Burnt and Frozen
A mafia game
It was certainly not a good day to be out delivering mail.
Rain pelted down the rooftops, skidding along the hedges, drenching the two shadows that were huddled underneath a small umbrella. Thin mist hung around the streets, distant thunder echoing in the deserted town. The dark clouds frowned at the neat white envelope, as it was slipped beneath the door.
"Ah, that's the last one. They're all delivered."
The two witchgirls stared at the large door, shivering slightly as another gust of wind blew by.
"Was it even a good idea? You know what they call the group of us...it's like we are a cult that should be avoided." One of them mumbled, tiny hands clutching her blue cloak close.
The other witchgirl snorted. "Those were from the past. Those were times when I was mocked and unwelcomed and isolated. Those were times I hung out with vegetables and dogs."
The sky rumbled at those words, rain piercing down harder. The two friends seemed lost in their minds for a moment, certain unwanted memories flashing: Reading the words of hate, sobbing alone at night...Clawing at the table in anguish while scribbling gigantic 'SAVE ME' over rough papers...A thin blade, cold against the throat...Betrayals, anger, hate......
"Guawk---Guawk--"
The familiar, a heron perched atop a roof, cried in alert as another figure approached. The figure glanced at the two girls for a moment, before gasping and running straight for them:
"Intruder! Intruder! It's them! Those witches!"
Her twintails bobbing, the witchgirl in red shook her head dismissively. "Heh.....I couldn't wait till they accept the invitation." A dark grin crept up her small little face, as she spun around, dress stained blood red.
"This, my dear Heron, is the time for revenge."
Sweet, sweet, revenge.
By the time the townsfolk caught up to them, only a petal and a feather remained.
A mafia game
It was certainly not a good day to be out delivering mail.
Rain pelted down the rooftops, skidding along the hedges, drenching the two shadows that were huddled underneath a small umbrella. Thin mist hung around the streets, distant thunder echoing in the deserted town. The dark clouds frowned at the neat white envelope, as it was slipped beneath the door.
"Ah, that's the last one. They're all delivered."
The two witchgirls stared at the large door, shivering slightly as another gust of wind blew by.
"Was it even a good idea? You know what they call the group of us...it's like we are a cult that should be avoided." One of them mumbled, tiny hands clutching her blue cloak close.
The other witchgirl snorted. "Those were from the past. Those were times when I was mocked and unwelcomed and isolated. Those were times I hung out with vegetables and dogs."
The sky rumbled at those words, rain piercing down harder. The two friends seemed lost in their minds for a moment, certain unwanted memories flashing: Reading the words of hate, sobbing alone at night...Clawing at the table in anguish while scribbling gigantic 'SAVE ME' over rough papers...A thin blade, cold against the throat...Betrayals, anger, hate......
"Guawk---Guawk--"
The familiar, a heron perched atop a roof, cried in alert as another figure approached. The figure glanced at the two girls for a moment, before gasping and running straight for them:
"Intruder! Intruder! It's them! Those witches!"
Her twintails bobbing, the witchgirl in red shook her head dismissively. "Heh.....I couldn't wait till they accept the invitation." A dark grin crept up her small little face, as she spun around, dress stained blood red.
"This, my dear Heron, is the time for revenge."
Sweet, sweet, revenge.
By the time the townsfolk caught up to them, only a petal and a feather remained.
