Witching Hour

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Sunday- day day day! It’s always days. Remember when weeks could pass? Months forgotten? It was surprising that it wasn’t down to hours, but give it time! It will surely hit that. All was the bloody same down in that box aside the plotting of numbers –which, if but a single cell phone was removed, would, also, be forgotten.

But it was Sunday- WAS. Sunday. It was lost to another whirlwind of “familial” ignorance –a family in prison; doesn’t that just sound lovely. Samantha accepted the role of mother so easily now that she had her baby daddy. At least now she had Minos by her side... and in her at night. The stress over the last week faded away to a dull throb at the back of her mind, soothed away with each thrust as she lulled off to sleep holding Sehmi –if only all of us were so lucky. In fact, the way the girl slept in her embrace, how she... trusted Samantha, how she knew that she was perfectly safe with her -and even Minos- around reminded her a touch of... well... her. At a far younger age, but-

Samantha shook her head, and winced. Both with how her chin rubbed into the lass’s cheek and and how Minos behind. He nibbled on her folds, still leaking, drooling with his love. She reached over Sehmi and checked her phone, finding it almost 6.

“Well, that’s just great,” she muttered, and only managed to close her lips in time to stop a yowl from escaping. She rolled over to face Minos, pretending to whistle, looking away from her. “That was a bit too hard, you know? It’s as sensitive as an eyeball; how would you like if it I jam my-”

He kissed her, stilling her rant –again, if only all of us were so lucky. She melted into his embrace, rolling on top of him- but he made sure the cover was properly over them. It was her folds below, though, that hid what they were truly doing.

Sehmi stirred. She grumbled, mumbled as she yawned, and sat up, looking back at them.

“Morning, Sehmi,” Samantha said, smiling at her. “Did you sleep well?”

“Uh-huh,” she mumbled, yawning again, wiping her eyes. “Why are you guys huching without me? I lite cuddling, Mistress.”

“Oh, I know, baby. I know. We’ll cuddle more tonight, okay?”

“Otay... I’m choing to cho tate a shower then start breatfast.”


“If you wait for us to take a shower, we’ll be able to salvage your cooking,” Minos said, winking at her.

Sehmi huffed, pouting. “If you mate it, I won’t eat it... Poisoned.”

“Well, I’m not planning to mate with it, so there’s no worry about that.”

She growled, a playful thing, and stood, tamping her foot.

“You’re a jert, you know that.”

“No, I don’t. What’s a jert? Is that like a jet? Are you saying I’m fly?”

“No! You are a jert. A meanie.”

“So... I’m a lean jet?”

She scoffed, and wheeled around. “I’m not talting to you anymore.”

“I don’t know what that is, but I’m glad for whatever it may be.”

Sehmi didn’t give another answer, simply storming off to the bathroom.

Minos chortled, giving Samantha’s rear a nice smack, thrusting into her at last. “Sweet kid. A little hot-headed. Takes after you.”

“R-really? M... ah... me?” Samantha said, and reached back, gripping his manhood. Hard. She rode against, squelching up a storm as her folds simply consumed him. Though they were still burdened so much from their previous rounds, they would not give up this chance. They had been starved for weeks- weeks WEEKS! She thinks it’s a big deal for weeks; maybe she should try a century, five at that. Maybe then she would know true annoyance.... but those two- her? She wasn’t backing down. “I think she t... oh g... takes more after you.”

He chortled, winced as he buried his face into her chest, lapping and sucking at those aching tips. She moaned, with such wild abandon, hearing the water run in the bathroom. She lapped at his horns, sucking on those rigid ends, knowing all too well another tip was lavishing it more.

“More,” she begged, breathless. “Give me m-”

There was a knock at the door.

Samantha... weighed the options. She bounced with them, swinging with the scales in her mind, edging ever closer to simply staying on him and enjoying the teetering he was causing... but, sadly, the water stopped in the restroom. Samantha hopped off him as quick as she could, a swathe of blue left in her wake, cleaning up their mess, as she donned a bright, blue dress. It had soft, white cusps by her neck and shoulder, while the bottom near her knees simply wafted, as if the ocean, itself, splashed against her dark, flushed skin.

She opened the door to the entry at the same time Sehmi opened the door to the bathroom, both seeing that it was Norman on the other side.

“Hey,” he said, blushing. Sehmi was naked, steaming from the water that still crackled on her dark blue scales. “I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

“Of course not, Norman,” Samantha said, stepping out of the room. He looked a little down, though his smile and eyes were warm. “Is something wrong?”

