Chapter Text

Chapter One: Drawn Blade, Drawn Breaths

The Witch

She was adrift, somewhere hollow and noisy and plentiful and quiet. The world was tearing her apart and putting her back together. Pieces, by pieces, by pieces. She was a singular atom colliding with many others, suddenly forming something large and inexplicable. She was there for a second, and then she was gone.

Witch's eyes opened with ease, as if she had just awoken from a normal sleep. Damp cedar, stiff air, faint dust floating about. Her surroundings slowly warmed up to her perception. A shiver rattled down her spine, making her tail twitch. She sucked in air through her teeth while blinking away the blur fogging up her sight. The hairs on her arms and calves stood up, desperate to trap heat in this biting cold.

She knew exactly where she was. It was the only place she ever knew, after all. Except, something had changed this time. This time was...wrong. She wasn't shackled to the far wall of a basement. She wasn't engulfed by its shadows. There was no staircase at the opposite end.

Instead, it was bright. Beneath her were the lifeless wooden floorboards she had longed to set her feet upon not long ago. And now, here she was, standing right in the middle of the cabin, with a pristine blade perched on the edge of the table by the corner. 

She huffed.

Oh, this is a little too easy.

Witch couldn't let her guard down like that. That would only be entirely stupid.

Her first instinct, after observing, prompted her to turn around. Her escape should be right behind her, if this place was still what it meant to be.

Aha,

No door, just a solid wall,

Sick thing. I'm wise to your ways now.

She rolled her eyes forcefully, her hands reaching up around herself to stroke her arms. 

Witch returned her attention to the rest of the room.

Okay, well, there's still the windows. 

Witch approached the window pane on her right. It let in slivers of pale light. Where did that come from, anyway?

She peered out, bracing herself to see the expression her freedom wore on its face now.

Empty. Endless white. Empty, yet everything at the same time. How could it be?

The light was blinding her. Witch staggered, retreating from the window.

Burning light shredding her retinas. The promise of everlasting existence beckoning her. Why couldn't she look away?

Stop. Stop it. Stop it-

That cannot be her freedom, can it? 

Was her freedom always so...daunting?

STOP IT!

She tore her gaze away from the windows. Witch panted, sweat surfacing on her armpits. 

Shuddering, she steadied herself against the table in the corner. 

You're lying to me.

Her nails dug into the brittle wood of the table, chips flaking off at the effort. She took a sharp breath and exhaled, taking her time. The blade's surface glimmered. 

Exhaling, Witch adjusted her thoughts. She didn't want to fall into the trap of existential despair just yet, wondering about where she was or if there even was an "outside," or if she even mattered. She was here, alright. But she didn't belong here. Witch had to work with what she did know about herself and her place.

This is not funny.

Witch picked up the pristine blade. Her head pounded, the memory of death enveloping her stomach in a wave of nausea. The irony of the situation wasn't lost to her. Witch was holding the very weapon that was used to kill her - her murder-weapon. 

Witch drew a deep breath one more time before pulling her weight off of the table and stepping in the direction of the basement door. 

Whatever was behind this door, down in the sorry basement, was the only thing she could rely on now. What would she find there? Would it be empty? Or would she find something far worse than even her murderer?

She grasped the handle and opened the door. It creaked as the warm air infused with rot wafted upwards.

Nowhere to go but down. 

And so she stepped onto the staircase.

Something shuffled beneath - movement of feet, or fabric, swift against the stone floor of the basement she knew by heart. 

Witch tightened her grip on the blade.

"Good! You're here now. Just get down here already and give me a real fight!"

A deep voice boomed.

Witch gulped. 

So, she did have a guest. And she had no idea who they were. This prison is mine, she proclaimed in her mind. The voice had an aggressive edge to it, and she knew she didn't love that. But maybe if she played this game right, she could get away unscathed. 

Witch remained quiet until she made it to the bottom of the stairs. 

"Oh, come on," the other voice moaned, "pick up the pace a little!"

Witch stepped into view. Her nails scarred her palm in which the blade was, coated by her sweat. She ensured the arm was out of view, keeping the blade behind her back. Her tail lay gently to the side, conforming her silhouette to the depth of the room.  

Witch's eyes met the other woman's. Well, she knew it was a woman from her voice earlier, but she wasn't so sure what she had expected. The woman before her had a muscular build. Her right hand rested on her hip that jutted out slightly, giving her a sassy stance. Witch's gaze dropped to her hand, where she noticed a familiar dark metal encasing the woman's wrist.

"Hey, who are you?" The woman yelled, disappointment evident in the emphasis she placed on the last word.

"Why, were you expecting something else?"

"You know what, I don't care! Where's the bird?"

So, she knows about that nasty thing.

"Hm? I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"I'm so bored of waiting. The only thing I want is to wring that chicken's neck!"

Witch chuckled nervously. She had to keep her composure.

"Well, I don't know about that but," Witch spoke, choosing her words with caution, "maybe if we find a way out of here, we can find your bird too."

