Diary of the Dead: Chapter I - Hollow Daydreams

[Witchblade]

The sun was just beginning to break over the horizon. The darkness that had enveloped the land for so many hours was now being chased away and replaced, by the bright and fiery orange that marked day’s entrance. Soon the sky would change from the navy blue it had turned into and become the vibrant and clear blue that humans loved so much. But for now, things remained quiet in the Gol’bron town. Her sensitive ears could pick up the sounds of the many creatures that had slept through the night slowly awakening to a brand new day. The chirping of birds would soon ring out and the gentle and soft steps of rabbits and deer alike would litter the forest floor. Even the wind was beginning a soft dance through the leaves and branches. The humans in the camp though would remain quiet for a few hours longer, especially those still sleeping off the effects of alcohol strewn before her.

Their bodies were rather haphazardly lying across the hard ground in a way that only a drunk man would do, as he was without care for the aches and pains he would receive in the morning. Though she had a feeling it was their heads and their stomachs that would be feeling the brunt of the aftermath. Even Daegun was using Trey’s chest as a comfortable bed to curl upon. Witch had never been drunk before but she had seen the effects on more than one human and they were rather rough the next day. Why they would willingly put something into their bodies that would only dull their senses that night and the next day was beyond her. Sure, they’d all looked to be having a grand time, but half the things they’d said made little to no sense in her mind, not to mention their words had been rather slurred and they’d practically been falling over themselves. Thankfully, none of them had questioned her when she’d politely declined the ale, perhaps for obvious reasons. Her mouth was of course sown shut. Drinking any kind of liquid was a task she’d rather not attempt, not to mention her body rebelled when things like food and water were introduced to it, making her feel extremely ill. More often than not, she threw it up.

Despite all those facts, the night had been fun. She couldn’t remember the last time she had talked so freely with anyone, let alone a group of humans, and some of the stories she had, had greatly amused them all. They’d especially loved the ones about regions of Althanas they’d never been to before, but wisely she had kept a lot of her memories to herself. After all, destroying entire villages just for fun usually didn’t go over too well when sharing tales around the bonfire.
When the sun broke the tree line, Witch watched as Jacob stirred slightly. The first signs of it were the increased beat of his heart, it sounded like a distant drum thumping through her ears. Slowly, he opened his eyes only to hiss and roll over, burying his head into his arm.

She smirked, “Good morning.”

He groaned, “There’s nothing good about it...”

His voice sounded very hoarse, either from his throat being too dry or from laughing and talking so much last night. She didn’t know. Reaching beside her, the Halfling grabbed a skin of water and tossed it towards the human, hitting him in the side of the head with it. He barely moved or even acknowledged it.

“I suppose that depends on your perspective.”

“Stop yelling at me...”

She wasn’t, in fact his ears weren’t even hearing her words, it was his mind that perceived them. Watching him grab the water skin with sluggish and uncoordinated movements, the halfling turned her eyes towards Trey as she heard him moving around too. He seemed just as rough as Jacob. As he began to stir, his movements jerked Daegun awake, who stretched and yawned rather lazily atop the human. His white, curled up body looking like a giant rock with spikes and a head. Kind of cute really. Trey didn’t seem to think so.
The moment he opened his eyes and saw the sleepy face of her baby dragon, he did what came naturally to most humans. He quickly threw him up into a sitting position, throwing Daegun off him and scrambled back.

“Dra-Dra-Dragon!!!!”

His loud cry woke up Adrian and the others from their slumber, who’s immediately instincts were to reach for weapons. Weapons she wouldn’t doubt would do them more harm at this point in time than good. He merely broke into a loud bout of laughter as Daegun shook his addled head and looked at the human slightly perplexed.

[Witchblade]

Witchblade stood within the soft and cold shadows inside of Sorahn’s tent. Nothing had changed since the last time she had been within it. Her arms were folded under her chest as she leaned heavily on one leg and waited for Sorahn to even acknowledge her presence. He had remained quiet the entire time she’d been here, leaning over the map and observing every area of it with his large, clear blue eyes as if it held the mysteries of the world. If he leaned any closer to it, his damn muzzle might actually brush against the parchment. He hadn’t even said a single word to her when she’d stepped inside, all he had done was raised his head and give a soft grunt to mark the fact that she was there. Shortly after she’d arrived, Trey, Aidan and all the others she had met last night had entered as well. Their faces had registered a pleasurable surprise at having seen her there, one she had returned merely with a quick nod. She was not here for pleasantries.

Sorahn drew in a deep breath as he finally stood straight and looked over at Witchblade. “Yesterday you went through the South West section of Concordia nearest the camp, today I would like you to focus on the North West section.”

The Halfling nodded her head as she started to picture exactly what she knew was in that area just from her random wanderings around Concordia. If she wasn’t mistaken it would bring her closer to the mountains and the trees would thinner, but there were quite a few ruins in the area from previous civilizations that had once ruled over this land.

“Understood.”

It seemed like a relatively easy scouting mission for her to accomplish, as long as she didn’t have another one of those episodes. She had nearly forgotten about it until this moment, her time spent with the humans having freed her mind of the worries floating through it. But this morning was so reminiscent of yesterday she couldn’t help but bring it back into the forefront of thought. Except yesterday a group of humans weren’t standing behind her as if waiting to receive their orders as well. If it happened again she didn’t know what she would do or what she really could do. The whole thing was just so odd to her; she didn’t know what to make of it.

