sweep her away from the world like autumn leaves? The very difference between the girl and Freya’s mother was that her mother had no chance. Her eventual death was a certainty as nothing was able to cure her. This girl no matter what would still have a chance and Freya was determined to show her that somehow. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“B-better this way,” came the girl’s feeble response, though almost lost in a storm of violent coughing. Her limbs remained stationery nonetheless, as if petrified. Her energy seemed spent though she exhibited no sign of physical wounds. Supposedly it all existed psychologically then, which was possibly harder for her. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]“Trust me, it isn’t,” Freya responded, now a little irritated at the girl’s persistence, while kicking in her sterner yet compassionate side, “Stop, please. Listen to me, you’re not dying and nor are you going to die. All I want to do is to get you somewhere dry and let you perhaps calm down a bit. To just leave you here now would just be one of the worst things I can do now and I would never be able to forgive myself for that. I take it you’re not hurt are you?” it was a pointless question bordering on redundancy because Freya could visually make out that she had no physical injuries, but nonetheless it became one of her habits back when she was caring nearly all the time for her younger sisters. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]There has to be somewhere I can take her, but I don’t see any shelter nearby. Perhaps I may need an Order acolyte here sometime soon, but seeing as the rain is this bad now and the streets are emptying a bit, that’s unlikely to happen. Other passer-bys – their dwindling numbers and all – are unlikely to do anything either. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Cars thundered by, including a couple of taxi cabs. Recalling what she was looking for, Freya began contemplating whether she should hail a cab and take both herself and the girl somewhere – anywhere – anywhere that was dry and bereft of the rain. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]But where? Where do I take her? She doesn’t want to go anywhere, but I insist. I’m not leaving her here and that’s final. I’ll…I’ll even take her back to my place if I have to. She doesn’t seem like she’s going to willingly tell me where she lives anytime soon, else I would willingly take her there. Sorry Georgia, but you may have to wait as my vulnerable guest will be more important. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Frantically looking around despite the incessant rain that was just hampering visuals and nearly stinging her eyes, her eyes probed around, hoping to espy a taxi – any taxi. Oh come on, she bitterly thought to herself, this was bloody [/FONT][FONT=&quot]London[/FONT][FONT=&quot]! There had to be some taxis approaching for her to intercept and stop. Until she could find one, she would attempt to shield the sobbing girl from the rain to the best of her abilities, perhaps even using her bag as a makeshift umbrella if she had to.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]“You have a name?” she asked, determined to match her face with at least a name she could use to refer to her that wasn’t simply “the girl”. At the same time, she wondered whether she was just simply asking too many questions. The girl certainly looked like she would have no strength left to even speak. [/FONT]
 
“You thought that I’d kill you.”

She understands.

Sophia felt a feeling that she had not experienced in...well, far too long. Genuine happiness. After all these years, perhaps her mother actually could understand what she was thinking. However, Sophia also caught the sharpness in her mother's tone. That seemed a bit...out of place.

“I would not kill my only daughter, no matter what the circumstances. I loved her with all my heart. My work may have kept me busy, and I imagine that life must have been hard for her at times in a way I will never be able to understand, but I like to think that, no matter what our circumstances, we were still a family. But then...”

A subtle change in pronouns...but it was enough. Sophia noted that Rosaline seemed to be talking about her daughter, not to her. The use of the past tense further worried Sophia. Rosaline was talking as if...well...Sophia was dead already. Sophia blinked away her tears and looked up into her mother's face, which had taken on a strange quality that made Sophia a bit uneasy.

“...that isn’t something a witch would be capable of understanding, so I suppose I am wasting my breath.”

Understanding struck Sophia like a thunderbolt.

She had dismissed me. She no longer sees me as her daughter...but some monster. She doesn't understand after all.

The happiness Sophia felt just moments ago was rapidly replaced by an all-encompassing despair. Just when she was thinking that there was a chance that her mother would accept her for what she was...now that possibility seemed as remote as the Horned King and the Grey Goddess giving each other a hug. The tears that Sophia had previously hidden away threatened to come rushing back to her eyes...but then her mother spoke again.

“I suggest you kill me now, whilst you have the opportunity. You took my lover all those years ago, and now you have taken my only daughter from me as well. I don’t care if you kill me or not – nothing you could do to me could equal or rival what you have done to me already - but you will not taunt me by taking my daughter’s form. Know that if you leave me alive here, I will return with the full force of the Grey Order, and you will be hunted down and eliminated, the fate that awaits all witches. Now, unless you have something else you wish to say to me, I suggest you leave, for even if I am at a disadvantage, I will not abide your presence for much longer.”

Sophia took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. It amazed her how rapidly Rosaline's tone had shifted from 'loving' to 'frigid'. Sophia had floated the coin so that her mother could understand what she had become...but it was as if some switch had been flipped inside Rosaline that had changed her in some terrible way. Now she stood here, speaking to Sophia as if she didn't even exist and the Metal Witch had occupied her shell.

I don't know what to think right now...but I know that I'm not some puppet. I am, fundamentally, me. Just because I was given these abilities doesn't make me not who I am. But...what do I say now? Now my own mother thinks me dead...and I'm standing right in front of her.

"I'm not taking your daughter's form...I am your daughter! Why do I remember Father's funeral and how sad I was...how sad you were? Why do I remember you teaching me how to read? How to study and to serve the greater good? My name, my memories define me, not my...newfound abilities. I am Sophia Hart, and I am NOT just some monster!"

Sophia took a deep breath and calmed herself a bit...and refocused her attention on Rosaline's sword hand. The way Rosaline was behaving, she might try something...rash.
 
Why was she asking Lily all these questions? She’d never met her before, of that she was certain. Lily had no friends, and nobody cared for her. Why was this girl taking such a keen interest in her? She wished that she could call upon the darkness then to take her away from all this, yet they seemed oddly unresponsive at the moment. So, evidently she couldn’t control them after all, it had been little more than a fluke that had seen her end up here. She had never had any control. Now she was going to be left here, abandoned by everything and everyone. It seemed fitting…but this girl, she wouldn’t leave her alone. “Don’t w-want your h-help.” She said stubbornly, hoping to offend her and get her to leave that way.

