Witch of Fear [Mild horror, Isekai High Fantasy]

From the dark fog rose a dream. Or was it a memory? A recollection of some better place. Some better time.

In it, a young Autumn lay in her bed, covers tucked up to her chin as a shadow figure loomed over her, storybook in hand. Nothing else could be seen beyond the endless darkness. Like oil, it clung to the edges of the spotlight of fascination.

Slowly, quietly, the shadowy narrator opened their horror story and read. “‘Where do you hide, little bunny?’ the wicked wolf asked with gnashing teeth. Through the burrow, he did prowl. The little bunny’s heart beat oh so loudly in their little bunny chest. ‘Where have you hopped to? You cannot run forever,’ snarled the wolf.”

In her bed, a wide-eyed Autumn pulled her blanket higher, trying to block out the twisted cadence as the words scratched themselves into her brain. Black shadows danced along the walls in a mockery of life, reenacting the terrifying plot.

“‘Where are you?’ roared the wolf, sniffing the air. ‘I will find you! I will eat you!”

The shadowy room shook.

“COME OUT, LITTLE BUNNY!!! I’LLEATYOURMORTALFLESH!!! IKNOWYOU’REHEREWITCH!”

Autumn awoke with a gasp.

Pain flooded her mind — spikes of agony pounded into her skull by the beat of nightmarish songs. She dry-heaved as nausea flooded her system. Grasping at her pained skull, Autumn let out a keening whine as she tried to drive the torment out with her pale fingers. Alas, it was of no use. All she could do was curl into herself and wait for the pain to pass.

Blood streamed down her nose like a crimson waterfall, staining her bitten lips with the taste of copper. Tears carved down her grimy cheeks as the pain continued. When she wiped at them, Autumn’s hands came away red.

Like a broken mirror, Autumn’s thoughts were fragmented and disjointed. She felt dizzy. Lost.

Slowly, her suffering eased, and her mind grew clearer.

Groaning as she lay on the cold metal floor, Autumn pried her aching eyes open, wincing as the light stabbed into them. Even the soft light in the darksome chamber felt like knives were being driven into her sockets.

Not long had passed since she’d lost unconsciousness — the door still held, at the very least. Not by much, but it held.

Autumn staggered to her feet and, as her hearing recovered, she heard a dull roar coming in from the riverside of the tower. Making her way over to the noise, she caught herself on the wall and peeked out of the narrow window. There she saw what she’d wrought.

The sudden descent of the titanic chain had sent a geyser of bloody water soaring heavenward. It came down upon the city like an apocalyptic rain while monstrous waves battered the docked ships, splintering them against their berths. Autumn’s breath caught in her throat as the roaring waves crashed down upon her party.

For a tense moment, she didn’t dare to breathe.

Suddenly, a pair of shadowy, skeletal steeds broke through the turbulent surf like legendary hippocampi, dragging a waterlogged dragon-bone vessel in their wake. A torrent of red water sluiced off the bones back into the grim river it’d come from. Autumn breathed a sigh of relief upon spotting her bedraggled friends still clinging to the craft.

Slinking away from the window, she tried to marshal her disjointed thoughts into some semblance of order, yet they kept slipping away from her like fog through her fingers. A sudden pulse of agony sent her stumbling into the now stalled winch. As she caught herself on it, Autumn hissed in pain through clenched teeth.

Before she could rally herself, a bright flash of silver light illuminated the room once more.

Autumn cried out in pain at the sight.

Thunder drowned out her lamentations. A scream of tortured metal filled the air as the magical force roared into the metal door, further twisting it and the deadbolt still keeping it in place. The dark tower rocked with the thunderous force, sending Autumn sprawling to the ground. From behind the battered barricade came angry, encouraged shouting, spurring the downed witch into action.

“Fuck me!” Autumn swore as she scrambled across the floor towards the shadows. Upon reaching the gloom, she paused, face scrunched up in furious thought.