She hadn’t been dismissed yet and so when Sorahn’s eyes travelled from her to one of the human’s behind her, she didn’t leave.

“Adrian, I want you and your men to accompany Witchblade.”

At first she thought she had heard him wrong. He would not have just sent a group of humans out on a scouting mission with her as if she couldn’t be trusted, as if her skills were not enough. But he had.

“Understood.”

No, it was not understood, it was not even wanted.

“No.” She sent the simple word into Sorahn’s mind right when he opened his large muzzle to address them once more. Her tone was resolute. She would not let him send a bunch of humans with her, tailing her every move. She was not a babysitter.

“Excuse me?”

“I will not baby sit a bunch of humans for you, Sorahn. I work alone, you know that.”

He folded his arms over his chest as he watched her, not at all put off by her words. “You will do as I tell you, Witchblade. These men need to know the lay of the land, they need to be as familiar with Concordia as you are and you are going to take them with you.”

She could feel her anger and frustration building up within her. It didn’t matter that she had spent so much time with them last night, that was then and this was now and this was business. Not to mention if she had another episode while they were around she would not be able to keep it a secret from Sorahn or anyone else.

“And if I refuse?”

His eyes narrowed on her, pinning her in place with a cold glare that she returned in kind. Red met blue and neither seemed willing to shift or move on their position.

“Do not play this game with me.” He voice was losing that soft edge and becoming something a little deeper, as if her actions were frustrating and angering him as much as his was to her. “As part of this clan, you’re going to have to get used to working with others.”

Growling, the Halfling practically barred her teeth at Sorahn. “Fine, but the guilt will be upon your shoulders should anything happen to them.”

Then she turned and left the tent.

[Witchblade]

“Witchblade!�

By now she could recognize the voice of Trey easily enough, not to mention he sounded like a stampeding Minotaur the way he was running after her. Why he didn’t just stay in the tent with all the others she didn’t know. He should have. She didn’t want to talk to him right now, or any of them. He was probably pissed off at her for not wanting to complete such an easy mission with him and his little human friends anyway. But it was a lot more complicated than just wanting to work by herself this time.

“Yo, Witch!�

Sighing as he finally caught up to her, she turned around and faced him. His face was a little red from the rush of blood pumping through his veins and he was panting just slightly.

“What’s wrong?�

She was so put off by his question that instead of her usual sarcastic comment she stared at him, “What?�

“You seemed kind of upset back there, is there something wrong?�

She seemed kind of upset? What, did he think that just because she spent the night with him and his friends that they were all buddy, buddy now and she was just going to throw all her sorrows and her worries his way for him to listen to like he really cared? Did he really expect that?

“I’m fine.�

The growled tone made him pause for a moment, his eyes widening a bit as if it took him by surprise. Pathetic. That’s what she normally would have thought; instead she had a sudden urge to apologize for snapping at him when it wasn’t his fault. This she quickly squashed down as if it had never existed. He wasn’t her friend, he was just another soldier in The Gol’bron, another life that was used to further the needs of people like Sorahn and her. Perhaps he meant something to their leader, or maybe not. But it would be a cold day in Hell before she started considering him as anything more than a pawn in this game. He was after all just human and there were plenty more to replace him.

“Ahh... all right. I just...�

His uncertainty annoyed her.

“If you have something to say, then fucking say it, Trey.�

His face turned hard right away, “No, nothing... we’ll meet up with you near the western outskirts.� Then he turned and left.

She watched his retreating back for a few seconds. She couldn’t completely ignore the feeling of guilt running through her and she didn’t even know where it was coming from. So she’d yelled at him, so what. He should be able to suck it up and get over it. Balling her hands into fists, the Halfling turned and began heading towards the western front of the town. She just wanted this over and done with as quickly as possible.

---------------------------------

She didn’t have to wait long for them. They probably came right from finishing their discussion with Sorahn. Part of her wanted to know what had occurred during it and whether or not they were following her merely to watch her every move, or if there was another reason beyond that. Despite the fact that Sorahn was her leader, she didn’t exactly trust him or his motives. Even though he told her there person, she didn’t truly believe him. She knew Sorahn didn’t completely trust her either, no one did. She was a killer after all and it didn’t matter who she sided with, her nature would never change or vary from that. The little leader of this rag tag group of warriors and enterprising people might not have realized that yet, but he had to have his suspicions. Not to mention he was probably growing bored of her constant objections to his orders.

“How long do you think this excursion will take?� Adrian asked as he adjusted the traps of his rucksack.

They’d all come prepared with the brown, leather bags hanging off their backs. What they came prepared for she wasn’t sure.

“How often do you stop for rests?� She didn’t mean for it to sound as sarcastic as it came out, but in the end she didn’t really care. Having the humans with her meant that she was going to have to stop periodically so they could rest and eat, something she never had to do when she was by herself.

“Only when we need to.� He responded.

“Good, then we should be back shortly before nightfall, though there’s a chance we’ll be making camp out there and heading back in tomorrow.� She folded her arms under her chest as she talked, her eyes straying from his bright blue ones and to the forest surrounding the town.