She tried again, more sternly this time, and Lily flinched at her tone. If only she did know what was troubling Lily, then she might not be so quick to judge her. “Not that bad”? Try being raped when you were thirteen and being seen as some kind of deformed monster by everyone, even your own father. Try becoming that monster when you were visited by a demon who made the darkness a tangible threat. Try never being able to sleep at night because you were worried that the darkness would close in and swallow you, subjecting you to hell that you couldn’t put into words. Try making a pact with a psychotic killer because you had nobody else you could talk to…she was feeling sorry for herself, but a small part of her was extremely annoyed. Not that bad? Something of Alyss’ irritation with people must have been transferred to her. Horrified, Lily stemmed the sudden tide of anger that had flooded her thoughts. This, this was precisely why she couldn’t afford to accept this girl’s help, or even continue living. She was…changing. Becoming more of a monster than she had already been. How much time before she started killing people as well? She couldn’t fight this change, she wasn’t strong enough. She needed to end it now, before it became any worse than it already was. “N-nothing you can d-do for me.” She said, fresh tears streaming down her face. Indeed, nothing she or anyone else could do. The Horned King, per-haps, but He had not seemed inclined to remove her powers when she had last seen Him.

“It IS better!” Lily replied vehemently, coughing violently. “Y-you have n-no idea. It’s none of your b-business.” The wind had moved her hair, and she could now see the one in front of her: a young girl perhaps slightly older than she was. Her eyes were filled with concern and compassion, and Lily was forced to lower her head. She couldn’t meet eyes like those. She didn’t deserve anything like that. Physically, Lily wasn’t hurt at all, but emo-tionally, she felt as though she were coming apart, and this girl was only serving to hasten the process with her misplaced kindness. Yet she seemed incapable of understanding that…or she simply chose to ignore it. Of course, Lily’s feelings in the matter counted for nothing, it was only hers that mattered, her conscience that needed to be appeased…and that was an extremely uncharitable thing to think. Lily shook her head, burying it again between her knees. Maybe if she pretended the girl didn’t exist, she’d go away and leave her alone. She must see by now that it was futile, and that she could do nothing for her.

If anything, Lily’s fear intensified when she asked her for her name. Why was she asking that? Was she another witch, out for her soul? Was that why she was trying to help Lily: to stop her from dying, so she could claim her power for herself? She would be in for a surprise, if that was the case, because when Lily died, her soul, along with her powers, would be going to Alyss. The thought was not a comforting one; Lily didn’t want anything of hers to end up in the hands of that murderer. Yet she couldn’t continue to live like this, and Alyss was far stronger than she was, so it would happen eventually. She might as well die here and get it over with…it wasn’t so bad this way. At least she got to choose her death, and she was determined that this, at least, would not be denied her, not by this girl or anyone else.

“N-n-no.” she replied, managing some vehemence despite her gradually worsening condition. She didn’t want friends, she didn’t want help, and she definitely didn’t want to make the mistake of giving her name again, not even her alias. Giving this stranger her name would only attach her to Lily. Lily wasn’t human; she was a mon-ster. Monsters didn’t have names. “P-please. Go. L-leave m-me alone.” She tried again, although she imagined it was a futile exercise. Why was she being so stubborn? Why couldn’t she understand? Could she not see how much of a monster Lily was? Why was she treating her like a human?

---

Rosaline’s blade hissed out of its scabbard, and she held it, two-handed, in front of her. Anger coursed through her body and, although anger would not fuel her power – the Goddess rejected such emotion, the will must be pure for the power to flow – she did not care at this point. “Don’t you dare speak her name!” she hissed at the creature in front of her, “I will not allow you to defile my daughter’s memory with your lies! Begone from here, or prepare to be struck down. I will not give you another warning.”

Why WAS she giving Sophia – no, that was NOT Sophia, she sternly reminded herself – another warning? Rosa-line had never issued warnings before today. It was not because she knew that she could not possibly win against a creature who could control metal with a sword – if it came down to it, she would cast it aside and snap her neck with her bare hands – but…was she really sure about this? Her emotions seemed so real, and her memories seemed accurate. But…no, it wasn’t possible. Rosaline could not afford to second-guess her beliefs now. The other women who had been taken by witches, they had been someone else’s daughter as well. Just because her own had been taken did not give her the right to second-guess, when she had been so sure of the others. It would be no different here. It could not be any different here. Much as she may otherwise wish it, her daughter, Sophia Hart, was dead. This cruel mockery of her was all that was left, and she would not allow it to continue its vile existence.
 
Sophia was not surprised that Rosaline responded by drawing her sword. It was quite obvious that she was allowing some odd sort of anger to consume her...drawing a sword against one with control of metal was certainly a ludicrous act. Sophia had no intention of letting her mother kill her...and it was certainly clear that this was her intent...but she also did want to harm her mother. Sophia had been in situations like this before and had not hesitated to kill those who hunted her, but this time was different. This was her mother...and she was not some monster who killed people wantonly.

Fortunately, Rosaline was in her armor, which made it quite easy to hold her in place. It was a simple matter for Sophia to multiply the density of Rosaline's armor and sword so that they were impossible to use. Perhaps, if she was frozen in place, she would listen to some reason.

"Why are you being this way? Is it so hard to believe that I can be your daughter and...and...a witch at the same time?"

Sophia ran her hands through her hair in frustration. It was becoming more and more apparent that Rosaline considered her daughter to be dead, and that Sophia was little more than a vessel for the witch she likely hated the most. It was obviously to Sophia that she was still...well, herself...but how do people go about proving that they are indeed themselves? It was quite a quandary, compounded by the fact that her mother had just drawn a weapon. Sophia sighed in frustration and spoke again.

"I'm not going to let you hurt me...you'll just regret it after this is all over. I'm not going to hurt you, either. No matter what you say...you are still my mother."
 
No sooner had Rosaline drawn her blade than she felt as though she was carrying a small car. She could have sworn she heard the pavement crack underneath her, and she gasped, almost toppling; no doubt she would have, had she been in full armour. The witch hadn’t moved at all, but it was clear that she had done something. A fresh surge of anger coursed through Rosaline then. Why was she just standing there?! Was she stupid? Her game had failed, and it would continue to fail. The time for talking was quite clearly over. If she thought that she could reason with her, or plead for her life, when she had stolen her daughter’s body, then she was truly delusional.

She allowed her sword to slip from her grasp, falling to the floor with a loud clatter. Far too loud, in fact. Her muscles strained beneath her armour, hands clenching and unclenching, yet the weight was not unbearable. Clearly, the creature sought to hold her in place, so she could continue her taunting…it would work, but not for long. As soon as Rosaline got adjusted to the weight – or as soon as she calmed down sufficiently to tap into the power the Goddess had bestowed upon her – she would snap this witch in half like a twig. Her hands would work just as well as her blade.

“My daughter is dead.” She said harshly, her breathing heavy as she strained against the added weight. She had not carried such a load for many years now and, whilst she was by no means out of shape, it was still not easy, “She knew that witches were not real people, and that once the soul had been taken from the body and replaced with the demon, there was no way of reversing the process. She was of the Grey Order, as am I. Your mind games will not work on me, and your lack of knowledge betrays you. You waste my time.”