“N... no... Well... No. Nothing is wrong. I simply came by to say goodbye. Lilith was already by. She told Ayn whom she was looking for; she’s simply waiting for me t-”

“You didn’t really think I wasn’t coming to say goodbye, did you?” Ayn exclaimed, making Norman jump. She giggled, actually giggled, as she wrapped an arm around him, and was even beaming at Samantha. “I wasn’t going to leave without telling little sis goodbye.”

“Little... sis?” Samantha uttered, and it sounded like the one last braincell in that dome finally gave up.

“Eh. Seems to be the theme right now. Family, kids, and shit. Youse basically my little sister. Always looked up to me when here, even though we did fight.”

“I’m afraid to say I will never see you as a sister... but I will see you as a friend.”

“Damn right.” They chuckled- but Ayn hugged her, groaning, popping even the dead cells up in Samantha’s head. “Who knew I’d be the first of us outta here, though. All those months ago, Christmas, I was saying I couldn’t be ready to be rid of yo black behind, and yet now it’s my fine ass that’s going out in day light.”

“Don’t get used to it. You don’t know how your ‘true love’ is going to be.”

“Don’t remind me. From what Lilith said, he’s a dweeb. Sits at home, works on the computer, makes sick fantasies all the time... I’m gonna have to make a real man out of him before he puts a baby in my tummy.”

“So you know his name?”

“Tom or Jordon or James or Adrian or something- I don’t know. Cracka has, like, three of the whitest names you can think of as his whole name.”

“A white guy? You sure you okay with that?”

“Nigga, I don’t judge by skin. I judge by if he’s a nigga or not. As long as he treats me right, he could be blue and I wouldn’t give a fuck.”

“Well, you would be giving plenty of fucks. Just not the kind of fucks you’re talking about.

“And there you go being a smartass again... I’m gonna miss you, cuz.”

“Just don’t name the baby after me.”

“Hell fucking no... I’m naming it after Norman.”

“Oh, shucks, Ayn,” Norman said, rubbing his cheeks.

“The second child, of course. The first is already reserved... Take care, Sam. Stay alive.”

“Can’t make any promises.”

“You better, nigga, or I’ll come down here and kill you, myself.”

“Well then I’ll do my best.”

Ayn sniffled- was she grimacing when she let go? She stormed down the stairs, disappearing around the corner, but that didn’t muffle her sob, echoing back

Norman kissed Samantha’s cheek, misty-eyed himself, and followed after, leaving her there to listen after, fighting her own tears. The door shuddered shut, taking with it their steps at last, and Samantha finally allowed her face to be streaked by those hot streams, letting them fall, unhindered, onto the grate and through onto the floor below.

“Well,” she uttered, sniffling as well. “Today’s looking to be bittersweet.”

“You kidding? This is great!” Minos said. “So glad Norman got out. He’s been a real bro this entire time.”

“What do you mean by... you know what? I don’t care. I agree. He’s... he has earned it... Sehmi, go continue your shower.”

“Otay,” the sleep mer said, and the bathroom door slid shut... Samantha sighed.

“Sneaky of Lilith, though,” she said. “She told me she wouldn’t come down until tomorrow... Guess love finds a way.”

“Yes. Isn’t that precious?” A voice, a very French voice, said. Samantha’s heart froze in her chest. Her neck cracked, fighting her so much to not turn to the left, but it was carried on by morbid curiosity and terror, seeing a pair of bright green eyes. They faded a moment, hidden behind incredibly fair lids, matching the rest of the Fang’s complexion on that soft, heart-shaped face. The left half of her head was shaved clean, polished to a shine, while the right side was covered in long, braided hair. Each braid was a different color, lazing in the air, clashing and resting on her shoulder, covered in soft brown freckles. The rest of her was hidden underneath a skin-tight red dress, no seam, no crease, no opening to be seen save for at those shoulders and her neck, while her feet had a pair of long, silver stilettos belted on. Each of her toes was painted a different color, while her fingers and most of her arms were hidden in long, black gloves. That didn’t stop her fingers from being tipped in silver, ten, sharp points of metal, glittering in the dim light. Her ears had small, golden bells on them, ringing, almost merrily, but Samantha could only feel fear, looking upon the Fang, the Matriarch, Lucille. At last.