She couldn’t remember. Obscured by the haze of pain, the ritual eluded her and the black at her feet remained firm.

Thunder rocked the room once more.

Fright built up in Autumn’s breast.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Come on! Come on!” Autumn panted hoarsely as she panicked. Beating on her head to dislodge something, she screamed, “You can do it, Autumn! You just need to fucking think!”

Naught was her reward, but a fresh headache for such self-directed violence.

“Fuck!” Autumn swore again. Frantically, her eyes around the room searching for another way out, eventually falling upon the metal rungs embedded into the far wall. Hope bloomed in her chest as she hurried over to it, practically falling into it as she tripped over her weary feet. Grasping onto the thick steel, the flagging witch hauled her exhausted body up the rungs.

Just as she neared halfway up, metal screamed from below.

Autumn yelped as she almost fell from the ladder as the tower shuddered. Clinging tightly to the rungs, she chanced a glance below. The battered door wasn’t long for this world. One more mighty blow and the deadbolt would give way. Looking back up at how far she still had to go, Autumn shuddered.

She couldn’t risk being caught on it by the furious guards that were soon to storm the chamber.

Biting her lip, Autumn withdrew a pilfered dagger from her belt and held it loosely in her hand. With her mind fogged by pain, she found it hard to concentrate and cast her dread magic like she usually did. That didn’t mean she couldn’t cast, however. It just meant her methods were far less refined.

Autumn drew the lead-like feeling from her breast and channeled down into the drow blade until it was vibrating threateningly in her grasp. Bracing herself against the metal rungs, she waited, poised to throw.

The silence was deafening.

A horrific shriek split the air as the deadbolt finally gave way, torn in two as the titanic magical force ripped the door from its hinges and sent it crashing into the room with a terrifying boom. Behind the shattered door came the drow guardsmen, their deadly crossbows armed and ready as they flowed into the dark chamber.

Quietly, Autumn tossed the violently glowing dagger before hurriedly scrambling up the ladder.

The guardsmen snapped towards the sound of the dagger clattering at their feet. Their pale eyes widened just as the unstable blade exploded into a cloud of sharp fragments. Screams of agony ripped free of bloodied throats as they fell.

A hot knife of pain lanced into Autumn’s leg as a shard of the fragmented blade tore through the meat of her calf. It burned like fire. The agony of it almost made her black out. Yet, she persevered. Gritting her teeth, Autumn continued her climb with tears of blood carving tracks down her cheeks.

Below her, the guardsmen screamed and cried for their fathers.

Pussies, Autumn thought. It was just one little grenade.

Autumn reached the hatch before anyone below had recovered from her parting gift. Thankfully, it was unlocked. Grunting with effort, Autumn pressed the hatch open with her shoulder and squeaked through the gap, letting the hatch slam closed behind her.

Laying on her back, Autumn whimpered. “Fuck-pant-this-pant-shit. Aren’t I supposed to be a wimpy mage? Why the hell did I choose to do this frontline shit?! Oh, right — stealth. So much for that.”

Autumn winced as she jostled her wounded leg. Not willing to risk using her “healing” spell with her magic as tumultuous as it was, Autumn instead plucked the emergency healing potion Pyre had foisted upon her before leaving and carefully splashing it across the wound. After making sure there wasn’t any metal left in the wound, of course.

It was a distinctively strange feeling, Autumn decided. Feeling your body rapidly fix itself without your input nor any pain.

Feeling oddly put out, Autumn vowed to learn how to add some sort of anesthetic to her own spell…later. Much later. And with someone else “volunteering” to help her.

Why did that sound so villainous?

An aborted snort of laughter escaped Autumn. Aborted as it swiftly turned into hacked coughing.

Groaning to herself, Autumn stared up at the gemstone archway looming high above her. Fell-bats swooped hither and thither across her vision, screeching as they went. Other such dark and fantastical creatures skittered about and across the hanging flora and structures clinging to the archway.

