{WARNINGS]: Gore, tearing flesh, occult, talk of sacrifices, and talk of past trauma as a child. 

This chapter is very long (4600 words). I will try to cut it down. For now, I apologise.

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It was an undeniable truth. A fact Violet couldn't avoid. That was the smell of rotting flesh. 

Though she had never smelled it fresh and up close before. The aroma mixed with wafts of burning muscle and bone. A slick squelch preceded the release of assaults on her olfactory senses and was followed by the sound of tearing flesh. It was remodelled with stretched fibres as parts pulled away, and Jason's screams echoed in a wonderous chorus.

Fragmented memories became clearer as her mind woke halfway through the murder. She could have stopped herself. But the shrill sounds of the dying rapist as she tore intestines from his abdomen, tossing them away to litter the grass, was addicting.

Violet's consciousness nudged for her to waken, and shame corroded her mind with the realisation of what she had done. Why hadn't she stopped herself? Why was that darkness so attractive?

A new scent reached her limited awareness—the crisp, musty smell of damp rock.

The slight moan she pushed out was weak. She moved the tips of two fingers and regretted the action as fire lit her nerve endings across her forearm. Violet whimpered and sobbed. The memories of Jason shattering her arm returned.

"Keep your arm still," a voice echoed off stone walls. "I don't know how you're awake, but your arm needs another day to heal from whatever the witches did to you."

The voice was familiar, but unconsciousness clung to Violet like tar, and only parts of her had escaped enough to gain awareness. Against the advice, she moved again. Her other arm showed less pain but couldn't rise from the ground. She noticed the icy grip of metal around her wrists and neck.

"They're taking no risks with you. Something about you escaping twice, and they refuse to let it happen again," the woman's voice called, forcing piercing, needle-like pain into Violet's brain. "I think they're frightened of you. They doused the chains with sedatives. Seems an unnecessary amount given they locked us in a cell that blocks access to Nen."

Several minutes later, blurred vision showed nothing beyond dark grey walls, which danced in and out under dim flickering lamplight on the ceiling. It took time for the picture to stabilise. Casting her gaze to her broken arm, it was swollen several times past normal, but together once more.

A pathetic sob escaped her mouth as she became aware of the pain throughout her body. She sensed the sedatives invading every breath. Pressure sores were ragging, and she needed to relieve the sites. Rusted, bronze metal at least five inches thick surrounded her wrists.

It took every ounce of strength to flip her arm over her body and use the momentum to shift to her back. Regret was swift as the pain raced through her body and her head hung back, the chain around her neck thicker than the wrists, preventing comfortable contact with the rock floor.

The sound of shifting fabric met her ears then a familiar face appeared in Violet's line of sight.

Marcy...

Marcy wore a stained white shirt over her nose and mouth, a feeble attempt to block the effects of whatever sedative was wafting from the chains. She moved a brown leather jacket between the back of Violet's head and the ground. It relieved the pressure down her spine.

Marcy appeared pale, and her face was gaunt and bruised. Her frizzy black locks were tied back but greasy from lack of care. A frown spread across Violet's lips. Marcy furrowed her brows before walking across the cell to the far wall, straightening her shirt back into place.

"This whole thing is way more complex than you know," Marcy said. "It's further reaching than I even realised. I just thought we were running orphanages and raising strong people to give them the best opportunities. I thought we chased you because you were going to destroy the operations."

Condensation resided along the uneven edges of the stone ceiling. Violet watched the odd droplet travel along a well-established path before it rounded and dripped to the floor. It thankfully missed her already goosebump-riddled skin, but the sound of it striking the floor indicated the entire cell was poorly carved stone.

"Where am I, Marcy?"

"You're still on Greed Island. Not far from where you found the relic. They were very pleased to get it, whatever it was."

"Are you my warden, then?"

"In a way, I suppose, but not exactly," Marcy answered, but her voice was strained.

