Violent Beginnings

Danielle de Silva was never one for second guessing. Even when death stared her in the eyes on countless occasions she would never budge. So why was it that, on this cold and bitter night, she was hesitating?

Danielle rubbed at her aching head, trying her best to stop these rampant thoughts from consuming her. She stared at the looming stairs in front of her that faded into darkness. Taking in a deep, steadying breath she lifted the hem of her ebony dress and began her descent down the stone steps. The ghost of a cool touch greeted her with every biting wisp of wind that slithered through the cracks. There was never a need to light a torch or feel her way down the steps. She was accustomed to the dark and treated it like a part of her. After all, this castle was her home.

Whether she wanted it to be or not.

As she continued down, the clattering of her heels echoing down the stairs, Danielle glanced at the portraits adorning the walls. Faces ghastly pale and decked out in fine gowns and rich jewels from all over the world stared back at her. She occasionally found bits of herself in the women of the portraits. Same dead, copper eyes. Milky white hair. Rosy lips. She loved the power her beauty gave her, but resented that it was all she was known for.

Sometimes Danielle wondered if it would be better to burn all these paintings and be done with it. But, alas, they were the only remembrance of her past left. Not to mention she always felt a disturbing presence from the womens’ eyes. As though they were daring her to try and erase them from the castle. In the end, Danielle could deal with this much to pay for her past sins. And the blood that still coated the beds of her nails.

Finally, she stopped at a large wooden door. Danielle looked at the brass handle of a lion’s face and sneered. 

“Lumehr.”

After a pause, the lion’s face grinned at her. It’s eyes opened, replaced with two glowing rubies.

“Ah! Mistress. What a delight it is to see you again.”

Danielle fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I’m sure. Let’s cease with the formalities, hm?” She folded her arms sternly. “You know what I’m here for.”

Lumehr’s grin faded. He seemed more serious now, almost sad.

“Why must you do this? She’s just a girl.”

Massaging her neck, Danielle glowered at the soft hearted fool. “It is my duty. I don’t expect you to understand.”

“But Mistress, if you would just stop and --”

“Do not tell me what to do,” Danielle bit out. Her lips curled back and her eyes flared a haunting green. “No one tells me what to do and lives.”

Lumehr stared down at the ground, a sign of submission and respect.

“Yes, Mistress.”

Danielle sighed and lifted her head. “Excellent. Now open.”

Lumehr didn’t hesitate and quickly opened the doors for her. They creaked open from decades of use. Beyond the doors, torches lit up one by one from each side of the walls, illuminating a cavernous tunnel. Standing taller than before, Danielle began her stroll down the tunnel.

***

After a while, Danielle stopped at a cell near the far back. The tunnels used to hold thousands of prisoners from long forgotten wars, slaves from foreign lands, and creatures that only nightmares could conjure up. Now...they were abandoned. 

All, except for one.

The stench of days old piss and moldy earth down in the tunnels would make anyone tear up and gag. Danielle, however, was accustomed to the foul smell. As a child of war herself, she grew up seeing all the cruelty the world had to offer and horrible deaths beyond anyone’s imagination. This? It was nothing. 

Grating her nails across the cell’s bars, Danielle stared at the slumped figure quivering in the corner. Limp, greasy strands of once gleaming black hair curtained the girl’s face. Her sun kissed skin had now taken on an ashy tone. Danielle was suddenly pulled back to the moment she first heard of the girl. The Mothers of her time had prophesied about a peasant girl that would someday aid in the destruction of all witches. This had sparked fear in the hearts of Danielle’s coven and led many of them to make rash decisions.

Decisions that she had to take care of personally.

Just the memory of the night she killed the women who molded her to be cruel and vicious without any remorse for others made her blood run cold. In a way, Danielle should thank the girl. For if it wasn’t for the poor soul, Danielle would never have had the opportunity to rid herself of those atrocious monsters and take up their power for herself. She had been happy at the time. Proud even to successfully mask her deed and present to the Mothers the one person who threatened them all.

But now… Now things were different. She has lived alone all her life, through the span of many decades, wielding power and glory beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. So, why did looking at this one feeble girl make her question herself?

When the girl wouldn’t stop trembling, Danielle banged her fist against the bars.

“Get up!”

On shaky legs, the girl slowly stood up and faced her. If Danielle had been anyone else, she would have gasped at the bloody wounds and bruised face the girl wore. But she wasn’t. Danielle never indulged herself in a life where she could have been this girl, loved by others and fated to aid a hero of great worth. She was not one to bow to the whims of mankind. Not anymore. For if she couldn’t be the hero of her own story...then she would be the villain.