“That’s no problem. We thought this would take more than one day so we packed supplies.�

Nodding her head, the Halfling turned and began leading the way into the woods. She’d start by going directly west of here and then branch off towards the North after a little while.

[Witchblade]

Perhaps all the humans thought it looked the same. That every tree was like the last one and that every leaf which fell to the forest floor bore the same markings and the same pattern. But nothing in nature was a twin to another. Everything grew differently, marked by the passages of time and the way that the wind blew against it. Just like the animals that populated the world of Althanas, whose evolution forced them to change to fit their climate and their surroundings, the trees changed. Scared, broken and torn by the lives they had lived, even if the humans thought them lifeless. Oh the things the trees could tell us if only one would stop for a moment and listen.

But no one did.

They moved through the underbrush with a purpose. Her steps carefully taking her passed fallen and rotting branches as they littered the forest floor, through the thicket of leaves and greenery advancing along the rich soil and scrambling desperately for some speckle of light. One that would fall upon them and give them the life they so desperately craved. The large group of them trudged through the woods as quietly as any human would, which meant anything within the next two miles could hear them coming.

The humans broke branches, smashed the soles of their boots upon dried leaves and had the unfortunate habit of never keeping their mouths closed for more than twenty minutes. She ignored it, she tuned it out and she pushed it to the back of her mind so that she could focus on the task at hand. At keeping them on track and going in the right direction, which wasn’t as easy as they thought. After all, the thick canopy above them kept them from seeing much of anything but the occasional burst of blue or blinding white as the sun broke through.

“This is rather boring...�

The voice of Jacob broke through the brief moment of relative silence, if relative silence meant the air was filled with a constant crunching, panting and the steady beat of multiple hearts.

She could hear the sudden intake of breath from one of them, followed by its expulsion as words rent the air once more. “This wasn’t meant to be a pleasure hike, Jacob. We’re not here to have fun and go off on some kind of adventure. It’s going to be boring, just keep your eyes open.�

“Keep my eyes open? Open for what, there’s nothing here but trees, rocks and dirt. And all of them look like the ones we passed merely five minutes ago, Witchy, are you sure we’re not going around in circles here?�

Oh, she was sure, just as sure as she was that he paid his surroundings little to no mind. Typical. He blindly followed the leader hoping that whoever it was would get him there safely.

“Are you sure there’s nothing here but rocks, trees and dirt?� She didn’t give him the chance to answer her back before she continued. “How about the river we’re coming up to? Or the herd of deer paces ahead of us that your loud voice will scare off before you get a good look at them? I could go on about the ruins about fifty feet to our right and the monsters that have infested it, but I don’t really see the point.�

She had stopped walking halfway through it and instead turned around to face the humans following her trail. By the end of her little speech, Adrian was looking rather smugly in her direction and Jacob nearly had his jaw dropping. That quickly changed to something of a slight pout as he looked away from her and defiantly folded her arms across his chest.

“Just because it isn’t in your immediate view doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. If you stop, listen and look you’ll notice many things about Concordia that you hadn’t at first. And every tree won’t look exactly like the last one either.� The last part came off on the playful side, just enough so that her words would not mock Jacob and make him feel even more uncomfortable. Considering how this little mission had started off, Witch wanted to try and rectify things a little better and hopefully not make them worse. They were out here and they were stuck together and no amount of brooding was going to change that.

He sighed, “Alright...�

She knew he understood what she was saying, he was just reluctant to agree to it. Whether it was his pride or something else, she didn’t know.

“If you become familiar with the way the forest is, then you’ll be able to figure out when there’s something wrong or different rather easily.�

It appeared that even though she only meant to talk to Jacob about this, the others listened as well. Their eyes were sweeping from her and to their surroundings as if noticing things about it for the first time. Perhaps she’d be able to make some trackers out of them yet, or at least more observant humans. Allowing a smirk to tug at the corners of her lips, the Halfling turned and began heading deeper into the woods once more. They still had a lot of walking ahead of them and soon the humans would have to stop and rest for a time.

[Witchblade]

The sound of rushing water filled her ears. It enveloped everything else and made the wind whistling through the trees nothing more than a whisper and the steady beats of the human’s hearts just a drum that told a tale of life. Even their voices and chatter was diminished around the rushing and raging water as it pushed through jutting and jagged rocks piercing that pierced it as if it were flesh and made it bleed and part for it, though the water forever changed it. White foamed and rolled off the top of the crashing water as it smashed against the rocks, against the banks of the river and everything that stood in its way. Where it was rushing too so quickly, she couldn’t say and didn’t really know if it mattered. She just enjoyed the sound of it, pulsing through her sensitive ears and the sight of it as it reflected the mid day sun and its bright light. If it had been a still stream or pond, she could have seen the reflections of the sparse clouds above her and the endless blue, but with its power, it reflected nothing.

They were making a brief stop at a river, one that Witchblade did not know the name of. Unlike the humans, she did not see the need to give every single thing born within nature a name to humanize it. It was just a river; it supplied life to everything around it and took it away when it flooded. There was no point to call it anything other than that. If they wanted to give it a name could, but she wouldn’t remember it.

