Abbie is digging up the bodies. Abbie has no shoes and has a dirty look. Carrying a shovel with a lantern with an RIP to her mother.
Speaking in German.
"Papa! When do you think it'll be better for us?" Abbie asked her father whose eyes had been obscured.
"How things turned out, I doubt it would ever. But we might not see it happen." He replied with a tone of realism. "Just keep burying them."
"Do you think mom is in a better place?" Abbie asked him as he moans over her.
"Well is at a much better place than this one." He replied.
§
In the present day, Abbie is sitting in an open grave. Looking down as she's holding a box that has an old tiny shovel with Gemstones. Her Wand idea.
"Hey, Abbie." Almira is leaning on the tombstone. "You seem to be troubled. Want to talk about it?"
She looked up to see Almira on the tombstone. "That's disrespectful to the dead."
"So does sitting in their final death beds." Almira sat on the edge of the grave.
"It's not disrespectful if we all ended up here in the end." Abbie said.
"True." Laying back as to let her feet hang down from the open grave. "You know, seeing dead bodies ain't new. And I'm not talking about the dead Magical Girls and Witches I did end up killing." Almira sees a rat in the skies. "It reminds me of when I was Reborn as a Witch."
"It's not that I'm worried about. I'm afraid." Abbie said. "I'm afraid that I would become like my mother. When Marge came into my life..."
§
Marge walks up to Abbie, a few years older, and is looking down to see her dead to be among the dead, sharing a grave with multiple bodies.
"My, why such a little bird burying all these bodies?" Marge said in an English accent. "What's wrong, little bird?"
Abbie slowly turned towards Marge. Looking down to see a handle with gems, she didn't know it was a Wand. "Why are you carrying that?" In a Boston accent.
"Oh?!" Marge pulled the Wand out. "Want one?" She offers.
"Want one?" Abbie repeats and confused about the wording. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean, want to live a better life?" Marge pets the dirty mud covered hair of Abbie's.
"A better... life?" She looked down to see her dirty feet. "What do you mean by that?"
"How about becoming a Witch?" Marge offers.
Her eyes widen as she seems to fall into the Grave only to be put into a Cauldron where she had slept for nearly 90 years, around a couple months before Dorothy's wake up.
Waking up to the modern world. Abbie sees Marge, wearing nice looking clothes. "Good morning!" She spoke to her. "Lucky I survived."
Abbie looked around, "Where am I?" She realised. "My shovel! My lantern!" She looked around to find her stuff, Marge present them.
§
"I became a Witch because I want a Wand like hers. When I woke up, I'm only here to have a better life, but I wish my papa would be here with me to see it." Abbie slightly broke into her Boston accent.
"And what happen to your mom?" Almira asked.
Speaking in German. "Back at Germany, she made sure that papa and I were running away from someone. I don't remember who it was, but looking back..."
Abbie memories of seeing her mother being dragged away in an alleyway while both she and her father managed to sneak their way into the boat on the last second.
"I think it was a Witch, but couldn't tell who it was." Abbie looking up. "But since that day, I had been through hell and seeing the depression and death. I ended up sleeping with dead bodies for warmth at times. Ever met a Witch who had to do that?"
"Sleeping with dead bodies? That reminds me of when I first became a Witch." Almira said.
"Okay? How did you become a Witch?" Abbie picks up a Rat then pets it while asking Almira.
"I was raised during the Black Death." Almira answered. "I haven't told Dorothy about this, but we're both Reborn from Depression Eras. I hate rats since they ran around Kiev at the times."
Abbie looked at her rat then tossed it out and away from Almira.
"I had seen what rats could bring, and I never let them bring them back into my life. My parents were nothing more than nameless people to a body count." Almira said to Abbie.
"How did you adjust to life as a Witch?" Abbie asked.
"I didn't." Almira answered.
"Being from Ukraine, I never imagined I had seen my home survive as long as I did. Where I saw everything, I thought I saw the apocalypse and had accepted judgement day. If I had time powers or magic, I could go back with the cure. But I carried the amount of dead people on my back, knowing that I'm the only one that survived from my town, I know I can never go back." Almira sees memories of her folks being in bed due to the Plague.