"It's a yes or no. You're either here to guard me or a prisoner like me. That seems unlikely, as you could kill me as things stand now."

"Our Nen doesn't work in here, so not—"

"There are a hundred ways you could end me," Violet snapped. "I get you feel vulnerable without your power crutch. That's why you should never rely solely on one skill."

"Killing you wouldn't get me out of this cell, Violet. It would more than likely lead to a painful end for me."

Another undeniable truth that hurled both women into a strained silence. Violet peered around the cell. A symbol was etched into the far wall. It curved and slashed, drawing the eye around its beauty, but the power radiating from it was undeniable. The symbol from the far wall was also displayed at the top of the prison door. Given how the light shadows danced through the small window of the door, a set of steep stairs lay beyond.

"Why are you even here, Marcy?"

Unwelcomed silence. Nerves and muscles all screamed in agony throughout Violet.

"Madam Luzena found me when I escaped our confrontation in Yorknew..."

Violet gazed back as much as she could through the restraints. Marcy's expression was dark, and she sat against the wall with her arms resting on her bent legs. She looked down, miserable. But any sympathy Violet had was left on the battlefield with Jason. Self-preservation was the only drive she had enough strength to entertain.

"She guided me here. I didn't realise Zanko died until after. From there, they said I was the next in line to control... they called it the...'child-rearing' departments." She stopped to shudder.

"Hisoka's... friend, if I can call him that, found evidence about the Madam lady. I had a memory about these places you kept the children. It's disgusting you do that to innocents."

"We were all raised in those orphanages, myself included—"

"All the more reason to call out the abuse! Why make others go through your horrors!"

"Keep your voice down!" Marcy called in a hushed tone and bent forward. There was deep-rooted fear in her brown eyes. "If they hear you awake, they'll come! You're better to stay quiet. This might be the last moments of freedom you get."

"Freedom?!" The tears forced their way from the corners of her eyes. Once the first one escaped, she couldn't stop the rest. "I'm chained down with enough iron to hold a mammoth. My arm is shattered. I'm freezing and in more pain than I've ever been in my life, including when the demon in Heaven's Arena struck my legs! There's no freedom here."

"It might not be full freedom, but you're awake and able to talk and think for yourself. It's limited, but you can move."

"Just shut up, Marcy. I'd rather spend the last moments of my life recovering strength if an escape comes or at least have the peace."

"The witches are the ones that blocked your memories," Marcy revealed.

"What?"

"You escaped the facility as a child. You were different from the other children. I wasn't there, but Zanko told me. You were only the third child in all their history to have such strong signs of what they were seeking."

"What signs?"

Marcy shook her head. "Neither of us ever knew. Only Madam Luzena had the power to spot the children. Only two others had the abilities they wanted. It's some kind of genetic mutation, as far as I can tell. But they've never revealed much. Once I was brought here, I realised we're just low-level tools."

Violet ground her teeth in frustration and annoyance.

"Most children are trained heavily in Nen and fighting skills or useful skills to send money back to the organisation. But the ones like you are treated differently. You were stubborn and wouldn't take the special treatment. You were moved to Zanko's facility to have your energy drained daily to keep you under control. You still escaped when you were young, eight? Maybe ten, I don't know; it's hearsay."

"My entire life is just a broken reel of abuse, great."

"You escaped, Violet," Marcy said with almost kindness. "It wasn't until you were eighteen that they found you again. It's funny, though." She smirked.

"What? I don't find any of this the least bit amusing."

Marcy shook her head. "No, it's just funny how life works out for some. When you were found, it was my first mission. You were with Hisoka on the day the portal was used, and your memories were taken. Did you know?"

Violet's eyes widened, and her lips parted. As pathetic as it was, she wanted to be with him now. To feel the safety of his presence. The way Marcy recalled the information was different to what the magician had revealed. He told her they knew each other before, but Marcy seemed to think they were close.

"Were we...together?"

