The Wicked: Short Stories

“For the last time, tell us who the witch is, or thou shall burn at the stake for her sins.” A loud slap echoed in the barn, along with the stinging feeling on her cheek.

“I have already told you… it is I; I am the witch. By my troth!”

“Then say thine farewells, thou will burn at sundown.”

Melaina spat the blood accumulating in her mouth from the burst lip that asshole gave her, onto the barn floor. Chained to the floor, she was thinking to herself “They must really be afraid of independent women, all I did was to learn how to read… amongst some other things.” She felt sick to her stomach at the thought of being dependent on a man. Soon, surely the women would rise from their ashes, defying the patriarchy that has been oppressing them for long enough. What uncertain was that if she would live long enough to see it happen.

Her goodbyes were going to be short. She was orphaned at the age of 10, thanks to the so-called Righteous Father, the mayor and the priest of the town. Her dad was found guilty for “teaching his wife how to read and write, the basics of science and self-defence”. Him and her mother were executed but she was spared, just to be a maid to the filthy, rich, and absolutely insufferable Lord Atwood. She couldn’t count how many times she wished that they also executed her along her family or how many times she thought of slitting her own throat with the razor she conceals under her skirt. However, the world wasn’t lucky enough to get rid of her this soon. She felt like she was destined to live longer, to be something more. Still and all, she could hear her time on this earth ticking louder and louder as the sundown approached.

At the barn door, stood the old friend of her father; an odd, outcast woman. The woman who taught her everything she knows. The woman she was going to be burned at the stake for.

This woman was the sole reason of her existence at the present moment. She took care of her after the death of her parents. Edena was a visionary like Melaina’s father, Henry, believing that women are supposed to be so much more than how they are treated. She schooled her at nights on science, history, art, and alchemy. A woman like her would definitely be considered a witch, which made her wonder how she managed to stay out of their radar for so long. Maybe her pupils always take the blame for her, just like I am about to.

“Melaina,” said Edena with soft black eyes, grabbing her face between her hands. “You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be the one chained to the floor. It should be them. Those bastards preach that they are the servants of God but there is nothing holy in what they do.” She slowly took her hands away for Melaina’s face to smoothen her clothes, as she was trying to scrape the hesitancy off of her upcoming words. She tried her best, but Melaina could hear the reluctance behind the woman’s captivating, silky voice.

“You are not dying tonight.”

Edena stood up and took couple of steps back to see the whole of this girl whom she was sculpting for 11 years. She had grown up to be this alluring, sly, honest, and annoyingly rebellious young woman. It didn’t surprise Edena to see her end up in chains, about to be burned at stake because she stood up for a woman getting scammed at the market, revealing her ability to read. She was already on the radar of the mayor due to the ‘incident’ with her parents. Her insurgent nature had raised some eyebrows also in the past, especially from that shithole of a ‘man’ Lord Atwood.

Edena was not going to let this precious girl die, not yet. She did not want to resort to this option, but she was out of time. It was almost sundown and the only way Melaina could leave this place was with a still heart.

“Give me your razor, now.” ordered Edena. Melaina obeyed her words but was hesitant while handing her the shiny metal.

“You know that that’s not going to help against these chains.” she scoffed.

“It is not for the chains, it’s for your neck. The slit will cover the bite mark.” Edena moved closer to the girl.

“The bite mark? The slit? Edena, what are you doing?”

“Come on girl, do not act stupid.” growled the old woman. “You’ve been thinking that I am a witch, I know. You are almost right. I am a night witch, a vampire, like from those books I forbid you from reading. I know you read them anyway.” she sighed loudly. “You realise that your only way out of here is your death. So, I will be the one to deliver you to its calming hand. But worry not. You will be up and awake in couple of hours, just, a little different.”

Edena glazed over her shoulder to assess the time they have left. The shadows were long and the orange haze was overcasting the town.

“Come on now, we’re almost out of time.” whispered Edena and before Melaina could even process what was about to happen, the night witch pierced the pale neck of the girl with her fangs; drawing enough blood to make them believe that she was dead, leaving enough blood to let her poison make her one of them.

A weak groan left the chapped pink lips of the girl, along with the sparkle of life from her eyes. It took two minutes for her to lose her consciousness. Last thing she felt was the cold metal slicing through the holes Edena left on her now equally cold skin. Then the world went dark. She would open her eyes again; she would see the light. But even with her eyes open, from that moment on, she knew that her world would remain dark.