What a pretty spider!

          It had been two days since Winifred had professed her love for her sisters and given up her magic. Of course along with her magic, Sarah had felt hers slip away. It was an odd, tingly sensation, and one she didn’t understand at first, but once the realization had set in, it had made Sarah somewhat heartbroken. Now, how would she do her chore of luring in children for Winifred? She felt as though she were failing her sisters; a feeling that any reasonable person on the outside looking in, knew wasn’t of sound logic, but not to Sarah.

          And then there was the small fact that the three sisters would no longer be able to control their aging, unless the lotions at the overly bright apothecary really did work. They tasted good, but that didn’t always mean anything. The spider she munched on just yesterday tasted good, but it nearly choked her going down.

          “Sister Mary what will become of thou and thee...and Sister Winnie?” She was afraid to ask Winifred. Afraid of being punished for upsetting her sister. But the sad look on her face spoke louder than words ever could.

         While her sisters had gone to town to peruse ingredients and other necessities, she had remained behind keeping an eye on a potion that required  hours of simmering and constant stirring. She had never been particularly skillful at potion-making, that was her older sister’s domain, but she could tell when potions were ready, when the smells melded together just right.

         She heard her sisters return —she had detected their scent many feet away— Winnie first, Sarah later. but had been occupied tending the brew. It wasn’t until the youngest of the Sandersons walked past her that she took her attention away from the cauldron.

         “Sist'r, what art thou hiding?” she asked shooting her a curious glance, even though she already knew what it was —she could smell that distinct feline stench. Red lips twisted into a lopsided smile as her nose twitched. “If Winnie finds out, she shall be ireful…”

@deathlyxbeautiful cont.

          Sarah knew how spot on her sister’s sense of smell was. And as much as she didn’t want the tiny kitten to be discovered, she knew if she held it any tighter to herself, she would smother it. Instead, she kept her cape tucked tightly around them both and played dumb - something her sisters considered her to already be a pro at, “Tis nothing sister Mary. Tend to thy potions as sister Winnie asked of thee.” Her tongue was sharp and her glare even sharper as she pushed passed her middle sibling.

          Feet meeting the steps, Sarah was almost in the clear until a slight mew came from under her shawl. Stopping dead in her tracks, she froze in fear of what Mary would do. They weren’t always on the same terms with each other, and Sarah knew how spiteful the older witch could be towards her.

          A lump forming in her throat, she resumed walking up the stairs, as if nothing had happened, until another faint mew came out again. Clearing her throat, the blonde witch tried to cover the sounds of the small kitten making itself known.

    Most refreshing, the words echo in Misty’s head. Somehow she doesn’t believe that. Still, she gives a soft nod in acknowledgement and drops her gaze to keep herself from grimacing again at the thought of the arachnid wiggling until it’s crunched between teeth. 

    However, at Sarah’s question, Misty brings her gaze back up to the other witch’s and offers a kind smile. “Well, I wouldn’t say I’m a white witch, but I’m not on the side of Satan, neither.” She replies, before another thought occurs to her. “Though I ain’t got no qualms with a witch that was on the side of Satan– so long as they don’t pose me a threat, it’s not my business how they live their life and practice their magic.” She shrugs and moves forward to touch a nearby wilting flower, watching as it immediately perks up. “I’m just a simple witch who don’t want no trouble.” 

          A good witch. Not quite that of a white witch, but on the same side that destroyed her sisters.

          Sarah lowered her head and stepped back cautiously, “Is thou here to hurt me, like the witch, child, and boy who killed thy sisters?” She pulled her cape around her. Sarah didn’t have quite the same defense skills under her belt as Winifred or Mary had known. She had usually relied on the pair for protection. Her power had been to draw in children. It’s what she was good at, but there were no children around them, so she felt helpless in the situation, especially seeing the display of power shown by the woman standing in front of her.

Billy cast a small, sad smile onto Sarah.  He knew nothing about their wicked, childeating ways.  For what he saw, Sarah was all sweetness and charm compared to WInifred’s bitter, acid tongue.  Had he known then what he knew now, he’d never have gotten in this deep with the elder sister.

“What’s done is done,” he said apologetically.  His hand closed over Sarah’s small, delicate one.  Just being close to her made his breath catch in a way Winifred never could.  "I hath made a promise.  And thou knowst well thy sister’s temper.  For thy sake and mine own, I must honor my promise to her.“  But it was only too clear that it was the last thing he wanted.

          Sarah knew her sister’s wrath quite well. Often times it scared her, and she wanted nothing more than to make her sister proud. But boys were her weakness, especially kind ones who treated her like she mattered. Billy was too sweet though, and she knew Winifred would eat him alive. Sarah had to do something to save him, but she wasn’t quite sure what. And then it struck her.

If you still want to keep in touch or roleplay, you can find me here at my Becky Lynch blog. I do have a werewolf verse for her, and I’m open to creating new verses as well. Or we can always just talk, if you need an ear to listen. ♥

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, you beautiful creatures. I love you. Sarah loves you like she loves her spiders.

