kyeugh
onion witch
- Pronoun
- she/her
Here's a re-write of something I wrote many moons ago. I hope you will enjoy it.
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A woman hugged her husband tight. All the warmth had left his body, and he was pale and clammy, but the notion of him cradling her kept her from giving in to unconsciousness immediately. His bold, deep voice had comforted her greatly in the years before, and now those reassuring words were gone forever. Tears ran down her cheeks, dropping onto the man’s shoulder. She expected a broad, calming hand to brush her back and tell her it was okay. It didn’t.
She drew the man away from herself and stared with glossy eyes at his forehead. In the center was a hole about the size of a quarter. It was tinted red on the edges, and a brass cone was embedded in the chasm. She lay the man down at last and turned to the other person in the room.
“You’re vicious,” she spat. “You truly are a heartless, emotionless monster.” The man shrugged. “Your words place no impact on me,” he replied. “In fact, I depict it as a compliment. Being heartless and emotionless is perhaps one of the most valuable aids in my business. That pesky little thing called morality doesn’t bother you in the slightest.” The woman closed her cerulean eyes as if the man would disappear with her vision, and shook her head, making her curly blond locks swing. “I don’t understand your motives, Aachi. I don’t.” The man grinned. His teeth were long and stained. He had a pale face with lifeless brown eyes and flat black hair. He was extremely lanky, with an extremely thin build and long limbs.
“To be truthful, I wouldn’t understand them in your place either,” he admitted. “Even with my intellect which exceeds that of most other people, it is difficult to comprehend such things unless you are experiencing them yourself. So many possible points of view for each individual situation- but to know the correct one, you must follow the one the situation favors. You perceive me as evil- in my perspective, you are evil. You are trying to stop me, who is pursuing a good cause. Therefore you are evil.”
The woman shook her head again. “That sharp tongue- you use it well, Aachi. If only what it said made any remote amount of sense.” Quickly, Aachi whipped out the gun that killed the woman’s husband and shot the ground next to her, sending shards of tile into the air. “Silence, fool!” he screamed. “I did not come here to preach you a sermon, but rather to inherit your children. Make no struggle, and you will leave here alive.”
The woman stared into Aachi’s eyes.. “So you want my children,” she echoed. Aachi nodded. “Yes,” he confirmed. “I assumed that was obvious. Perhaps not.” Of course, it was obvious- she was not repeating it because she did not understand. “Well, I know that you do not wish to inherit the child itself, but you covet something about it, perhaps a powerful quality. In conclusion...,” she stated. “My children must not be normal; otherwise you would have picked another set so as not to harm people you knew personally.”
Aachi clapped his hands. “A round of applause for you, Miss Harper. Perhaps you are not the fool I took you for,” he declared. It was at that moment that it occurred to the woman- her husband was dead, and sobbing about it would help nothing. With the situation at hand, she could not waste time grieving over the inevitable, but rather make vengeance so he did not die in vain. Therefore, to fully see every possible outcome of the happening, she had to see through the perspective that the situation favored.
“Well, I suppose I mustn’t struggle,” she decided. “Take my children. Both of them.” Aachi looked taken aback. “You cannot be serious,” he stated. “A person with any integrity at all would surely defend their family- natural instinct! Nevertheless, you have overseen instinct, and instead applied common sense. I sense illusion.”
Without warning, Harper let out an ear-piercing scream. She held the pitch for an unbelievable amount of time, and took in another breath, only to start the process again!
Aachi covered his ears and fired at the seemingly guilty woman, ready to end the conflict. They all missed somehow, except one that grazed her shoulder. There was a banging on the door then, which quite basically proved Harper’s plan to be sufficient. Not waiting for anyone to answer it, a muscular man knocked the door down, holding a polished Winchester in his hands. Aachi hardly had time to witness the event before the gun was already set and fired, right through Aachi’s chest. He fell to the ground, his dark clothes soaked in blood, but not killed. Weakly, he climbed the stairs, his cape flying up behind him. He bound back down them holding two infants, one in each arm, both with white-blond hair.
The muscular man shot again, hitting the man’s left shoulder and causing him to drop one of the babies in reaction. He flicked his cape so that it covered his entire body, and the article of clothing drifted to the ground, attached to no body.
The muscular man was panting quickly, but he seemed to be quite all right. There was not much physical pain undergone by him, take the slight kick of the Winchester. There was a silence for a while, where the two of them stood there, unsure just what to say. Harper spoke up: “One baby remains. I cannot raise him myself, but you seem quite capable. Do this scarred woman a favor and watch him for me, keep him out of trouble, train him to be a hero. It is my only wish.” There were no words after that. The man picked up the baby and left with that note.
