Back when I was locked up, I developed the hobby of writing to keep me sane. I would get the journals and pencils from the commissary, no one wanted them anyways, and I would jot down stories to myself. Nothing elaborate, just something to keep myself busy and distract myself from the life I had been living.

I was going through some of my belongings and I found an old notepad from when I was back in juvenile. I don't remember taking it with me, which is the odd part. But, either way, it inspired me to try writing again. Maybe I would enjoy it out of a cell as much as I did in one. So, I grabbed a blank sheet of paper, a pen, and started writing whatever came to mind.

Well, I didn't get far before Bonnie came barging into my room, making herself comfortable in the corner. Does this woman not have anywhere better to be? She's always conveniently in my bedroom whenever I am. It's annoying, I can't just get one second alone without her being all up in my business. Speaking of which, she examined me for a moment, curious as to what I was up to.

She snatched the paper out of my hand with a smirk on her face. "What's all this, a love letter to your boy crush?"

I quickly retrieved the paper back from her stubby little hands, which caused a slight tear in the corner. "No... I'm just writing a story for fun. Don't you have somewhere better to be?"

She pressed her back up against the wall, folding her arms. "A story?"

"Yeah... what about it?"

"I know a couple of good stories, if you want inspiration."

"Yeah? What do you know about stories? You're some short middle aged woman who won't leave me alone, I'd love to hear it ." I dismissed.

She frowned at the comment. "I'm 20. No need to be so disdainful, I'm just offering."

I thought about it for a second. I guess she is just offering, I might as well try to be respectful. Mom told me to be nice to her, which is starting to become more of a challenge each time she talks to me. But, you know what, I'll listen. I'll be nice.

"Fine, let's hear it then."

⧫ ⧫

"There once lived a small village in the fields named Geestenstad. It was a fairly quiet and simple village that kept to themselves. Hardly any drama or hellfire occurred. There were some small markets and establishments, accompanied by a main church everyone generally attended and cozy houses. The town was so miniscule, you practically knew everybody's name and where their house was in the neighborhood. All was well, as far as everyone knew.

There lived a girl whom they called Lilith, although nobody seemed to know her true name. In every village, there is a quiet and mysterious wanderer who everyone questions. That was her. Although everybody had their own speculations and thoughts about her, they all kept their theories to themselves. It wasn't that they were necessarily afraid of her, rather what she was capable of. Nobody knew what truly lies behind her innocent stature and frame, so nobody dared to test it.

She hardly spoke, and when she did, her voice was chilling and stern. People bantered that she had the face of an angel but the voice of a devil. Her tone was unsettling to the townsfolk, and so nobody approached her. She was deemed unapproachable."

Cynthia perked up with interest. "Was she aware that this was her reputation? I mean, I would hate to be in her position- hated by everyone."

"She was well aware, and she didn't care. She purposely built this persona for herself, and she was okay with it. And, she was not hated by everyone, I never said that. People were skeptical about her and her whereabouts, but no one hated her. At least, not yet.

In this same town of Geestenstad, there also lived the presbytera- the priest's wife. Everyone adored her as much as they did the priest himself, along with their beloved daughter. Charming, mellow, and lavish- that's how they described her. Not a soul despised her... except one. Lilith couldn't stand her, and the wife couldn't stand Lilith either. Lilith saw no good in her. Behind those bright eyes and cheerful smiles, all she could see was bad intentions. She couldn't pinpoint why, but something in her gut told her so. Maybe it was just envy, but she couldn't shake the feelings. She wouldn't dare speak that aloud, everyone would think she was insane for ever assuming her to be such a person. So, like everybody else did, she kept to herself.

One eventful night, the presbytera frantically sprinted to the town square. She cried out to the townspeople with desperation and horror:

Help, anybody, help! My daughter has disappeared without a trace!

She continued to plead and scream at the Towns Square, making sure everyone had heard about the news. Almost immediately, search parties began to try to find the daughter. Fellow townspeople also began to help with the search, looking far and wide to hopefully find the girl.

But, as the days rolled by and nights kept falling, there was no luck. The people started to get doubtful, but the wife and her husband insisted on finding her. While no one wanted to give up, there were only so many places to look. She could have been long gone by now. But, one morning, the townsfolk woke up to a horrifying sight that filled the village with terror.

The daughter was found deceased, hung for display in the Towns Square. Everybody was consumed with grief and panic. Who would commit such a crime? Who could possibly murder a poor and innocent young girl? The presbytera was met with the sight, and she fell to her knees in disbelief. Screaming with anguish and sorrow, she furiously turned to her first suspect. Lilith, who had been watching the events unfold, was put on the spot as the woman pointed to her.