Marcy raised her eyebrows before the ghost of a smile danced on her lips.

"I don't think you were as close as you are now. But certainly friends. At the very least close allies. He looked at you differently—possibly the early days of a relationship? Hell, the flicker of it was in Heaven's Arena too. He kept you guarded and close even at a cost to himself."

Violet bit her lower lips and furrowed her brows at the implication.

"He fought hard for you that day. But I was taken out before the end." Marcy sighed. "I heard later that the witches won by sending you through a portal. That dimension was basically a giant prison. That witch. Samantha. She was sent as your warden. I doubt anything that happened there was outside their design."

"Basically, I've always been a slave."

"Everyone answers to someone," Marcy said.

"Most governments give people some freedoms, even if limited. From what you say, they fixed me up with my first husband, a demon, and then pulled their marionette strings wherever they wanted."

"No," Marcy interjected. "They were furious about the demon thing. He was well-guarded as a gang leader. They were yelling at Samantha not long ago for messing up on several occasions, and that one was brought up. But she did set the strings in motion to ensure he and your child died."

More tears filled Violet's eyes.

"I'm sorry. I didn't—"

Silence returned as old wounds reopened in Violet's mind. She sniffled, trying to regain control, refusing to die a weeping coward.

"The sigils on the wall," Violet pointed. "Those are what block your Nen. Witches use them in areas to hinder demons and other supernatural beings. Anything that draws power from within itself will be blocked from accessing it."

Marcy walked to the far wall to examine the large symbol. She found a loose stone and tried to destroy the etching. Violet called to her a few times to relay why it was a futile effort before giving up. 

Once Marcy removed several chucks from the wall, she paused to admire her work. She tried to activate her Ren to no effect.

"They're just the projection—"

"The real source lies within the crystals outside this room," said a woman's voice Violet didn't recognise, cutting her explanation short.

Chills rushed through Violet's core, and she struggled to restrain the panic. It was the presence that entered the room with the new arrival that rattled Violet's usual calm composure in a tight situation.

"M-Madam Luzena..." Marcy stuttered.

"Marcy, once you agree to take your position and fill Zanko's role, you'll be free to move as you please. It's why he was training you as his replacement. Don't you want to honour his memory?" the chipped voice of the Madam asked. "Give you blood oath, and end this frivolous charade. Or rot in here. The choice is yours. But you will leave as an ally or not at all."

Violet watched Marcy fall, stuck by golden witch's flames whipping across the room. She shrieked and held a hand over her cheek. The flesh was loose, and blood dripped off her grasping fingers as she tried to keep her cheek in place.

"H-how can you use your powers!?" Marcy sobbed.

"Our powers come from nature itself, an external source. We are powerful conduits but don't create it. This connection to nature is why Violet is here in a place so close to the moon, earth, air and sea. Greed island is the perfect location for the sacrifice," said another voice.

It sounded sweet but dripped with nothing but venom—the source of the cold striking her system. When her voice sang, Violet saw Marcy tremble too. Colour escape Marcy's face, and her eyes fell to the floor. 

The sweet call of the siren continued, "There were several places we could have done this, but I want to perform the ritual as soon as her bones are healed enough."

"W-who are you?" Marcy squeaked, just above a whisper.

"Why I could give an introduction, but I'm sure Violet has at least heard of me," answered the strange woman. "She should have at least been informed about some of the presents I left the hunters who rudely tried to subdue me."

Marcy's eyes matched Violet's gaze. She saw her own terror reflected in the brown orbs. The sharp sound of heels clipped across the stone towards her inescapable bound form. Heels usually meant Hisoka, and she had grown accustomed to feeling excited by their approach. These ones brought with them a pounding heart that hurt with each beat against her strained chest.

