Prophesy: The Immortal Witch (12)

Part 11 at: https://www.abctales.com/story/marandina/prophesy-immortal-witch-11

 

Bleached skulls littered a shimmering landscape, part buried, markers in sand whispering untold tales of all too ephemeral lives past. In all directions, land appeared barren. It was anything but where, beyond the naked eye, Yellow Scorpions scuttled in search of prey, their venom powerful enough to fell a man. Snakes slithered unseen amongst dunes, vipers and cobras at home in the wastelands.

Even where shelter could be found, the arid wilderness would take its toll. With twilight came the dangers associated with finding sanctuary; the same sanctuary that other creatures sought after the inferno of the day. With the darkness came the arachnids, huntsman and widows seeking out food.

Rays of relentless sun beat down mercilessly, burns and blistering on arms and legs testimony to a human struggle against the elements. Expending weary effort, Jezebel glanced up and away from the endless sand. In the distance she could see an oasis beckoning, the promise of water causing her whole body to tremor slightly in expectation.

Jezebel prayed it was real, her long walk of shame now a shuffling effort  reduced to putting one foot in front of another in a process of diminishing returns. She sagged as it became apparent that the lure of lush vegetation and life giving aqua was a mirage crushing any remaining hope of salvation. She slumped onto both knees wondering whether to simply give up and let the Negev take her body. Perhaps it was for the best.

For a while she stared down at the shifting sands, the wind whipping traces off the surface and into the air. It would be so easy to give up, just to lie down and fade away. Something inside her fought against meek acquiescence; she would struggle on a little longer.

For once, fortune was on her side as the endless desert finally gave way to hills and shallow mountains; coloured striations marked the passing of time over epochs etched into stone. Serrated mounts hugged the skies.

By now a world-weary shambling struggle had been reduced to crawling, the heavy price paid for an absence of food and water. A cave beckoned ahead, a haven that would at least provide a more comfortable place to die, Jezebel thought grimly.

Inside the cavern, the drop in temperature was noticeable. Shadows and inky darkness replaced ruinously blinding rays of sun. There was nothing left to give. She curled into a foetal ball, no energy or will to carry on. Her time was over and, eyes closed, she found relief and closure in ushering in whatever came next. Sleep came all too easily, muscle and bone extended beyond the limits of exhaustion. She had persisted for three days; three days of agony and torture exacted by extremes of nature.

Breaths came in shallow rasps, a throat bone dry from dehydration. After a while she woke again woozily, oblivious to surroundings, her consciousness struggling to fix on anything that would clear the fog clouding her brain. It was then that she tasted the liquid, drops of warm solution dripping onto her tongue, her jaw having been gently prized open. It was an effort to process what was happening. Perhaps she had made it to the oasis after all and was now dreaming.

Her mouth started to move, slowly at first, fluid slipping down her gullet. Such a bitter tang in its heat. A shrunken stomach groaned on contact with the solution. Jezebel’s eyes half-opened, part raising herself on elbows. Shunting forward, her mouth latched onto something fleshy and she drank. Cautiously at first but then greedily. She drank to survive then passed out again.

It was hard to tell how long it was before she roused once more. Inside, it was cooler hidden away from the glare of the sun. In turn, this had the effect of slowing everything down. The rapid incineration brought on by the flaming heat simply didn’t hold sway in the safety of this natural chamber.

Her head hurt, every inch of her body aching as though a battering had been administered by enraged villagers in an act of vigilante retribution. It hadn’t but it felt like it had somehow.

Unfolding like an emerging chrysalis, tattered and torn, she edged herself up slowly into a seated position facing into the depths of a cave discovered in extremis. She peered, leaning forward in an effort to penetrate the gloom. There seemed to be a fluttering noise coming from somewhere. Probably bats in a mildew covered alcove, she told herself.

