| |
You see, I haven't always been this way—hovering in the margins of time, teetering on the edge of reality and myth.
Once, I had a life as mundane as any, born in a small village that history has long since forgotten. They called us savages, but we were nothing of the sort. The name of my village isn't important; it has been devoured by the sands of time, as have the lives that filled it.
Yet my life was irrevocably altered when he entered it. Jezreel. Jezreel Banks.
I was but a child when we met him, a creature of innocence unaware of the world's true horrors. It was the morning of my tenth birthday when Jezreel arrived in our village. With his fine coat and eloquent words, he charmed our elders quite easily.
But I saw something in his eyes—a dark glimmer that unsettled me even then.
Perhaps it was my perceptiveness that drew him to me, or perhaps it was something else entirely. All I know is that by sunset, I had been given to this man and transformed.
No longer merely a child, but something else altogether. Later, I would know what I was, what they called me.
A familiar. Bound in servitude to Jezreel. Bound to share in his macabre destiny.
The transformation was both terrifying and transcendent. Imagine your very essence being untangled, then rewoven into something entirely different. As his familiar, I became privy to his deepest secrets, his most intimate thoughts, and his unutterable desires. Luckily for me, his most depraved desires were focused on one unfortunate woman, the beautiful Ann Munney.
Jezreel was convinced that she was his soul’s twin flame. That they were destined to be together, through each lifetime. And in each of those lifetimes he would subjugate her, dominate her.
Ultimately, he would kill her just as he destroyed everything that he “loved.”
After his demise, I remained trapped in my curse. Still a familiar, but for no master. A few had recognized me for what I was but in these modern times, fewer still understood what I could do.
For centuries, I moved through history like a shadow, haunting the tapestry of human events yet never fully part of it.
I have seen cities rise and crumble, watched men crowned as kings and executed, witnessed the ebb and flow of human triumph and misery—all through eyes that should have closed ages ago.
So, when I found myself back in Crestwood, when I sensed his malevolent presence once more, I knew I had a choice to make. To confront him and end this once and for all, or to run and let history repeat itself in its cruelest form.
The lives he ruined—with my help, weighed on me, each one a stone tied to my ever-burdened soul. Eventually, I would find a way to sever our bond forever, and free myself from his dark influence.
Yet, freedom has its own cost, and I've been paying it ever since.
The decision was an easy one to make.
There was a rush, a sensation of being torn from one form and catapulted into another. Fur and fang gave way to flesh and bone. My paws, now hands, touched the ground as I found my balance. I stood up, wearing the guise of a woman—a form I hadn't taken in what felt like lifetimes. But it always felt that way. I was relieved to be human again.
Jezreel's eyes widened as he backed toward the well, his incantations stuttering into silence.
"Impossible," he snarled. “Lolowyn! You are mine to command!”
I took a step forward. "Ah, Jezreel, still living in the realm of possibilities? I thought you'd have learned by now. Or does one learn nothing while rotting in the grave?"
His eyes, pits of endless darkness, flared in recognition and rage. "You, bitch! You dare defy me?"
"Yes, I dare. Your faithful familiar, no longer at your beck and call. Look at me, Jezreel. Look at what centuries of your malign influence have created."
With each step toward him, I felt the power in me surge, filling the space between us. Jezreel was now dangerously close to the well, his feet practically teetering near its ominous edge.
Oh, that would be sweet revenge. I smiled at the idea. Nature’s plan was beginning to unfold. I followed and obeyed nature. She had been a good mistress to me.
"You stand accused, Jezreel Banks. As witness to all your evil deeds, I accuse you. Accused of malevolence, of bending the fabric of nature to obey your sick whims. Accused of the murders of countless souls. Nature testifies against you!"
I began to list the names, a roll call of the damned. "Sarah Williams, Eleanor Thompson, Marcus Brown, Emily Goodwin, Ann Munney..."
With each name, Jezreel recoiled as if struck, growls of defiance ripping through his throat.
"You think you can accuse me?" He spat the words out, as if they left a vile taste in his mouth. "You who served me? You who acted on my commands?"
I took another step, the tips of my toes almost touching his. "That was centuries ago. I served you when I was enslaved to you. But understand this, Jezreel Banks. You took too long. You are too late in coming back. I am your familiar no longer."
His eyes flared with a malevolence that could scorch souls. He opened his mouth, perhaps to command me, to reduce me back to the servitude from which I had fought so hard to escape. I would have none of it!
The power gathered in my hands felt like swirling orbs of destruction, each one a note in a symphony of retribution. As I raised them, I found his eyes, dark orbs that had once held sway over me.
This was it; I was ready to push him into the abyss below.
But in that moment, his hands reached for me as well—long fingers hooked like talons, eyes glowing like coals. A split-second decision, and I acted.
My body shifted again; bones compressing, muscles reconfiguring. I felt my human form waver and collapse inward, fur bursting forth as paws returned.
Alex’s shout seemed to rip through time and space, “Lolo! Get out of the way!”
I landed as a panther, my padded paws striking the soft earth in perfect silence, just as Jezreel lunged forward.
He clutched at air, his scream splitting the night. But it was another sound that dominated the tableau: a cacophony from below, a roar that could belong to no earthly creature.
It was Wormwood.
Jezreel's body twisted in the air as he plummeted, his face a mask of final, horrifying realization. And as he descended, a pair of massive, shadowy arms emerged from the inky blackness of the well. Each arm was a grotesque amalgamation of elements: gnarled like ancient roots, crackling like fire, shifting like quicksand, and flowing like water—Wormwood was an abomination, an elemental antithesis of nature.
The arms enveloped Jezreel, who was now too far gone to resist. For a split second, their eyes met. If Jezreel had imagined an eternity of darkness, he found something far worse in Wormwood’s gaze—an eternity of suffering.
With a resounding crunch that seemed to echo across dimensions, the arms tightened. Wormwood pulled Jezreel into the well, a final scream silenced as they both disappeared into the unfathomable depths.
It was done. My former master was no more, consumed by the very evil he had nurtured.
And as I turned back, velvet paws carrying me away from the well, Alex’s words lingered in my mind.
Get out of the way.
Yes, it was time for me to get out of the way. Time for the humans—Clara, Ben, Emily, and even tormented Alex—to shape their own destinies. My role here was finished.
For now.