Then, the face came into Violet's blurred line of sight. The brunette hair with red highlights that popped in the dim flickering lights nearly matched the freckles across her cheeks. Her heart-shaped jaw led Violet's eyes to spot a dark smile and bright blue orbs that shone with deep lowlights, almost black. She reached forward and ran her finger slowly along Violet's cheek. Death's kiss. And it was impossible for Violet to hold back a soft cry. But none of it stopped the witch from grabbing her jaw and forcing her face to angle towards the death-blue irises.

"Y-you're the witch that would send pieces of the hunters back to their loved ones. They would be hexed and kill entire families."

"Sometimes neighbourhoods, if I was lucky enough." She chuckled with glee as her thumb pressed hard into Violet's left cheek.

"I don't know your name." A single tear escaped her right eye and rushed down the cheek opposite the one she knew would be harshly bruised.

"I rarely provide it." Release came to Violet as the witch dropped the grip on her chin. "Here, I'm known as Mother or Lead Mother since I'm the coven head. It's easier than my given name, Xanque!tesh." The coven leader stood. "My mother had quite the sense of humour with the names she gave her nineteen children."

"Violet!" screamed a familiar, confusing and unwanted voice. "You're awake!"

Xanque!tesh shifted aside as Sammy Walker proceeded to rush to Violet's side and skid to a stop on her knees. Sammy's olive eyes shone with concern. The expression gave way to fury, which she turned on Marcy, still frozen at the back of the cell.

"Why the hell did you go near her!?"

"I-I... It was only to give her a rest for her head!"

"She's on her back, you worthless ant!" Sammy bellowed. "The sedative can make her nauseous! She would have suffocated on her own vomit in this position!"

"Now, Samantha, dear," Xanque!tesh sang.

Sammy obediently straightened and gave full attention to the head witch. 

It doesn't make sense. How can she be in both dimensions? Hisoka... I wish I'd never left the Yorknew apartment.

"Marcy was training with Zanko to take on the role of breeding our sacrifices. She would know better than to allow Violet to die only a day before we rip out the best parts for ourselves."

"Yes, Mother," Sammy responded.

"I..." Marcy's voice sounded, no more than the whisper of a mouse, but it called the attention of every witch in the cell. "I'm never helping any of you. I won't be a slave for such a sick reason!"

Strength reached Marcy's voice near the end, and heat blazed in her brown eyes. Violet ground her teeth, already certain it would lead nowhere good.

The difference between a hero and stupidity is that the hero survives, you idiot, Marcy.

"Madam! Why aren't you saying anything!" Marcy fought to redeem the only friend in the room. "We've always done well with your tasks. We just wanted to give underprivileged children a chance! I'm not helping with some sick program to make sacrifices."

"Given that the operation only produced three children—"

"Five!" Marcy cut Xanque!tesh out of her explanation. "Why aren't you saying anything, Madam Luzena?"

"Zanko found Violet with her impoverished family and bought her. Of the four others, only two turned out to be sacrificial-worthy," the coven Mother revealed. "I believe there has been some misunderstanding, Marcy."

Violet's head spun from the reality-shattering information as much as her poor physical state. She focused on Sammy, who moved into her line of sight and began stroking her face, forcing a stinging burn over the damaged area left by the witch. She snarled at Sammy but didn't have the strength to stop her.

The tap of Madam Luzena's boots drew closer to the coven lead, and Sammy sat up, allowing Violet to twist her neck enough to witness the governess-like woman glow in golden flames. The heat fully engulfed her form and rushed into Xanque!tesh. The light surrounded her before pulling into the witch's skin and dimming to nothing. 

"She was merely a projection. It makes it far easier to be in two places at once and ensures my will is done without showing too much."

"Di-did Zanko know?"

"No, of course not. But since you'll be giving a blood oath, I will ensure a subclause on your silence. However, if you've done your job for once, Violet may be the last one needed."

"We gave our lives for this cause and did so muc—"

"The plan Zanko had was a good one. Really, he was more brainstorming out loud, but it worked to near perfection. The only thing interfering with it was your failures."

