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The Elders (Halloween Havoc no. 18)

by Sigma

I

“Blast it all!” Sara Kraft cursed as she ran through the ancient ruins. The pack on her back was heavy with stolen treasure and she clutched a pistol in each hand. The busty Brit’s chest heaved as she turned and let loose a few rounds into the dark, but that did nothing to stop the advance of the risen dead on her heels. Some fell under her barrage, but the horde still came.

Sara leapt over a fallen column and moved toward what the map she had committed to memory said was a doorway. She then slid to a stop when she saw the doorway. It was there, but it was blocked with rubble from a partially collapsed ceiling.

“No!” she screamed in sudden panic. She then turned around and fired more rounds, putting down more of the dead. They collapsed and more came, carrying rusted blades as they advanced on her. She looked around for a way to escape, but her back was to the wall and the dead stood between her and escape. She then chuckled. “Well...I guess that’s it…” she said. “Fucking hell…”

As one tide, the dead moved on her and swarmed. She screamed and threw punches and kicks, trying to hold them back, but they dragged her down, pinning her under their bulk. She screamed defiantly in her last moments until there was a bright flash, followed by the crack of thunder.

The dead burst into dust and Sara stared up, her chest heaving and heart racing as she saw someone stand over her. The woman was tall with dark hair. She wore a skimpy, black leather outfit with a blood red cap and her dark hair was tied in an up-do. She smirked and looked down at the busty treasure hunter.

“Nightmare Witch?!” Sara said. “What are you doing here?”

Nightmare Witch helped her stand. “Fixing your mistake, you fool,” she scoffed. “You have no idea what you’ve awakened.

“What?” Sara asked.

“You’ve awakened something terrible and you’re going to help me put it back to sleep. Let’s go.”

Sara shrugged and started following Nightmare Witch until the Witch paused and looked at the pack. “Can I have that, please?”

Sara looked at the bag and then gave it to her. Nightmare Witch threw the bag into the darkness and it landed somewhere distant with a clatter.

“Hey!”

“Those don’t belong to you,” Nightmare Witch said. She then turned and raised her hand. A burst of energy erupted and cleared out the doorway, opening a path. “Come on,” she said as they continued onward.

II

Nightmare Witch led them deeper into the complex of the ruined city, their way lit by a glowing orb of light that she summoned. They moved through cavernous halls, empty spaces long lost to time.

“This architecture is amazing…” Sara said. “But none of it resembles what we know about ancient Anatolia.”

“It’s from a lost age,” Nightmare Witch explained. “One no history book that you’d know of mentions.”

“What?” Sara said. “How do you know that?”

“Because it’s the age I was born in,” she answered.

“Honestly?” Sara asked. “Wait...you were born in Ancient Anatolia?”

“I was born and raised on the very ground that we walk. It was a very long time ago.”

“Obviously! I need to hear this tale.”

Nightmare Witch looked at the treasure hunter and shrugged. “We have a ways to go, so why not?”

***

Thousands of years ago. 

“Look, girl, or you will share the same fate.”

The young woman dug her fingers into the dirt under her. She choked back a sob and refused to look up until a hand grabbed her hair and forced her to look up. A few feet in front of her, two armed soldiers carrying spears each held the arm of a petite, dark haired woman who had been beaten just moments before. They stood before an open pit and the woman was slumped over. She lifted her head of dark hair and looked at the girl.

“Don’t cry, Nevra,” the woman said. “I go forth without fear and I want the same for my daughter.” A warm smile crossed her face before she turned a heated gaze on the man who held the girl’s hair. He was a big man, with a black, bushy beard and a bald head. He was powerfully built and wore a great sword at his hip.

“And you, tyrant!” the woman said. “I have seen the ruin you cause and I have seen your end. Your kingdom will crumble soon enough! Those profane gods you worship will not save you,” she spat. “No one will remember the name Vahid! This, I swear!” 

“Cast the witch into the labyrinth,” Vahid ordered his men.