Ahead, the cave swung away to the left, its ceiling increasing in height as it trailed away. Partially hidden beyond the bend, an outline was forming. Jezebel’s eyes were adjusting to the lowlight and with it a realisation that she was not alone.

“You see me?”

The voice echoed, a statement made in a low murmur. There was a hypnotic quality in the quietly spoken words, yet in a timbre that rattled. A guttural tone that was ragged and raw.

From the shadows, a skulking form was appearing.

It started to edge towards her.

“Do you know where you are sweet witch?”

At that she recoiled, fear rising in her. Not only did she find herself in an unnatural situation but whoever this was appeared to know things about her.

No further utterance came forth as the cavern became silent but for the fluttering of the occasional bat.

“How….how do you know me?” Jezebel wanted to run but accepted that she simply didn’t have the stamina in her present state.

“You were mostly dead. You drank from my veins.”

By now, the speaker from the shadows was close enough for Jezebel to see who she was dealing with.

The creature was ancient, its skin fibrous, a leathery-paper thin substance ripped with arterial veins that looked like tributaries flowing into rivers. It could have been a giant bat, eyes blind covered over with folds of membrane. It was naked, its body hairy, phallus conspicuously dangling between its legs. Large folded wings sprouted from its back, almost angelic in form. When it spoke, rows of small sharp incisors became apparent flanked on both sides by vampiric fangs. Slender arms with bird-like talons gestured as it spoke.

Jezebel watched with awe and terror in equal measure. It towered over her, this mutant mix of chiropteran and man.

“What do you want of me?” A question riddled with powerlessness. “I should be dead now. Blood cannot replace water.”

As much as it appeared that she had been kept alive somehow, her own thirst for existence had waned to the point of no longer wanting to carry on. The agony and humiliation that had been endured since her banishment weighed heavily. There seemed little to live for.

“You drank of my essence….it is not the same thing.”

The mystery of what was flowing inside such a macabre beast swam through Jezebel’s imagination like a catfish caught in the undertow of the mighty Jordan.

It added: “Your veneration….will be welcomed.”

The statement sent a shiver through her frail frame. It looked like there was an ulterior motive after all.

“Ven….ven….veneration?” The words stumbled uneasily from her mouth, her customary confidence undermined.

“I hear you. I sense you. I cannot see you. I am, for want of a better word, blind.”

The creature paused for effect. “You shall be my eyes.”

Jezebel felt a metaphorical heavy weight bearing down on her. She felt trapped and alone.

“Lead me to your people. Your reward will be to make you the richest of all women.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Ah…if you refuse? Of course, you have the privilege of free will. We could debate how truly free this is, if you prey to a God or even a demon if that is your wont. You can refuse, dear witch.”

For moments it seemed that there was a choice on offer.

The creature continued:

“Should you choose to do this, I will help you to achieve what you have thought about on numerous occasions over the last day or so.”

Jezebel instantly knew what was being alluded to. She couldn’t begin to know how this creature had so much intuition but the craving to lie down and fade away was no longer prevalent. Faced with the stark reality of her days being ended prematurely, she baulked at the notion of eternal darkness or whatever it was that followed an earthly demise. She wanted to remain in control of her destiny. She wanted to live.

“I sense your prevailing wisdom. I do not wish to harm you, serenest of witches. Merely for you to assist a helpless beast of the desert.”

Resignation ran through her, the realisation that she was cornered and being coerced into agreeing to something in the most mellifluous of manners. A conflict raged within her. This creature, she sensed, was capable of the most barbaric of acts and yet could be eloquent and even gentle. She wanted to embrace it and destroy it in equal measure.

“We leave after sunset. My bargain will be made clear. In time.”

It was so much to deal with; events following her banishment threatening to overwhelm in a dust storm of ill fortune. Jezebel wilted, exhaustion enveloping her like a warm shawl fused to every atom of her being. Light blinked out, darkness came once more.

 

Part 13 at: https://www.abctales.com/story/marandina/prophesy-immortal-witch-13

 

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