So far, they had come across nothing of interest in her mind. Old piles of rubble once thought to be temples and cities were about as interesting as it got and she was sure Jacob was becoming sorely disappointed. Perhaps all her stories last night of grand adventures had made the young human think he was going on one with her today. Perhaps he wanted to sneak into those ruins and find a secret passageway that no one had found before, that no one had walked through in over a hundred years, perhaps even a thousand. Well, she had. In her life, she had done that many times and knew that though it was a grand adventure, it was usually more trouble than it was worth. Old meant rotting and falling apart and ruins usually meant infested with monsters. People usually only found one thing when we hunted for treasure; their own death. Temples and cities were raided and stripped of anything valuable long before people like her and Jacob came along.

As the others took their time to eat and drink, the Halfling merely rested her body upon one of the larger boulders next to the water. On occasion water would splash up from the bank and land upon one of her legs, her boots or even her arms making her skin beak out in a myriad of bumps. It felt cold enough to be ice. The humans were only a few feet away from her, laughing and carrying on like they usually did over drinks and food. Even Daegun was partaking in it, more than happy to growl and purr for their attention to their breads, dried meats and cheeses. He had appeared from her rucksack merely an hour ago and much to Trey’s embarrassment, immediately run over to the human. The little dragon had apparently made a new best friend, despite being thrown from his chest earlier in the morning. Of course, they’d all got a good laugh out of remembering that little incident only hours ago.

“Hey, Witchblade!”

Her head whipped around from the tumultuous water and in the direction of the voice. It was Jacob’s, though practically everyone was currently looking her way.

“No reason to stay over there by yourself; come join us!”

She allowed a small smile to pull at her lips as she slipped down from the edge of the rock and moved towards the lot of them.

------------------------------

They didn’t rest for long. No less than a half hour, but no longer than an hour. She wanted to keep them moving as much as possible. Though the prospect of staying the night in Concordia did not bother her—the forest was practically the only home she knew—she wanted to get this mission over with. Or at least that’s what she kept telling herself. The truth was she was starting to think less and less about the mission the longer this went on. She found herself focusing on the words of the humans periodically and even throwing herself into their conversations at random. They didn’t seem to mind either. In fact, they appeared to enjoy her company, no matter what she told them. Though really, they were only seeing a side of her she was allowing them to, much of whom she was they would never know, or pray they never would anyway.

As her next step landed upon the forest floor, Witch felt something move through her entire body like a shock. It spread through it like the waves of electricity, winding into muscles and bone and burrowing deep into them, forcing her to catch her breath within her throat and stop her advance. There was no pain that followed, no sensory feeling at all. Just that initial feeling that ran through her system like almost nothing she had ever felt before.

“Hey, is something wrong? Witch? Witchblade!”

“No.”

She shook her head free of the feeling and the sudden unease that was overcoming her. As her senses reached out into the world around her and the humans she felt nothing out of the ordinary. No one else lingered here but them and the animals and there was definitely nothing that should have given her such a feeling. But where had it come from?

Ignoring it, the Halfling took another step forward only to have the forest around her disappear like it had never existed.

In its wake was stone, harsh and cold and unmoving. The grey colours of it were draining to the eyes when they had been surrounded by so much green and brown and vibrancy of life. Torches lines the walls and flickered against the darkness, driving it back and creating shadows within the harsh corners and deep crevices.

She knew this place.

She had been here before.

Confusion, disbelief and panic all warred for a dominant position in the forefront of her mind and none of them were willing to bow to the other. In the end, she fought them all down and turned as quickly as she could, making use of her legs to flee. But when she eyes should have seen more of the empty hallway and the torches they were blinded by the light of the day and found themselves surrounded by trees once more. Wide and fearful looking, they stared back at a group of five humans who looked just as confused as she felt.

“Witch?”

When she reluctantly turned her head once more to face before her, she found nothing but the hallway again. As quickly as she could, she spun her body around to flee and to yell at them to get away from her.

[Witchblade]

The sound echoed across the stone walls and carried further down than her ears could catch it. Painfully loud and shrill in the silence, the voice that had bounced around the word run repeatedly for her own amusement it seemed, but it had no belonged to her. Though she barely heard the sound of her own voice, because she never really talked anymore thanks to her telepathy, she knew what she sounded like. She knew the rise and the fall of each note when spoken and what had come back to her ears had not been the cadence of her voice at all.

She twisted her body around, desperately turning from one circle to the next, each time hoping that when her eyes turned to the area behind her they wouldn’t see the same hallway and the same torches. They would see the trees; hear the rustle of the leaves on the wind and the constant sound of animals nearby. But most of the all they would find the confused and worried, perhaps even laughing faces of the Trey and Jacob and Adrian and the others all standing behind her. Fate mocked her though and hope laughed in her face. No matter how many times she turned her body around, no matter how many times her eyes desperately searched the hallway, nothing changed.

Feeling a strangled cry of anger and frustration build up within the confines of her throat, the Halfling stamped it down and slammed her fist up against the hard stone wall instead. The rough edges of it bit and tore through the flesh of her knuckles, but she didn’t care. Resting her forehead against the cool stone, she took a few minutes to calm the rapid beats of her heart and her uneven and shallow breathing. As she composed herself, she felt a strange tingle run across the back of her hand and across her knuckles. Looking down at the ragged and torn wounds across the skin, the Halfling watched as the skin began to repair itself and mould itself back together until not a single mark remained upon the tanned skin but the faintest traces of bright red blood.

I don’t bleed red, I bleed blue...