Danielle eased her hand back. “Good. You’re finally doing as you’re told.”

The girl dragged herself over to Danielle until they were face to face. With her one good eye she stared down at Danielle and, with a grin, spat in her face. 

Bitch.

Danielle silently wiped away the spit and chuckled. She suddenly materialized inside the cell and raised her hand, slapping the girl so hard in the face she flew across the cell and smacked into the wall. As the girl slumped down, groaning in utter pain, a slight dent was left in the wall. 

Hm, Danielle thought. Interesting. She didn’t break any bones. This time.

Walking over to the girl, Danielle bent down and yanked the girl by her hair. When she could look into the girl’s face, she made sure her eyes flared in warning.

“Do that again and I’ll cut out your tongue.” Danielle grinned. “Understand?”

The girl gritted her teeth but nodded. Pleased, Danielle let go and took a couple steps back. The girl got up and leaned against the wall for support, clutching at her ribs.

“Why,” her voice croaked from weeks of unuse.

Danielle lifted a brow. “That’s a broad question. Care to be a little more specific?”

The girl growled. “Why must you do this to me? What have I ever done to you?”

Danielle made a show of checking her nails before pretending to ponder the question.

“Well, let’s see.” She counted off on her fingers. “You are prophesied to do great things. You have lived a secure life despite being a witch -- Yes, I know, so close your mouth. And, oh yes! Not once have you ever had to work for what you want.” Danielle shrugged. “What more reason is there?”

“Y-you can’t hold that against me,” the girl argued.

“Oh, can’t I?” Danielle eased closer to the girl. “I have worked centuries to get where I am today and wield the power I now have. But you? You have sacrificed nothing.”

Something bitter and ugly clawed its way up Danielle’s throat. She refused to acknowledge it and gripped the girl’s face. Her nails cut in deep, pricks of blood dripping down the girl’s cheeks. Danielle inched closer until they were a breath apart.

“You do not deserve to live.”

The girl tried moving away, but Danielle’s nails held her in place. Tears began beading at the corners of the girl’s eyes. Disgusted and...unsettled? Danielle dug out her nails and moved back. She stared at the surprised girl and signaled for her to come forward.

“Come on. Fight me.”

“W-what?” the girl choked.

Danielle sighed. “I said fight me.” She waved a come hither motion. “I’m giving you the chance to end me and free yourself. One would think you would be delighted at the chance.”

The girl gripped herself tightly. Oh, if looks could burn.

“Is this some sick joke? You know I can’t.”

Danielle lowered her arms and scoffed. “Ah, yes. That’s right, you can’t. Or else you forfeit your healing magic for dark magic.” She chuckled ruefully. “Silly me.”

The girl narrowed her eyes. “Is that what this is all about? Keeping me locked up in this cell, no food or water, beating me every day…” Her eyes squinted like they could see through Danielle. “You want me to become -- become like you?”

Danielle lost her amusement, eyes growing colder with every word from the girl’s lips. 

“I see you won’t fight. So, I’ll just leave then.”

Without another word, Danielle materialized back on the other side of the cell. The girl rushed forward until she was gripping the bars.

“Wait! Don’t go.”

Danielle crossed her arms. “We’re done here.” She looked down the tunnel, as though lost in thought. “Tomorrow, the Mothers will come here and take you away to the Crossing. You’ll be their problem to deal with.”

The girl’s face blanched. She began to tremble again and this time, Danielle could begrudgingly admit she took no pleasure from it. After all, she was once in this girl’s very shoes. Danielle began to walk away, leaving the poor girl to ponder over the next few years of torment and chaos awaiting her. 

“I-It must be lonely.”

Danielle stopped. She stared back at the girl, surprised. “What?”

The girl looked at her, eyes looking so sad and empty. “Being stuck here. Wielding all that power...but with no one here to help guide you through the dark days.”

Danielle bit back a retort. But was she lonely? Was that why she has been doubting her actions every night? No. No, it couldn’t be. She had power! Glory! Nothing could compare to that. The girl was wrong. She was wrong.

And tomorrow she would be gone…

Danielle clenched her fists and silently continued her descent down the tunnel. She was a witch with a cruel heart and unparalleled strength. What did the mere words of a peasant girl matter anyways. She would rule the world one day and, when it was all done, let those who wronged her burn in hellfire.