In front of a full-length mirror, a coquettish witch was preparing for a leisure walk around the city. She was freshly bathed and had put on a beautiful lingerie that matched the color of her eyes. At her side on a chair was the black velvet dress, freshly washed and ironed by magic. There were also the high-heeled shoes that were a gift from her mother, the semi-transparent veil with which she habitually protected her face and, on one side, the pointed hat.
The young woman retouched her makeup, in a beautiful Gothic style, and combed the pretty red curls again and again. Afterwards she painted the nails of her delicate feet and also those of her fine hands. Later, she got perfumed and prepared her clothes, and then got dressed. She admired herself in the mirror; turning around to check all the angles.
Oh, she was so beautiful! A whole diva!
A few meters away, in the same room, a white pussycat and a gray pussycat did the same in front of a mirror each. They too had bathed and perfumed. Also, both of them wore their gala collars, beautiful pieces of black dragon leather decorated with shiny gemstones made of magic crystals and fossilized troll eyes, and little pearl earrings in their ears.
The white cat tried a lot of different pairs of sunglasses. She took each one of these from a long line of them that were kept in a nearby dresser. The gray cat combed her fur with a little brush over and over again and settled an elegant pink bow on her head.
Although they occasionally spoke, mainly to tell themselves how beautiful they were, each one was really absorbed in their own thoughts. Especially the young human. She was mulling over about what she always thought when she was getting ready for a leisure walk. What she considered was something like this.
Will this finally be the day I meet the love of my life?
It was a world-renowned truth that a witch that is single and possessing a store of horrors, needs a husband. Or, if she plays for the other team, a wife. Maybe even both. Why not?
In these times it is not so strange, and also, for a woman to be considered very modern, one has to make an effort to keep an open mind. Right?
Or at least that's what her dear cooking teacher used to say when they were preparing food on the old days at school.
Wait, that's was not exactly it. What were her dear mind flayer teacher's words again?
Zanthia knew that she probably did not get that quite right. The mind flayers usually talked in an ancient language of his race when teaching how to cook. A language that she was not very proficient on.
It was very difficult to understand him and Zanthia sometimes made mistakes when she tried to fill in the blanks. Also, there is to consider all those tentacles the mind flayers have over their mouths. It made words so hard to hear...
How was she supposed to understand what her teacher was saying in those conditions? Maybe that was the reason why mind flayers used telepathy most of the time. But her teacher did not like to use telepathy in the kitchen.
Maybe ,what he said was, that for a woman to be considered very tender, one has to make an effort to keep the brain open?
Who knows? Mind flayers have such weird sayings! Nevermind.
The important thing is that the more people there are to give a hand, the better. After all, running a shop of horrors is a lot of work. It is very clear if you think about it a little.
First you have to clean the alley, the facade, the ground floor and all the interior of the store until it is all shiny and gleaming. Afterwards, you have to open the shop for business and attend to the customers with a smile, even if you do not feel like doing it that day and prefer to stay in bed.
Later it is necessary to renovate the showcase of the store, arming it with the most striking products to attract customers. Then, you have to clean the alley, the façade, the ground floor and the interior of the store for the second time, just to be sure, because you already know that microbes are very treacherous.
Before that, you have to feed the cats that are quite ungrateful and do not appreciate the candies that a witch does with so much love and affection. A little later when the clients have already arrived, we must avoid that the children eat all the goodies since they appreciate them a little too much for their own health.
In addition, we must ensure that the horrors of the store do not escape because they insist on eating the customers as if they were sweets. And that is really wrong because it was very clear that the clients are not sweet at all, most have a very bitter taste, others bland, and a few, quite sour.
Plus, restocking the sold merchandise is a must. Also you have to review the inventory and think about attractive offers for customers. Of course, it is necessary to clean again, the alley, the facade, the ground floor and the interior of the shop, especially if the children do ate candy. But there is more. You have to fulfill the missions of the system, which is quite annoying, by the way. A lot of missions!
Finally, you have to study and practice witchcraft a couple of hours every day, because if you won't do it then another witch may come and surpass yourself and that is not good at all. No, madam! The owner of a shop of horrors has her dignity.
While Zanthia pondered in this way and the cats finished getting ready, Little Sun was lying belly up on a stone bench. A single ray of sunlight, seeping through the nearby buildings, gave directly in his body and provided him with the heat that he liked so much. He had been like this for two hours and he knew that, if he guided himself by previous occasions, he still had roughly another half hour before the witch and the cats showed up.
All three were very flirtatious and refined. Coquettish. They talked about all those matters of fashion that he did not understand at all. He still remembered with certain distaste that time the three had insisted that he put on a tuxedo.
A tuxedo! Had someone ever seen such a thing? Of course he does not accept it. A cat had its dignity. And he was the most dignified and majestic of all cats. A king. Maybe he would have used a crown, if he had been asked in the proper way and with good manners. But a tuxedo? No, there was no possibility at all.
Finally, after much waiting, the oak door of the store opened to let out a young and gorgeous witch accompanied by two beautiful pussycats. Little Sun sat up languidly and looked at them carefully.
"And what do you think?" said the witch, while slowly spinning around so he could appreciate all the details of her attire.
"You are splendid! All three of you are definitivamente wonderful! " complimented the black cat.
The pussycats and the witch smiled satisfied and even giggled a little. Afterwards, they started walking down the alley. Little Sun cat went after them.
*CLICK! CLACK! CLICK! CLACK! CLICK! CLACK!*
The sound of the witch's shoes echoed in the distance as the shop's inhabitants got out from the alley into the streets of the city.
