Wednesday, October 28, 2015

"No, I'm sorry," he said. He glanced at the floor then raised his eyes and his voice. "Look, I get it, but if you don't leave now --"

The witch Abbie laughed, "You'll what? make me mildly itchy? I know how your magic works little boy. You're nothing without your knife."

John bit the corner of his lip. He kept biting down. He kept biting down, sawing his jaw back and forth. The witch, old, tight skinned, laughed, then frowned.

The pain was unbelievable but suddenly there was a crack in his mouth and a gush of blood. John sawed at the sides and, tears streaming down his face spat blood on Abbie. "Acid," he said at her, and she began to scream and clutch at her face and eyes, where John's blood sizzled and hissed, burning and blistering her skin.

He drooled some onto the rope wrapped around his arms and chest. "Acid," he said, wincing preemptively. His acid blood burned through the ropes and he unwrapped his legs and stood up.

He stepped over the body of the witch Abbie, shrieking writhing on the ground.
"I'm sorry," he said and