***
It rained heavily as she trudged her way through the mud, dragging a heavy body behind her.
After what seemed like eternity, she had finally made it to the old hag's hut. She banged on the door hastily. The woman barely felt the rain that had drenched her. A numb feeling settled over her body. She still felt the torturous pain in her gut but forced it down in order to do what was needed. The door in front of her opened ajar by just a few inches. Peering from the inside was an old woman, who was wrinkled and grey. She had missing teeth and sharp pointed nails, just like the woman in front of her had. Upon seeing her arrival, it was almost as if the old hag had been expecting her. The door was then opened wide, without an invitation, the young woman dragged herself and the heavy body into the house. For a while, the woman just stood there. Around the room she was in, she spotted the familiar jars that contained liquid and dead animals in it. The room was filled with a variety of herbs and candles that were lit. Many books lay scattered everywhere. It was as if nothing had changed from when she had left. After all, the old hag was her grandmother.
"You have foretellings of the future. Why is it... that you could not have told me what was to happen? I could have been there for them. Do you simply not care? Not even for your great-granddaughter," the young woman harshly whispered, staring down the hag in front of her.
A look of sadness past the old hag's eye but she masked it with a sneer. "I see what is to happen in the present. I took no pleasure in witnessing it nor could I have done anything to interfere with their fate," the old hag replied and then gave a toothless grin when she spotted the yellow cloak held and then the man on the floor.
"He's the bastard, isn't he? The one who—" The hag was cut off by the woman.
"I need your knives; the ones you use for taking care of the animals you hunt. I also want an apron," there was an eerie tone in her voice when she requested it. Joy came into the oldhag's eyes; she began to limp to collect the items needed for the woman.
"I want the Devil's ivy too."
The hag froze, then glanced at the woman and gave her a wicked grin. The woman began to untie the man. With a sturdy hand she readjusted where the rope should hold him in place. After what seemed to be a few minutes, the old hag had everything gathered as requested by the woman. The man hung from the ceiling with the rope tied to his wrists and body hoisted up. His toes were able to touch the ground by a fraction. The woman gave him a sharp slap to the face. Her nails slicing against his skin in the process, ripping out more flesh. The man jerked awake in surprise and gave a deep shout.
"How many of you were there?" she asked coldly, the old hag watched her grand-daughter in amusement.
"Fuck y—" The man was cut short by another slap. He spat blood and his eyes darted in the room, unfocused, pulling on his restraints. She began to lay knives neatly against the wooden table. Recalling what her husband had taught her, how to use these knives for a particular task. Her heart lurched and tightened from the thought of her husband, she held these feelings in. The love of her life was gone. She turned towards the man again who seemed to have grown panicked by seeing the array of knives set out. He knew the woman planned to torture him.
"There were five of us. Five," he let out.
"How many of you touched the little girl?" this time, the old hag asked.
The man began to cry. "Only two, including... including myself." He began to relieve himself, fear washing over him as if he were being drowned.
The woman ground her teeth.
My little Dove... Did she scream? Did she beg? Did she cry out for me when she took her last breath?The young woman thought to herself. Filled with so many painful questions. The woman was going to make the man scream, beg and call out for help. He would suffer.
The man answered all her interrogations while he begged for his life, he gave the names of the men, their ranks, and their current whereabouts.
"And lastly. Did you know how old she was?" Of course, the last question didn’t matter, because anyone with vision would see how little the child was, the men were simply monsters. Yet the woman needed to ask.
"I don't know the age... she looked nine," the man quickly spoke.
"She was six years old," the woman spoke darkly. With a step forward, she gripped the man's mouth and shoved the devil's ivy into his mouth, right down his windpipe. The man gagged and swallowed, moaning in discomfort.
"Please don't poison me, take it out. I don't want to die!" He began to wail.
The woman silently strode towards the table and picked up a sharp thin knife, the one her husband would have chosen. The old hag began to laugh in a fit.
"Devil's ivy ain't gonna kill ya. It’s gonna keep ya awake, you bafoon. No matter what happens to you, you'll stay awake because of the adrenaline and won't lose consciousness!" The old hag laughed with more fever.
"W-what?" the man asked in confusion, immediately feeling the effects of it. His blood pumping faster. The young woman walked towards him menacingly.
"It was one of the first things my husband taught me. To skin animals. Rabbits, deer, chicken, sheep, and sometimes even wolves. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not perfect at it, but myhusband was. This would have been his first though, just like it is mine. To skin a human. But it's sad to say it won't be my last," she said with no emotion. The old hag helped the woman tie on her apron while the man sobbed in grief and terror. He could not help his screams now.
"Yes! SCREAM! Scream like how they did, beg. Do it," the woman yelled and with a snap in her mind, she hid all emotion, made herself silent, and got to work. It took hours to skin the man. He no longer screamed. He begged them at first to kill him, to just end his life. The effects of the devil's ivy were evident, he was still alive and awake. Bleeding out yes, but he was silent, his voice gone raw from screaming. His skin had been piled up in front of him. The man's eyes looked bulged without his eyelids and the man's teeth looked protruding without his lips. The man wasn't even a man anymore, he was all red oozing blood, sinew and flesh.
"It was a masterpiece behind skin."She deliriously thought.
"Will you hunt the rest?" the hag asked finally, swiping over the speck of blood that spilled onto the table with a wrinkly finger, then licking it. The young woman simply gave a nod. "Fate is a wicked thing, so follow it," the hag advised. This angered her as she took the yellow cloak that once belonged to the man who gurgled and bled to death, enduring a suffered end.
She adorned the cloak and vowed to avenge her family, wearing it. She blamed them all, every single one of them. She had a kingdom to kill. She would make the soldiers and royals beg for their pitiful lives.
"I'm proud of you, Sephera, you've finally grown." She ignored the hag.
