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Wicked Witch of Valentine
Chapter 12: Immediate Conflict

Chapter 12: Immediate Conflict

As the woods stirred and the sound of rustling intensified, only then did Priscilla realize that the sound was coming closer. It seemed that her crash had attracted the attention of people in the area. 'Bandits? Merchants? Rebels?' she didn't know who was coming, she was about to leave; but it wasn't meant to be. Men emerged from between the trees one after the other. They had rough appearances that alluded to a life of banditry, they were fearless and approached without hesitation, wielding hatchets and blades showing signs of wear and tear— coated in the blood of who knows how many innocent souls. As they broke free of the canopy of trees blocking their sight and saw the woman standing in a crater in the woods, their eyes widened with mixed emotions.

Several of them glowed with desire as they were struck by the woman's flawless beauty, the curves that shimmered delightfully in her cerulean gown, and the exposed flesh that whet the appetite. They licked their lips with fervent desire as they eyed her up and down. Some of the more rational ones were more shocked why a random woman stood silent in such a large crater of wanton destruction that appeared. They heard the thudding roar of the quaking earth and the shattering trees which is why they came to see what happened, but finding a woman... was not something they expected. These men had experienced countless dangers in their life, moments that would put them at the edge of a blade, and as they faced this mysterious woman they felt the sweat drip down their backs, like staring at the precipice of a cliff from whence there is no return. They instinctively took a step back, as the more mindless of the group took several steps forward, baring their teeth with desire as lust took control of their dulled instincts. To them she was no danger, but a delicate and silky piece of meat.

One of the men snickered. ''What brings a fine noble lady like yourself to these isolated woods?'' he asked in in a booming voice as he grinned stupidly at her.

''Did you get frightened by the noise and froze up?'' another asked, revealing his toothless smile typical of someone born and raised in the Empire's shadows.

Their voices broke Priscilla out of her stupor as she glanced around herself, seeing the men flock like animals irked her greatly. She had just returned and was on a high, but she just had to be bothered immediately after. ''Who are you?'' she asked with a chill.

The men seeing her reaction snickered, they didn't care much that she was upset. It wouldn't be the first woman alone in the woods that was upset at them. They began to approach her, their feet sliding down the slight slope of the large crater she was in. Priscilla found herself encircled by six men, while another three warily stood further back, the few whose instincts still functioned and screamed that there were dangers ahead of them.

''C'mere girl, come with us and we'll take real good care of you.'' one of the men said, whilst reaching his arm out towards her shoulder. Priscilla reacted defensively and slapped his hand away before retracting herself into a combative position. Both offensive and defensive like a coiled cobra waiting to strike.

''I'm not going anywhere with you pigs.'' she spat as she glared coldly at them.

The men laughed uproariously at her display, 'who did she think she was' they thought as one of the men spat a large slimy wad of phlegm on the ground. He slapped the side of his hatchet against his open palm before muttering to the woman. ''Now lady, we're being so nice and welcoming here, and yet you're so eager to disrespect me, huh?''

''Do I look like a fucking joke to you?'' he spat angrily. ''Come here while I'm being nice, or we'll have to break you in first.''

''Did you not hear me the first time?'' she said, ignoring his comment. ''I'm not going anywhere with you filthy pigs. And yes— you do look like a fucking joke.'' she added mockingly.

The man's face dropped with a serious chilling intent as he looked upon her, like a wounded predator he radiated hostility as he held his hatchet towards her. The man felt utter confidence in himself as he believed she'd be no match for him. ''This might sting a bit.'' he said mockingly as he slammed the hatchet down towards her. The other men laughing just the same as they waited for her to get caught. They fantasized about all of the things they'd do once they returned. Their excitement surged tremendously, but they didn't know— who they were messing with.

Priscilla scoffed at their blatant lust and aggression, her gaze frosted over as she took in the men's faces. They ruined her joyous reunion with the world, so she had to make them regret it. No longer would she be soft and naive. She threw herself forwards with a swift step, slapping the man's wrist hard causing the hatchet to dislodge itself and fall to the ground. The man grunted in pain feeling the shattering impact and the sad state of his wrist. The men who circled the perimeter warily got frightened at her reaction, they fled rapidly without turning back. They did not want to deal with it, no matter what. Their instincts were screaming— begging them to run, and run they did.

The ones who remained jumped at her provocation, they may have underestimated her, but that'd be the last time that happened. They thought she was a simple rabbit to hunt, but she was far more of a beast than they could've guessed. Before they could reach her, the woman twirled her leg upwards striking the man's neck with ferocity, he felt the abrupt sting of pain before everything in front of him turned dark. The man toppled almost immediately as he crashed to the ground in front of her. It caused the others to halt their steps momentarily from surprise, and Priscilla took advantage of that moment to slam her heel down atop the man's head— repeatedly. Blood covered her foot as half his face caved in gruesomely. The other men surrounding her felt a frantic fear assault their senses as they looked at the wicked woman.