==============================================
A woman hugged her husband tight. All the warmth had left his body, and he was pale and clammy, but the notion of him cradling her kept her from giving in to unconsciousness immediately. His bold, deep voice had comforted her greatly in the years before, and now those reassuring words were gone forever. Tears ran down her cheeks, dropping onto the man’s shoulder. She expected a broad, calming hand to brush her back and tell her it was okay. It didn’t.
She drew the man away from herself and stared with glossy eyes at his forehead. In the center was a hole about the size of a quarter. It was tinted red on the edges, and a brass cone was embedded in the chasm. She lay the man down at last and turned to the other person in the room.
“You’re vicious,” she spat. “You truly are a heartless, emotionless monster.” The man shrugged. “Your words place no impact on me,” he replied. “In fact, I depict it as a compliment. Being heartless and emotionless is perhaps one of the most valuable aids in my business. That pesky little thing called morality doesn’t bother you in the slightest.” The woman closed her cerulean eyes as if the man would disappear with her vision, and shook her head, making her curly blond locks swing. “I don’t understand your motives, Aachi. I don’t.” The man grinned. His teeth were long and stained. He had a pale face with lifeless brown eyes and flat black hair. He was extremely lanky, with an extremely thin build and long limbs.
“To be truthful, I wouldn’t understand them in your place either,” he admitted. “Even with my intellect which exceeds that of most other people, it is difficult to comprehend such things unless you are experiencing them yourself. So many possible points of view for each individual situation- but to know the correct one, you must follow the one the situation favors. You perceive me as evil- in my perspective, you are evil. You are trying to stop me, who is pursuing a good cause. Therefore you are evil.”
The woman shook her head again. “That sharp tongue- you use it well, Aachi. If only what it said made any remote amount of sense.” Quickly, Aachi whipped out the gun that killed the woman’s husband and shot the ground next to her, sending shards of tile into the air. “Silence, fool!” he screamed. “I did not come here to preach you a sermon, but rather to inherit your children. Make no struggle, and you will leave here alive.”
The woman stared into Aachi’s eyes.. “So you want my children,” she echoed. Aachi nodded. “Yes,” he confirmed. “I assumed that was obvious. Perhaps not.” Of course, it was obvious- she was not repeating it because she did not understand. “Well, I know that you do not wish to inherit the child itself, but you covet something about it, perhaps a powerful quality. In conclusion...,” she stated. “My children must not be normal; otherwise you would have picked another set so as not to harm people you knew personally.”
Aachi clapped his hands. “A round of applause for you, Miss Harper. Perhaps you are not the fool I took you for,” he declared. It was at that moment that it occurred to the woman- her husband was dead, and sobbing about it would help nothing. With the situation at hand, she could not waste time grieving over the inevitable, but rather make vengeance so he did not die in vain. Therefore, to fully see every possible outcome of the happening, she had to see through the perspective that the situation favored.
“Well, I suppose I mustn’t struggle,” she decided. “Take my children. Both of them.” Aachi looked taken aback. “You cannot be serious,” he stated. “A person with any integrity at all would surely defend their family- natural instinct! Nevertheless, you have overseen instinct, and instead applied common sense. I sense illusion.”
Without warning, Harper let out an ear-piercing scream. She held the pitch for an unbelievable amount of time, and took in another breath, only to start the process again!
Aachi covered his ears and fired at the seemingly guilty woman, ready to end the conflict. They all missed somehow, except one that grazed her shoulder. There was a banging on the door then, which quite basically proved Harper’s plan to be sufficient. Not waiting for anyone to answer it, a muscular man knocked the door down, holding a polished Winchester in his hands. Aachi hardly had time to witness the event before the gun was already set and fired, right through Aachi’s chest. He fell to the ground, his dark clothes soaked in blood, but not killed. Weakly, he climbed the stairs, his cape flying up behind him. He bound back down them holding two infants, one in each arm, both with white-blond hair.
The muscular man shot again, hitting the man’s left shoulder and causing him to drop one of the babies in reaction. He flicked his cape so that it covered his entire body, and the article of clothing drifted to the ground, attached to no body.
The muscular man was panting quickly, but he seemed to be quite all right. There was not much physical pain undergone by him, take the slight kick of the Winchester. There was a silence for a while, where the two of them stood there, unsure just what to say. Harper spoke up: “One baby remains. I cannot raise him myself, but you seem quite capable. Do this scarred woman a favor and watch him for me, keep him out of trouble, train him to be a hero. It is my only wish.” There were no words after that. The man picked up the baby and left with that note.