Lucille tittered, and slowly opened her eyes again. Samantha tried to look away, but it was too late. Those emeralds robbed the light around, making that warm laughter cold and bound and crash through her skull. Nails raked along it, screeching at her ears, while the hand they belonged to simply caressed her cheek and chin.

And throat.

She heard it, felt the world spark only to fade away, for her to feel nothing time and again, dozens, hundreds of times over. And that was the tamest, the easiest of deaths that came to her in a flood. Others were far more despicable, far slower, resonating, turning her stomach. Those greens, seemingly lost in an ocean of darkness and death and despair, faded again as Lucille closed her eyes.

She sighed, and let go of Samantha’s neck, patting her cheek.

“Well, well. I wondered why it went silent, but it really didn’t,” she said, cooing, and pecked Samantha’s cheek. “I thought we could be friends, deary, but you chose to be a thorn in my side. You chose to lock away your thoughts, to keep secrets. To conspire against me... You had to make Peter do the unthinkable.”

“Lucille,” Samantha managed to say. “I can assure you, I w-”

“You were against it, vocally. That’s what you decried, but we both know that’s not what you actually felt. No... you wanted the chaos. You wanted to give Lilith a hard time –a noble cause, but one that also stepped on my toes.”

She huffed, and opened her eyes again, looking beyond Samantha, thankfully-

No. Not thankfully.

“I truly don’t want to dirty my hands with your blood.” She stated, and her green eyes flashed black. Minos grunted. He winced, panted as he grumbled and cursed, but that didn’t stop the bed from groaning, from his hooves taking heavy, languid steps towards her. “Besides, I have a far more fitting punishment. You ruined my relationship, so why not yours?”

“S-Sam,” Minos managed to say, panting hard. “R... run. Run!”

Lucille simply tittered, keeping her focus on Minos, but she waved at the stairs nonchalantly.

“Yes. Do run. I love a good show. Make it interesting enough, and I may delay Lisa’s death.”

“You... you bitch!” Samantha shrieked, and the wall behind Lucille snapped out. Two, long lines of steel rose, scissoring towards her, and closed on her neck.

Lucille, however, already moved.

She sat on the rail behind Samantha, munching on popcorn, her gaze still locked on Minos. He stopped, dead-center in the room, and started stamping his right hoof. It scraped on the metal, sending sparks as his other ground against, muscles tensing.

“You should get down the stairs,” Lucille suggested. “Ever seen what a bull can do when it charges?”

Samantha had no choice. She had to take her advice, had to listen, had to allow Lucille to manipulate her. Minos’ bellow roared after, and the Hall thundered with his steps. Samantha only made it down two when Minos already caught up to her, metal bursting, sparking from her shoulder and neck, scraping at his horns as he continued his onslaught.

All the way to the other end of the hall.

The wall thundered, shrieked as it bent around his form, and he pulled himself out. Tears rolled down his cheeks, his eyes black as pitch, looking upon the crumpled metal before him. Lucille simply groaned.

“Well, that was dull. I expected some form of fight out of her,” she grumbled, taking a bite of popc-

Her bag fell, so daintily to the ground as she rolled, vanished, and appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Catching it.

Samantha stood, panting as she pulled her foot out of the wall, glaring as Lucille clapped and giggled.

“Superb! Superb! Magnifico,” she said, hopping in place. “It’s been a while since I needed to move that fast.”

“I won’t fight Minos, you whore,” Samantha said, the walls around groaning, rippling. The dragon on her arm ascended, and latched to the ceiling, watching it all with great ire. “Fight me, fairly.”

She huffed again, shaking her head. “‘Fairly’? What part of masking your thoughts was fair? What part of conspiring with my beloved to marry and impregnate another woman was fair? Fucking hypocrite.”

Minos had turned around, and the halls once more rumbled with his charge. Samantha looked back in her room; Sehmi was standing there, at the shower door, clenching at it with dear life.

“Stay here,” Samantha boomed, and shut the door and leaped down from the landing, before the classroom, and crossed her arms, preparing another metal w-

The world flashed, and Samantha was in the wall under the stairs.

Lucille clucked her tongue, waggled her finger, and looked Samantha in the eyes, darkness swallowing her vision once more.

“Now that’s just boring, doing the same thing over and over,” Lucille said. “I don’t think you should use your magic during a domestic dispute, no?”

