I sat there on the ground and whacked the occasional spider that passed close by or tried to bite me. I was glad that only the small ones travelled around, because the bigger ones were terrifying. It wasn't the venom, it was that they were so big that when they bit you, the fangs stabbed and killed you before the venom could do the work.
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You have a choice here. What you chose will be crucial to how things progress. Be careful.
A) Go inside. B) Apologize. C) Yell again. D) Stay where you are. E) Cry. F) Eat the spiders.
The only thing I want to do is sit here. I thought with indignation. I choose D.
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I didn't know how long I sat there, even when the sun started to set and the darkness of the marsh crept up from the ground and covered everything. I wasn't very good at telling time and it could have been a couple hours or all day. I didn't know and I didn't care. I heard the door of the hut creak open and didn't turn around.
“Boy.” The Hag said, her voice barely a guttural growl. “I think it's time you were taught your place.”
I didn't turn around, even when I felt two bony hands grab my shoulders. I looked up and fear filled me. The Hag was shrivelled up and her hair was mostly gone. Her eyes were two half-filled yellow orbs and she couldn't blink her eyelids. I opened my mouth to scream and she spit in it.
I instantly choked on it and my throat closed over and my body convulsed. It must have been a venom of some kind, because my whole world became a terror filled kaleidoscope with visions of unimaginable horrors and pain. I couldn't scream, because my throat was closed off. I could breathe, thankfully. I screamed and screamed in my head as I pretty much lost my mind to the horrific things I could see.
It went on and on for I didn't know how long. Eventually, my mind seemed to adjust to it. The horrors were less scary. The visions less real. The pain lessened.
It seemed to take forever until everything faded away and I regained my eyesight. I was once again on the Hag's bed and I was too afraid to look down at myself, knowing what I knew about the Hag.
“You better look, Boy.” The Hag said and I turned my head to look at her. She was no longer shrivelled and was back to her very beautiful self, which meant it was very bad for me. “You need to get used to the constant reminder I have given you.” She said with a wicked smile.
My breathing sped up and I was too scared to move. She reached out and grabbed my wrist, then she lifted my right hand and showed it to me.
“NO!” I yelled.
The smallest finger on my hand was missing!
I only had three fingers and a thumb now. It looked like I never had a small finger on that hand and it was healed over. I lifted my left hand on my own, knowing what I would see, and saw that it was the same.
“Every time you try to grab something, for the rest of your life, you will be reminded of me.” The Hag said with satisfaction as fear filled me. “I've told you over and over. I am not your mother. I OWN you. Kind words for you will never pass my lips. I bought you for two copper when you were only a sick little baby. Your parents were actually eager to be rid of you.” She laughed her pleasant laugh that made me even more afraid. “If they only knew what I had in store for you, they would have upped the price!”
My parents. I thought and hate filled me. It's their fault this happened to me!
The Hag smiled as she felt it from me. “Be careful when you try to walk. I've taken a few toes from you as well.”
My anger deepened and I lifted my head to look at my feet. The two smallest toes on each foot were gone and like my missing little fingers, they also looked like they were never there in the first place. I wiggled my remaining toes and thought that I was now just like those three toed monsters that roamed the marsh every few months. I would be leaving similar footprints in the damp ground.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
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Nice going. Your little tantrum got you maimed. What do you want to do now?
A) Cry. B) Throw another tantrum. C) Beg for food. D) Get used to it. E) Make soup for the Hag.
The first three won't do anything. I thought and looked at the fourth option. No, she won't give me time to do that. I know she won't. I sighed. I choose E.
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I carefully slid to the edge of the bed. I was unsteady with only six fingers and two thumbs, because my brain kept trying to spread out my small fingers to stabilize me. I put my feet on the floor and knew I was going to fall the first time. I also knew that the Hag was going to laugh at me for it, too. I pushed off of the bed and tried to stand up.
