*Veronica

I let myself be hoisted up by Vessa, my body a nightmare of agony. The skin around the scratches Vivian gave me is becoming necrotic and I can smell the sweet stench of rot from my own face. At this point, though, it is the least of my worries.

After lying to Ben that I would try to run away, I am anxious to get my hands on the sacrificial knife to end his life. This time I would not hesitate. It was the only way to keep him from suffering. The ritual calls for the death to happen slowly so that the victim's suffering feeds into to the spell. I won't let it happen. I'll make it fast and painless before we reach the altar.

We leave the house and walk into the forest towards the Ben tries to catch my eye several times, but I keep my face averted. I can't run. There is no escaping the sisters. Not at night. Not in the forest. Not in a half broken body. And not at any other time, either.

I want him to keep up his hope until the last possible moment, though. My lie is the sugar coating to take the fear of death from his last moments. A bit of candy to sweeten the razor sharp blade.

Vivian stops us in the middle of the dark forest path. It's one of many tangled ways snaking out from the house. We have come half the distance to Briar Hill; I don't see why we have stopped.

"Veronica, my darling, where are my manners?" she asks.

I sag away from Vessa, too weak to face whatever horror Vivian has in mind.

"It is your special night; you should bear the sacrificial knife to its destination." Vivian is smiling. My night vision might not be as strong as a full witch's, but I can divine the yellow gleam of her teeth. "Careful now. It's sharp. Sharp enough to cut a soul in half."

Hissing laughter crawls like spiders into my ears. A witch's soul is cloven in two when she ascends to her dark powers, they say. The bright exterior – the part with the potential to return to the light is cut loose and is destroyed, leaving only the nucleus to blacken and rot. This blade will cut my immortal soul in half the moment I use it on another to cause pain.

Including Vessa, if I jab it in her eye as I so long to do. But when Vivian places the knife in my hand, the hilt burns and I nearly drop it. Vessa loosens her hold in disgust while I juggle awkwardly to catch it. My cuffed wrists hinder me.

Ben grunts and sidesteps behind Vivian during the spectacle I am causing. He throws tied hands over her head and around her neck, yelling for for me to run. Valda reaches for him, but he kicks her hard in the side.

"Go!" he yells.

Vessa laughs in the shadows. I whirl, waving the blade as menacingly as possible.

"I could kill you," I say. "You could die before the change takes me and then where will you be when I make the sacrifice and rise as the Shadow Hex?" I keep her at bay. "Ashes and scorched earth. The wind that moans."

When a witch dies, her body is consumed by hell's fires and her voice is lost on the wind in bitter hate until she joins her master below.

Vessa laughs again, recognizing the reference. "But you'd have to make a terribly clean kill in order to stop me and I don't believe you are capable of it. Are you, Veronica? Are you capable of killing quickly?"

She knows I plan on killing Ben. To save him, I have to kill him and she knows. Vivian knows, too; it's why she gave me the knife. They are taunting my weakness, knowing I'm not capable of itl.

Ben yells as me again, choking Vivian, to keep her under control as Valda stalks slowly around the two. They are playing with him.

I swing the knife wildly at Vessa, as though slicing for her throat and I run.

I run from their mocking laughter. I run from whatever evil fate they will torture Ben with if I don't perform the ritual. I run from my curse. Not knowing where I my strength comes from, I weave between trees, dodge the thickest thorn bushes, duck under grasping branches. I run. Ben grunts in pain, but I keep running through the cold night. Nothing matters but running.

Vessa and Valda step out in front of me and I skid to a halt. My chest aches for air and a stitch in my side lances with each breath. I sink to my knees in defeat. There is no escaping full-power witches in the dark woods.

"Little fool," Vessa says. She bends to my where I'm slumped, coming in close enough to kiss me if she wanted. Her putrid breath fills my nostrils. "You should know better than to stray from the path in these woods. The wolves might eat you. They might tear you limb from limb while you beg for mercy."

"Like this," Valda says, taking my hand that holds the knife. She yanks me sideways, bringing her teeth down onto the bare skin of my wrist. Pain explodes through me as she tears through flesh.

Reflexively, I drop the knife and lash out with the other fist. Vessa catches my punch. She and Valda begin a tug of war – biting, chewing, sucking and pulling until a pop whips through the night air. I scream. My shoulder is dislocated.

The sisters find this amusing and spin around me, dancing and laughing.

"And with this the festivities commence!" Vessa cries, wiping my blood from her chin to lick it off her hand.

Valda howls to the starry sky. "So it begins! But we've kept Vivian and your sweet friend waiting long enough, don't you agree?" She takes me by the hair to drag me. I stumble to my feet, trying to follow. "There is a ritual to perform still, dear Shadow Hex, correct? A waste of power if you ask me."

She continues muttering obscenities and asking rhetorical questions, but I am growing deaf and blind to my surroundings. Each step is a bolt of agony through my shoulder, my wrists are at first ache and burn from the torn skin and the blood streams off my fingertips. Little by little, the fire turns to ice, though. Burning, icy cold that spreads up my veins. Their venomous spit is killing me, and I could very well die before we even reach the hill.

Their idiocy and hatred might just save me yet. I chuckle. They'll try to track me down in the afterworld, of course, but I will hide and if they drag me back to be reborn here, I will continue to fight. I refuse to give them what they want – not in this life, the beyond or the next. Darkness is creeping inside of me and I embrace it.

"Whoremonger dogs!" Vivian cries. Her hands are on me; hot coals on my frozen arms. I open my mouth to scream, but nothing comes out and I thrash side to side to escape her. Her hands hold me down, though, searing me like brands.

It pains her to heal me. I hear the rasp of anger in her voice cutting through the thick cover of frost and darkness on me. For once, she is bringing light and strength to another and it weakens her. As her powers begin to enter like barb wires in my muscles and bones, I arch back touching the ground with only heels and head. No matter how I try to run and hide, her cruel magic finds me.

*** Thanks for reading! I have finally finished this and will be posting over the next week or so! ***