She was gradually becoming calmer, although her power was still beyond her grasp. It was a miracle that she had not collapsed under the weight, yet her anger had kept her standing. She would not kneel before a witch. Yet it was getting increasingly difficult, for she could not yet muster up the willpower she needed. Once the threshold of anger had been crossed, it took time to come back from it and, whilst anger was sufficient to keep her on her feet, for it provided its own kind of unique strength, it would not be enough to get her moving again, and nowhere near enough to kill this abomination. She needed more strength than this…it was frustrating, which only heeded her recovery. Rosaline forced herself to take deep breaths, reminding herself that this was exactly what this creature wanted. She could not give her the satisfaction.

“What I regret is that I could not save my daughter from being killed. What I regret is not being able to stop her memory, her very existence, from becoming corrupted. What I regret, creature, is that I failed her. I will not fail her again. You will not hold me forever, and if you refuse to fight, so much the better. I shall snap your neck with my bare hands.”

Her, this creature’s mother? The idea was absurd. She may be mother to the body it inhabited, but the soul had long since departed, making it little more than a shell. She would not accept responsibility for this; she had no control over who the Horned King chose to be His next victim. Whether he had chosen her Sophia by design or chance was unknown, but it mattered little now. What was done was done. The only responsibility Rosaline had was to undo it.
 
Crimson let out a sigh of relief as the man she'd nearly toppled over didn't scream in her face, call her bad names or anything remotely like that. Instead he was rather polite. She glanced at him with a slight look of suspicion. It couldn't be helped, another stranger had nearly melted her head off only moments ago, it was too good to be true.

"Don't worry about it, you didn't hurt me whatsoever. And I'm sorry about your umbrella, such a shame in weather like this," The man said in a cool voice.

The mention of the weather made Crimson realise just how cold and soaked she was right now. Her hair was dripping and her clothing was clinging to her figure, she instinctively wrapped her arms around her body to keep warm.

"I'm sorry, where are my manners? I'm Jacob."

Crimson looked up at him and smiled weakly. She was suspicious of this guy, he was just too nice, and as a witch she was naturally paranoid.

"Oh, uhm well... I'm Crimson, pleased to meet you. I'm really sorry about walking into you... it was clumsy of me." but then another voice caught her attention, it was a female.

“Your umbrella burst, did it? How odd…” Crimson turned her head slightly to see who it was...before her stood a woman with long black hair, it was a little messy but soaked from the rain, she had an eye patch on. Crimson realised she was staring at it for far too long and quickly averted her eyes.

Why was this woman interested in her umbrella bursting? The redheads eyes narrowed slightly, this woman was even more suspicious than the young man, Jacob whom she'd just bumped into and Crimson couldn't help but answer her with a slightly annoyed tone.

"Oh... pardon my use of the word 'burst'... an umbrella can't burst, that was stupid of me to say." She realised the umbrella was still open and in her hands, she looked to it and it really did look as though it had caught on fire or something. But crimson knew exactly how something looked if it had been burnt and this was a little different. She quickly folded it up and tucked it away into her satchel.

There was something strange about the woman standing before her. The man seemed normal enough but this one...she was a little strange and Crimson began to feel frightened and defensive.
 
It was at times like this Alyss was glad she could lie with the best of them. The girl was obviously annoyed about something, but Alyss wasn’t as interested in that as much as she was interested in the umbrella “bursting”. However, she knew if she started to pry too much without giving any proper reasoning behind it, she would look suspicious… if she didn’t already. “Well, as long as you are alright everything is fine. From the looks of your umbrella it sounds as if whatever happened to it could have easily have happened to you.”

She turned then to the man that was standing there. He certainly had a way with words. “Terrible weather we are having today. My name is Alyss, by the way.” Alyss couldn’t help but notice Crimson was somewhat wary around her. From the alone she could already tell that she wasn’t making a good impression. At times like these, she desperately wished she were normal. A normal person would have been able to handle the situation much better without being a socially inept moron about it.

She had to think quickly… very quickly to get the girl to trust her. “I work for a local newspaper, actually. So, I do apologize if I came off as rude. However, I am doing a report on the strange weather we have been having as of late and the strange happenings around town, so when I heard about your umbrella… it more than caught my interest.” Alyss did her best to make herself sound believable. “If you do not mind, I would love to speak of it more.”

Quickly ensuring that she didn’t forget about the man she turned to him, “and what about you, Mr. Jacob, was it?” Alyss was good at lying, that much was true, but she hated pretending to be nice. Not to mention that even she wasn’t quite buying her own story. However, she needed information and on such short notice that was the best she could do. She would have pretended to be a detective, but she didn’t have a badge.
 
Sophia watched her mother struggle under the increased weight of her armor and felt a pang of regret. It was unfortunate that this was necessary...but it was. Rosaline was clearly emotionally unstable and might actually kill her daughter if left to her own devices. Unfortunately, she had convinced herself that Sophia was simply possessed by the Witch...and the more that Sophia tried to convince her mother otherwise, the more firmly Rosaline held onto her views.

“My daughter is dead.”

Sophia had already figured out that this was her mother's take on things, but the words still affected her. She felt a profound sense of sadness...but that was soon replaced by a strange sense of determination. She decided that she would eventually help her mother understand that it was indeed her daughter that stood before her. It might not happen right now...or anytime soon...but Sophia knew that the loving mother from her past was trapped somewhere in the straining figure before her.

It's a bit ironic, isn't it? Both of us stand here...each one convinced that the other is not as they truly appear. I know who I am, though. I'll show Mum that she knows who she is too...even if she's lost herself a bit.

Sophia reversed the polarity of Rosaline's dropped sword so that it would float...it was the same trick she used on the coin, but it required more effort as the sword was obviously larger than a 50p coin. Without touching the sword, Sophia moved it so that the point was pressed against Rosaline's neck.

"Tell me something, mum. If I'm such a monster, why am I hesitating to kill you? Obviously, a witch wouldn't just let a Witchslayer run free...and I could kill you in a hundred different ways right now. I could pierce your throat with your own sword...or continue to increase your armor's density until you're crushed...or I could melt your armor and roast you alive. If I was feeling less creative...I could just smash you with a car or remove the minerals from your body or...I think you get the picture. So...can you explain to me why you aren't already dead?"
 