Without ceremony, the soldiers shoved the woman into the pit. She fell, screaming, until her cries faded into the darkness.

“Mother!” Nevra jumped up and ran, screaming. Vahid grabbed her and threw her to the ground.

“She deserves nothing less!” Vahid said.

When Nevra got up, Vahid wrapped a meaty hand around her neck and began choking her. “That whore of a mother of yours worked against me and it cost her her life. If I find you have the same inclinations, you will be joining her,” he threatened.

Nevra looked him in the eye, trying her hardest to fight back the tears. She clawed at the big man, beat her fists against his iron-like muscles, and tried to break free even as she struggled to breathe. Vahid smirked and squeezed harder. He hooked a big finger in the collar of Nevra’s robe and pulled, partially exposing her petite body – slim waist, small tits, lean body.

“Your mother shared my bed before she poisoned me, girl. But as she found out, Vahid does not succumb to death so easily. After beating her, I took her, over and over, and then I gave her to my men. Cross me the same way she did, and you will share the same fate,” he threatened. He dropped her and stepped over her. “Throw the animal back into her cage,” he ordered his men.

***

Sara listened intently as Nightmare Witch recounted her early history. “So, your name is Nevra?”

“I shed that name a long time ago,” Nightmare Witch said. “Those years under Vahid’s boot where hard and once I escaped, I wanted to rid myself of everything that connected me to them.”

“What about your mother? Who was she?”

“I’ve long since forgotten her name,” Nightmare Witch admitted. “But she was a seer and someone Vahid kept close. She never told me she planned on poisoning him, so I don’t know why she did it. But he built his empire on the bones of others, and I believe Vahid killed people she loved. That day he cast her into the labyrinth, I knew I had to struggle to survive no matter what. And it was not long after that, that my chance came.”

***

Nevra sat in the corner of a cell with her knees to her chest. The dingy floor was littered with bones. Her stomach rumbled, her throat was parched, and fatigue threatened to overtake her. She looked up when the door opened and two of the guards tossed someone else in.

She was a tall woman, busty with long, curly hair and dark skin. Her curvy body bore the bruises and marks of recent battle and Nevra noticed the guards did as well. One had a black eye and the other was missing several teeth. The woman let out a shout and charged at the guards but they slammed the door shut and walked away.

“Dogs!” The woman spat. “Your heads will belong to Mitra, along with that tyrant, Vahid!” Mitra swore. She beat her fist against the door and then huffed and turned away, pausing when she realized she wasn’t alone.

Nevra stared at her in awe and sat up straight as the warrior woman approached her. She extended a hand. “You should always stand tall, girl. Not curled up in a corner like a beaten animal.”

Nevra hesitated for a moment but took her hand. Mitra’s skin was warm, her grip strong. She practically lifted Nevra off the ground with one hand and clapped her on the shoulder.

“Wh...who are you?” Nevra asked.

“I am Mitra. My warband and I came into conflict with Vahid and his men. We saw what he was doing to the people of this land and tried to stop him, but his power proved too great,” she recounted. “I’m all that’s left, but I swear I will have that fool’s heart before I draw my last breath.”

Nevra couldn’t stop staring at her. At the healthy, womanly curves of her body, and the power contained in her taut, lean limbs. As Mitra fumed on her situation Nevra reached out, touching the woman’s arm. She gently traced her small hand up, cupping the woman’s right tit. She squeezed the soft flesh, first with one hand, then with both, and felt something in herself as she did.

Mitra, instead of pushing the girl away, smiled and grabbed her wrists gently. She pulled her in close and looked down. “You’re afraid, but also intrigued. You don’t need to be afraid of me. Do you understand?”

Nevra simply nodded.

Mitra chuckled and touched the side of Nevra’s face. “There are others, slaves like you, yes?”

Nevra nodded again. “In the other cells...my mother was one, until Vahid killed her. I’m not even sure how long ago that was now…”

“Do the slaves outnumber Vahid’s men?”

