Crash Of The Supernatural

THE DEAD

"Power is the best feeling in the world." Theodora soliloquized and permeated into her huge castle without unlocking the door.

She strolled to her chamber and fazed in with an evil grin on her face. She stared around her flower-decorated chamber as if seeing it for the first time with admiration and smiled.

The room alone screamed great power, dark magic, and authority. Ancient books and scrolls filled one part of the room followed by herbs.

The scent of her chamber was enough to make anyone keep sneezing. But then to her, it was the best scent ever.

Hung on the wall all over her room were dark uncompleted portraits which emitted a dark smoke like the one coming out of her body.

Some of the images in the portraits had just heads while the sketch of their bodies were missing. Some had the sketch of the bodies while the heads were missing.

Some were just hands while others were hearts and the rest were different parts of the body of both mortals and animals.

There was only a full portrait that wasn't emitting smoke and was decorated with flowers. But unlike others it wasn't hung on the wall it was placed on the drawer close to her bed. The portrait had an image of a gorgeous glowing female.

A female who looked exactly like her. The female had her eyes, nose, hair, hands, and everything. From the resemblance, it was obvious that the image was that of her mum taken when she was of her age. She glanced at the image and a sad smile crept into her face.

She strolled to it, picked it up, and pecked it so many times. "I miss you, mother. Why did you have to leave? Why did you have to go? Why couldn't you fight?" She whispered, trying her best to hold back the tears that tended to overwhelm her because she wasn't one who loved crying and also wasn't one who loved showing her pains and weakness.

Shutting her eyes, the memories of the day the people of her tribe were killed began flooding into her mind. As a witch of her power and rank, it was possible for her to remember what happened when she was just a year old. And even when she was eleven months old. Her powers were exceedingly great that it baffled her sometimes.

"Don't kill us, mortals. We are one! We can talk things over," her mum, Ancient dark witch 'Morgan Marguerite' sobbed, patting her as she was breastfeeding her when the war broke out.

The mortals laughed and waved their swords in the air. They were able to chain all the witches with a metal called 'Babilic.'

Babilic was a metal that had the power to relieve witches of their powers and leave them vulnerable to their enemies.

"We don't want to talk things over, witch!" Their leader shrieked and laughed vehemently. "Today you all, including your babies will die. Everyone one of you will be sent to the afterlife. Kill them all!"

Morgan Marguerite was able to run for her life. She kept running not caring where she was going until she came before a cave.

Knowing that she wouldn't be able to escape, she climbed up the cave with her long sharp nails and placed little Theodora in the uppermost part of the cave and jumped down. Immediately, she did, the humans arrived.

"Where is your baby?!" They wailed at her and yanked her hair.

"Gone. Gone where you all won't be able to see and harm her!"

"Give us your baby and we will spare your life." One of them said.

Morgan laughed to the extent that tears began dropping from her eyes. "I'm not a fool to believe such lies. My life I'll gladly give in exchange for hers. Her name shall be called Theodora and she will be the worst nightmare of Hilton Bale."

The leader of the humans out of anger surged his sword through her heart and she landed on the dirt in a loud thud and breathed her last.

A tear slid down little Theodora's eye and she swore within her on that very day to take her revenge and fulfill her mum's last words.

For days the humans searched for Theodora in every part of the cave but having powers even as a baby she made herself invisible and as such, they couldn't see or find her.

In the cave, she lived all her life till she became who she was right now; the worst nightmare of Hilton Bale.'

Dropping the portrait, she wiped off her tears that she couldn't hold back and stripped off her wear. She ambled to her bathroom and in less than ten minutes walked out with water dripping from her head down to her feet.

Why wouldn't it when she refused to use a towel?

She stood in the room as the smoke emitting from her body dried her up. Waving her hair in the air, she walked to her wardrobe and picked up a black floral gown that showed off her killer curves and decked into it without caring for underwear. And not being one who fancies cream and all that, she walked to her table and sat down on it.

"Time to draft down a to-do list." She whispered and picked out a fresh scroll, unwrapped it, and placed it gently on the table.

She picked up a blade and cut her palm, letting her blood drop into the little wooden cup beside her scroll. Being satisfied with the amount of blood that have poured into the cup, she blew air on her palm and her wound sealed up.

She picked up a little chicken feather and began writing while giggling and shaking her ass.

I; Dry up one part of the humans drinking water.

II; Kill all newborn babies.

III; Three days darkness.

She was about to write the fourth when a great wind began blowing roundabout her and a replica of her clad in black apparel just like her but longer than hers appeared at her door.

"Mother," she breathed, stood up abruptly, and rushed into her mum's open arms. Morgan reciprocated the hug and caressed her hair.

"I've missed you so much, mother. I've missed you so damn much." Theodora sobbed, letting her tears flow freely.

"I've missed you too, daughter." Morgan sighed and both disengaged.

"Why are you here, mum? What is the dead who left me all to myself doing in my house?"