It was a strange eccentricity of her body that she had never quite understood or even bothered to figure out. Perhaps it meant something, perhaps it meant nothing. All it did right now was further cement the fact that she was not in her own body. But if that was true, then who’s body did she currently inhabit and where the fuck was she? And what the fuck was her body doing right now?

...this way...

...this way... this way...

...come this way...

...over here...

Witchblade blinked as she heard the voice echo all around her. It was as if her ears did not hear it so much as her mind perceived it, like it was coming from within her. Was this what it sounded like when she talked telepathically to someone? Did that mean that someone was telepathically speaking to her...or perhaps it was the person whose body she currently inhabited.

...please...

...come this way...

...come over here...

She didn’t know if she wanted to follow it or even bother listening to it. She didn’t want to be here at all. Whatever was going on she wanted no part of, whoever had attached themselves to her could fuck off. She just wanted to go back to her own body, her own life and forget this entire incident had ever happened. Apparently she didn’t have much a choice when it came to following these instructions or not. Against her will, the body began to move. Stoically and as if it were trapped in some kind of thick liquid, it moved and turned her around for the last time, making her face a hallway that seemed no different than the one behind her. Then it began to lead her down, forcing each leg to take one step forward despite Witch’s strict instructions for it not to move. Of course, the legs did not appear content to listen to her though. She couldn’t entirely blame them, after all this wasn’t even her body.

Knowing it was utterly futile and pointless to fight against its command, the Halfling stopped struggling against it and headed in the direction it wanted her to. Whether or not this was the same building she had been in last time was unsure, but it sure felt the same. The stones looked the same, even the torches looked the same, and the only real difference was the lack of people moving through the hallway.

It appeared that she was only one moving about.

It didn’t take her long to eventually come to a door that seemed more important than any of the other dark, wooden doors they had passed on their way to get here. Taking a deep breath, Witch reached out and wrapped her fingers around the cold, brass handle and turned the knob. Pushing the door open with a groan, she stepped into the room to find herself in a brightly lit but plain bedroom. There was a small but comfortable looking bed pressed into the corner of the room, a table beside it with a glowing lamp and a dresser next to that and a tall standing mirror. Beside that was a large, stone fireplace that had no flame flickering within, only the ashes of one that had been there many hours before. No trinkets littered the table; no clothes were strewn across the floor. It was militaristic and cold, as if no one actually lived within this room.

Moving across the cold stone floor, the Halfling found herself coming to a stop before the tall standing mirror. Her eyes went wide as she perceived the reflection that looked back at her with its own air of disbelief.

[Witchblade]

Something within her mind clicked.

She didn’t know what and she didn’t completely understand it or even try to begin comprehending it. But something deep within the darkest recesses of her mind, where she pushed things that she didn’t want to deal with, where she hid things that no one else should ever know just fell into place. It was like a piece of a puzzle she had been missing for so long but hadn’t even realized it. And now that it was finally in the correct place there was just something right about it she would never be able to describe to any other living creature.

There was no great revelation that sprang from this. No flood of memories or emotions that came crashing through the muddled and fogged depths of her shattered and fragmented past. It was just a simple feeling and a thought. One thought.

I know you.

Not a question but instead a statement. The face that stared back at her with the same wide eyed and disbelieving eyes was familiar. The tan of the skin was familiar and the soft and long, raven black hair with its streaks of silver was familiar. The piercing red eyes that looked brighter than any blood she had ever spilt moved around the thin frame wrapped in the soft and warm white dress slowly and deliberately. They took in the strange purple markings along the woman’s strong jaw line and down across her neck where she could see the pulsing and throbbing vein pumping life throughout her body. Her body looked sickly and malnourished, as if it were fading away before her very eyes. The arms that were not hers but rose upon her command were thin and bony and the wrists looked fragile enough to snap with but a simple grasp of her own fingers around it. She could tell there had been muscle here at some point. The remainder of which was desperately clinging to the bone but losing a battle with what must have been a bare rock diet.

Then those arms came to rest upon slight hips that held barely any meat upon them and slowly worked their way up a dangerously narrow waist and side. Every rib stuck out of the skin and she could feel her fingers pass over it in a motion that made her sick to her stomach, if only she had stomach contents to throw up.

The face of the woman may have been beautiful at one point or another, but her eyes were sunken in and lined with deep dark circles that looked like bruises. They made the red colour of the iris stand out far greater than they normally would. Her cheek bones were of great prominence, as were the deep shadows cast along her sunken cheeks. This woman was slowly starving herself to death and for some reason Witchblade actually felt something over that fact. What she felt was irrelevant to her mind and not important, but the fact that she actually cared enough to feel something was.

She took a shaky step towards the full length mirror, her eyes watching as the figure within it grew closer. With amazement, she watched as a body that was not hers obeyed her command and slowly lifted its arm, reaching out towards the mirror. The tips of her fingers, its fingers, hit the glass and sent a shock down her body. It was cold. It felt like she was brushing against ice. Such an odd sensation really, she could not remember the last time she had felt temperature so distinctly or if she ever had.

...y...y-you have to help me...

Then there came that voice again, echoing throughout her mind as if coming from a dozen people all speaking at the same time, all with the same tone and the same pitch.

...please...you have to...