“By at least three times,” Nevra said.

“But they are not all women, children, and the elderly correct? When Vahid’s dogs dragged me here, I saw strong men erecting buildings.”

Nevra nodded. “The men are made strong by daily labor building this city and its temples and statues all in the worship of the dark powers that give Vahid their patronage. Vahid watches the working men closely, of course. He keeps them complacent by offering better food, sport, and our bodies to them…”

“Then I shall offer them the blood of their oppressors,” Mitra said. “But tonight, I will offer you warmth.” She smiled at Nevra and pulled her again close. Nevra rested her tired head against Mitra’s warm tit and Mitra wrapped her strong arms around the girl. Nevra sighed and traced her finger across Mitra’s skin when she noticed a mark on her chest.

“What is this? It looks like a crow.”

“A birthmark, and a blessing of a god of my people.” Mitra answered.  “It is indeed a crow. Just as that clever bird swoops down on unsuspecting insects, I will swoop down and take that fool Vahid’s life.” She then put her hand to Nevra’s chin and looked her in the eye. “But enough of that for now…” She leaned in and kissed the girl. Nevra was surprised at first, but quickly grew comfortable and put her hands on Mitra’s shapely hips.

Their tongues intertwined and Mitra held Nevra closer. She reached around and squeezed the girl’s small, perky ass. Without warning, Mitra picked Nevra up and pressed her back against the wall. Their bodies were one as they kissed and fondled and became lost in each other. Nevra wrapped her thing legs around Mitra’s narrow waist and Mitra pulled her away from the wall and lay her down on the floor of the dungeon. As they continued to kiss, the towering warrior woman slid her hand down Nevra’s body, gently inserting two fingers into her.

Nevra moaned into Mitra’s mouth, her body shivered, and she arched her back and cried out as Mitra slowly thrust her fingers in an out. Mitra used her thumb to toy with the girl’s clit and Nevra shuddered and bit Mitra’s lip. Mitra was gentle, steady, taking care to make sure Nevra felt nothing but pleasure as she penetrated her. Nevra dug her nails into Mitra’s supple skin and wiggled under the woman’s weight. Pleasure overwhelmed her mind as she could only focus on Mitra’s taste, feel, and smell. The dungeon floor was cold under her naked back, but her whole body was warm as Mitra pushed deep into her. She felt the soft meat of the woman’s tit in her right hand and felt herself coming closer to the edge.

Her muscles tightened, she gasped as she clutched whatever part of Mitra’s body she was holding. He juices flowed freely while Mitra gave one last thrust, pressing down hard and kissing her at the same time. Mitra then sat up as Nevra lay back, mouth agape, and breathed heavily. Her small, perky tits heaved with breath while she looked at Mitra, who simply smiled at her.

***

“Oh my…” Sara said, unconsciously touching herself while Nightmare Witch recounted the story of the first time she and Mitra were together.

“She was a very...shall I say...unique...woman,” Nightmare Witch said with a nostalgic smile. “But...Vahid...that pig, realized it too. His men soon came for Mitra and took her away. She was Vahid’s plaything, night after night. But her will was indomitable and he could not break her. When she returned to the cells, we spoke quietly with the other slaves, and Mitra, through her skills as a leader, began to foment resentment for Vahid and his people. Planning was slow but soon, the day to act came…”

“So the slaves revolted?”

“Not quite…”

***

“Little cunt!” Vahid roared as the back of his hand struck Nevra hard across the face.

She cried out, hitting the dirt ground and held the part of her face that stung as tears welled up in her eyes. She looked ahead to where some of Vahid’s men had Mitra on her knees, naked and in chains. Just beyond them, men and woman were tied to crosses, their bodies bearing the mark of the lash. They were all slaves, men and women who had joined Mitra’s cause.