[FONT=&quot]“Don’t w-want your h-help,” was the response that the girl could only muster and this time it really did begin to irritate Freya considerably. It wasn’t a case of whether she wanted help or not, that was now irrelevant. No way was she about to just leave her on the street like this in such a defeated and vulnerable state. The sheer stubbornness of the girl was a remarkable trait nonetheless and not even the sheer insistence of her dying mother to climb out of bed and walk out into the garden despite her frail condition matched that of this girl’s own persistence in ignoring Freya. Freya could only repeat her own words, albeit only the more salient details and with a more determined and strict tone, like a mother would to an unresponsive child. Years of caring for her own mother and her twin sisters have given Freya this maternal complex that reared its head from time to time, but when it came to strangers, never as evident as now – right here with this soaked girl on the street. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Fresh tears were now cascading down the girl’s eyes, her trembling slightly intensifying. Her hands were beginning to violently tremble, as if she had just retreated back into the realms of horrifying memories that were manifesting before her and taunting her. The girl’s fragility was certainly serious; her troubled mind now merely a thrall of these mocking horrific memories, whatever they were. Freya had no idea what these memories entailed and neither were they any of her business, but she simply felt that without any clue of what was disturbing her, she was utterly powerless here and now to calm her down, let alone get her anywhere. This rain, was it mocking them? It showed no sign of ceasing now and every raindrop felt like a curse, bombarding the two of them like tiny comets, draining the world of colour as Freya could now only pick out the darks and the greys. Poetic wasn’t it? This seemed the perfect poetic description of pathetic fallacy and Freya could almost feel her own strength and energy sapped away minute by minute. The resonating sound of the girl’s “N-nothing you can d-do for me” and “Y-you have n-no idea. It’s none of your b-business” soon rang in her head. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]True – this isn’t my business. I wouldn’t expect you to tell a stranger anyway, but you need some form of company. How long have you been alone now, bereft of company? To be merely a thrall of loneliness has always been an evil that has corrupted the minds of many people, ripping out the hopes, happiness and aspirations from them, leaving them as lost shells. In the worst case scenario, these lost and frail shells may even consider abandoning life itself. I myself briefly became one of these shells and to an extent, I still am. You have no idea dear, of what I’ve had to face for a couple of years now. Bestowed with the powers of a devil, only I have access to this secret and as a result I have hardly ever felt like a normal human, carefree and without the terrible burden that I have. For a short while all I could think of was secluding myself from everyone else because of my powers. I figured that if I could do that, maybe I could run away from everything and avoid being seen as a monster.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Yet loneliness destroys you. Had I stayed lonely ever since my sisters left and my mother departed – I would have been destroyed as well. I could have been no different from you. I could be here now, sitting on the pavement in the rain like you, all hope lost and in company only to despair and defeatism. No one should ever have to be in such as a state like you are, it really should not matter what terrible burdens you have or what form of tragic past you have buried in your memories. As long as you are alive, you carry on living and aspire to get somewhere, even if it’s the tiniest step forward. I don’t like it when people simply give up here and now when they can still go on and leave nature to wash their shells away like this. My mother never had that chance to go on, but you dear, you do.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Using a single finger, Freya lightly gestured it upwards, flicking it lightly. A gentle blast of wind was summoned just as she intended and the soft breeze hurtled at the girl, parting her soaked strands of hair that were clouding her vision. Perhaps now the girl could catch a good glimpse of Freya and perhaps see the sheer sincerity in her eyes. The girl was in desperate need of company to snap her out of this regressive state and Freya wanted to hammer that point into her. The girl had to calm down. That was the main priority now, but another priority was to get her out of the rain somehow. It may have been a futile gesture, but Freya continued to summon irregular bursts of light wind to blow away some of the raindrops on the girl, but careful to ensure that it was not obvious whatsoever that there was anything suspicious about this wind. If the girl had developed any suspicion at all that Freya was a witch, then that could be her most fatal choice of action possible. This was of course, assuming the fact that the girl had any idea of what witches were, which seemed a little unlikely. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]The fact that the girl refused to provide a name just irritated her even more. What reason did she have for being afraid of providing it, presuming she was? All Freya asked for was a name and she asked it in a gentle tone, so there was no way she could feel threatened, surely? Sighing, Freya could only return to her feet, while continuing to survey the area.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]“Well, in case you ever need my name, just call me Freya…” she said, careful to maintain her tone, “and I’m sorry if I’m just refusing to leave and if I’m not respecting your wish, but it’s completely clear to me that what you need more than anything now other than somewhere dry is some company. It’s just no good wallowing in despair alone and giving up like that…” taking a deep breath afterwards, Freya was now considering just how she was going to put into words what went through her mind before.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]“I know. I know it’s not any of my business what’s affecting you like this, but I just can’t bear to see it consume you like this. Being stuck on your own with no one to talk to is even worse…” she then crouched down on the pavement beside her, “at one point, I probably felt like doing exactly what you’re doing now. My sisters taken away…my mother died of a horrible condition…and worse, something happened to me that almost made me lose all hope entirely. I began to consider just isolating myself from everyone else because I felt like I couldn’t ever be a part of them anymore – of anyone. But…what use would that be if all it could do is just make me wish to see things end abruptly and to let nature take its course and claim me? I couldn’t let my dead mother see that I was this weak and when I did muster the strength to conquer these demons, I began to see life in a different light. As long as you’re alive and regardless of everything, you just push for something. If you’re afraid of something, try and conquer it and don’t let it win. Not everyone is strong I know, but we’re all capable of exhibiting some strength from within us. That makes us all human in the end, right? I’ve learnt to distance myself from my demons and to tell myself that I’m who I am and that I can just be like everyone else if I want to be…”[/FONT]
 
“Your words mean nothing, creature. Did I not say that there was nothing you could do to me that would be worse than what you had done already?” she snorted at the thought, unmindful of her own sword against her neck. “By all means, kill me. I am unarmed and defenceless. What’s one more life on top of hundreds already taken? Do it.”

She leaned forward ever so slightly, allowing her sword point to scratch her neck. Her Sophia wouldn’t have even thought about doing something like what this creature had described to her own mother. Sophia wouldn’t have restrained and threatened her. Sophia wouldn’t have run away in the first place. She was wasting her breath; she had revealed what she was, and that was that.

Increased the density, had she? Ah, so that was why Rosaline couldn’t move anything asides from her hands, which were pinned to her sides, clenched in fists as her muscles strained to keep her upright. She had not had first-hand experience with the Metal Witch, but she knew her powers, having gathered as much research as she could. It was not surprising that she had done this so quickly. But removing the minerals from a person’s body? That was a new one, assuming she wasn’t bluffing. But if she did that, what kind of state would that leave her in? Doing something like that couldn’t be easy. She was just trying to scare Rosaline at this point. No doubt she could easily do some of the things she had mentioned, but others would almost certainly cost, and why hadn’t she already done them?

