Priscilla smashed the vial in her hand releasing the fog inside, creating a pocket roughly two meters in diameter. Blood gushed from her chest, her lungs shaking uncontrollably as she gasped for air. Crimson syrup corrupted all it touched, staining her dirtied porcelain skin. 'Fu-ck.' Priscilla's throat couldn't even let out a scream, the black cat rubbed its head against her thigh, meowing in concern for the poor girl.
Seconds passed, then minutes…finally Priscilla's chest healed enough for her breathing to stabilise, but worries continued to plague her mind. Just how long would the vial protect her? Who the hell was that? A fury, unlike anything she had felt before bubbled in her chest as she watched the brown cat squirm free from the binds.
'You can't hide in there forever little witch. I will be waiting…' His voice faded, the sound of birds and wolves taking over the tranquil night. Priscilla knew he was right, but was not certain for how long this pocket would last. In her pocket, she could still feel a small vial she had nicked from the bookshelf while Lucia was brewing in the large pot.
The cork came off with a pop, the purple liquid inside bubbling and foaming like an alcoholic drink, her nose scrunched from the intoxicating aroma. She pinched her nose closed and necked the liquid. Like molten magma, it charred every inch of her throat as it descended into her empty stomach. 'AGHH-' Her wound began bleeding profusely, blood particles floating forward slowly.
Like a supernova, light completely drowned out the darkness, leaving behind a lengthy clearing of zero fog. A pair of burgundy blades remained stagnant in the air, her hands brushed against the handles that attached themselves to her hands. Her eyes inspected the two pieces, they were clearly the two blades of a scissor, a tool she was very familiar with.
She patted her chest, and miraculously the bleeding ceased leaving behind a star-shaped scar that resembled the bright light. A distant voice whispered to her, but the words were undecipherable gibberish that sounded similar to Arabic.
The two pieces clicked together, echoing through the forest followed by an eerie laughter that crept ever so closely. Only five hundred metres remained until she could flee to freedom, but something nagged her in the back of her mind.
Priscilla's legs pedalled against the floor, launching herself forward with ease, a newfound strength boosting her recovery and mobility to a superhuman degree. She couldn't stop the oncoming smile, it carved itself into the rosy cheeks of the young witch, but happiness gives birth to confidence, and confidence…
…only ever leads to foolishness.
'I am not afraid of you Vaundr, show your face and duel me like a man!' A second of silence followed by echoing claps from deep in the forest, a dark figure much larger than the previous Vaundr, he was rather excited at this turn of events.
'Gotta say, you are the first witch I have met that is willing to face an immortal Vaundr head-on! I love the spunk kid.'
'I have a question of my own. I defeated the Vaundr, how come you are standing face to face with me right now?'
His smile faded, and a look of confusion flashed across his eyes but he quickly waved it away.
Unlike the other Vaundr, this one seemed capable of rational speech, not, just mindless fighting. 'In history witches have reigned over those that could not access these dark arts. And so fear was born in the hearts of man, they needed someone to quell their anxieties. That is where we as witch hunters stepped up. Of course, it was with the help of the witches that we could accomplish what we did.'
He crept closer, ever so slowly. 'It was your own kind that gave us this ability, to haunt the foggy lands and continue reaping witches who wander through our domain. I forget her name, it's on the tip of my tongue…something starting with ''L'' maybe.' Empty eyes stared into empty eyes, the Vaundr dared not cast his chant just yet.
Priscilla clicked her scissors, attempting to stop his slow approach. Though he showed no intention of attacking, something kept bugging her, a little voice in the back of her mind telling her to beware, to flee if at all possible.
'Ho there little girl, no need to get feisty.' He spoke slowly, sitting down on the muddy ground. 'Are you really a witch? Sure, you smell like one, but I bet you haven't even joined a coven. I pity you.' He seemed genuine with his words, something she had not expected.
'Does that mean you will leave me be? Allow me to live and find my way out of this fog?' Priscilla nearly dropped her guard down, hoping that he would be kind enough to back off.
'Ke ke ke.'
He chuckled to himself nearly falling onto his back, with a swift motion he threw the scythes into a nearby tree nearly splitting it in half.
'I will personally guarantee that I will give you a pass…'
Three figures dashed behind the laid-back Vaundr. Two men and one woman, her instincts were blaring at her to run. Screw trying to reason with them, survival was the number one goal.
'They, however, will be claiming your head as a prize.'