Vahid grabbed Nevra by her hair. “Did you really think I wouldn’t learn about your little revolt?” He laughed. “The shadows, they whisper to me because I command it. I knew everything,” he said. With one hand, he lifted a struggling Nevra by her hair and off the ground. He then pointed his sword, cruel looking and caked in fresh blood, at Mitra. “You, foreign whore, threatened to take what is rightfully mine. I should take your life for it!”

“Not even Hell will protect you from my wrath, Vahid!” Mitra said to him.

Vahid smiled. “Taking your life will be too easy, it seems.” He then looked at Nevra while carrying her over to the hole into the Labyrinth, a gaping, dark pit that seemed like it stretched on forever. “Instead, I will take what you hold dearest.”

“Vahid! Don’t you dare!” Mitra screamed, fighting to run to Nevra.

Vahid simply dropped Nevra and she fell, screaming, into the pit.

***

Sometime later, Nevra woke with a start. “Hello?!” she screamed, only to hear her echo. The darkness was so thick, so impenetrable, that she could barely see her own hand in front of her face. She pushed herself up on her arms, and then her legs. Excruciating pain then shot through her right leg, a sensation that she knew, instinctively, told her it was broken. A chill then ran across her bare skin. It was not a mere draft, but the kind of bone-chilling cold that Nevra knew was not of this world.

Despite the pain, she surged to her feet and stayed off her right foot. She hopped on her left foot forward, though she couldn’t see. She fondled in the dark, trying to find a hard surface to prop her up while she moved. The pain threatened to make her pass out, but the sudden fear that gripped her kept her moving.

Whispers came out of the darkness. A woman’s wails, a child’s laughter, a man’s yelling. They all assaulted Nevra and, as she stumbled through the dark, the earthly sounds gave way to another host that assaulted her senses.

Profane whispers, deep throated laughter, padded feet running toward her, away from her. She heard claws scrap against stone, and she yelped and wept as tiny, razor-sharp teeth nipped at her injured leg. This spurred her on faster. The ground under her bare foot was warm, covered in some sort of thick membrane, and seemed to heave as though life moved through it. She continued reaching out, trying to find a wall to orient herself. She fell, her left leg muscles protesting in fatigue and refusing to hold her up any more. She screamed and pitched to the side, only for her outstretched hand to hit a vertical surface.

She had found a wall, but it too was covered in membrane and seemed as though it pulsed with life underneath.

And then, she felt a presence in the darkness. A malevolent intelligence hovering in the air, staring at her. The hairs on her arms stood up, the watcher in the dark uttered something in an alien tongue, barely audible, and despair gripped Nevra as she fell to her knees, her broken leg burning and her body aching. Tears streamed down her face and her shoulders shook as she sobbed.

“Mitra...help…” she wept.

Then hands, small, thin, cold, reached out and grabbed her shoulders. Nevra screamed until she realized their touch was non-threatening. A presence behind her breathed and whispered in her ear.

“Don’t cry, Nevra.”

Nevra recognized the voice instantly and looked up. “Mother?!”

“You are home, child…” Nevra’s mother said in a raspy whisper. The Elders have chosen you to receive their gift. Be not afraid.”

“M...mother…” Nevra’s voice shook. “What’s happening? How are you alive? What is this place?”

No answer came.

“Mother…?” Nevra asked, still feeling the hands on her shoulders.  She then screamed, half in pain, half in surprise, when the hands on her shoulders tightened their grip like a vise and pulled her into the dark.

***

“Your mother was in the Labyrinth...after all that time…?” Sara asked with a gasp.

“That thing in the pit was not mother,” Nightmare Witch said. “Vahid garnered the favor of all sorts of dark entities, and their progeny roamed those black halls freely. Anyone cast into that maw simply became prey…”

“So what happened to you…?”

“I became something more…and in time, I would reemerge as the woman who stands before you today. ”

***

“Ugh! Damn these blackened tunnels!” Mitra roared. She stumbled into a cavernous space. She held a sword stained with black blood in one hand and an equally stained axe in the other. Her muscular, curvy body bore bruises, claw marks, and other signs of recent battle, and her naked breasts heaved with labored breath. The room she was in appeared to be a central chamber, lit but ghostly light.