As high up as she was, Autumn could almost forget she was in such a grim, horrid city and just take a moment to admire the strange beauty of the Feydark. She lay there, watching quietly as the soft bioluminescent glow glittered across the gemstone corpse that’d once been a mountain-sized elemental creature.

Of course, her brief moment of peace couldn’t last. It ended with the furious sounds of someone storming up the ladder after the fleeing witch.

Cursing, Autumn rolled to her feet. While the healing potion had closed the wound on her leg, it’d done nothing for her exhaustion, nor for the myriad of bruises she’d collected since she’d only applied it to her wounded leg.

Now on firm footing, the dark and bleary-eyed witch looked about the rooftop which she’d climbed to.

Rather than saying it was a rooftop, it was more of a narrow balcony running around the lip of a menacing spire, many, many hundreds of feet above the sprawling city lying far below. A sheer, terrifying drop loomed beyond the imposingly sharp crenellations. Only the three sisters — the trio of gigantic pillar like constructions that connected up to the gemstone arch — were higher than the tower upon which Autumn stood.

In the grim city, bright fires raged, still roaring despite the city’s defenders’ best efforts. Autumn doubted they’d burn down the entire city, but the longer they kept the drow busy, the better chance she and the escaping slaves had of, well, escaping.

Speaking of which. Autumn felt a savage satisfaction as she witnessed the giant she’d freed tearing through the city on their way northward towards the city's gate with a gaggle of armed slaves following in its destructive wake. She wished them all the best.

Turning away from the city, Autumn limped her way past a scattering of wooden tables and discarded chairs towards the riverside portion of the battlements. Playing cards and half-filled tankards still littered the tables. Autumn was half tempted to down a mug to soothe her raw throat, but didn’t want to risk whatever germs she might pick up.

A funny thing to think about while running for your life. Again.

Was she making a habit of it?

Catching herself on the riverside crenellations, Autumn glanced over them to the river residing far, far below. She felt her stomach drop away.

“Am I really doing this?” Autumn muttered to herself in disbelief as she stared.

Searching the crimson river, she spotted a spick of white bobbing its way towards the river at a rather rapid pace. If she delayed too long, she’d miss them and have to swim after her party.

“Wouldn’t that be embarrassing,” Autumn chuckled to herself mirthlessly.

Just as she started to clamber carefully over the sharp battlements — honestly, who makes sharp battlements! — the hatch boomed open behind Autumn. Spinning hurriedly around, she instinctively raised her shield as a flash of silvery magic rocketed towards her. However, with her magical control currently in flux, the usually smooth surface of her magical protection roiled like a particularly turbulent ocean.

When the silvery light hit the fluctuating shield, it popped it like a soap-bubble.

Autumn crashed backwards into the crenellations, gasping in pain as the impact drove the air from her lungs. As she slid bonelessly to the ground, she was pretty sure she felt a rib shift.

Looking up from her slumped position as she sucked in a series of rapid breaths, Autumn took in the sight of her assailant as they loomed over her, only a couple dozen steps away.

“Holy fuck! What happened to you?!” Autumn choked out in surprise.

Gone was the once beautiful visage of the drow mage. Half her face was a mess of decayed flesh and pus. Goopy tears ran down from a yellowed, cloudy eye. All the hair on that side of her head had either fallen out or remained in disparate clumps. Her cheek had sunken it, now pressed up against rotten teeth.

At Autumn’s callous words, the other half of her face twisted into a rictus of pure hate. “YOU!” she snarled, spittle flying from her cracked lips.

Autumn blinked. “Oh. Right. That. I remember now. Call it a draw?” she gestured to her limp position.

A wordless cry of rage was her reply, alongside a silvery blast of lightning. It sizzled and sparked along the metal as it snaked viciously towards the slumped witch.

Autumn rolled out of the way of the lightning bolt, letting out a yelp as a tendril zapped her when it splashed across the crenellations. Groaning, she clutched at her side as she staggered to her feet. “Yep. I definitely broke a rib.”

Steadying her feet, the dread witch leveled her wand towards the drow mage with shaking hands.