She pulled her hand away from the glass as she stared at the reflection of what was most likely the person asking her for help. Who else would she be hearing crawling through the depths of her mind? The Malice came to mind and for a brief second she thought this entire thing was a trap concocted by it. Some kind of elaborate undertaking that would bring out a series of events and reactions that only it could truly devise. But no, she could not even sense its presence here. Wherever here was, wherever her mind was currently trapped the voice of The Malice could not reach her which meant it had nothing to do with this. It could not influence something when it was not around to do so.

...help...

Clenching her hands into tight fists, Witch watched as the ailing face before her contorted into one of barely controlled rage. In that simple moment, the features reminded her so much of her own that she almost thought it was just an illusion from having stared too long into the mirror.

“Help yourself.”

She meant to speak the words telepathically, she meant to convey the words to whoever this was speaking to her through a link created between their minds. The only problem was in this body she didn’t know how and it appeared they were already linked in a way that Witch could not understand. Her mind was inside of the mind of...whoever this was and she was currently in control of her body as she desperately tried to talk to her. What the purpose of this was seemed completely lost to the halfling but she had a sinking feeling she was going to find out one way or another. Whether she wanted to or not.

...I....I cannot...I...please...

This was pathetic. Witchblade did not care what kind of emotions this frail, wraith of a woman brought forth within her. She was not going to go blindly jumping through hoops for her because she asked her to. She should be strong enough to help herself.

[Witchblade]

“Do not so freely expect others to save you, you have to save yourself.�

The voiced echoed through the mostly bare room, the sound altogether jarring to her ears and grating on her nerves. She hated watching the lips move and the throat work only to hear a sound fill the silence that was unfamiliar to her. Disturbing to say the least, especially considering how much the reflection resembled her own when she scowled and grimaced and looked upon it as if she wanted to rip the very flesh from the bones. Which she did. She did not want to be here participating in whatever sick and twisted, fucked up game this was. She should be back in Concordia, currently leading a pack of humans around by their ears and making sure none of them got killed in the process. Not finding her mind occupying someone else’s body in a land who knows how fucking far from wherever she was in a compound built of stone and filled with unfamiliar races.

...but they keep...so...you must...

The words were disjointed and whatever the woman meant to say to her was not properly coming across to the halfling, which served to only further annoy her.
Witchblade turned to move away from the reflection, having seen and heard enough. She wanted out of this body and back in her own right now before she started doing some serious damage that would make for a long and painful healing process. But something caught her eyes as she turned. The thick strap of this creamy white dress shifted and moved along her thin shoulder and a raised section of skin came into view. Turning back to the mirror, she raised her hand and brushed aside the material as the tips of her fingers ran across healed, but scarred and raised flesh. It looked vicious, but most of all it was a marking that Witch had seen before.

Three circle interlocking with one another, surrounded by another and burned into the very flesh.

A snarl formed itself in the depths of her throat and escaped into the room around her, sounding far less animalistic than the ones that left her mouth. It would have been comical if not for the fact that whatever the fuck this was, was really beginning to piss her off!

“Who the fuck are you?� She growled into the room as her eyes looked around, as if expecting to see the floating spectre of the woman. Instead all she saw was stone and bare furniture.

#####

The muffled and fragmented sound confused her. It was like it had been spoken under water and muffled by the wind to something unintelligible.

“What?�

#######

Again, it was the same sound again! She was trying to tell her, her name and for some God fucking forsaken reason she could not understand her. Feeling her anger and frustrations over this entire situation mount, she slammed her fist against the hard glass of the mirror, more than surprised when it shattered against the blow. Shards glittered and fell to the floor, showering her bare feet and reflecting the gentle glow of light all across the walls. Pain radiated down from her clenched fist as she watched the steady drip of bright, red blood fall to the ground at her feet. There was a deep and clean slice along the back of one of her knuckles and across the back of her hand and blood was steadily escaping the veins underneath and flowing down the side of her fist. But she didn’t care.

Taking a few deep draws for air, the halfling lowered the arm to her side, ignoring the wound. She could already feel the skin pull and stretch and form around the wound, sealing it and stopping the flow of blood before it began to heal.

Why does she possess the same mark as me?

The question had no answer. At least, not for her.

As the anger began to fade and the aggravation became nothing more than a distant thought in her mind, the halfling felt defeated. This woman was going to continue to hound her and pull her into her mind until she got what she wanted and Witch appeared unable to stop her. There were only two choices available to her at the moment. She could track her down and help her as she requested, or she could kill her. Whichever proved to be the easier option, but both of them involved finding her and in order to do that she had to play into her plea for help and do as she asked. As much as it went against something within her and yet felt so right at the same time, she was going to have to help this person. Whoever she was.

“Fine...I’ll help you. Just tell me where you are...�

[Witchblade]

Sound, it was the first sense that came back to her. She could hear the rustle of the leaves in the trees as the wind gently moved through them, slithering a path of least resistance like a snake. Then touch as she felt the air slither across her skin, eliciting the slightest shiver along her pale flesh as it moved down the deep v of her shirt and caressed her breasts. It touched her arms and ruffled her long black hair, shifting it away from the back of her neck and her shoulders. The sensation of her silk like strands of hair across her shoulders seemed more intense as her mind pulled itself back into her body. Everything seemed more intense, as if she were experiencing them again for the first time. Or maybe it had been her sensory deprivation which made it all seem so much more now. Sight quickly followed, for even though her eyes had always been open, only now did Witch start to perceive her surroundings. The light of the sun seemed too bright, causing her to squint in an attempt to shield her sensitive eyes from it. The colour of the trees was too green and far too brown, creating a blinding and bleeding painters portrait that burned her retinas.

