Chapter 0: Witch one, Sister or Mother? {Part 3} {Page 3 and 9}

A defender’s blood will become acid to the dark. But that was basic logic. But you never want to kill a witch, because it becomes meaningless. Bone bind magic. They would just be reborn and become stronger than the last time; their memory as sharp as ever, remembering your face.

The battle cry of the other witches rang out and the old man started. The witches jumped off from the balcony and landed on their feet as light as a cat would do from jumping from a fence. They were hissing. Hoods over their faces.

The old man brought his staff up and slammed it down hard on the wooden floor. A blast of hard air shot around the man in a circle and expanded. Knocking the witches to their feet. The one closets to him raised her finger and a black bolt shot out and flew straight at the old man.

The man stepped to the side as fast as he could, for only the bolt missed his heart but struck his side. Carving some flesh out. But the normal blood, thick and red, did not pour from his open wound, but a dark liquid fell to the wooden floor. The old man took a big in breath and hissed, “Astra Wound!” A scab formed over the wound and the man breathed out.

Spells were thrown at the man, all shots missed to fright of the other witches. Then the witch, who had cast the dart spell, yelled out, “Die Calesor, Die you bastard!”

The old man grinned, as a response to the name Calesor. He grabbed a silver chain from around his belt. The two standing witches screamed at the sight of the chain. They turned on their heels and started running. The old man, Calesor, what ever he was; threw the chain into the air. The second the chain left his hands, the sound of firecrackers was heard. The two witches froze. The chain stood in the air and then, shot at the witches. The chain reached one of the witch’s and trapped her feet. Binding her from ankles to mouth.

She screamed as the silver made contact with her open skin. Silver on a witch’s body creates the sensation of a burning fire.

The other witch stopped and fell to her knees, crying heavily and shaking her head whispering, “No, no, no, this can’t be happening.”

The Calesor smirked and then drew out another chain. He swung it over his head. But something caught his eye. The adult witch was moving. She was more of a threat than that little girl. He threw the chain at the adult. He reached in to his pouch again for another chain, but all he felt was leather.

He looked at the other witch, sobbing on the ground. He ran over to her as fast as he could. He grabbed her hood and yanked it off. A stream white hair poured down from the good and a fresh new wave of tears fell to the ground.

The clanking sound of the chain snaking over to the adult witch seemed to startle the young witch in front of her. The chain snaked around the adult and she moaned as the silver burned her skin. The witch’s eyes were red with hate.

“I didn’t even a thing… and she said nothing bad would happen.” Sniffed the white haired witch in front of the Calesor. The Calesor walked off, he knew, for some reason, that she did nothing. He stopped at the other little witch, who could be the white haired’s sister. Picked her up and walked over to the adult who was now knocked out cold. He picked her up as well. Carrying both witches on his shoulders.

“Don’t kill my sister or my mom, I need them. I don’t know what I would do if I lost them.” She said in an airy, feeble voice.
She was truly defeated, she wouldn’t fight back. He looked at the little girl standing in front of him. The Calesor shook his head and whispered,
“Shinigami’s mission is to send the Murderers of the Speeds to hell. I promised Shinigami, the devil, and god himself. To get rid of you type of fiends. But you do not fight back, nor do I think you caused the death of the Speed family. Therefore I have decided to spare your life.” He spoke loud and clear, but in an also tired voice. “Now, please tell me the truth, who killed the Speeds?”

She looked up at him having more tears fall from her eyes; sliding down her cheeks and splashing on the ground. She kept whispering, “Why, why, why…?”

The Calesor was growing very inpatient, do to his old age, he felt like he was going to die right their if he had to stand any longer.

Then she fell to her knees, the moonlight throwing her into full focus. Her white hair reflected the light from the moon; her black robe seemed too small because her belly button was showing. Her skin was a fair tan color, which meant that she was a clean witch who hasn’t been reduced to killing. Her eyes shined a bright, deep blue.

Shinigami cold hands were upon his shoulders whispering, “Kill them, they deserve it. Show no mercy. She is better off dead than living in the human world along with her sister and her mother.”

The Calesor grimaced at the voice of Shinigami; stuck in his head, not being able to be rid of it. It even sent chills down the Calseor’s back. But it was not his choice for who lives and who suffers. He walked over to the girl, putting down the other witches. He knelt down and put his hand on the girl, who shivered as if she had felt a cold blast of wind.

Then he put his hand to her chin, to get a better look into her eyes. She slapped it away.
The witch’s sister moaned and the witch in front of the Calesor, looked over his shoulder to get a good look at her sister.