The ceiling was high, the floor of natural stone was cold, and the space was built around a large circular well.

“Vahid’s Labyrinth goes ever deeper it seems…” she sighed. “My poor Nevra...what happened to you? I couldn’t even find a body to properly mourn,”  Mitra whispered to herself, wiping her eyes. “Damn that Vahid!” The warrior woman looked across the well to see three massive statues. One was a human shaped ghoul with a spiked crown on his head and an emaciated body. One was towering and muscular, with a featureless face. In his hands he held what looked an eye with three pupils on it. The third statue was that of a shapeless mass with outstretched tendrils. Mitra stared in disgusted awe at the three entities. “What sort of madness is this…?”

“BARBARIAN WHORE!” a voice bellowed. The door to the chamber burst inward and Vahid barged in, massive, stained sword in hand. His eyes were filled with rage, his body bore many fresh scars and wounds scored by sword and arrow, and he gritted his teeth as he set eyes on Mitra. “You turn my subjects against me! Tear down my temples! Burn my kingdom to ash. And now you disrespect the Elders themselves!”

Mitra smirked and held up her weapons. “I told you I would be your ruin, tyrant. The fires of revolution are cleansing your stain on the land.” She pointed her sword at him. “A voice guided me to this place, led me through the hell of your labyrinth, and brought me to this final confrontation. My gods protect me this day.”

Vahid looked at the crow-shaped mark on her breast. “A weakling compared to the Elders. But you will see that soon enough!” He yelled as he charged at her. The two warriors clashed weapons. Steel against steel, muscle against muscle, hatred against hatred. Vahid had the size advantage, but if Mitra worried, it didn’t show on her face. Their weapon clashes rang throughout the chamber, as did their curses and grunts. The tide turned when Mitra found herself on the backfoot as Vahid corralled her close to the edge of the well that took much much of the chamber’s floor space. She stood near the edge with their weapons locked, one foot half-off the edge. She chanced a look back into the opening behind her and realized the darkness in the well wasn’t space, it was a thick, still liquid.

“Your end is here, filth,” Vahid gloated. He slammed his head hard into her face and Mitra groaned under the blow. Her sword clattered against the ground and her axe sank into that murky liquid. She teetered over the edge until Vahid grabbed her by her hair and threw her back, away from the well. Mitra lay on the ground, shuddering and holding her injured nose. She looked back as Vahid impaled his sword in the stone ground and eyed her naked body while licking his lips.

“I think I will take you one last time before I kill you.”

Mitra surged to her feet only to get put back down when Vahid punched her hard across the face. Her vision swam and her head rang and the tyrant smiled as he kicked her in the ribs and made her roll over on her naked back. When Mitra’s vision began to clear, she saw that the tyrant was naked, his stiffened cock standing between his muscular legs. She cried out as he penetrated her, and then gagged and he wrapped his meaty hands around her slim neck. She gripped his wrists, trying to pry them off, and when that didn’t work, she tried punching him, but Vahid laughed, batted her efforts aside, and slapped her hard across the face for her trouble.

He pinned her down, thrusting his cock deep while keeping his hands around her neck. Her tits bounced. She grunted and clawed at him, trying to break free, but Vahid simply laughed and looked her up and down with a maniacal look in his eyes.

“All that time you spent in my bed and being given to my men, it’s a shame I could not tame you, woman,” Vahid said as she forced her to spread her legs farther so he could push deeper. “I suppose it no longer matters. Soon enough, you’ll be in hell with that little cunt and her mother!”