…she hadn’t wanted to meet Rosaline here. That was why she was reluctant to kill her now. She had one of the three Witchslayers at her mercy – or so she imagined – and she had absolutely no idea what to do with her. Holding her hostage would only alert the Order to her presence and would serve no purpose anyway, not to mention it was extremely dangerous, and she had just tried and failed to make her an ally. Leaving her would be foolish, for Rosaline knew she would not rest now until this creature was dead, and she probably knew that as well. She was trapped.

If she had Sophia’s memories as she claimed, then she would know that killing Rosaline would draw the attention of the Grey Priestess herself, the vessel for the Goddess. She would be annihilated by a power far greater than her own. She would know Rosaline’s reputation and experience. She was afraid. It wasn’t hesitation that held her back, it was cowardice. An ice-cold clarity washed over Rosaline then as she realised the predicament this creature was in, and the power gifted to her by the Grey Goddess was once again within her grasp as she regained control of herself. She was still angry that this creature had taken her daughter from her, but she would not allow it to control her. She was, first and foremost, a Witchslayer, and she must do her duty. She could grieve afterwards.

However, she would not strike out…yet. Let the creature tire herself out a little, keeping Rosaline’s own sword at her neck; she well knew the weight of that sword, and it couldn’t be easy for her to keep it at such a precise point, whilst simultaneously holding Rosaline down. In any case, she needed to…prepare herself, for what she was about to do. She was confident that, if she allowed the power of the Grey Goddess to fill her, she would be able to move again; her strength multiplied significantly, and the density of her armour would be as nothing. It would be close, but she may be able to kill this monster if she chose the right moment. She had her limits, but this creature had hers as well and, whilst Rosaline didn’t know them, she didn’t know Rosaline’s either. She was willing to stake her life on the line without reservation however, and that gave her the advantage. She did not fear death. This witch obviously did, for if she did not, she would have killed Rosaline before she was even aware of her presence. Ironic, that the mistake would likely cost her her life.

“You’re going to attract attention if you keep this up.” She said lazily, fixing the creature with an icy stare. Yes, let her squirm a little, for all the lives she had taken, including Sophia’s, “You have me entirely at your mercy; a perfect opportunity to rid yourself of one of the biggest threats to your existence. I’m waiting. Kill me, as you killed my daughter…if you have the courage.”

---

Sorry? If she was sorry, then surely she would leave? Lily couldn’t understand humans a lot of the time, and it felt more and more as though she were drifting away from them. So, she was apologizing for interfering, but she was going to keep doing it anyway? This girl – Freya, she had said her name was, although why Lily would want her name when she was going to die soon was a mystery – was incomprehensible. What was running through her mind? Did she truly care what happened to Lily? She acted as though she did, but she had literally just encountered her on the side of the road; she knew nothing about her, not even her name, and she was clearly irritated with her. But then, humans were capable of things she could not understand…was this act of kindness one of them? Had Lily herself not attempted to do much the same thing with her charity work? But then, it was not something one did, it was something one was; a state of mind. Caring could not be forced. But then, she should not judge everyone by herself. Freya, she was capable of more than Lily could understand, being a human, whilst she was just a monster. The problem was with Lily, not with her. Why could she not see that and just leave Lily alone?

Company? Yes, company would be nice…for years now; Lily had wanted nothing more than company. Just one person, one she could trust and confide in, without fear of being betrayed or hurt. Someone who would, in turn, trust and confide in her, so that she could at least feel as though she was worth something, even if it wasn’t very much, to someone else. She had thought – very briefly, and in a moment of madness – that she might have found that person in Alyss, no matter how different their personalities may have been. She thought Alyss had understood what it was to be a monster, and that such a thing could bind them together. But Alyss was a murderer, and the binding they had was nothing at all like what Lily had hoped for; Alyss’ memories weighed down on her like chains, crushing what little humanity she had left, and the girl’s sense of the world corrupted what little humanity she had left. She had destroyed what little of Lily there was left; now she was…nothing. Just a shell, waiting to die. There was nothing worth saving, nothing left to save.

Freya was still talking to her, and Lily could not help but marvel at the girl’s willingness to open up to her, just like that. She didn’t even know her! Why was she telling her these things? Her attitude to them was nothing like Alyss’ – there was a note of sorrow in her voice that had not been present in Alyss’ when she had spoken of her own suffering and loneliness. Lily got the sense that she was talking more for her own sake than for Lily’s…maybe she was lonely, too. Or she had been lonely, at one point. But she didn’t seem to realise that what had worked for her would never work for Lily, there were several crucial differences between them. She couldn’t know this, of course, but unfortunately, Lily did. She had no inner strength. What affected her had already consumed her, body and soul. Assuming she even had a soul.

For all her suffering, Freya remained intact. She hadn’t been violated the way Lily had…it was a selfish, insensi-tive thing to think, but Lily had both her loved ones and her very humanity stripped from her, and now Alyss had robbed her of the one thing she had left: her privacy. Freya still had her humanity left. She couldn’t possi-bly know how Lily felt. Her words surprised Lily, and made her feel a little sorry for her – nobody should suffer that way, after all – but they didn’t really reach her…how could they? They were totally different. When you were the demon, it was difficult to distance yourself from it. Alyss had managed it, with her cold and “logical” way of seeing things, but Lily couldn’t do that. She wanted nothing more than to just be human. She had tried, again and again, to forget about everything, to be around people, but she didn’t fit in with them anymore. Even before she had become a monster, Lily had never really fit in with others. Freya had nothing to worry about – she WAS human, and nothing could change that; she must be older than Lily, so she couldn’t be a witch…unless she was one already, but Lily knew that witches were monsters, and she didn’t see how a girl like this, one who would stop and try to help a complete stranger – even a creature like her – could be capable of evil. Lily could never be human, no matter how much she desperately wanted to be.

“What d-do you w-want from m-me?” Lily asked then, giving in, and surprised to find that she was not as weak as she had thought. It had gotten…warmer. Despite the freezing rain, some warmth was beginning to come back to her body, and she seemed –impossibly - to be getting dryer although this did not please at all. Could she not even die properly? She realised then that the Sun had gone, completely obscured by the clouds, and she was sitting in a shadow. So, the shadows were conspiring to keep her alive. But she felt nothing from them…were they concealing their intent from her as well? How could they? Freya standing in front of her still seemed to be shielding her from the rain almost completely…the wind must have shifted whilst she had been talking to her…or, rather, talking at her, for Lily had said little…she had nothing to say. So even nature rejected her desire to die; but then, she went against everything natural through her very existence, so it wasn’t surprising. But she could not kill herself…at least, not with this girl around, and it appeared that she wasn’t about to let her die, something she seemed quite apologetic about. “I’m not s-strong…n-not brave…just w-weak. Worthless. N-no good t-to anyone. B-better if I j-just die and st-stop w-wasting everyone’s t-time. N-not everyone is worth s-saving.”
 
