Short Stories: The Lone Witch

“Do you hear it?”, The unionized whisper of what sounded like thousands upon thousands of people echoed throughout Paris’s head. She had drifted away to a recurring dream that had started right after her 15th birthday, just a few months ago. They all started the same, she would find herself standing in infinite darkness, that of a void. With nothing but a spot light like soft glow, barely bright enough to see details past the silhouette of her hand. And although she couldn’t see it - she could feel the cool water blanketing her toes.

“Do you hear it?” It rang again.

Hear what!? Paris’s mind raged in a flurry of frustration, I can’t hear anything!

“Listen…”, it exhorted in that same ghostly whisper, as if it had heard her every thought.

In a huff, Paris closed her eyes in an attempt to clear her train of thought, slowing her breath. Following the instructions of the voice, she listened. Her ears are impatient - eager to grasp onto anything; a light breeze; the sloshing of water - anything! But all there was only silence…

What was she even listening for- pitter -wait- patter - was that- pitter - rain? Paris’s ears clung to the sound - patter - her eyes squeezing shut in fear that if she opened them she would be greeted by silent darkness once more- pitter - afraid of losing the note. Afraid of the possibility of being left with the deafening sound of silence if she opened her eyes. Clinging to every drop of rain, she listened as the raindrops picked up - pitter-patter - and up - pitter-patter - never opening her eyes even as the raindrops pelted her head and shoulders, feeling like pebbles as they collided with her skin. Not when those sounds of rain turned into a downpour. Nor when the smell of wet compost surrounded her. Not even when she felt leaves and twigs poking at her feet. It wasn’t until she heard a startling BOOM! Did her eyes shoot open with a gasp.

Paris was not greeted by the usual darkness of endless nothing, but instead by the darkness of night. Her feet are greeted by the damp ground of leaves and dirt. Which made sense because all around her, was a dense forest. The light of the moon barely made it past the quilted leaves. BOOM! Paris jumped at the sound. She had become so caught up in thought she had forgotten it was raining. It must have been a thunderstorm. She thought as flashes of light peeked through, followed by the sound of thunder.

“Do you hear it?”, The echoic whispers were the same despite the change of scenery, “Listen…”

Paris knew what that meant, she wasn’t done searching. But what was she searching for? Keeping her ears open, she wandered through the forest. She was glad to be out of that purgatory, She loved the feeling of the earth beneath her feet, the smell of rain mixed with the scent of the composting forest floor, the feel of the humidity of the air, the music of raindrops kissing the leaves above swaying with the breeze, the crunching of leaves in the distance - Paris stopped dead in her tracks. Leaves crunching, in the distance? She focused her hearing to the crunching of the leaves.

Suddenly her dream warped towards the noise until she saw it - the source of the sound. It was a woman, in nothing but a tattered nightgown, dirtied as if she had been traveling for hours. Her long Auburn locks littered with tangles and knots. With feet bare and bruised, caked with dried blood and mud. Her Amber eyes burned with an urgency: fear plastered on her face. The woman looked over her shoulder every other second as she whipped through the forest. Paris followed her gaze and saw them, Three men dressed like security guards of a prison mixed with that of a hunter. With dogs, no wolves, huge wolves, their length could match the height of the men, but stood at least half the height of their wielders running at high speeds.

The woman looked back and flung a hand behind her, and one of the wolves yelped. Out of nowhere, the ground exploded under the thing leaving it flung on its side, twitching. Wasting no time the woman didn’t even bother to look to see the damage she had caused. She now had a good lead on the guards, leaping over fallen trees and ditches.

“She’s been running for eight hours straight!”, One of the guards yelled at the others, “Shouldn’t she be tired!”

“She’s almost at the road!”, the second one yelled back, “SHIT!”

“Fucking Witch...”, the third one mumbled under his breath only to shout an order, “Torri, fetch!”

With that, the biggest of the beasts charged, gaining quickly. The woman panicked and kept her eyes on the thing, as she pushed herself to move faster. Then, she tripped. Time seemed to slow down as she fell. The woman’s face displayed a look of fearful defeat. But this was only for a second. As time resumed to normal, she rolled over just in time for her back to hit the ground. Torri took the chance and lunged at her throat. In an instant, a red glow overtook the woman’s amber eyes as she lifted her legs. Kicking the beast in the ribs with an unimaginable amount of force. Sending it flying towards a tree branch. Paris watched in horror as the branch pierced clean through the wolf. The wolf maintained its velocity all the way to the trunk. With the force of the impact bringing down the branch. The guards weren’t even phased, like it was a normal thing that happened. The other two guards went on ahead, as the third attempted to slide the beast off the branch.

Paris tore her eyes away from the sight and whirled around to see the woman, but she was gone, she had taken off as soon as she sent the thing flying. Paris spun in circles trying to figure out what direction the woman sped off in. Panic seeping in. Then there was a sound, out of place. It was crying, a baby’s crying. Paris rushed in the direction of the wails, hoping that they would lead her to the woman. As Paris’s legs grew heavy She found the woman. She was soothing a baby, wrapped up in a wool cape coat trimmed with fur. Rocking it back and forth in her arms. Is that her baby!? Paris thought in disbelief, She looks like she hasn’t even hit 20 yet!? But that didn’t matter now, the remaining wolves were catching up with the guards not too far behind. Time was running out, and she needed to get out of there quickly. The baby had finally quieted down but the woman was still bouncing her, Paris hadn’t realized before but the tree the woman was standing next to had a huge hollowed-out hole in its trunk and was marked with a rag that matched the fabric of the woman’s nightgown. Was she going to leave the baby?

“My beautiful baby girl”, the woman gasped on the verge of tears.

She opened her mouth once more and said something that lay deaf on Paris’s ears. Then after the woman kissed the baby’s head for a final goodbye, she reached up, placing the baby girl in the tree hollow, before she turned to continue running. The young woman was visibly pained by having to leave her child, her knowing expression mournful, as if knowing that she would never see her child again. The woman was reminded that she had no time to dwell on things as the wolves’ peeved growls and snarls grew too closer to her as she willed her feet to go faster. She never stopped her pace even as her legs ached and her feet gave sharp shots of pain as thorns and splinters dug into her with every step. Never letting go of the fearful breath she’d been holding since the start of this chase even as the lights of passing cars on the road ahead started to guide her like a lighthouse. Except she wanted towards that danger to get away from the one looming behind her. Continuing to run, pouring in all that she was into each step, but her escape was fruitless.

In the end, she was caught, only a few feet before the road, before someone could see her and take her away from there. But she didn’t go down without a fight, and it was a sight to behold. She took down 3 of the wolves, and two of the guards. Some of them she took down by her sheer might, beating them down, and others by unexplainable events caused by a flick of her hand. It wasn’t until one of the 2 remaining wolves had bitten her deep in the shoulder and the third guard gave her some sort of shot, was she able to be detained by the guards. She could no longer resist their forceful shove back towards wherever they came from. But she didn’t have that look of fear or defeat like before. She had a new fire burning in her amber eyes. One to survive, not to escape. She had completed her goal, to get her baby out of there. To give her a chance of a better life. Paris had respect for this woman, like every time this dream has occurred. She’s never made it this far in the dream before. Turning around to head out to see what happened to the baby, to hopefully end this dream loop for good. But as she went to take a step, the ground was gone, she was back in the endless nothing, but this time there was no ground, she was falling, and she kept falling, down, down, dow - SMACK!