Mitra could feel her mind slipping along with her life as Vahid tightened his grip and thrust harder. Her body grew weak and, despite herself, the bastard made her orgasm. Vahid laughed and pulled out his still stiff cock as Mitra lay on her back, muscular legs spread and pussy dripping. He stroked himself and emptied his balls on her tits and face and Mitra lay helpless, reaching out for her sword, which may as well have been on the other side of the chamber. She then let out an earsplitting scream when she felt sharp metal pierce her abdomen.

Vahid stood back up, holding a bloody knife that he tossed aside. “You are going to die here, and I am going to bring those slaves to heel. One by one, if I must.” He smirked and turned away to retrieve his sword and clothing.

“It is you who is going to die here, tyrant,” a woman’s voice echoed. Vahid looked around in startled surprise but couldn’t find the speaker. He then turned turned toward the well as its surface bubbled. Mitra sat up, holding the fatal wound in her abdomen as she struggled to simply stay conscious.

A figure rose from those black depths, a tall, curvy woman with flowing dark hair and fiery red eyes. Her naked body was sculpted perfection. Both Vahid and Mitra stared at her in disbelief as she hovered above the well before moving forward and setting bare, delicate feet on the chamber’s floor.

“Who in the hells are you?” Vahid asked.

But Mitra knew, on instinct, when she looked at the woman. “...Nevra…”

Vahid turned to Mitra and then stared at the reborn Nevra. “What is the meaning of this?! How are you alive?!”

Nevra looked at him with contempt, but said nothing. Vahid grabbed his sword, roared and charged at Nevra, but she thrust her hand out and invisible force slammed into the tyrant, throwing him back and knocking the weapon from his hand.

Vahid slammed his fist into the ground, making it shake. “You dare! In the presence of the Elders themselves, no less!”

Nevra looked at the statues for a few quiet moments and then turned to Vahid and shrugged. “The Elders have abandoned you.”

Vahid growled and got up. Just as he did, a portal burst open behind him, a tear in reality that took the shape of swirling, red energy. He backed away from it on instinct and panic crossed his face as he heard chittering laughter. Several female demons emerged, tall, lithe, with fangs, claws, and horns. They set hungry black eyes on Vahid and swarmed him, clawing at his muscular bulk as they dragged him to the ground. He let out a shrill, panicked scream as he tried to fight them off. In his lowest moment, he screamed for Mitra and Nevra to help him, and his cries faded as the demonic host dragged him into the portal. It then closed behind them.

Nevra smirked and stepped over to the wounded Mitra, who watched the scene in grim amusement.

“Well, I suppose that’s that,” Mitra said, breathing heavily, sweat building on her forehead. She turned to Nevra. “I’m sure the tale behind this is an interesting one. You can tell me all about it once we leave this accursed place.”

Nevra knelt next to her and looked down before seemingly forcing herself to look Mitra in the eye. “Only one of us will be leaving this place.”

“...What?” Mitra asked.

Nevra looked back at the statues. “The Elders stripped Vahid of their favor and bestowed it on me. They have designs on this world that he was not suited for.”

“You made a pact with those monsters?!” Mitra screamed. “Why?!”

“To survive…” Nevra told her, looking at the wound. “You’re dying...but you don’t have to.”

Mitra looked at her with rage in her eyes and an understanding that dawned on her. “Better to die than be on the leash of those horrors!”

Nevra reached up and touched the side of Mitra’s face. “You aren’t going to have a choice…”

Mitra watched her. Rage turned to fear and her lip quivered. “What have you done, Nevra?!”

Nevra looked at the statues again. “The Elders demand a strong soul once a generation to be sated, else they will plunge the world into darkness. I can’t let that happen.”

Mitra looked at the statues and tried to get up, but Nevra forced her back down. “You bitch!” she screamed. “I came to save you and you damn me like this?!”

Nevra simply lowered her head, then leaned in and kissed Mitra on the lips. She reveled in her warmth and sweetness for several long moments before pulling away. “I’m sorry. I love you.” And then she stood and grabbed Mitra by her hair.

