Darwin didn't know that much about the 'Witches" of which he was soon to be facing. Nor did he know much about what to expect from their magic. Only that they were stronger then he, and that this was intolerable to his primed senses.
What was worse, his attempted glorious return had been blocked by the most enraging of obstacles. The door was closed, and he couldn't reach the handle. Glaring up at the wrought iron knob that acted as guardian to this passage way, with such heated contempt as he wished the metal to boiling and smoky fire under his gaze. Yet even flexing his awesome powers to they're limits, all he could manage to do is make it wobble, as it remained unyielding to his offensive advances. Anger and petty vows of vengeance boiled with in his throat like molten sulfur and spewed into the street like so much wretched vomit leaving a drunkard onto the pavement, rendered to the ears of those passing by as the mere impotent wailings of a wretched and worthless animal, stirring only pity or annoyance in those who might have stopped to listen.
"Such large troubles for such small creatures." a voice chuckled above him, the soft crooning disguising a sharp wit and bemusement. Turning to face the body that cast such a large shadow over the door frame, Darwin turned and hissed in fright, disgust, and petty anger. The old woman chuckled and simply made a flick motion with her wrist. 'None of that now pet." She commanded and Darwin's mouth closed on it own volition, against his own wishes to keep screeching. Her hand pressed a iron key into the doors lock and the portal swung open to reveal the passage. "In you go, naughty thing, and play nice with the others."
As he entered the domain of the witch, he immediately noticed a change, the cats were not running about in untidy herds, lounging about in lazy heaps. They were lined up, standing still, almost motionless. Barely any breath emanating from them, blank stares focused on a point ahead of them on some phantom horizon. As Darwin walked among them he got the distinct impression that he was walking amidst the dead.
He felt the eyes of his mistress host upon him, blood freezing in his veins as he moved, hairs on end and twitching in every breeze. Her large frame, swaying slightly as she walked between the still animals, humming a tune softly.
It made Darwin giddy with anticipation, such display of power, even over animals, when scaled to men would be like the wrath of older times. When gods stalked the Earth and nations trembled. Yet now, he found himself facing that same power and ambition in all its terrible ambitions and desires. Aside from the fear his mind was racing with ideas as sparks within his mind came thick and fast like a bonfire.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
"Now my little pets." the lady of the house crooned, passing a hand over some of the frozen felines, "Where should I begin? So much to do and so little time. I-" she faltered a moment, a hand pressed to her check "Oh, no Valentine I do not think-" a shudder grips her as a mote of black spittle leaks from her mouth. As she regains herself, the sensation of something on her check bringing her hand over to wipe the black grease from her aged face. "Oh dear me, I- I seem to be running low." she mutters, casting her eye across the room "I dare say I'll need more then this to fix it." a moment of pause and then she declares "Oh, Saints and Stars above, Dorothy would know... but will she see the sign?" slipping into absent mindedness once more. Turning to hum towards the window again, a few words in the air as she did.
"young blood, sweet blood, the fleeting youth of children's laughter, sweet thing it is, young blood..." playing with a strand of hair.
It was an old poem, but those were not the words to the old rhyme, "Sweet blood, young love, Fleeting mirth of lovers young, that sweet young love and blood." penned so long ago to commemorate the death of the young noble who'd died with a lover during a late summer. It had been popular among those lovers of tragedy and those with giddy stupid hearts. Skipping lover and saccharine delights for those whose shallow minds failed to comprehend true history. An arrogant sniff to the air, if this old hag couldn't remember the simplest details what hope was there of threatening him with whatever magic powers she possessed, the only fear would be if she forgotten all her secrets first.
Now that would be a shame.
"Letter, red letter, letter of the law, Letter and lease, Oh!" the old crone seemed to snap free of her daze "Did I ever send that old letter?" she putters, skittishly moving around, clicking her fingers. the cats seem to waver each time, blinking or flinching in time with the movements. Finally she pointed at Darwin directly "Your a special kitty aren't you? I know you are, smoke and brimstone you are, like the Devil." she chuckled. Pushing back the loose strands of hair. "Goodness me I'm speaking to cats, Alright, all of you, off your rumps. Go on get!" She cried and it was like letting a coiled spring loose as the fur bags all sprang up from they're positions at once and began to race.
"Well, I'd better get to doing while I'm thinking, I'm not sure how long this will last. Oh, I should see Father Mackenzie, perhaps the Lord was listening to his prayers and Saints after all! Praise be! the Fog has lifted." she cried and Darwin winced. "The rest of you take your time, and see if you find a letter written to a Dorothy Gale and Valentine Sweet, no, It was Dorothy Sweet and Valentine Gale." the flustered woman sighed "Just find the ruddy thing you fleabags." She screeched before slamming the door on her way out of the house. Leaving a room full of ornery and sore cats to start moseying around the room sorting through the filth and garbage for a single scrap of paper.
Leaving Darwin once again, Alone, confused, and angry. Always angry.