The world seemed to boom in Samantha’s ears. The walls, the Hall no longer rumbled, no longer rippled with her magic. Her dragon shrieked, swooping down at Lucille –caught by the neck. She tossed the bag of popcorn up again, floating as the dragon tried to claw at her, kept at an arm’s length before going... limp. She slapped it back onto Samantha’s arm, and it wrapped around it again, dead to the world, before catching the popcorn once more.

Lucille let her go, took a few steps back, and waved at her. She closed her fingers, half-way to her palm, circling towards her-

Forgotten as Minos finally caught up.

He grabbed her by the neck, and rammed her through the classroom doors. Her table, her podium were slammed aside; she looked back, seeing the wall quickly approaching.

“Sam,” Minos barked, and for a moment his thumb had weakened, had trembled.

Giving her time to bend it away.

Minos cried out as it snapped, crunching more as he hit the wall with his outstretched hand, but Samantha slipped out. She scrambled for the first desk- then second, each tossed aside as Minos kept hot on her tail, trying to make it back to the door. Lucille stood in front of her, still enjoying her popcorn, bouncing on her heels at the carnage before her.

“I cannot lie, though. You had a good plan,” she said, giggling as Minos finally caught Samantha again. Blood seeped around his nails, digging into her leg, raining after as he tossed her into the whiteboard, shattering it. The pieces toppled on her, making it that much harder for her to stand. “Infuriate me so that I wouldn’t be able to do something like... well, this. It was clever... Sadly, I’ve come to terms with my anger a long time ago. I don’t get mad, Sam. No... Only children get mad. I get even.”

For a moment there, she sounded Creole or Jamaican, Samantha had time to make note of before Minos pulled her out of the rubble, tossing her through the room. She hit the projector, shattering it, but it stopped her flight, dropping her on a desk. She rolled off it- just in time for Minos to elbow-drop it, burying it and himself into the ground. Samantha jumped over a desk, limping towards the door again-

And was struck with an idea.

“Oh! So you know Peter will never love you,” Samantha said, tittering, leaning on the wall beside her. Though it was only a fraction of a second, most likely her imagination... she saw Lucille’s brow twitch. “You came to terms with the fact that he will always want another woman over you. Maybe even men.”

Lucille... huffed, chuckling. “That is not what I said. I stated I made peace with my anger. I don’t let it control my actions. It’s about action rather than reaction, my dear... If you do not understand, that is okay. It takes decades. Which you don’t really have.”

Samantha yelped as Minos grabbed her by the middle. He crushed her against the wall, slammed her thrice before wheeling around and chucking her against the back of the room. The breath was knocked out of her. Her ribs ached, blood trickled from... everywhere at that point, but mostly from where he had gripped... She still managed to find, and keep, her footing, though. She coughed, hacked, but limped to the left, avoiding Minos’s charge, once more chortling.

“Oh, but that is your anger, isn’t it? That’s the root of it. You know, deep down, the man you love with all of your heart... will never... ever... EVER really love you. He will always flock to another girl, always want another heart... And you, Lucille? You spent most of your life as a whore. You’ve seen men -probably women too- cum then go without a single care for them. You must have had thousands of men, dozens of women fall for you, but you know your heart wanted him. He was the one that wanted nothing to do with you in the first place, and, even now, a millennium later, he still wants none of that... So you torture him and play with him like some form of sick roleplay because, at the end of the day, you aren’t getting fucked so you might as well fuck him over. You don’t really love him, Lucille. You just want him to admit he wants you, so then you can move on to the next unlucky fellow your cunt wets over.”

Minos pulled himself out of the wall at last, panting hard, and lumbered over to Samantha. He grabbed her by the throat, raising her, crushing her windpipe. Foam frothed from the sides of her lips, too tired to fight back. But, even if she were to die now, Lucille would never recover from that burn.

So what did the Matriach do? She held up her hand. She walked over to Minos, eased his arm down, goaded him to open his hand and let Samantha go... then back-handed him. The room thundered, like a shotgun was blasted in it, and Minos flew off towards the back of the room, where he crashed and was embedded in the metal.

Lucille slowly turned to Samantha, giving her a small smile, but the dragon on the witch’s hand hissed. And tried to cower its head under its wing, to get away from the true fire behind those green eyes.

“Such spirit... I truly wished we could have been friends,” the Fang said, and tossed her popcorn bag aside. Then once more the world faded to light.

And thunder.

