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Witch of the Water
Witch of the Water10 Years AgoHi everyone! My name is Kyle Wieczorek and I just joined Writer's Café last week, and I'm just getting used to how the website works. I recently self published a short story I titled "Witch of the Water" to Amazon Kindle Direct several months ago, and I'm having a hard time getting my work noticed and reviewed. The story is sort of a backdrop for the sea witch of The Little Mermaid, and helps explain some of her dark origins, as to why she was exiled and took up the hobby of soul collecting. I've included the prologue of my story, which is told in first person from the witch's perspective. The story in it's entirety can be found on Amazon and the Amazon Kindle website. Any feedback, positive or negative would be greatly appreciated, and I will return the favor by reviewing your work. Thanks!
The dark cauldron hissed and churned, oozing a putrid, bile smelling odor as I dropped the last ingredient into the bubbling potion. The spell book at my side lay open, yet remained unread. I had no need to examine the ancient script; I had performed this particular curse countless times. Closing my eyes, I began chanting from memory, and instantly, the energy around me grew stronger, until it crackled and fizzled. I felt the spirits of the great sea gods, the Ancient Ones, the rulers of the seven seas, seep into my being as the incantation spilled from my lips, ricocheting off the walls of my murky lair, joining the tormented pleas of the damned, the fury of the very ocean itself. My eyes fluttered open to be greeted by the dismal bluish-green of my exile. Dark coral reefs had long taken over the small space, and light rarely made its way to the darkest depths of the ocean floor, to the belly of Scylla, the long-dead sea goddess in whom I made my home. Once my predecessor, now, my shelter. The gloomy water around me echoed with pleas, desperate cries for help. Most of them had stopped their screaming long ago, when they realized that it was useless, but a few imbeciles still believed they had a sliver of a chance. I had become used to their pathetic rantings eons ago; now, they were background noise, if that. Pushing my weight against my thick tentacles, green as the seaweed beneath me, I slowly turned to face them, churning the seabed sand in my wake. Along my carven walls were lined thousands of shells, of every shape, texture, and color, that held my precious collection, my souls, the souls of damned. The vast array of shells exuded a dim glow across the cavern, casting an eerie illumination over the thick molding coral and decaying bones. The new ones were always the most defiant, flashing and glowing brighter than the rest, flickering in their rage. But soon they would realize their struggles were futile, grow tired, and fall silent like the others. You see, they come to me, the merfolk, when they have given up all hope. I have heard their stories of woe. I have heard the despair of the desperate, helped the most hopeless of the hopeless. I listen, and I give them whatever their pathetic little hearts so desperately desire: love, wealth, power. They seek me out for my potions and enchantments, and I give them exactly what they ask for. But, of course, everything comes with a price now, doesn’t it? They say I am a sorceress. A goddess of the dark arts. A demon of the ocean. I am the Sea Witch. I am Cecaelian, half mermaid, half squid, a hideous beast forced to crawl and slither across the ocean floor. The screams and protests began to die down, and I turned from my collection and back to my simmering concoction, catching a quick glimpse of my reflection on its shiny surface. Two yellow serpentine eyes gazed menacingly back at me out of leathery, pale greenish skin, such as one might find on a corpse. Long, coarse white hair hung stiffly against my back with a roughness that no amount of combing could soften. I felt the cool wet scales of my Pet glide across my midsection; the sea serpent paused for a moment before carefully wrapping her sleek body around my waist. Then, she relaxed, loosened her reddish coils, and affectionately nuzzled her head against my chin. I stroked her head gently, just beneath her mouth, how she liked it. Her long forked tongue flickered in and out, and she motioned towards the entryway across the dim cavern. I could feel the reluctant presence lingering in the doorway, behind the dark coral, even before his quivering shadow came into view. My eyes flickered to life, and I continued to stroke my Pet. "Looks like another customer, Pet." A devious smile snaked along my cracked lips. I ran my tongue along the bottom row of my broken, yellowed teeth, trailing it along their razor-sharp edges. "We mustn’t keep him waiting." In times of great desperation, one can do irrational things she may have never felt capable of doing, sacrifice great things she may have never thought could be sacrificed. There is true evil in this world, and that evil is power. Once, I hungered for power, and I sold my soul to the sea for more of it. I wasn’t always this hideous demon creature, exiled to an eternity of damnation and isolation. My skin wasn’t always rough and leathery, pale green, the color of decay and death; my eyes used to be a beautiful hazel, and radiate with life, not vengeance. I used to gracefully swim the seven seas, not be forced to slither along their bottoms. No, I was once a mermaid, like the rest, with more than what I have now, but not quite enough. I was Sequana, and I had a twin sister, Sedena, and a brother, Cetus. That was before I discovered power, before I sacrificed everything to the dark powers of the sea to get what I thought I wanted. Before the dark arts claimed me and made me theirs. Before the greed infected me, seeping into my soul like a dark, inky poison. My Pet slowly unwound her long, constricting body from my embrace, stretching herself to her full length, and floated towards the entryway to greet our new customer. |
