Gwen.
The voice in her head shattered her bones, and Gwenda tried to scream as she turned to see a familiar figure.
Where did you put my wings, darling?
She trembled.
— Mother? — she whispered in response, disoriented.
The woman smiled.
Miss me?
Gwenda blinked several times and stepped back, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to move. The woman didn't move away.
She swallowed hard.
Trust me. You can tell me where you hid them. Where are my wings?
The last sentence came out in the beginning of panic.
Where are they?
Mary Jane's voice was sharp, tearful. Agonized.
You hid them. Where.
— I didn't... it wasn't me.
It was you. Acidic and bitter. That voice she believed she knew so well.
— No. — whispered Gwenda. — They burned. — she said softly, but then she swallowed hard and raised her voice so she could be heard better. — They burned. I tried to help but I couldn't...
Liar. The voice echoed everywhere.
A gust of wind started, and Gwenda's hair whipped her face forcefully. She put a hand over her eyes, protecting herself.
Gwenda's heart raced in her chest, running from something that was impossible to escape.
Your father promised me. The woman continued. You would save us. You had the hand of fire, you burned me alive.
Gwenda shrank back. The wind roared in her ears.
It was you from the beginning. But your father promised me that our dear daughter would save us.
The dear was like a knife in her heart.
He was a liar. Just like you.
Gwenda wanted to disagree, really wanted to. But she couldn't, not when it was a truth she didn't like to admit.
You are the same. A long pause, and then a low, evil laugh. Murderers.
Gwenda's chest tightened, and her throat closed. Her legs gave way, and she found herself falling into a dark, monstrous abyss, full of chaos and disorder.
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No. Gwenda didn't kill her own mother. She wouldn't do such a thing...
Tears streamed down her face, and her body gave in.
She wouldn't kill her own mother, but how many others had already been killed by her hands? By her trigger.
Gwenda screamed, clutching the restless hair near her scalp. Their last breaths were buzzing in her ears. But then she felt something wet accumulating in her palms.
Slowly, she pulled her hands away and looked at the strangely formed blood. The metallic smell almost made her vomit, and Gwenda gasped as she quickly moved her hands away from her face, recoiling backwards.
The blood didn't stop coming. Drops formed waterfalls, which formed lakes just below where they fell. She looked ahead and jerked back in surprise to see a trail of blood stretching for miles. The same blood of the dead that Gwenda had abandoned on the earth to be devoured.
She swallowed a scream and stopped when she felt a powerful presence behind her. Someone who could wrap millions of arms around her and pull her by the hair into the darkness, as Gwenda once did with a human she had just discovered to be a witch.
A low, sinister laugh made her body shiver, and a delicate, cold hand caressed her cheek. The wind stopped abruptly. Gwenda held her breath and restrained herself from moving away, not wanting to cause more trouble.
You're still beautiful. Said the mother behind her, her mouth near Gwenda's ear, her teeth almost grazing the lobe. And you're very talented. Too bad it's a complete waste.
Gwenda swallowed hard.
You're a waste. She said, taking a few steps back, and made sure her daughter could hear, then spoke with amusement: We would love to finish what we started, my daughter.
The silence hurt her ears, and Gwenda waited a while before she could breathe again. When she felt that everything seemed to return to reality, she exhaled, and a layer of warm air condensed right in front of her...
Gwenda couldn't scream, she was so scared.
Hands grabbed her legs, arms, hips, waist, neck. They scratched every part of her skin that she still seemed to feel and pulled her back.
The hands were so cold they made her shiver from head to toe.
She began to ask for help, unable to scream, but all she received was echoes of her own voice.
Someone pulled her hair so hard that she was sure strands were pulled out.
Gwenda fell to the ground when they took away her balance and let out a muffled gasp before they covered her mouth with a hand so pale and soft it had a purple hue, holding her.
Her face began to hurt.
She screamed with her mouth closed, tears still streaming down every corner of her face. Her arms were pinned behind her back, and hands slipped under her nightgown, scratching and pulling until she was sitting with her legs turned to the side.
She tried to lean forward, but it was impossible. The hair stuck to her forehead, temples, and neck no longer seemed like a nuisance compared to dead hands wandering over her body.
She held back the bile within her.
Gwenda squirmed, but they held her ankles and sought to restrain her in every way they found possible. Every place they touched burned her, and Gwenda could only scream beneath the cold layer on her lips.
She didn't dare bite the hand on her mouth, she didn't know what would happen, she didn't know the consequences of such an act. Although she thought whoever it was wouldn't feel anything.
Hundreds more hands appeared, covering every corner of her body, dressing her like clothes. She trembled only from the cold, territorial touches that seemed to tease her sensory nerves, slowly burning her pores like her mother was burned from the inside out at the same time the fire made her home ashes.
Only her eyes were not covered, only they were still in Gwenda's trust, searching for anything in the light that illuminated the darkness ahead. But there was nothing but her mother's almost transparent face, staring at her.
But then she widened her eyes when a hand collided with her face and blocked her vision. She growled and struggled, but it was useless when she fell to the side, and they dragged her into the darkness like any other body thrown to the ground, straight into a place without a hint of light.
And when she knew she was going to fail to fight, not even her lungs received air properly, Gwenda gave up and waited for the worst.