“NEVRA!” Mitra screamed, kicking and fighting as she was dragged across the chamber floor to the well. “Gods damn you! I will not forget this!” she yelled defiantly as Nevra cast her into the well. Mitra screamed, raged, and cried out as spectral hands reached up, grabbing at every inch of her exposed body, and dragged her into the abyssal, murky depths below.

III

Sara Kraft stared at Nightmare Witch in disbelief. “You sacrificed her…?”

“I did what I had to,” Nightmare Witch said coldly. They stood now in the same central chamber, deep beneath the ruins and well past the now quiet and desolate halls of the Labyrinth.

“I just…” Sara started. “To do that to someone you say you loved…”

“I did love her!” Nightmare Witch snapped before composing herself. “But you do not know what I saw when the Elders took me and made me who I am. They are far beyond any force you know. Meeting their demands is the only way to spare the world from their madness.”

Sara turned and looked up at the statues, noting four of them. “Wait a moment...I thought you said the Elders were three. There are four statues here.”

Nightmare Witch stepped forward and pointed to the emaciated figure. “The Hollow Lord.” She pointed to the figure holding the three-pupiled eye. “The Sightless One.” She pointed to the shapeless mass. “The Hungering Void.”

The fourth was a woman, hairless, with curvy features and large, feathery wings reaching upward from her back. He hands and feet were talons and she bore a muscular physique. “That is the Crow Queen.” Nightmare Witch said.

“Ah…” Sara said, looking away due to the unease looking at the statues caused. “You said they’ve awakened. How do we stop them?”

“The same way I did when I gave them Mitra. The same way I’ve been doing for centuries,” Nightmare Witch explained, putting a hand on Sara’s shoulder.

Realization sank in instantly, but too late as Nightmare Witch grabbed Sara by her throat and lifted her up.

“No!” the busty Brit gasped, beating and kicked at Nightmare Witch to try and get free.

“They demand a strong soul once a generation, and as it happens, any Aphrodite will do,” Nightmare Witch explained as she carried her captive to the well. “To think, I had planned on luring Americana or any one of those other twits here this time. That you happened to already be in the area was just good luck.”

“Nevra!” Sara pleaded. “Don’t do this! Please!”

“Do not call me that!” Nightmare Witch snarled, squeezing tighter.

Sara choked under her grip and then stared at the fourth statue, the one called the Crow Queen. “Th….that’s Mitra!”

Without another word, Nightmare Witch threw Sara into the well. She screamed and sank beneath the thick surface, only to emerge seconds later. She reached up, trying to claw her way out, but hands rose from the depths, grabbed her tits, her hair, her face and arms, and pulled her under.

Nightmare Witch stood and watched as the surface settled and went still after several moments. She then looked up when she felt a presence behind her. “It’s done.” She turned around to find the Elders standing behind her, in the flesh.

The Hollow Lord approached her and put a withered hand on her shoulder. “Continue to serve us well, Witch of Nightmares, and you may do as you please. We will stay our hand from this world. As agreed.” He then turned and walked away, fading into thin air as he went. The Sightless One nodded to her and walked away and vanished. The Hungering Void hovered for several seconds before its form then faded from sight.

Only the Crow Queen remained, her black wings folded behind her. She approached Nightmare Witch and touched the side of her face. Nightmare Witch took a deep breath and looked down until the winged woman made her look her in her black eyes.

“I have not forgotten what you did to me, Nevra…” The Crow Queen said. “The others may have elevated me to be like them, but Mitra’s heart still beats in this chest.” She drew her talons down Nightmare Witch’s ample cleavage, scoring shallow scratches in her skin. “Love is a powerful force. Hatred, properly harnessed, is just as useful. When they grow bored of you, just as they did Vahid, you will be mine…” she promised with a cold menace. She then turned and walked away, fading into thin air.

Nightmare Witch stood alone in the silence of the chamber. She felt the cold on her bare skin and wiped a single tear that rolled down her cheek. She then walked out, sealing the chamber door behind her as she left.

The End