"The Witch that made me, was one of them that caused it. Why? Because us Witches are meant to cause nothing but trouble. I've seen so many so-called Good Witches like Dorothy, I only can guide her into a better world. Us Witches can only go forward. Not back. The only way you can move on from being a Witch from Depression, is to keep walking. That's why we walk forward, never back." Almira nearly broke back into her Ukraine accent as she remembered her past as a Plague survivor.
"Good Witches?" Abbie is confused. "But I've never been a good person. I had played with dead bodies and beat up dead bodies of bullies who used to bully me just because I was German. Would've been worst if I did lived through the times when World War 2 came. And when I was reborn into this world, the first thing that came to mind was to kill the ones who lived a better life than me. I want to use this shovel to kill them, after I made it into my Wand." Abbie got out to sit next to Almira but was shocked to see her arm with plague symptoms. "Did you cure yourself from it?"
"No. I kept it inside of me after I injected myself with it. Because one of these days, I wanted to go out like my folks did. Another number." Almira looked down into the grave as she sat up. Her arm healed up. "Have you become a Salem Witch? Since you wanted to kill the bullies?"
Abbie looked down into it. "No." Memories of seeing the sick elderly woman in the hospital bed. "When I saw the old bully, she was crying and thought I was an Angel, welcoming her into Heaven. I didn't know how to take it, but she cried out and confessed her sins. Even asking me for forgiveness. I didn't answer. I want to have a sword handle because I want to become someone important. The dead made into an important person, but this shovel is a memory of papa that I had carried for nearly 90 years. I honestly don't know what to do till..." Abbie pulls out the booklet that showed a lantern. "I saw this. I remembered what that woman said to me."
Almira grabs it. She softly smiled. "I remember what Wand I wanted but it didn't happen." She flick her Wand to bring a broom. "This broom here was my mother's before she died. I carried it for over 700 years from 1350. But it didn't happen till I made this." Present her the Wand. "A Wand is the shape of the person's soul." She stood up. "Let's go back. Making Wands is trial and error." Pull Abbie up.
"Then perhaps..." Abbie thinks to herself.
§
"So what's the story of your Wand, Mrs. Webster?" Dorothy asked as she nearly exploded one of her Wands.
"Well the handle was given as a gift from Queen Victoria herself." Marge pulls it out then swings it out to reveal a sword. "I was part of her Majesty Court. Before the Magical Girls came. Us Witches back then were like actual Magical Girls. So before they came around, I was actually a Dame."
"A Dame?" Dorothy asked as she points to grab Marge's Wand, but felt heavy due to the blade. "This is so heavy!"
"It's a sword, love. It's meant to be heavy." Marge said as she helped Dorothy with the sword. "As for the Dame, it's when a women had been Knighted." Placed the Wand on the table while the sword disappeared. "But now, Magical Girls have been Dammed by Her Majesty themselves while I see how far us Dames have fallen."
"You must have had a rough experience with Magical Girls?" Dorothy continues on wood carving with her Wand.
"I killed a few. I had killed all the Magical Girls who had been Dammed. A Dame seeing another Dame only to do the title dirty, I had to do something. I don't mind Beth, but Victoria has been a best friend to me." Marge said as she showed her a photo of herself with Victoria in her cell phone.
She sees the photo but is more confused about the picture. "How did you get a picture of Queen Victoria and yourself in this? Because I know photography is by far the most advanced technology in my time period."
"A simple Memory Spell." Marge placed her Wand next to her head then pulled a small orb. Putting it into her phone then showed a memory of them into the gallery.
"Wow!" Dorothy is excited to see this. "So I can put all of my memories into these?"
"That's right." Marge smiled to see Dorothy excited. "Mira taught me this spell."
"I should have asked her to get one of these tiny blocks." Dorothy passed the cell phone back to Marge.
"Cell phones." Correct her. "Humans can advance without us Witches and Magical Girls, but we can make life far beyond interesting." Smiled.
"Are there any Spells you taught Abbie?" Dorothy asked as she tried to snap the Wand into her hand, but nothing.
