355 Reads | Published over 3 years ago
Like a dream, it begins again.
The wandering spirit know as the Porcelain Witch was whole once again.
Her cracked visage opens wide her featureless eyes in complete shock.
She had a body again.
A body made of porcelain, no doubt about it. But it still was a body. Before her, the old king. Her cursed enemy.
He was dressed in royal colors. Red and navy blue.
A tear flows through the witch. Even in her oblivion, she dearly missed the warm comfort of colors.
The king spoke words, but the Witch wouldn't listen to him.
Her hair extends as if it was a lance, it pierced through the king and his ambition.
Soon, the red of his coat was of the same color of the red of her hair, or the red on the floor.
Soon, his navy blue pants were ripped apart and the Witch would drink the blue out of existence.
The hand of sin had awaken the Witch's appetites yet again.
The realm entered a new age of darkness.