YOU! It was her! Out of everybody here, she was the only person in this town to show zero remorse or a care in the world. She's a witch, a witch I say, exile her at once!

And, without a doubt in mind, everybody collectively agreed that it was her to blame. Lilith retaliated, fuming with rage and her blood boiling.

Oh, cry me a river. You have no evidence of this, and who are you to blame someone who has done nothing to cause harm to you or this village? I am not an angel, but I am NOT a demon either.

The townsfolk did not care. Nothing she said mattered or would make them believe otherwise that she was, indeed, not a murderer. Within seconds, the people striked and pounced on the woman, dragging her across the hard stone. Screams and shouts from different faces scattered across the air:

Evil spirit! Demon! Exile!

Lilith lie on the ground, bleeding profusely from being kicked and dragged. A figure towered over her, staring at her dead in the eyes.

We always knew you were an evil spirit. You have brought a curse among us that cannot be lifted until you are forever gone... you have brought nothing but misfortune and darkness upon Geestenstad! Exile, to hell with you!

Lilith, her eyes wide and bloodshot, sprung up. She examined the scene... children crying and covering their eyes, parents furious, the priest and his wife in agony, and angry townsfolk- all pointed their attention to her. She clenched her fists so hard she thought her fingers might collapse.

Fine then, exile me. Ban me from this town, if you all see me as such an evil being then so be it. You will all see, you'll see soon what a TRUE terror looks like- a true curse. I'll be back.

In an instant, the accused witch that was Lilith vanished from sight. Gone without a trace."

Cynthia looked up at me, slightly confused but still intrigued. "So... that's it?"

I let out a faint laugh and grinned. "No, not at all...

Two years later, a new woman arrived in town. She kept a low profile, and didn't show her face to anybody but her mirror. The townsfolk didn't suspect anything, but boy would they regret not noticing her sooner.

The woman came walking at around midnight one night, while the townsmen and women slept peacefully through the night; oblivious as to what was happening. In less than a minute, the town was engulfed in fire. Flames and smoke choked the air, wreaking havoc across the village.

People cried out for help and attempted to warn others:
Fire, fire! Wake up, everything is on fire!

The woman watched as the village sprung with madness and panic. She sat peacefully on a hill, observing everything unfold and the damage she had caused. The screams of pure terror, bright flames, and sparks formed a hideous grin on her face. She slowly made her way down the hill, clutching her cape and throwing her hood over her head.

She stood in the Towns Square, which was entirely surrounded by flames except for the center. The people watched as she admired the destruction, smiling ever so happily. They all stared at her, begging for help, but all she did was stand there. She slowly removed her hood.

It's the witch... Lilith! The evil bitch came back, Lord save us all!

She couldn't help but laugh. All of a sudden, she heard a certain woman scream. It was a familiar voice, and it caught her attention quickly. She whipped around, inching towards the screeching woman. It was the presbytera, trapped in a burning building. It didn't seem like she could escape from the inside- somebody had to bust open the door from the outside.

Help me, please, somebody help! It's filling up with smoke and it's getting hard to breathe!

Lilith did just that. She kicked down the door, dragging the woman out of the burning flames. She held her by her neck, grinning down at her and staring into her crazed eyes.

Lilith?

Lilith started to chuckle, which grew into a menacing laugh. The fire was now nearly completely surrounding the village. The building behind her was nothing but a pit of angry flames. Just as the wife thought that Lilith had saved her, she leaned towards the presbytera's ear.

Witch.

With all of her force and strength, the evil spirit of the town threw the beloved wife into the raging fire, listening as her screams slowly faded away into the night sky.

She then made her way up back to the hill, rushing through the clear pathways before they were taken over by flames, and continued to watch as her once beautiful village burnt down into ash-

Into nothingness."

⧫ ⧫

I sat there silently for a while, not really sure what to say. "Well... uhm... that's sad.... Why would you tell me a story like that?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "You wanted to hear a story. Not all of them have happy endings."

"Well... then who really killed the daughter?"

"Some mysteries never get solved. You can make up your own theories."

She huffed, sitting up from the bed and making her way towards the door. Maybe she would actually leave me alone for once.

"I'll let you get back to your little stories." She said, walking out of the door and shutting it behind her.

'Not all stories have happy endings?'

𝔸/ℕ:
-A little bit of a different chapter ;) it was originally going to be a mini chapter (chapter 8.5), but generally my mini chapters are under 1000 words... this was nearly 2000 words. So, chapter nine it is, I guess.
This chapter may seem really random or strange, but I promise you, all chapters are important. In some way shape or form, trust 🙂
-All pictures are AI Generated. Thank you, AI
-Geestenstad = Dutch for Ghost Town
-This song is definitely inspired by the song "Hells Coming with Me" by Poor Man's Poison. Great song 😉