Samantha’s head ached against the wall at the end of the hall, but it was only processing the first five, dented in again and again and again and again and again and again! Samantha’s hand was already covered, completely silvered as the world hissed by her, and a soft shell formed against the entrance, slowing her. Lucille was nowhere near done, bringing new blood from her lips as her fists cracked against Samantha’s ribs, breaking them at last and turning them into mulch, barely healing in time for the next punch to land.

Lucille allowed her to drop to the ground, and her toes raked across the witch’s cheek. Her sole cracked against the bottom of her head. Almost at the same time. Samantha looked up at last, wheezing, but Lucille was already gone. She tried to stand, fighting, shaking so hard against her arms, both locked in place up to her shoulders-

Only to cry out, stomped back down.

She was flipped on her back, and Lucille stood on her. Her eyes were as black as night, twinkling as she knelt and rubbed Samantha’s chin. Her true teeth squelched as blood seeped from her lips, showing those twisted, mangled rows.

“My, my. This is absolutely exhilarating. It’s been a long time since I’ve encountered a witch this powerful,” Lucille mused. She crouched over her, digging her soles deeper into Samantha’s chest. Her toes kneaded, drummed as her stilettos pricked at the squishy bits just under. Pushed ever deeper “Most nowadays are those pathetic empaths or evokers... but you? You sacrifice. You give up so you can use, and not something frivolous as hair or control. No... You give up life. Truly poetic, to use that which most hold above all others to bring about death, destruction, and yet creation as well. I knew many like you... and you all die the same.”

She snarled, and blood squelched as her nails bit into Samantha’s neck- or tried. They were kept at bay by a scarf of metal, flowing from the floor. It was torn to ribbons again and again as she cackled, as she watched the silver creep down her legs, take over her middle, ever encroaching, closing on her mouth. No matter how powerful she had become, she couldn’t stop this onslaught of pure fury and speed.

Lucille’s nails sparked at her neck, tearing through the silver enough to watch it wash her esophagus, glowing through the skin, and watched her struggle to breathe, each inhale agony, pure Hell. Lucille caressed Samantha’s face, gasping, drooling, tearing up as she watched her hand raise one last time-

Black fire flooded the hall.

It was kept a breath above Samantha, but Lucille was hit by the full wave. She shrieked, howled as she clawed at her red dress, melting onto her before she faded away, and the world was lost to Samantha save for her gasps and that roaring sea, muffled. Her heart beat against her ears so hard, threading, thrumming and racing against her mind. Her vision was fading, starved of, well, life... but she still saw those emeralds, fading to blues, shining in that swirling miasma. Tears brimmed in her eyes as they rained upon her cheeks; Sehmi was knelt over, holding her head.

“Mistress,” she croaked, repeating... but her eyes burned green again. Her brow, her shoulders burst into blue flame once more, and her tail whipped around, tearing at the metal. Sadly, it wasn’t quick enough, the world still fading as Samantha gasped for breath... but Sehmi leaned closer. The fire on her was so hot, but her breath was hotter. Green flames roiled and frothed... then rolled from her maw into Samantha’s mouth, melting, clearing the way to her lungs.

“S-Sehmi,” Samantha hissed, gasping, repeating as she caught her breath. As the world returned to normal... She smiled at the “mer”, tears in both of their eyes... but she shook her head. “You need to go. Now. Get back to the room.”


“You have to! She’ll kill you.”

“I’m not leaving Mistress. You need me.”

“I do need you, but not to fight. I need you to live, Sehmi. Please... listen to your mother.”


Samantha gulped, and laughed a touch as her hand was freed enough to reach up and touch the girl’s cheek, caressing it.

“I know. I’m surprised I accepted it, too... Please, Sehmi. Run! I can take it from here.”


She bolted to her feet, and started down the hall.

Crying out as Lucille appeared again.

She held her by the neck, her body untouched by any cloth but back to its normal, pristine self. Her large, pert breasts jiggled, their cherry tips perked, enjoying the fresh air. What hair she had left was charred black, smoking and crumbling away –yet no smoke rolled from below.

Fresh fire leaped from Sehmi’s shoulders, black fire spraying from her mouth, scorching the ceiling. But Lucille held true, clucking her tongue as she carried her back over Samantha.

“Where did this ugly thing come from?” She said, cooing as she traced the mer’s chest with one of her fingers. Grinding against it. “Did she call you mother?”

“N-no! She’s just another person down here,” Samantha said.

“I could have sworn I heard her call you mother. Even you started a family... How... gauche.”

“She’s not my daughter! Let her go. She’s innocent in all this.”