In the distance, on the roof of a nearby building, a shadowy and mysterious figure observed the situation through a retractable spyglass. As the witch and the cats walked away, the figure followed discreetly through the roofs of the buildings. He seemed determined not to lose sight of them.
Without suspecting anything, Zanthia walked happily looking at the stained-glass windows of nearby businesses. A laundry. A hairdressing salon. A fruit stand. A tailor shop. A butchery. A smithy. The typical sounds of these businesses coexisted with the daily work of the inhabitants of the nearby buildings and houses.
Children playing in the street, under the watchful eye of a fat lady. A grocer chasing a dog that had a strip of sausages in its mouth. A couple passionately kissing each other, semi-hidden under the shade of the wall of an alley. A tall man in rusted armor and helm on a malnourished horse trotting slowly down the street closely followed by a fat man on a stubborn mule. A group of people next to an overturned cart arguing about the crash and the falling merchandise.
The street was not very wide but it was quite busy. People walked fast, without stopping for no reason but to take care of their own business. There were some exceptions, of course, but most dwellers did not seem to be in the mood to start a conversation. The sidewalks were pretty dirty and smelled bad. The houses and nearby buildings were old and not in very good condition. With the exception of a few well-fenced mansions of the Abercrombie Trading Company, which were as effectively protected by guards as well maintained by servants, the rest of the houses were typical of a poor neighborhood.
But much more unpleasant than material poverty was poverty of spirit. In some streets, groups of nasty looking people with malign faces could be appreciated, no more than two or three, which like raptors they observed the passers-by and occasionally they followed some of them.
Every so often there was a muffled moan or a cry for help and the sound of running. These predators fed on the poor and defenseless, taking away the few coins they managed to collect by working hard. Sometimes, they also took their lives.
However, none of this was a matter of the witch and the cats but it was a problem for the city guards. And after each incident, soon a patrol appeared, well armed and determined to restore order. After all, in the eyes of the rulers this was the Capital and a minimum of decorum had to be maintained. What would foreign visitors think if the thugs were left to do what they wanted?
That was why the guards regularly conducted their patrols until well after nightfall. Their actions succeeded in mitigating, to a large extent, acts of violence, but not entirely.
However, there was an incident that the witch and the cats could not ignore. And that was because the incident went directly to them in the form of a girl. Running very fast. Too fast to stop.
*ZOOM!*
*SQUISH!*
"Meeeoooowouch!"
*BUMP!*
"Ouch!"
*SMASH!*
*CRASH!*
*PLAM PLAM PLAM!*
"My stall! My poor oranges! What a mess! And now, who is going to pay for all this? "
The sequence of events was as follows.
First, the ragged, undernourished kid with carrot-orange hair running at full speed accidentally stepped on Moon's tail, which was distracted looking at a shop window of a nearby store. The white cat gave a long plaintive meow but the young girl did not stop.
Second, the cat's meow managed to get the attention of the redhead kid, who turned the head to try to see with her sad emerald eyes what it was that she had stepped on. However, because she kept running without stopping, she also did not see the witch who was only a couple meters away and hit headfirst against the stomach of a surprised Zanthia.
Third, the two could verify that there was a beautiful sunset, with a cloudless sky and a sun that seemed to smile at them. The two redheads knew it because they were lying face up on the floor due to the force of the impact. Both had eyes and wide open mouths of surprise and unexpected pain.
Fourth, the felines approached them, slowly and cautiously, to check on them. It must be said that Moon was still quite shocked and checked constantly her injured tail. The witch tried to catch her breath, without much success, while clutching her belly.
Finally, the girl grabbed her head in pain and then held on to something to try to get up as fast as she could. Sadly, what she grabbed was the slack leg of the support of a nearby oranges' stall, causing it to come loose. The stall was unexpectedly dismantled by this action and kilos and kilos of oranges fell on them and also on the cats.
So there, they all were, half buried under a mountain of oranges and listening to the pitiful complaints of a disconsolate fruit´s tenderer when the persecutors of the girl finally arrived.
"We found her!"
"Captain, she is here!"
"Surround her! Don't let her escape!"
It was a full squad of burly and bad-tempered city guards. They were sweating, as it is not easy to run after a ragged and elusive little girl, especially carrying all that heavy armor on their bodies. In addition, more than one had stumbled and fallen during the chase, staining themselves with the debris on the floor. But not the Captain. This bearded and muscular officer was immaculately clean and had an imposing appearance mounted as he was on a beautiful white horse.
Contrary to what should be expected, the vendor fell silent instead of continuing to complain and denounce the girl. She had recognized the Captain of the patrol. They called him Goldenbeard and not because of the color of his beard, which was brown, but because he used to squeeze merchants till their last gold coin using whatever excuse he could think of.
Yesterday, she had been forced to pay a "security and hygiene fee" to be able to continue operating during this month. That hideous man ripped the gold coins out of the vendor, the only two she had after so much hard work. So, if Goldenbeard pursued the girl, surely it was not good at all.
And now they were here...
Slowly, the witch got up from under all the oranges. Then, she spat out a small orange that had gotten into her mouth. Afterwards she retrieved her hat and smoothed down a dented part before putting it on.
At that moment, after noticing the arrival of her persecutors, the girl also hurriedly got up and tried to run. But it was too late, the group of city guards had blocked all possible ways of leaving.
"Tsk,tsk, you really should not try to get away from the forces of law, girl."
"Ho, ho, no exit! The best thing is to surrender at once! You are trapped!"
The bearded captain approached his horse and with a sinister smile said loud and clear for all to hear:
"Opal Twister! You are arrested for murder! "
The small figure of the girl trembled at those words and the clear green eyes of the kid, beautiful as emeralds, sprang a tear.