The Witch Part 2

The Witch reached back for her staff, planning to whack the creepers with her cane in their most vulnerable family jewels. Even though she thought her cane was too good for the job, she would rather not use any parts of her body to touch the unsavory men.

The men pretended to be scared and chuckled. They thought her little rebellious act was cute.

Suddenly, she felt a warmth in her chest, and her heartbeat livened up. The Witch smiled brightly and put the staff away.

“Looks like a demon’s coming, so you better scram while you have the chance,” the Witch said.

The three men laughed at her as if they just heard a funny joke.

“Oh, I’ve never heard that one before,” Gangsta B said.

“It’s usually, ‘I have a boyfriend,’ or ‘I’m married,’” Hoodlum A said, imitating the voices of women.

Thug C wiggled his hips and said, “So the stronger the better, eh? Didn’t know you like it rough and wild.”

The three burst out laughing, almost falling to the ground. The Witch just rolled her eyes at them.

Then, a shadow fell upon the group.

Of course, the cliché must continue. If a girl was being attacked, a girl must also be saved. Such was the way of the world (not really).

“My Lady, I apologize if I’m intruding, but are these men your friends?” The demon Guide asked.

The three men turned to the interloper, and their eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

Standing at the entrance of the alleyway, with hands on wide hips, two horns adorning a head of lustrous long black waves, demonically alluring smile spreading on a beautiful face, swollen chest constrained by a lacy corset, waist cinched small then expanding into bulbous hips, small shorts with the top button undone and barely containing a perky behind, naked curvy soft thighs and calves flaunting over a pair of strappy leather heels, the late party intruder bent her body closer into the alley to examine the men, her bosom in danger of slipping out from its casing.

“No, they’re total strangers,” the Witch answered. “Would you like a…” Sweeping an eye over the three men, the witch asked, “A three-course meal before we head out?”

Drool was starting to drip from the mouth of the three men and also from the lips of the interloper.

“You don’t mind?” the newcomer asked excitedly.

“Please, help yourself,” the Witch said. With the men still in a daze, the girl easily stepped out of the encirclement.

As she headed back to the street, she turned to the men and said, “Make sure to take her to heaven as you promised me.”

The girl patted the bare shoulder of her savior, and the Witch whispered into the demon’s ears, “Just don’t kill them, and wait here for my return.”

“Yes, My Lady,” the pretty demon said, and headed into the dark alley as the Witch strode towards the sunlit street.

There were still things that the Witch had to take care of. Now that she got out of the troublesome situation, she continued where she had left off. No one came after her, and she didn’t bother looking back.

Vendors lined the streets on both sides as she made her way towards the center of the city. Children already couldn’t contain their excitement for the start of the festival tomorrow and donned their masks.

“Horns of all kinds! Demons and beasts, you name it! We have it!” A man shouted. His stands were full of horns that ranged from white to brown to black, from rams to deer to bison, to imitate demon and beast horns. Next to the horns was a pile of headbands of various hair colors where the horns could be attached. “Pick and choose, mix and match for your customizable horns!”

Of course, none of those horns were real demon horns. The real ones were too valuable and rare to sell on a street vendor.

At another stand, a vendor shouted, “Scholar looks guaranteed, but not your smarts! These glasses can fool anyone using Arcane Arts!” Glasses without lenses and magical-looking books lined the table. The vendor himself wore a pair of silver glasses hollowed out without lenses. “Anyone can be a Scholar, whether mage, witch, or wizard!”

Next to the Scholar stand was a stand selling mage robes of all different colors with trims of bronze and copper. Real mage robes were trimmed with gold and silver, but common folks couldn’t afford these unless it was for a wedding.

The Witch, too, liked the festival. When she was younger, she remembered her mother taking her to all the magic shows, and her father hoisting her on his shoulders to watch the performances.

She couldn’t remember their faces anymore. It was more than three hundred years ago. The feeling of warmth, love, and the happiness she must have felt at that time had faded, gone with the passage of time, gone with the rises and falls of kingdoms.

The Witch didn’t feel sad. She didn’t feel anything. While her time stood still, everything around her moved.

But even after hundreds of years, things didn’t change that much. Advances had been made to magic, but festivals still made people happy, and children still liked to dream of being able to wield magic when they grow up.

As she walked further away, the warmth in her chest cooled, and her livened heartbeat quieted.