"What plan?" Marcy asked.

"You failed to retrieve Violet as a teenager or in Heaven's Arena and Yorknew. Although Samantha holds the responsibility for losing Violet when we tried to retrieve her with the first portal."

"I'm sorry, Mother," Sammy apologised quietly. "It should have been perfectly attuned to her location. I don't know how she ended up in Heaven's Arena. I take full responsibility."

"Why does it not surprise me you would be that heartless, Sammy? Those portals killed so many people!" Violet snarled at Sammy, still stroking her like a long-lost love.

Xanque!tesh cackled. "Now, don't be too hard on Samantha. She was your warden and charged with watching you. You lived far more of a life than any of the other sacrifices. Don't be greedy, Violet." She turned to Marcy. "Zanko once said, 'if only we could lock her up without escape'. It gave me a wonderful idea. Lock Violet in another dimension. Each generation, there is a power cohort and a spiritual cohort born. The next ones aren't born until both from the last generation expire."

A sharp turn saw the coven Mother facing Violet, and she jumped at the veracious gaze of certain death. The movement spiralled pain everywhere along her body.

"Two power cohorts cannot normally exist at the same time. The dimension locked you away, making nature assume you'd died and a new couple was born. We needed to wait for them to grow large enough to be worth sacrificing. Sacrificing two power cohorts at once is just the push the seal needs to break finally. It took time to arrange everything, but it will be worth the wait." She turned to face Marcy. "But there was no reason it should have taken this long."

"W-we did the best we could! Zanko didn't want to use the demons, but you insisted! They almost killed her!" Marcy defended.

"Yet Samantha needed to clean that mess up, too."

"You expected us to subdue that many raging demons!? We don't have those things here! We cou—"

"And what of the other failures?" Xanque!tesh asked.

"We—"

"Y-you sent the demons for me? They nearly killed me with their venom, Sammy..." Violet hated that her heart was breaking all over again. I've never been free. They've controlled every part of my life.

"I cast a spell on the rain to heal you, Violet. That was never meant to happen," Sammy defended. "The portal messed everything up, including the demons and our control of them when we bought them ove—"

"You'll be sacrificed tomorrow. There are several high-level spell traps guarding this place for miles. No one will leave or reach us, including your magician," Xanque!tesh said. "But he's not missing you. He's too busy hunting his own kind, likely to his demise."

Another tear rushed down Violet's face and stung when it hit the part of her cheek Xanque!tesh had bruised. The coven leader walked past her broken body towards the back of the cell.

"I'm not in the mood to clear a body later, and Zanko didn't have enough time to prepare you for your role," she said. "My children will be busy tending to the needs of our benefactor, and it's clear your beliefs don't align. Despite the useful mind control skill, given all the failures, it may be best to cut the losses and start with a fresh face and organisation."

"What—"

It was the last syllable Marcy ever spoke. The act was fast and relatively quiet as Xanque!tesh smashed her head into the wall with a hand over her face. A halo of golden flame burst forth from the back of Marcy's head. The witch was walking away before Violet could fully comprehend the situation.

Several blinks later, Violet watched Marcy slide down the wall, her brain tearing as she did. The Nen specialist's corpse slumped against the stone with the skin of her cheek hanging, revealing part of her teeth and the mind that once controlled all others; now, it was left useless against the wall.

"Since you seem to enjoy the role of the warden, please continue that job for another day, Samantha, dear," the coven Mother said, breaking Violet from her gawking disbelief. "I'll call for her once the preparations are complete."

"Yes, Mother."

The heavy clang of the cell door resounded off the walls. Drowsiness would not stop Violet from digging for more information. 

"You've played me this whole time. Will I at least get my memories back? I don't remember anything before the portal. Just give me something!"

"Shhh, Violet. Screaming won't help. It's best to let the sedatives keep you from pain," Sammy dodged.

"Cannot even be honest with me at the end? Figures. And you wonder why I prefer Hisoka. For all his faults, at least he's real with me."