Relief was what followed next, above all of her other senses. It was just relief. But she didn’t feel comfortable in it. Something burned at the back of her mind, something that was trying to claw its way to the forefront of her thought and make her realize a truth all too late for her to change. She didn’t understand why her heart was beating so quickly within the cage of her chest and the why the singing sensation of adrenaline was pumping through her veins. It clouded her mind, making it hard for her to think as the smell of blood began to permeate her senses.

Blood.

It saturated the air around her to the point where she could taste it on her tongue. It lingered, like a fine mist and spurred the lust for death hidden within her, the lust for killing. She stumbled backwards as she noticed the blood on the trees and leaves for the first time. Her hands reflexively opened and she heard two distinctive thuds against the dried and dead leaves and twigs. Some of them snapped and broke and echoed throughout the forest and into the drum of her ear.

Her hands felt slick and wet.

Witchblade looked down and what she saw nearly brought her to her knees. The ground was covered in blood, a thin layer of it that seemed o drip down into the very soil and feed the plants as if they lived off it. It was still dripping from the bodies of Adrian and Jacob and two of the others. Their bodies mangled, their innards torn from within and scattered around the leaves as their dead eyes stared off, frozen in absolute pain and horror. Only one of them moved. The body of Trey, he was beaten and broken but not dead. No, he was clutching at his throat and coughing as if finally receiving air that had been denied to him for far too long.

She had been strangling him when she’d come around.

There were puncture marks in the side of his neck causing a steady but not life threatening flow of blood to seep onto his pale skin and soak into his shirt. She recognized what the marks were from, the claws her nails could turn into. The claws that could easily rip through flesh and muscle and even bone. Oh, by the Thayne, she had killed them all.

Then the sound of laughter began to ring throughout the confines of her skull. It bounced and echoed, mocking her and forcing her to clutch at the side of her head with her blood stained hands.

NO! No, no, no, NOOO!

Fucking Malice was going to pay for this!

She fell to her knees, crunching down on the forest floor and not even caring at the sharp edges of a few stick stabbed at her legs. She deserved it and much, much more for what she had done.

“Aww, come on. You would have enjoyed it if you’d been here.�

She screamed at it. For the first time instead of keeping her cool and calm demeanour within the confines of her own mind, she screamed and threw everything she had at it. Barraging it with attack after attack until she could feel the strain on her mental abilities but not truly caring. As she watched Trey struggle to get away from her, Witch slowly pulled herself back up to her feet.

“T-Trey...Trey!�

Her voice only made him struggle even harder to get away from her. Even though she didn’t want to, Witchblade pushed into his mind and grimaced as she was bombarded by the images of her—but not her—ripping apart the humans she had come so close to calling friends. She felt his anger, his pain and confusion and everything that accompanied her vicious attack on him and his friends. Of the people she had been entrusted to keep safe from the monsters around them while she had forgotten to protect them from the worst monster of all. Herself. She felt his line of thought, the screaming words telling him to get away from her as quickly as possible. And he might have been able to given how slow she was reacting. He might have and she could have just let him go if he left her line of sight, but his leg was broken and crawling through the guts and blood of your friends was never an easy task. At the end of it all, she knew he was going to tell Sorahn what had transpired and she knew that her leader would probably kill her for what had occurred here today.

Digging deeper into his head, Witch pulled on the memories from the night before. She forced them into the forefront of his mind and blanketed everything that had occurred within the last few hours. She felt his body change and his heart begin to slow despite what had happened, the mind’s effect on the body. Then, she crossed the distance between them and knelt down next to him.

“I’m so sorry, Trey.�

She didn’t know if he would have responded or not because she didn’t give him the chance to. Wrapping one of her arms around his neck and then the other around his head, the halfling used her strength to twist his neck to the side far more than it was meant to go until she heard the audible crack of his spine. Then he fell limp in her arms.

I’m so sorry...

Easing his body onto the ground, Witchblade slowly came to her feet and looked around at the carnage before her. Hearing the sound of rustling leaves she turned and watched as Daegun slowly limped his way out of the underbrush and towards her. He was keeping his right leg tucked in close to his body and she could see the blood dripping from it.

“No need to get all apologetic over just a few bodies!�

She snarled as her hands balls into tight fists and she could feel her nails pierce skin that took seconds to heal. As she turned towards her baby dragon though, the halfling felt her heart stop and stutter within her chest. Her breath caught somewhere in her lungs and throat and threatened to choke her, leaving her mind blank. Before her, as if it had always been there, was a shadow, a swirling contour of mist representing a man. She could see the trees through it and watched as the light of the sun passed right through to the ground as if it wasn’t really there. And in reality it wasn’t, it was just a figment of her fragmented mind. The Malice had taken physical form.

[Witchblade]

She could still feel it. Despite having washed herself in a river and scrubbed at her skin over and over again she could still feel the sticky sensation of blood covering her hands and her arms, even her face and her chest. It had gotten everywhere. Dirt was still under her nails, sticking out against her pale skin. She didn’t care about the dirt, the remnants of burying all those bodies and body parts, she just hated the blood. It felt like it was covering every square inch of her and she swore she could still smell it in the air even after having left the forest. Even after returning to the camp.