[FONT=Century Gothic, sans-serif]Jennyver waved farewell to Rosaline as she rushed off, whatever the reason may have been, but clearly she worked with some kind of force around here – one that the Witch hasn't seen before. Nevertheless, there could be a chance that they would cross paths again. She was now left again with Poppy and an additional face, Katyusa, that would more than likely need support getting around, especially in the state she appeared to be in. The rain gradually began to lessen in its hits to the ground, soon to make it's departure from the gardens, so there wouldn't be a total need for the umbrella. [/FONT]


“[FONT=Century Gothic, sans-serif]Looks like it's just us, ladies.” Jennyver said, redirecting her attention to the two smaller girls. Poppy eagerly pointed out the direction of the nearest Costa, which was less than a mile of a walk to. Being grateful for that, the day had only began moments ago, so there was the fat chance that there would be a few people there already. It wasn't odd that rumors and controversy got around a lot in this town, and Jennyver knew that the explosions in Covent Garden earlier would be the topic for most of the talking. [/FONT]


[FONT=Century Gothic, sans-serif]Since Poppy seemed to have the highest pleasure of meeting the blind girl, Jennyver didn't argue when she directed her in the direction they were supposed to go. Pushing some more loose white strands behind her shoulder, Jennyver walked along beside the two, as Poppy clearly knew where she was going. Within just a few minutes the Costa was in sight, and just as she predicted, there were a few more people inside. Some people sat comfortably at a corner reading the paper or talking quietly, while a woman stood on the other side waiting for whatever she ordered. From the look of it, she was getting sick, as her coughing had emphasized that the weather changes weren't exactly treating her well. [/FONT]


“[FONT=Century Gothic, sans-serif]What would you like Katty, Jenny?” Poppy asked as bright as ever while they approached the counter. For the way the weather was now, Jennyver didn't expect it to be warm again for a few hours, so she didn't mind drinking anything hot. Katyusha, however, had never been to a coffee shop, so it would be helpful to get her something that she would have a nice first time experience with. After a bit of quiet consideration, Jennyver met the gaze of the barista. [/FONT]


“[FONT=Century Gothic, sans-serif]I'll have medium sized espresso, with whatever kind of vanilla cream you can add into it.” She said at a pace where the girl could get her order in. She then lowered her head over to where Katyusha stood. “Katyusha, I know this is your first time at a Costa, and they have more than regular brewed coffee. Anything in particular you want that you can think of?”[/FONT]
 
As Katyusha was guided into the coffee shop, her nose was filled with many pleasant aromas. She could hear a few people talking, but couldn’t make out any other voices at all. While the air was filled with many different smells, each and every one of them was good. In fact, there were so many different things to smell, she couldn’t pin point just one. If she could, she wanted to taste everything in there because it all smelled so wonderful.

It was a shame she couldn’t see anymore, she would have liked to have seen the inside of the shop just to get a vague view of what it was like. Poppy continued to guide Katyusha by the hand, and after a while the nagging that she was getting earlier was now completely gone. However, when Poppy asked what Katyusha wanted, she couldn’t give her an answer. It was her first time in a place like this, and the only coffee she had ever got was from her parents when they made it.

Jenny had ordered something called an “espresso”. Was that any good? She really had no idea. It was then that she could feel her lean in closer to speak to her. “Katyusha, I know this is your first time at a Costa, and they have more than regular brewed coffee. Anything in particular you want that you can think of?” Katyusha placed her hand to her head and tried to think about what she wanted, but she couldn’t quite make up her mind.

“I-I don’t know… I’ve never been to a Costa before, and I don’t know what kinds of coffees there are.” She said as she once again tried to make herself see… to no avail. “Something sweet would do. I think I’d like that, if you don’t mind.” She had always liked sweet tasting things. Hopefully it would taste just as good as she thought something like that would taste. Katyusha smiled as she used her free hand to feel around the counter a little bit. As of now, it was the only way she could possibly tell what was around her.

The counter simply from the feel of it was probably plastic made to look like marble or something. It was quite often she felt things like that. As she waited for Poppy to order, she started whispering the names of things she started touching. It was a odd little habit of hers, but it made her feel better about things. "O-oh, thank you both for taking me here. It's very nice of you."
 
“Katty should have an espresso as well. I want water.” Poppy said, quite firmly, to the girl at the counter. She’d discovered that she wasn’t much in the mood for coffee after all. Water would be better for her. “Poppy will get everything. You two should go and sit down.” She said, not too firmly, but firmly enough. She couldn’t have either of them seeing what she was about to do; that’d attract far too much attention, and she’d have a hard time explaining it. She didn’t want people to be suspicious of her quite yet.

When she was certain they were both looking away from her, Poppy pulled a single seed out of her front pocket and dropped it in Katyusha’s coffee. She considered putting one in Jennyver’s as well, but decided against it. Having two immobile toys wouldn’t be much fun, and she was curious to see what this would do to Katyusha.

She should feel its effects almost immediately, mixed in with caffeine, it’d be especially potent…but then, after about four hours, she’d be weaker than a new-born baby, and want to sleep for about a week...something that would be denied her, unless Poppy gave her something else to help her along. But for the next few hours, she’d feel even better than she did now, and it’d be difficult for her to sit still. She had never had this kind of coffee before, so she would likely assume it was just one of the effects of drinking it. Poppy grinned as she slipped the cup into her hands, “There you go, Katty. Be careful, it’s quite hot.”

….not to mention if she drank it all in one go, she might collapse, and that’d be difficult to deal with. Large amounts of some of Poppy’s seeds tended to be fatal, or at least damaging. So long as she took sips, she should be fine. She handed Jennyver her coffee, then took the top off her water, staring at the contents thoughtfully before taking a small sip and replacing the top. Poppy didn’t really get thirsty, not since she had acquired the powers of the Water Witch. Still, it didn’t hurt to have some additional water on hand…making it rain was hard work, and she’d need to do it again later. She’d promised Katty snow, after all, and Poppy always made good on her promises…

---

Emily looked up, startled, as a small girl in green passed her table. Something about her…was very familiar. Where had she seen her before? Emily couldn’t place it; she didn’t make a habit of remembering people. But this girl sparked something in her, and it made her very uneasy. The feeling irritated her quite a bit: what did she have to be uneasy about? It was still daylight, and during the day she was unstoppable.