“Hey, two-face. I was serious about that truce. I’ve had a helluva day. How about we call this a wash?”

The crenellations cracked beside Autumn as she spun out of the way of another silvery magical blast.

“I’m going to strip the flesh from your bones for what you did, human!” the drow mage roared.

“Charming.”

As she sent her violet jinxes the drow’s way, Autumn couldn’t help but curse herself. While her head had cleared up somewhat, the buzzing within hadn’t ceased, and as such, she couldn’t focus. Couldn’t pull her spells together into any sort of order. They were worse than when she first picked up Witch Augus’ old wand.

Autumn let out a snarl of frustration as her forceful jinx dissolved midair, falling apart without its magical structure.

“Are you sure you don’t want to call it quits? Get that face looked at, maybe?” 

“DIE!!!” the drow screamed, unleashing another lightning bolt zipping towards the witch.

Unable to dodge fully in time, the bolt caught Autumn in the shoulder. She let out a shrill scream as the lightning seared into her. The force sent her spinning to the ground, twitching with every spark.

The drow mage stormed closer.

Panting on the ground, Autumn’s face twisted in anger. “Fine!” she screamed. “Fine, you want it, you got it! Don’t say I didn’t warn you, you fucking purple cunt!”

Sneering at her words, the drow mage lifted her staff to strike down the foul-mouthed, pretentious witch.

Autumn wasn’t exactly bluffing. Once before, when she was facing the undead angel, she’d cast a blast of pure force in her desperation. She thought perhaps she could do so now. Unstoppering the metaphorical plug-slash-tap that kept her stored fear within her hat, she now let it run wild, trying only to guide it to where it needed to go. The raw power coursed riotously through Autumn’s body and if she thought she was in pain before, this was on a whole other level.

Gasping, Autumn pushed the wild magic down towards her wand. Upon coming into contact with the chaotic magic, the angel-dragon wand drank greedily, devouring the essence.

As the drow’s staff glowed with a silver light, Autumn snapped her wand up and unleashed the torrent of magic towards her. This close to one another, she couldn’t miss.

The drow only had a single breath to widen her remaining good eye. “Wai—” she cried before the veritable tide of unholy dragon’s breath engulfed her. A thunderous explosion erupted where she stood, kicking up a column of smoke. When it cleared, there was a massive hole in the spire’s side. Of the drow mage, there was no sight. Whether the explosion had rendered her to dust or just cast her down into the tower, it was hard to tell.

Harder still when it felt like molten metal filled Autumn’s veins, and there was a thin silvery lance speared through her gut.

In her last — alleged — moments, the drow mage had gotten off a parting spell.

“Not this shit again,” Autumn moaned.

Thankfully, the shaft of light dissipated. Not so thankfully, it left behind a thin hole straight through her lower abdomen.

“At least I’m not paralyzed this time,” Autumn chuckled weakly as she wiggled her toes.

Tiredly picking herself off the ground, she dragged herself over to the crenellations, leaving a line of red behind her. After tucking her wand away, Autumn clambered over the battlements once more, this time uncaring as they cut her hands.

Autumn stared down at the red river below and the speck of white bobbing along waiting for her. Opening her aching jaw, she summed up her feelings for the whole endeavor.

“I’m so done with this shit.”

Letting go, she tipped forwards and fell towards a river once more.

As the wind whipped through her hair, unsuccessfully trying to steal her hat, the exhausted, bloodied, and frankly just done, witch closed her eyes.

A grinning skull stared back at her.

Death blinked in confusion, squinting at Autumn as she fell. Grumbling, he rummaged about in his robes, eventually pulling out an hourglass of white sand. While she couldn’t tell how much sand was on either side, Autumn still read her name etched into the side. 

The penmanship was impeccable.

After tapping on the hourglass a few times, the ferryman looked satisfied and returned it to his cloak. He looked back at Autumn and spoke in his familiar, haunting drawl.

“You’re early.”