"He's worthless and a psychopath—"

"You're going to cut me open like a pig! And he's the psycho? Rich," Violet cried. "I've never heard of witches working this hard for a sacrifice. They usually just use what's most convenient. What is it about me that is so essential?"

"It's better you not understand," Sammy answered.

"No, it's better for you."

Frustrated, Violet turned her face away and lay in agony as the sedatives grew in potency. Regret filtered through the silence as she realised she might never return to Hisoka. At least the last conversation we had was a good one. I only started to live. It was so fleeting—

"The day we found you again. You were in Meteor City, the junkyard city," Sammy said. "It makes sense. Everyone knows that the city is one of trash; everything worthless is dumped there. The people that live within it are powerful and wild, even though they're long-considered garbage as much as what surrounds them by the rest of the world. It was the perfect place to hide."

"I don't remember any of that," Violet whispered.

"Do you remember anything without pain?"

"The pain is from the spell?" Sammy nodded. "I remember some basic things and my name, but mostly I remember the smell of vanilla and sweetness. And—"

"Hisoka."

Violet nodded confirmation.

"That's how you averted the portal. You opened a new door close to him. If you had more recollection, I bet you would have landed right on top of him. You're human, for now, but once activated, you're only one of a handful of living beings that can move between dimensions. Even us witches need much help from higher powers to do it."

Someone is helping them then. It's not just the witches?

"The spell she used was because of Hisoka's interference. once we opened the portal, he used his Bungee Gum on his feet and locked your arms together. We'd never seen anything like it. He was pulling you out of a portal, and you were half-swallowed. That is supposed to be impossible."

"Why couldn't you just let him succeed and leave me alone?"

The tears were beginning to pool again. At one time, he had sacrificed so much for her. Anger flared as to why Hisoka would keep their relationship secret. They were clearly close once.

"The impact of the memory spell would be enough to disorient him, even temporarily," Sammy admitted. "Even if for just a moment. And it stopped you from seeking the greatest driver for your freedom too. You couldn't remember."

"Remember what?"

"Hisoka." Sammy smiled sadly. "The goal of the spell was to remove your memories of Hisoka and your relationship. It's why you remember certain things but not others. Although you didn't meet him until later, you've linked your early memories to him. At least in a distant way."

"Can I get them back?"

"Yes and no," Sammy said. "It's possible but needs to be done within a few months of losing them. They'll be buried far too deep now. You'll likely never recover them. At least not without destroying your mind in the process. There is medicine you can take to help with the headaches, but it's just to alleviate the symptoms."

"Sammy?"

"Yes, Violet?"

"I hate you." Tears shed further from her eyes.

"I wish every day you had been born a witch. I could have had you in the coven with me and—"

"I loath you, Sammy. I don't want chains! I need freedom! I want you all to burn in the lowest level of hell if it exists. Even then, it won't be enough!" Violet sobbed. "No one deserves to die like this, yet you'll claim to love me? Bullshit! I hope Hisoka guts you when he comes."

"He's not coming, Violet."

"Tonight? Maybe not. But he will eventually. I may be long gone, but I still hope he will undo you."

"I'm sorry, Violet."

Sammy reached for her hair and smoothed it.

"Don't touch me! I may not die with dignity, but I will live with it. Even if it's only a few hours."

After hours of racking her brain with escape plans, Violet fell victim to the pull of her exhaustion and the call of the witch's sedatives. She drifted into nightmare-like dreams that weren't much better than the reality she lived. Still, she refused to let go of her last glimmers of hope and pure stubborn nature. 

Everyone deserved a life of freedom, but no one more than Violet. It was worth every ounce of fight she had left. 

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It is not looking great for Violet. How will she get out of this one?

Poor Marcy. Did she deserve that death?

What do you think of the new witch, Xanque!tesh?

Thank you for all your support. Please don't forget to comment and vote.