Wallflowers

[In this garden, light doesnt shine. 

Water never nurishes. 

Nor soil to support root or vine.

This garden is shadowy, full of dark and dread. 

The last place magic should tread.

Plants grown here chose their path

Thier fruits razed by wrath. 

Now they slumber in this hollow hold

Day by day, night by night, living out endless fright.]

—Engraving on the front of two great silvered green doors deep beneath an orchard of Ban Berry trees.

“I keep you here to remind me why to exist.”

Blue glowing glass orbs emit light from imprisoned wisps as his voice echoes against stone slab walls.

“Your dead rotting sisters. I keep their shackled corpses so I can smell the rot from time to time when I need to put a smile on my face”

 A man erupts with laughter while he sets himself down onto a small stool. The brawny figure interlocks his fingers and looks straight ahead at the lively body imprisoned infront of him. 

“Commoners believe they can just surround their homes with enchanted brine, hang charms or speak divine words in their rooms to keep you away. Am I right?”

The hateful wide eyed body infront of him thrashes back in forth in metal bindings attached to silvered chains anchored to the stone slab walls. Murmurings and metal dragging against cold floor can be heard behind the sharp figure poised on the stool. 

“All these people run from you. Fear you. Make mountains from mole hills about you in the bedtime stories told to scare children. But me…”

Now placing his hands on his knees and sitting perfectly upright. His expression goes cold, motionless. He locks eyes with the bound body infront of him.

“….I…I run to you. With open arms. Like loved ones I’ve missed for so terribly long. And when I finally  wrap my arms around you in loving embrace. With tears in my eyes I look at your face and whisper…I love you”

Muffled yelling echoes from the body directly infront of the sharp brawny figure. A small enchanted metal plate baffles the words coming from her lips. The echoes fill the subsurface hall walls that are lined with imprisoned bodies. Some moving slowly, some expired and some putried with the effluvia of dying witches. 

“Only….I….dont….love you”

He points his nose to the ceiling and takes a deep breath. Then pauses a moment before forcefully pushing the air from his lungs. The cold expressionless stare has slipped away. Now a soft warm smile gazes at the witch in an almost adoringly manner.

“I want to watch you fight for your life. I want to see you give it your all. To the last drop. Your strength, your spirit, pour it all out as if it was the only option. Fight, tooth and nail with the hope that all that you have will be just enough to carry through. Only to be struck down and reaped”

The warm smile has vanished. His chest rises and falls heavily with each breath. On his face is an open mouthed grin that is more maniacal than menacing. He reaches in his shirt and pulls out a long silvered chain with a trinket on the end. An ornate heart shaped trinket with a glass center filled with a red fluid.Its outter gold casing gives off a shine in the blue light as it swings at the end of the chain. He taps the trinket several times. The witch seeing what is infront of her, stills her movement. Wide eyed, she quickly scoots back againts the wall away from the man still perched on the simple stool.  

“Do you know who I am now? Maybe you just heard the whispers and rumors.  I know you Mathaleana. Mathaleana the Hemoltant. Quite a job you had huh? Tracking down prized blood. Tell me, can you smell mine? Does it smell familiar? Speaking of familiar. Take a look at that beauty next to ya. Who is that there, lets see. Master Caster Ravanah I believe. Kinda hard to tell now by looks alone. My first prized plant in this garden of mine. Shes been here…hey Rav, how long ya been here!?!? Haha, dehydration got her tongue long ago. But its years, shes been down here years”

 WIth an evil grin, he looks at Ravanahs deep eye sockets and shoots her a wink.

The untrodden witch glances at the frail body in shackles next to her. With skin like old dried fish, scaley and flakey, Ravanah now resembles more a mummy than a witch.  Bones soft and spongy. Missing fingers, missing toes. Nothing left of her nose. Ravanahs eyes sunken and shrunken to the size of a baby button in the bottoms of her eye sockets.  Her too bound by silvered chains anchored to the stone slab walls. Little to no movement and spiraling deaths drain. Ravanahs frail body takes few breaths. Atop her head of thinned wirey hair is a tall red pointy hat. On the middle seam of the hat, “Sanguinus Circulus” can be read. Mathaleana now flung into a state of panic, the witch quickly scans the other bodies in the hall. Many with red cloaks, red garments, red dresses or red pointy hats. Some missing ears, eyes, patches of skin, whole hands, feet and even limbs. All bodies with signs of mutilation but her own. She whips her head to face the man on the stool. Nostrils flared with rapid burst of air in and out her nose from her new panicked state of mind.

“I was crushed under the hate and sadness I carried. Not a moment that I was not drowning. Gasping for air. Reliving my darkest memories and hoping it would be my last time. Every day I woke up again and again. Just to wish my eyes had closed forever. All because I no longer had purpose. Ooooooooh the tears I shed”

Holding the ornate heart in his hand, he rubs a finger over the trinkets gold casing and exhales a deep breath. 

“Since I no longer had a reason to exist I thought of the craziest, most unlikely thing I could do…to…feel right again and possibly forfit my life at the same time. And wouldnt you know, I did it. Managed to have luck on my side and live to tell the tale. Made a deal with my monsters monster. Hahaha! It turns out there are some of the most evil beings looking for you. Specifically…you and your sisters circle. “

His crazed sickly laughter echoes thru the blue lighted hall. 

“The Sanguine Slayer, to some. Others like me “The Slainless”. I take pride in the moniker other slayers have given me. Because, why give you such an easy way out? WHY!?!?!…”

Sanguine Slayers shout echos thru the dungeon silencing any movement, murmur, whine or cry coming from the rest of the wallflowers.

“…Death is too fair for you, its too quick, too pleasent. Your hexs, rituals, sacrifices and magic have destroyed and taken so much from me and others. Why give you relief that takes but a few seconds? When I can trade death for your suffering for years and years to come. My people would cheer for me if they knew, if they saw my accomplishments here. So you will suffer every day just like I do.”

The slayer finally lifts his body from the stool and stretches his arms above his head. He briefly makes a last moment of eye contact with Mathaleana before turning his back to her and walking away. The garden in silence. Those sill with eyes in their sockets watch him slowly make his way down the hall to the exit. Only his boots striking the floor and  the hum of wisps wings occasionally hitting the inside of their glass prison is heard. The slayer finally reaches the hall entrance sealed by two great green metal doors. Facing the door he continues the conversation with Mathaleana

“Unfortunately for you…..I’m no hero”

Turning his head just enough to see her out the corner of his eye.

 “I’m just a man repurposed as a vile monster.”

He places a hand on a heavy latch and handle infront of him and turns his body so he had Mathaleana in full view. With a cold expresionless look on his face. He gives her some parting words.

 “Welcome to the fucking garden. See you next harvest…”