The girl’s faced turned then, and Emily caught a glimpse of her eyes. Blind. Hadn’t she been in the back of the taxi with the other girl? But Emily had blown that taxi to pieces. That she was still alive could mean only one thing…

“You!” Emily crossed the room in two strides and had the girl by the front of her shirt, lifting her out of her chair, ignoring the cries of shock from the other customers, “Alright, you little bitch, start talking. I blew your fucking car sky high earlier. How are you still alive? Answer me!” she gave her a shake for emphasis, angry and, at the same time, slightly worried. Was this girl a witch? How many of these little brats were there running around in this city?! What about that other girl? What had happened to her? Emily was beginning to think that revealing herself like this had been something of a mistake; she already had that self-righteous whore in black no doubt out for her blood, and that psycho chick in the armour. How many more people were out to get her?

“That isn’t very nice. I think you should put Katty down.”

Emily’s blood turned to ice. Her gaze shifted to the speaker, and she almost laughed. A little girl, she couldn’t be older than eleven or so, dressed in dungarees, with her hands on her hips and wearing an expression that suggested she expected Emily to comply with her wishes immediately. She dropped the girl, and was immediately baffled that she had done so. Since when had she started taking orders? All of a sudden, she was extremely angry: angry with herself, for doing what this girl wanted, and angry at the girl in front of her, for sticking her nose in in the first place.

“And I think you should shut the fuck up and mind your own business, little girl.” Emily replied shortly, trying to ignore the fear she was feeling, and not doing a very good job at it. She wanted nothing more than to run out of the shop, and that was definitely not like her at all. Was it this girl that was causing these feelings? It had to be. But she was just a stupid kid! She turned her gaze back to the blind girl, dismissing the other girl as best she could…which was not very well at all, for her gaze kept shifting to her. Something was definitely off with her; it was taking every ounce of self-control she possessed to stop herself from fleeing. Emily would have laughed, but it wasn’t in her at all; for some stupid reason, she was afraid. She hadn’t been this afraid since she was seventeen.

“I asked you a question. Answer me, or I’ll blow your fucking head off. I’ve had a lousy day, and I’m not in the mood for any bullshit.”

The Sun had re-appeared, and Emily felt better for it. She could blow this entire street up with a snap of her fingers if she wanted to; no more of this charging or concentrating bullshit she’d had to put up with when it was raining. What did she have to be afraid of? Not this girl or any other.
 
Tristana's headache had all but vanished as she traipsed through the streets. She didn't care much for excessive exercise, but she didn't have any commissions for her art, nor had anybody approached her about her dog walking service.

Of course, it would have helped if she'd actually put up her fliers, or updated her online commissions center with contact information and payment method. But of course, to admit that, even internally, would be to admit that she had done something wrong, and...well that just wasn't in her nature.

As she left an alleyway, her awareness suddenly spiked. It was like a rush of heat exploded through her body, and nothing remained but a sudden, striking awareness. The heat was painful. After all, if one didn't swim often, the tide would tire them more quickly, and if one was unused to pondering on a subject they were not experts in, they would only strain themselves. This was a feeling she had felt only once or twice before, and never in such striking quality and quantity.

There was no doubt. The ruckus on the other end of the street, in what looked like some sort of cafe or restaurant. There was shouting from those not directly involved, but even so, had the spark...no, the veritable inferno of magical fire not presented itself, she doubted she would have taken a glance sideways. But here were two, maybe three Witches.

She found herself striding across the road before the traffic lights even turned red, ignoring the blare of horns as she blatantly flaunted the rules of the road. Pushing her hair from her eyes, she touched her hand to her hair and moved it aside for better vision. One of the girls was being lifted by her shirt, the victim of what seemed like the oldest woman. Narrowing her eyes as the situation escalated, she quickened her pace.

As soon as her foot reached the other end of the road, before she had even entered the cafe proper, she let out a loud roar. "Hey! YOU!" she yelled at the older woman, striding into the cafe loudly and slamming the door against the wall, risking the glass that partially formed the door shattering.

Reaching the three, she did not lower her tone. "Jackass!" she hissed. "Have you got no regard for the rules. Are you asking to die?!" Before she could even receive an answer, she calmed herself somewhat, raising a hand and closing her eyes, obviously trying to calm herself. "Just follow me. Now." She opened her eyes again and left the cafe, moving towards a small alleyway. "The three of you."
 