“I wouldn’t say that... She ruined my hair. It took me so long to get it just right. Then there was the whole flambe incident. That was just plain rude... Even if she weren’t your daughter, I wouldn’t be doing this.”

“What? N-”

Sehmi wheezed, her eyes wide. Glassing. She shuddered, twitched in Lucille’s grip... dropped on top of Samantha. She recoiled, heart skipping... dying, looking down into Sehmi’s eyes, already dimmed. Tears burned at her eyes as she looked down at the poor girl;s chest, what should be inside now out... and crushed. Samantha held the poor girl to her chest, her other hand on that hole. Green energy pulsed, thickening so much... but, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t fix that heart. She couldn’t make a new heart. For either of them.

Sehmi tried to mouth something, the fog rolling in, claiming the last spark in those eyes, but Samantha shushed her, hugging her tigher.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” she whispered, fighting her sobs so much as she covered her neck and face in kisses. “Just go. You don’t need to suffer. Y... please... I love you. I will always love you.”

“I... l... lo... mom,” she said, and croaked one last time, slumping against Samantha.

Samantha nuzzled her neck, the blood that spilled cold as the tears rained down her cheeks. The green energy faded away on the winds, rising in the box, turned to shrieking gales as Lucille clicked her tongue.

“What a nuisance.” Lucille stated. “We were having such a lovely conversation.”

Samantha mumbled something. The dragon rose from her arm... Fleeing into her room. She repeated it, but it was lost to the thunder, the lightning that shattered the metal walls. Their boom rumbled even further, making the metal ripple again, shaking the halls if not the Academy to its core.

Lucille cupped her ear, leaning down to her.

“Hmm? What was that? Couldn’t quite hear you.”

“She was my daughter!” Samantha shrieked. The lights exploded, shards still glowing as they swirled. The metal growled, screeching as it was torn apart by the wind, stealing away Samantha’s lower half as she faded into it. Lightning flashed in it, coursing through those gales, closing, condensing on a pair of bright yellows, boring down on Lucille as water filled the hall. It flooded in torrents, freezing wherever the wind touched.

“W-what is this? Where did this come from?” She exclaimed, coughing, and winced as blood ran down her lips, from every pore as her innards were liquefied in the maelstrom. Her body flickered, locked in different runs, sprints, pounces, all held in place by the ice until only her head was above water, ripped at by the wind again and again.

“Samantha” appeared before the whore, flickering with the lightning, her true self seen at last. That gray form was stretched out, long and wiry. Her fingers were gnarled hooks, curled around Lucille’s head. Her lips, pale as a sheet, rippled in that storm, in that catastrophe.

And then they opened. Wide.

Long, jagged spikes covered every inch, reverberating with the howl that came with it, as if a thousand shrieks of the damned. All other sounds were lost under its ghastly wail. It shattered the metal in its echo, painted, coated in layers upon layers of Lucille’s skin and flesh, of her muscle then bone, turned to dust. “Samantha” did not stop until only her skull remained, crumbling in her hand as the hall emptied. And returned to normal.

The last rivet of water drained under the door, the hall silent... save for Samantha’s sobbing. She hugged Sehmi so tight, shivering, quaking... She didn’t even notice Peter open his door. He yelled in to Lisa before running over, hugging her tight.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” He said, lost to Lisa’s anguished shriek, toppling beside Samantha.

“Sehmi!” She wailed, the strength forcing her to lean on Samantha. “Why?”

“All my fault... It’s all my fault,” Samantha croaked, her voice still so thready. “It’s all my... Lucille.”

“L... Lucille? She was h-” Peter began. “Wait... You killed her?”

She nodded... and chuckled. “You’re free, Peter. You and Lisa both. You have the serum... Go. Go and live your lives.”

“Sam-” Lisa began, and the wind rose again as Samantha pushed her away. Her face faded, showing the... thing from before... returned to her soft, anguished mask.

“I said go! Please... I need some time... some time alone. With my daughter.”

Lisa kissed Samantha’s cheek, sniffling, squeezing her hand so. “She was my sister.”

“And she was my mistress’s kid,” Minos mumbled, sitting beside. He hissed as he rubbed his head. “What hit m-”

The wind howled, pushing them all away from Samantha. From Sehmi. Her legs started to fade again. Water gurgled, threatening to spill from the cracks once more, stopped as Samantha sniffled.

“I said I needed time. Go.”

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