No one paid attention to her. Unlike before when the peasants and the soldiers would move out of her way as if she possessed the plague, now they barely even glanced at her. But her hood was drawn and covering her face and she was keeping her cloak tightly wrapped around her body, shielding herself from their eyes. Their scared eyes.

Their large, brown eyes searching her face for some kind of compassion and mercy.

Her jaw clenched, grinding her teeth down against each other until pain shot up through the confines of her mouth and into her jaw, making her feel like she had cracked and broken a few. But she didn’t care. They’d heal anyway. She always healed.

Reaching Sorahn’s tent, Witch moved passed the guards without a second glance like she always did. They were so used to her by now that they barely even looked at her. Throwing open the heavy tent flaps, she moved into the cool and shaded interior, filled with the familiar scent of her leader. He always smelled close to the forest, something hard to describe, natural and very different from the scent that humans gave off. But underneath it all, he smelled like an animal, because beneath the rationale and calm demeanour he always portrayed, he was an animal, possibly in far more than looks as well.

The main area of his tent was empty of his person. The room simply being filled with that wobbling table and the same map she had been looking at this morning and yesterday. It was like a bad sense of déjÃ* vu from earlier today. All she needed was her leader to be in front of her and the humans standing behind her. It almost felt like they were, but she dared not turn around lest she see their ghosts following behind her.

She could have spared Trey. She could have let him live.

She could have done a lot of things in her life that she hadn’t. It would just be another regret to push to the back of her mind and forget about. Another memory that would be lost to the darkness. Another face, another name that would amount to a whole heaping shit pile or nothing.

Hearing something stir within the private areas of the tent, Witch straightened herself and pulled the hood back from her face. She didn’t want to, she would prefer to continue to hide herself, but she was trying to give Sorahn as much respect as she could. Just as the material of her hood touched her shoulders, she saw Sorahn emerge from a candle lit room off to the right side. The parted material allowed her a quick glimpse inside to what must have been his living quarters. Her sharp senses only able to take in a table with a few candles upon it and what may have been the corner of his bed.

“Witchblade?” He looked upon her quizzically, his eyes roaming her face and her demeanour. Perhaps he knew she was hiding something, perhaps he suspected her. She didn’t know and she didn’t want to delve into his mind to find out, even though she had the ability. “Where are the others?”

He wanted her to tell him they were in town and that she had sent them home while she came to him to give her report. She knew that without looking into his mind because that was the kind of person Sorahn was, but she knew there was also some worry hiding within him. He suspected the worst. All leaders did. It helped them cope with the truth.

“They’re dead.” The halfling said it much easier than she thought she could. The words just flowed from her mind to his and she watched as his body tensed and his eyes shifted. They narrowed slightly on her, not enough to accusing, but just shy of it.

“What happened to them?”

Here came the lie, Witch could only hope it was convincing enough.

“We were ambushed by a group of Minotaur, mostly my fault for not sensing them sooner. They fought but... didn’t make it; my healing abilities are the only thing that kept me alive.”

No details. He didn’t need to know any details because that was where one always screwed up and the lie came back to them. Besides, he wouldn’t want to know how he men were viciously ripped apart by just barely intelligent creatures like Minotaur. At least, Witch hoped he wouldn’t.

“I...understand.” His shoulders slumped slightly as he closed his eyes for a moment. “Their bodies?”

“I buried them” At least she wasn’t lying about this part. “If you want...it’s about five hours from here, marked by five large stones set in a circle.”
Sorahn nodded his head.

“I’m sorry, Sorahn.” The words were sincere, as was the emotion they were spoken with.

He looked up at her, searching her face for a long time while the silence stretched between them. “You did all you could, Witchblade. Thank you...”

No, she didn’t.

Inclining her head towards her leader, the halfling turned and left the tent. She didn’t want to be around him any longer, in fact, she didn’t want to be around anyone right now. She just wanted peace and quiet and the darkness of her own mind. Even knowing that though, her feet somehow turned and took her towards the training grounds where she had first met Jacob and Trey.

Two days later she left for a place called Dheathain. One she’d never been to before even as the name rolled off her tongue with a sense of familiarity. She left because she couldn’t stand to look Sorahn in the eyes anymore and wonder what went on behind them. She left because she hated all the humans around her and what they reminded her of. She left to try to be a hero for once instead of just another monster.

SPOILS:

The Malice: The Malice has now evolved within Witchblade’s mind, growing stronger thanks to her current state. This is represented by its new physical appearance that only Witch can see. It looked like nothing more than a wispy and shadowy shape of a man. He cannot touch anything, even Witchblade. His hand would do nothing more than go right through her, for though he can be seen by her he is still nothing more than a figment of her mind. The Malice now has an easier time influencing her, no longer needing to talk to her to do it, but drip subtle ideas in her mind that she would think her own and in almost any unconscious state he can take control over her body. When it is in control, the only physical difference upon her is her eyes, which turn pure black. All of her abilities and skills are doubled in this state and The Malice may use abilities—especially magic—that Witch has no knowledge of. (This ability—if you can call it an ability—is for storyline purposes and already exists within her profile. It is merely evolving.)