[FONT=&quot]What Freya suddenly wanted to do more than anything was to reveal to this girl who she really was. She was already discreetly attempting to dry her off with gentle breezes summoned from the moist air, and considered increasing the wind speed dramatically, therefore able to lift her up a few feet into the air, carried by the wind as if levitating. Her mouth and fingers seemed eager to do that, but her mind screamed no. As much as she wanted to tell the girl everything – how she was in fact a witch, a human that had been bestowed with these powers by a demonic entity when she turned sixteen and her story of how she had to determinedly fight for the right to continue calling herself a human and not a monster of any kind, that could end up being a fatal mistake. Who knew how many ears could be here now, listening in, reporting to the Order – ready to leap out of the shadows and pounce? [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Did she just imagine it? From the corner of her eye, just as she imagined the idea of members of the Order leaping out of the shadows were she to reveal her identity, she saw a portion of tthe girl's shadow…flickering slightly? Though she made no such body movement herself despite her shivering, Freya could have sworn that she caught the shadow attempting to weakly move on its own somehow? Either that or it could have been completely the machinations of her own paranoid imagination and considering how paranoid she had been today, Freya was willing to accept that explanation. Perhaps this was just telling her that she ought to head home and acquire some rest rather than allow herself to be drenched in the torrential rain for the sake of an obstinate yet despairing stranger on the street? [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Maybe it would be what someone else would do, but not me. Here I am, trying to get some words into her and she’s doing all she can to resist me, yet I’m still carrying on. All I seem to be able to do now is to gently blow away the raindrops…[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“I’m not s-strong…n-not brave…just w-weak. Worthless. N-no good t-to anyone. B-better if I j-just die and st-stop w-wasting everyone’s t-time. N-not everyone is worth s-saving,” upon hearing these words, Freya could only shake her head in disagreement. It may have been fine to accept that as a person you are weak, she thought to herself, but nobody this young should call themselves a worthless piece of life that should just be snuffed away. How it secretly angered her; Freya believed in the best in everybody, as long of course, they deserved that sympathy and another chance. She refused to accept that this girl had ever committed anything before in her life that would warrant the removal of her right to carry on living and to press on, particularly as she was indeed by the looks of it, younger than her. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]“You’re wrong,” Freya said, determined to put her foot down now, “you’re still young. You should be looking ahead to all those years in front of you now. When my mother was dying, she never had that opportunity and I spent years vainly caring for her, despite accepting that inevitability. After she died, I considered ending it too. I lost my sisters. I lost my mother. I was beginning to lose myself, but I was and am, still very young. I was not about to throw away everything and just become the dust like this. Despite what was heavily affecting me…” as she spoke, the memories would come flooding back.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]When the Horned King visited her, He himself seemed surprised at Freya’s response to his actions. She did not cry in horror and attempt to reject her powers immediately. Back when she was sixteen, Freya’s purpose was bound to caring for her deteriorating mother and her sisters. When her mother died and her sisters departed to live with their uncle, everything just shattered. With her one real purpose now no more, she simply wanted to pursue a normal life, but could only think about the powers that were bestowed to her. She was now carrying a bounty on her head – she was now merely a quarry – to be hunted down by her brethren and to be killed for her powers. Potentially she could be an enemy of the state were the Order able to find out who she was. As a young girl, all this terrified her. She could think of nothing but a possible life as a fugitive - and what kind of life would that be? Still, she persevered with it, determined to maintain her normality and in trying to help this girl now, maintain the right to call herself a human as well.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“The point is; it’s not over. You can’t allow it to be over even if you currently can’t understand why. All I can tell you – is that no matter what’s deeply troubling you inside, you can’t let it conquer you that easily. I don’t believe that you have done any evil and neither are you voluntarily able to do any in the future. This is why I refuse to believe that you are a waste of space,” Freya began harking back thoughts of her wind powers. An element as graceful and light as the wind seemed like a harmless power, yet if she were fuelled by enough rage, she could potentially lay ruin to an entire city with enormous funnels of destructive wind. She could summon entire hurricanes and tornadoes without as much of a warning and just order them to kill, kill, kill. A terrifying thought, but a possible one, and something that Freya determinedly fought to ensure that it could never happen, as long as she could control her powers and not remain a slave to it. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Oh look, the sun might be starting to come out,” Freya said, this sudden enchanting sight snapping her out of the thoughts of destructive tornadoes and tempests. The sun was fighting. The clouds were resisting, but the sun remained gallant, its rays attempting to pierce through the layers. The sun just wanted a glimpse of the world below, as if to smile down on everyone and to reassure them that everything would be alright. If only for this girl then…[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]“I know!” the thought suddenly came to Freya, and despite the redundancy of going back in there, she wanted to take the girl and escape from this hellhole of a wet roadside by an alleyway anyway, “Say erm, how about I take you to Costa? You know, the coffee shop? It’s bound to be cosy in there and I can buy you something to drink while we dry up!” Freya knew that the girl’s answer would be a resounding no considering it looked like she was willing to allow nature to slowly erode her on this very street before Freya’s interference, but with the sun about to come out soon and the breeze picking up (this was of course, unnatural, but the girl wouldn’t know that), it didn’t look like nature was going to allow it to happen either.[/FONT]
 
Katyusha smiled as Poppy ordered for her. It seemed that she would be having an espresso as well. She didn’t mind at all as she had never had anything here before. Not to mention she couldn’t exactly read the menu anyway. When Poppy told them to go sit down, Katyusha was more than happy to do so. Luckily as she turned around she felt her arm bump into a chair. She felt around like she always did until she found out which direction the seat was in. Once she figured that out she sat and smiled.

She hadn’t ever been around people so nice before. Well, there were her parents, but that was to be expected. They had to be nice to her. Jenny and Poppy were nice; very nice, and they didn’t even have to be. As she was thinking about it, a cup was put into her hands. From the feel of it, it was very hot and warm. As if to confirm what she thought, Poppy warned her that it would be hot. Katyusha nodded her head in conformation.

She took a small sip of the coffee. Just like she wanted, it was somewhat sweet, but with the bitter taste of coffee. Yet it blended very well. She placed her cup on the table and lifted her head, “thank you, Po-“. That was all she managed to say before she was interrupted by a voice that sounded very familiar. “You!”, it yelled. Katyusha must have jumped ten feet in the air. No one had ever really yelled like that… at least not at her. Before she knew exactly what was happening, she felt someone grab at her shirt and lift her up.

Almost instantly, Katyusha started crying. She was absolutely terrified. Even if she could see at that moment, it would have been shut right back off again as she was lifted up. “Alright, you little bitch, start talking. I blew your fucking car sky high earlier. How are you still alive? Answer me!” Katyusha’s eyes widened when she realized what the woman was talking about. It was that scary woman from earlier! The same woman that made Lily scream… who was looking for Lily, and who had tried to kill them was holding her in the air as if she was a ragdoll.

And she was calling her mean names. No one had ever refered to Katyusha like that before. How could they? She was always so nice to people and treated everyone she met dearly… and this person comes along and attempts to kill her one second and was now calling her rude names while hurting her the next. Why was she doing this to her? Tears streamed down her face as the neck of her shirt dug into her flesh and the woman screamed at her.

“That isn’t very nice. I think you should put Katty down.” Was that Poppy? Why was Poppy trying to help her? She should have been running! Poppy was just a little girl. There wasn’t anything she could do. The crazy woman was going to hurt and kill her too… The woman dropped Katyusha to the ground and started speaking to Poppy. Katyusha was so scared that when her feet hit the ground her legs buckled under the pressure and the rest of her body hit the ground as well.

“And I think you should shut the fuck up and mind you own business, little girl.” She replied to Poppy. At this point Katyusha was desperately patting the ground attempting to find her chair. She just wanted to go home. None of this was fair, nothing was fair. Why couldn’t she just enjoy her coffee? “I asked you a question. Answer me, or I’ll blow your fucking head off. I’ve had a lousy day, and I’m not in the mood for any bullshit.”

Katyusha’s crying picked up and she started sobbing so hard that it was hard for her to speak. “I-I-I di-didn’t do a-anything… pl-please don’t k-kill me…” Her hands found her chair as she slowly started to attempt to pick herself up. It was then that another loud, booming voice rang in her ears. However, she didn’t recognize this voice. It was the voice of a woman… and a rather angry one at that. She yelled at the crazy woman, and she yelled at them to run, but Katyusha was too scared to move.

Essentially, it was the lesser of two evils. She could either stay here with one angry woman that wanted to kill her or go with another angry woman that she knew nothing of. She told them all to run, but in the panic, Katyusha had forgotten where she was in relation to the door. As Katyusha slowly grabbed her coffee as she desperately attempted to figure out where she was. However, being blind, scared, and helpless all she managed to do was hide under the table and hug her coffee cup. It was warm and nice… compared to the crazy lady and her cold and mean voice.

“I-I just w-want to go home…” she said, taking another sip of her coffee. She simply sat on the floor under the table and started wishing that all of these bad things would stop happening to her.
 
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