"Like Memory spells, I gave her a muscle memory spell." Marge fencing with her bladeless Wand. "She has my sword handling knowledge, but she needs some little muscle here and there. She came from Boston '35."
"Sounds lovely, and loud." Dorothy thinks to herself.
"Loud, yes. But not lovely." Marge said to her. "She was a sickly little bird by the time I met her. Made her into a Witch, hoping for a better life but I was away since I would have brought her back into the 70's or 2004 at least. But encountered a few Magical Girls, early versions, so I had been on the run from then till recently. And by 2004, they start imported into America, so making it back to her became impossible without looking like a grave robber."
"Are they tough? I only fought against one from my hometown of Oztown, but she was a rookie, like me being a rookie Witch." Dorothy asked as she posed with her Wands.
"Vigilantes? Hardly a challenge, easy to kill. But actual Magical Girls? They're quite challenging. Familiar Jinxes can keep them busy, but they're not used to fighting against enemies with actual Intelligence. You should have seen them fighting the so-called Witches back in Japan but just grotesque and Magical Girls gone rough. Mindless monsters. But when they fought an actual Witch, they didn't know how to deal with us." Marge smiled as her blade came back but covered in dried up blood that's nearly covered till the Wand's handle.
"Some of them were begging to be spared, but what I learned during my time in Her Majesty's court is that if you sign up to be a defender, you must be prepared to spill blood. I had defended Alex from other Witches before, so I'm used to being covered in blood. Even if it makes me a Salem Witch."
"First Mrs. Green. Ms. Johnston. Now you, it seems that Salem Witches are becoming more common." Dorothy questioned the nature of such. "Speaking of which, I feel like Witches are being my enemies than the Magical Girls."
"Because it is." Marge said. "It doesn't matter if you kill an innocent, a Magical Girl, or another Witch. But once you spill blood, wash it away or drink it, it makes you a Salem Witch. Each time I bathe the blood of another Witch, I gain a new spell from their memories." Marge showed off some of her spells with hellfire or paradise light, even showing her outfit change by looking like an actual Evil Witch with a crown. Dorothy looked surprised by her look. "I fought many kinds, and killed all who threatened." She changed from an Evil Witch to her English Noblewoman look with a cape with a holy light behind her. "But I'll continue on being Her Majesty's most loyal Witch."
"Wow!" Dorothy is stunned by her beauty.
"But..." Marge changed back into her wood crafting look. "I want to help Abbie out. Unlike my previous Apprentices, and the Plague Witch that made me, I won't fall too deep into the abyss of tyranny. To me, Magical Girls is a global empire that made things worst for us Witches."
"A Plague Witch?" Dorothy is confused of the term. "This is a new one for me, but what are they? Mrs. Green was gonna tell me about them."
"One of them caused the Black Death in Europe. They fly around the world only to cause deaths. Even their Familiars can rival us Salem Witches. Since we don't have any royalty or higher ups, so the Plague Witches serves as the highest or lowest to a certain view like mine, of the Witch's hierarchy. There are us Salem Witches, then the lowest are something that Almira created, the Wicked Witches." Marge showed her the magic screen of the Witch's Hierarchy. "Almira was the first Wicked Witch since back then, it was ruled by Plague or Salem Witches, but they didn't have any special titles back then as it is now till Salem Witch Hunt. And us Witches gave the Plague Witches the title after Almira explained it to us."
Dorothy sees herself as a Wicked Witch with Abbie. Seeing both Almira and Marge as Salem Witches.
"Fun fact; we got funny Wanted Posters." Marge showed her.
The previous old hag look of Almira, while Marge is showing off the British Punk-Rock style of look while giving the English bird.
Dorothy laughed. "Do the British really dress up like that?"
"To a certain point." Marge smiled. "But I would rather keep my nobility look." Both of them start laughing together. "This was just to mess around with them."
"We're back!" Almira walked back with Abbie.
Marge walked up to Abbie to give her a hug. "Ready to work on your Wand?"
"Of course." Abbie happily answered.
From the distance, Olivia angrily stares at them.