My balance was completely off and I took two stumbling steps before I dropped to the ground. I hurt both my hands when I tried to catch myself, because I didn't have the extra finger and the sides of my hands slammed into the ground, instead of my palms. I took two breaths and got my knees under me, then started to crawl instead.
The Hag laughed. “Are you going back to being a baby now?” She asked. “I hope you don't think I'm going to change you. I didn't do it when you were a baby and I'm not doing it now! Ha hahaha!”
I ignored her and crawled over to the large cooking cauldron and the snake's long body was coiled up in it. I pulled it out onto the dirt floor and took out my stub of a knife. I held the snake's head steady and jammed the knife into the neck, just behind the head. It took me a few tries, since I only had three fingers to keep a grip on the handle.
I managed to not mangle the snake or my fingers, then I tossed the head into the metal bucket for poison potion ingredients. I flipped the snake's body over and pulled more of it out of the pot, then did my best to be both careful and precise as I skinned the snake. It took a long time for me to do the entire six feet and then I lopped off the end where the cloaca was.
I ran my stub knife all the way back up the entire length of the snake, dug inside of it, then pulled out all of the internal organs. I tossed them into a different bucket that was used for other potions, then I put the body back into the large cauldron. I looked at the spot where the cauldron had to go for me to start cooking the soup and I sighed. I would have to stand up to do it and I was going to fall again.
I decided to just drag the cauldron over to the spot first, rather than carry the thing. I half-crawled and held onto the cooking pot as I moved across the dirt floor to the right spot. Now that I was there, I realized there were no hand holds for me to lift myself. I sighed again and did my best to brace myself with the cauldron, then pulled myself up onto my unsteady feet. I stayed there for a minute to try and keep my balance.
I took a deep breath and grabbed the handles, lifted it for only a second to get it up onto the rack over the cold fire pit, then dropped it in place. I slipped and fell, banged my chin on the pot and my cheek on the handle, and my knees slammed against the stone fire pit. I cried out in pain and recoiled as I rolled onto the floor on my back. I didn't know what to rub first, because everything hurt.
The fire pit suddenly burst into flames and I let out an inarticulate yell as my hair almost caught fire. I rolled away from the heat and checked my hair to see if anything had burned and found several chunks missing. It didn't look like it was burned, which was a relief. It always took longer to grow back when it was burned off.
I crawled over to the side of the hut to where the barrel of water was and realized my dilemma. I couldn't carry water over to the cauldron.
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A minor choice. I'd let the Hag starve if it was me.
A) Ask for help. B) Plead. C) Appeal to her common sense. D) Tell her to get it herself. E) Beg.
Most of them are bad, so I have to go with A. I choose A.
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“I can't cook your favorite soup without water.” I said, my voice sad. “Can you help? I only need half a container.”
The Hag gave me an angry look and I didn't change my expression as I pointed to the container. She stomped over and grabbed the container, splashed it into the barrel and then tossed the container and the water across the hut. Luckily, the container went right into the pot and I heard the water splash and sizzle around the snake.
I didn't say thank you, because she would definitely hit me if I did, and I noticed my short pole on the floor. I crawled over to it, tucked it into my pants, then went to the pot again. I used the pole to help myself stand up, stuck my hand into the pot and pulled out the container, then used one of the large spoons to stir the snake.
There was enough water in the pot that as long as I was careful, the meat would slide off of the snake's skeleton and I could remove the bones easily. With the water and the meat left, I could add some nice marsh grass, the mushrooms that always grew near the hut, and a few tubers that grew beside the waist deep waterway nearby. After a few sprinkles of seasoning and letting it simmer, it would be ready.
The entire time I worked, I was afraid of what the Hag would do to me next. After a while, I could almost feel her satisfaction at accomplishing what she had intended, which was fixing her mistake at letting me think that she cared about me at all. I glanced down at my mangled hands and feet and I definitely knew where my place was.
Firmly under her watchful eyes and in her terrible and tenderizing care.