“On hell’s name, I will let only two of you to live. I have already chosen you so I want you to make the choice. The angles above cry to me; telling me to kill you all, but I see something in you. So, I ignore their call. If you don’t make your choice, I will take your sister’s and mother’s lives. I am so sorry for this question but, who do you want? Your sister or your mother.” The Calesor said in her ear.

“NO!” She wailed throwing her fist on the man. But he shrugged them off. Knowing the punishment of the question. “That’s…impossible…you… are… so…cruel!” She sobbed hard for every word she could bring out.

“I have no choice.” He said.
“No your not, you don’t have to do this!” she sobbed.

She looked into his old and tired face, eyes all red and puffy do to the tears that lay scattered across the floor. Her blue eyes were gone. And the Calesor: It was a sick question; you can never split apart a mother from her daughter nor separate the sisters. Out of all the missions he had to have, he got the one that pained him the most.

“My mom killed the Speeds. She did it for our protection and to…” she cut off at the end. He knew what she was going to say.
“To teach you how to kill without using mortal violence?” he whispered.

She nodded her end. “I love my mom and my sister, can’t they-?”
“No,” He hissed and his knife would send a shock of pain back into his back. “You have just confessed the murders of the Speed Family. I don’t like killing, witch but it must be done, if I didn’t do it, who would? I have made my choice. Your judgment has been set…”

“No your not! I bet you love killing! You jerk!” she screamed at him while he walked over to her sister’s body. “DON’T TOUCH HER YOU FREAK!” She shrieked.

“Tuh, fine, I like to see you get these chains off without burning yourself. OR? I could get them off and so you and your sister can rejoice. Which one? And if you keep screaming I will kill her, so shut up!” He said in a matter of fact tone. “Freie!” He barked at the witch on the ground.

The chains on the witch slivered off her like a snake, fleeing from a horrible battle gone wrong. Clanking and rattling on the ground as it crawled up the Calesor’s leg and into the pouch.
Her sister stirred, the faint imprints on her skin where the chain had been; burned into her skin and were visible, bright red on her skin. She looked up into the Calesor’s old aged, soft eyes. She stifled a small shriek and then she looked at her sister and then at her mother. She pointed her finger at the man quickly then opened her mouth, “Sia-!”

*Crack*
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The Calesor, as he grabbed her finger and snapped it. As she had threatened him, about to cause the torture curse.

The Calesor grabbed her robe top and thrust her across the room, hearing her whine when she sled across the floor, cradling her hurt, broken finger.

The Calesor stood back up, grunting from his back pain he earned in his little battle with the witches. The Calesor looked down at the sisters, the littlest one holding her sister as the oldest wept. They were identical down to their toes, except the fact that their hair was different. The youngest now helping her oldest sister to her feet.
The red head looked at him and threw him a dirty look that bowed the old man a slow and painful death.

The twins rose to their feet, now fully standing, but swaying as they were both somewhat injured: physically and emotional. It sickened the Calesor that he was letting scum like the red head get away. But it was justice. But it would save the world and do it a big favor. But at least a teacher will be killed and banished from Earth’s surface and into hell itself.

The youngest witch coughed and the Calesor looked up from the ground. “Umm, thanks sir for sparring my and my sister’s lives.” She said weakly.

Her sister hissed menacingly and the Calesor shook his head and said in a weak, determined voice, “I am sorry this had to happen. But, I will find you and I will kill you the next time, no mercy!” The Calesor tried to keep the menace out of his voice but came out and it was harsher than he expected.

The youngest nodded and mouthed, “No mercy.”
The other shook violently.

The Calesor knew they wouldn’t get far on foot and he knew the oldest sister would want revenge. He reached into his pouch and said, “The trip might be unpleasant.” He withdrew a black powder that poured slowly from his hand like sand trying to pass the area in a sand timer. He threw it at the witches and it scattered. Then he shouted, “America!” The witches paused wondering if that was a spell. Then a wall of spiraling black and deep purple engulfed the twins.

When the wall faded, the twins had vanished. Leaving no trace that they were there.

The Calesor sighed and then reached around his back and withdrew a blade. The sound of metal sliding on hard leather pierced the house. The Calesor wielded a small dagger and walked over to the teaching witch.
“Aw Flasay Pole.” He murmured. The chains binding the witch started moving around and then opened up a spot, right over the witch’s heart area. He took a deep breath and raised the knife high into the air.




Stay tuned for…
Chapter 1:
The Chat with Shinigami