Talk soon!

@deathlyxbeautiful // continued from xx

    If there is one thing that Misty loves, it’s food; And the swamp witch is never afraid to try new things, always willing to give even the strangest looking foods a shot. But, as Sarah holds up a spider– it’s legs wiggling about at her from between the other’s fingers, Misty can’t help the way her nose scrunches up in slight disgust. “Uh– no, you go ahead and eat it. Thanks for offerin’ though.” 

    Misty has rubbed gator dung on her person, and yet the thought of eating a live spider causes a shiver to run down her spine. She can’t fault the other for her food choices, though– if it tastes good, it tastes good, but Misty doesn’t see herself ever wanting to try it. “I like all God’s creatures, but spiders ain’t really one of my more favorite ones.” She says, lips quirking up in a small grin. “Guess it’s somethin’ about all those eyes lookin’ back at me. What do they taste like?”

          When Misty refused the spider, Sarah shrugged her shoulders and happily popped the fuzzy many legged creature into her mouth. Biting down and feeling the crunch, the witch made sure to chew her food good as she choked down the remnants of the arachnid. Its legs, once separated from its body, still wiggled as saliva washed them down her throat. Once she had forced the bug down, she grinned, “As thy sister, Mary, would say, most refreshing.”

          Her hands naturally going to her sides; fingers tugging at her corset, she looked the woman over. There was something different about her. Something she hadn’t quite encountered with any of the other people she had come across, since returning from her second bout in Hell, “Are thee a white witch or on the side of Master Satan?” She wanted to know if she were in danger. It was one of the many lessons Winifred had ingrained into her brain. However, Sarah usually took a more honest and open approach to things with a certain innocence her other sisters lacked.

[+] Veiled with fondness, yet a stoic strength, icy fixtures observe her before stealing a fleeting peek at the candle; it hasn’t been lit. “Your sisters won’t be returning, Sarah. I didn’t use the candle to bring you back, though I would be useless to it’s curse, from what I’ve gathered of it’s history.” Sensual lips are lifted in a perpetual sneer, insinuating that purity, in any number of facets, is completely absent. Smooth footfalls bring him closer, peering upwards at the cages that hang from the ceiling; they contain the skeletons of those two boys from long ago, and he smiles with the amusement that no one had thought to look here for the two teenagers. Perhaps no one dare enter after the last event that took place here. “You’ve been spoken down to for your whole life, Sarah.. Undermined by your elder, Winifred. She’s failed to appreciate you, even after all of those children you’ve lured here for all of your benefits.” —– “You are the most dangerous of your bloodline.” And she was always jealous of your appeal to men.

          Her heart sank and her eyes fell from him hearing the news that her sisters wouldn’t be returning. That it was just her left to fend for herself in such a desolate, yet new world. However, the words Michael Langdon spoke raised her spirits. No one had ever made the claim that she was, perhaps, the most dangerous of the Sanderson blood line. She was always left to do her ‘chore’ as Winnie had called it. Lure in the children, and she would get a little piece of the reward. Gears turning in her overactive mind, she finally regained the courage to look her new leader in the face, “No one hath ever claim thee to be the most dangerous. Not even thy sister. Oh, thank you, Master Langdon.” Sarah bowed down to him and stayed low to the ground, until he gave her permission to look at him again.

Billy couldn’t meet her eye.  Her gentle fingers felt so soft and lovely on his arm, even through his jacket.  He’d made a grave mistake in choosing the wrong Sanderson sister for his own, but it was too late now.

His head felt heavy as he nodded.  “I’ve made her a promise.  I wouldst not break it.”  He wanted to.  God, how he wanted to.  But he didn’t want to think about what she might do if he spurned her.  He looked down at the lovely blonde, the picture of contrition.

Satisfaction swept through the eldest sister.  He would be faithful.  He knew what the consequences would be if he wasn’t.  And if the little trollop dared try anything, there would be hell to pay for her, too.

          It seemed Winnie had everyone under her spell. If Sarah was out sporting, and her eldest sister were around, they usually left Sarah alone. She was lonely. Perhaps it was why she often found herself sneaking out to meet up with boys. At least then, Winifred was usually nowhere to be found.

His eyes grew wide at that. Looking over the sisters as the two got closer. He was backing up quick. Trying to get away as he kept his eyes on them. Rushing towards the door or a window to get out of this house.

          It was the first time she had heard anything like it, besides the time her sister had sang out the exact same words, except this warlock had a way about him. His intent as he spoke the words were more sexual than the idea Winifred had to curse an entire town to dance until they died. No, this man just wanted to lure in his catch. Hold his prey hostage for eternity to profess his love to them.

          If he had lingered in the room with her, Sarah would have marched to him. 

          Step...step...Step...step, step, step, step in time with the music.