The woman cocked her head and placed her left palm against the slope of her neck in contemplation. Her eyes narrowed on Witch's figure. 

"Why would I care about getting out of here? I can easily do that if I wanted to."

Witch raised an eyebrow. "With that thing around your wrist? Are you sure?"

"Oh, do you wanna try me? You know, I can forget about the bird if you can give me what I want!" 

The burly woman placed a foot forward and balled her hands into fists. 

Witch's ears perked up at the movement.

I don't want to get caught up in this type of game.

Witch thumbed the blade, as if to make sure it was still in her grasp and hadn't run away while she wasn't looking. 

She didn't want to use the thing. There had to be another way, right?

"Okay, I lied." Please work. "I know where your bird is. You can finish whatever the two of you started if I get you to him, right?"

"Sure. I'd love to smash his beak into bits. But, I'm getting sick of waiting here. I can just get a little practice right now."

"You don't really want that, do you? Think about it, do you really want to give up the rush - the adrenaline - of finally getting your hands on that wretched creature just for me and my mean form, where it probably wouldn't even last that long? I think the wait'll be worth it, to be honest with you. I think you've got the patience, and you know, I'm sure you'll be rewarded abundantly if you save it for the big guy once you get to him."

Witch paused for breath, looking onto her potential killer with what she hoped was a relaxed, encouraging sort of expression. 

The seconds that passed seemed to borrow from eternity, the way the captive woman stared at her, striking her down with her presence alone. Witch only hoped it wasn't visible.

"I guess you're right." The woman grunted, looking away.

Witch sighed, letting her shoulders drop some tension. 

"But," the woman shifted her hand, the chain rattling alongside her, "where the hell is he? Why are you even here?"

If only I knew. 

"Oh, I won't go around giving you all the answers so easily, little monster."

The woman's face twisted at the nickname. She stared at Witch, evidently trying to comprehend it.

"Fine. Then what do you want to do? I'm tired of waiting."

I'd know about that.

"Well, have you thought about how to get yourself out of that chain?" Witch drew circles on the blade in her hand with her thumb. 

"Ah! It's really easy, look!" 

Before Witch could say another word, the woman's fist flew to the opposite direction of the shackle, the chains clattering against the floor in a hideous cacophony. Her arm, rigid and trembling, thrusted forward with what seemed to be all her effort. The woman slammed herself against the wall on the other side, the shackle still bounding her wrist, but the chain having slithered down into a pile at the end wall of the basement. Panting, she straightened her posture and flashed a triumphant grin at Witch. "It was no match for me, really." 

Witch shifted around, making sure the blade behind her back was still out of sight. She'd have to think about how to keep it on her without having to be so cautious all the time. But that was for later.

"Impressive," Witch admired. The woman cracked her knuckles, heavy steps bringing her closer to Witch. She inspected her up and down, her eyes resting on Witch's tail flailing about in the air behind her.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Witch cleared her throat. "Well, little monster, let's leave this cabin, shall we?"

The woman scoffed and gestured towards the staircase. "Let's go already."

Witch allowed the hulking woman to walk in front of her. The woman didn't seem to mind at all.

When they arrived back on the main floor of the cabin, the woman was already headed to the empty wall opposite to them. 

"It'll take a bit of work, but this wall is really nothing to me." She seemed to be sizing it up.

Witch observed her and the room. The windows were a curiosity she wanted to investigate further.

"What about the windows? You can try breaking them and we can escape that way."

The woman turned around, looking for the subject of suggestion. She approached the window by the table. 

Grunting, she peeled her eyes away almost immediately. "It's so.." she choked on her words, "so bright."

"I know. Can you try to break them?"

"I..I can't look at them for too long."

The way you tore off that chain in a few seconds, I don't know if that's a big problem for you.

But she didn't say this.

"Okay, so...let's try to break down the wall."

The woman nodded, and having regained her strength, stomped off to the wall once again. Witch glanced quickly at the blade in her hand.

To use this thing on you...I wouldn't dare. No, not yet. You'll find me a way out of here, and I'll leave. But if you cause too much trouble before I can do that...

The woman's fists landed against the wooden boards of the wall. Something crunched with the blow, and Witch couldn't tell whether it was the woman's bones or a crack in the wall.

This was it. Witch wouldn't have to worry about anything for now. She had a weapon. And she was almost out of here. Soon enough, this whole thing would become a distant memory.

"Hey, you're gonna want to check this out,' the woman called. 

Witch walked over, peeking above the woman's muscular shoulders to see the damage she had done. 

A small chunk had fallen out and a hole had formed in the wall, just enough to peek through it and see what was on the other side.

Witch levelled her eyes with the hole.

"No-"

"It looks like you and I are gonna be here for a while, little weasel."

No no no no no-

Through the hole, Witch could discern the interior of a cabin identical to the one they were in right now. A splitting image, perfectly congruent.

Freedom must have been laughing wickedly at her circumstances, rejoicing in her misery.