'What the-?' Priscilla vanished from where she had stood, her figure reappeared about thirty meters in the direction of the light. Regardless of how fast she could move, the Vaundrs kept up, seemingly reading her mind on the moves and turns she would take. A tall tree loomed far in front, going around it would slow her down too much, and she had only one option. Her arms swiped at the tree, slicing it into thousands of little pieces in the blink of an eye.
Branches and roots seemed to bend and bow at every foothold she attempted to step through, but that wasn't enough to slow her down, not now, not when the beautiful light was in sight. An arrow whistled by her head barely grazing her cheeks, drawing blood once more.
Only 200 meters more, but it still didn't sit right with her, it wouldn't be over so easily. And she was right. 'Heya there!' The neutral Vaundr peeked from behind a tree, an easy dodge, but not without trying to inflict a wound onto him. Crimson clashed crimson as the blade ripped through his flesh, a large chunk of his shoulder plopping onto the ground.
Priscilla's eyes grew wide as she flashed her gaze between the scissors and the Vaundr. The immortal Vaundr was no longer invincible, her eye turning to the quickly approaching gang of hunters.
A fiery smirk flared across her face, she spun the scissors across her fingers, enlarging to almost half her size. 'Time to play little Vaundrs.'
In the blink of an eye, she disappeared, an afterimage appearing in between the trio, but at that point, it was too late to react. A soft thud filled the empty forest, she didn't scream as her arm fell to the ground. The crossbow attached to her wrist slowly started dematerialising along with her body, black tears staining her pearly skin.
Shock filled the two Vaundr's eyes as they watched their companion's body turn to dust before their very eyes. They shook as they watched Priscilla land delicately across the battlefield, creating distance between them. Was it anger? No. It was something much more primal, a carnal fear that was bound to their flesh.
'Snip Snip' The scissors clicked against each other, Priscilla standing her ground while keeping an eye on the injured Vaundr from behind her. Despite how the situation looked she was still at a disadvantage, outgunned and and numbered. The first strike was luck, but she understood luck would not chime twice in her favour.
'Retreat for tonight, we can have a rematch once your friend is healed.'
Priscilla motioned at the Vaundr who lay still against a tall tree. 'Consider this a warning. If you lay a hand on another witch, if even a single hair is missing on any witch. I will invade your sacred fog and slaughter you like animals.'
A chill ran down the shorter Vaundr's spine, his hand itched to pull out the holy hand grenade stashed in his cloak and at least take out the witch. Even if it meant losing an artefact, however, the taller Vaundr motioned to stay put.
'We will retreat for tonight, however, count your days…'
'. ..you don't have many left. '
The fog vanished exposing the quickly approaching guard who had overheard a commotion. Her vision grew blurry, his warm embrace being the last thing she could feel before a much colder embrace ripped her from the world of the awake.
======================≧◠ᴥ◠≦========================
'Shit!' Priscilla jumped from her hospital bed, her eyes scanned the room, and they were met with the worried looks of both her parents. They wasted no time jumping for a hug, pressing down on every single injury at once, she hid the pain behind a timid smile.
'We were so worried about you! Why would you go out at night back there? That is so dangerous, you are lucky a nice lady found you and called an ambulance!'
'Nice lady? Wait, how long have I been here?'
Her parents held up seven fingers.
'Seven hours?! I have to get to school!' She tried sitting up but her father pressed her against the pillow.
'Seven days Priscilla. You sustained some heavy injuries, the doctors think you were attacked by a pack of wolves. It's a miracle you are even alive.'
She shook her head, was it just a dream? A nightmare more like, but it felt so real to her. Meeting Lucia and the kitten, the Vaundr and all of the injuries…even the scissors.
Priscilla stuck her hand out, trying to summon that red scissor from before, that would prove everything that happened wasn't a dream. Her blood boiled, the monitor beeping uncontrollably as she tried conjuring those fated blades. Almost there-
'Sorry to interrupt but she needs to have her check up.' A disembodied voice rang from across the room, hidden only by the corner created by the small bathroom cubicle. High heels clicked against the tiled floor, her auburn hair flowing in the air as she sat beside Priscilla in the armchair. Feeling a little flustered she covered herself up, only the cheap hospital gown was covering her and aside from her mother and father, nobody else had seen her this exposed.
'We understand, I have to get back to work now anyway. Call me if anything happens, you have my number sweetie.' She poked out her thumb and pinkie shaking her hand close to her ear.
Several seconds passed with Lucia sticking her head through the hard wooden door, making sure that Priscilla's parents had left earshot before mentioning any witchy business.
'Balsy brat, we have to talk…'