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''DEMON, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!'' one of the men shouted frantically.

Hearing this, Priscilla froze for a second. ''What did you just say?'' she asked flatly. Her heartbeat intensifying as it coursed blood through her body.

''You heard me! You're a monster, a demon! You killed him!'' the man uttered like possessed, his legs trembling.

''Screw this bitch, attack her! ATTACK!'' another man shouted, thrusting his weapon towards her side. The others reactively attacked as well, assaulting the woman from all sides.

It was a point of no return for her— and for the men. Something snapped inside of her as she grit her teeth in a silent seething fury. She lunged at the two men closest to her, her hands caressing their faces in a violent thrust as she toppled them to the ground. Her fury sparked as an imperceptible glow emanated from her body, the singing flame snaked out from the tips of her fingertips entering the men through their mouths. Within mere moments their flesh burst into flames causing them to scream and flail. They rolled their bodies on the ground violently trying to put the flames out, but they could do nothing to a fire that burned within them. They cursed and spat and foamed, but it was all meaningless. It took mere moments for them to turn to ash and bone in front of their companions.

The genuine fear seeped into their souls now as they stared at the demonic woman that stood in front of them, her exterior beautifully flawless, but the monstrosity that lay inside of her was too terrifying for words. They regretted it— they regretted everything; why did they provoke this creature? One of the men pissed himself as the foul odour wafted into the air. They were losing their minds, and their lives. They knew it— they felt it. They attacked with abandonment, flailing their weapons with no skill or logic. Priscilla dodged simply to the back, avoiding their attacks with graceful movement, she kicked her foot out, slamming it hard against one man's ribs and sending him tumbling on the ground. He coughed and held his torso as he felt the throbbing pain assault him.

The woman was out of control, she attacked with cruel intention— but it was the men who had provoked her ire. She couldn't care less about them right now, she hated being called a monster, it was the same as her father— her friends. They all treated her like a monster, and it angered her immensely. ''Fine!'' she muttered, ''You wanted a monster, then you'll get one.'' her cerulean eyes glowed with a crimson tint as she kicked out at one of the remaining men into the chest. He heaved as he felt the forceful disconnect of his bones shattering and the ungodly pain.

Priscilla coldly gazed at the remaining man as he knelt in front of her. Tears and piss flowing equally as he begged her for mercy. Reason cleared her angered mind, it told her to act with grace and dignity; that a heavy hand can't cure everything. But was it reason or something else— another form of reason stirred in opposition; she was always innocent, always naive, always kind and willing. If she wanted to change, if she wanted to enjoy life and take claim to it with her own hands, then she should silence him. Avoid the troubles to come— prevent it. It was an inner conflict that paused her for a moment, the man seeing her lost in her thoughts thought he had a chance. He thrust his blade towards her neck as fast as he could, but he was too slow for the woman's instincts.

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Priscilla found herself sitting on the edge of a small riverbed with her feet dangling in the water. She embraced her knees as her eyes reflected in the clear water. The glimmers of tears carefully cuddling the corners of them as she watched the flowing water. She killed someone. Not a manifestation, not a fiction, but a real person, and more than one of them. It was a strange feeling when she fully wrapped herself in it. They claimed she had done such atrocities in her life— yet she felt so dreadful after taking the life of ones who wished her harm. How could it be so easy? She got up, taking a sip of the cold river water, before washing her face in it. She didn't have time for weakness, or feeling bad about it. They were hostile, they wanted to harm her. This world wasn't kind enough to forgive everyone who wanted to harm you, if she felt sorrow for all of them, she'd never accomplish her dreams and desires like this.

She got up and walked towards a nearby tree where she left a cloak and some bags that she had taken off of the men who hadn't turned to piles of ash. The satchels of coin had enough to get her by, she could ger her fill in an inn and rest for a few days, even buy some information maybe. The water-skin was good for the journey, and the rations of food would be beneficial to her as well. Even the cloak could prove to be useful, since she still wore the gown on her back she died with. She would really need to find something else— something a bit less conspicuous and more comfortable for fighting with. At least with the cloak she could hide herself somewhat, perhaps enough to get into a smaller town if it wasn't guarded heavily.

It really depended on where she was— no matter how much she had studied in life previously, to distinguish one random patch of forest from another was nearly impossible. The only thing she was certain of was that it was somewhere in the Empire, but where... it frankly didn't matter to her. She wanted to see the world, from the eyes of freedom. She could take her time and adapt and learn her surroundings. She needed to know how long it's been since she burned as well. There were simply too many things to accomplish to worry about the small details. She chuckled to herself as she collected the things and wrapped them around her waist. She no longer felt the sting of regret, or the pang of guilt from killing, for her journey was only just beginning. She'd need to explore her surroundings, but eventually she should find something. Whether it was the bandits, merchants, or even the hunters, they all had to come and go from somewhere. Even she knew that much.