While You Were Creeping - Poppy Rhys Page 0,5

here, into this frozen hell, only to lose time again.

How long had I been imprisoned? I’d lost count after the first one-hundred wakes.

A shredding sound interrupted my thoughts. Immediately a shard of light lit my prison. An endless, empty, frozen desert. I’d run it many times, all leading right back to where I started.

Berchta magic.

I squinted, staring upward.

“Witch...” I growled.

I saw her like a mirage in the strip of blue sky of this prison. Fair skin with freckles that matched the deep red of her curling hair. The skin above her nose wrinkled as she looked toward me.

“A paperweight? Seriously?”

Her voice. A smoky tone that made the skin at the base of my horns grow warm.

My lip curled over my fangs in disgust at that. Her voice and the features of her heart-shaped face might be pleasing, but she was still a berchta, evidenced by her pine green eyes.

That they didn’t have their tell-tale green glow was no matter. Probably another trick.

Never trust a berchta.

This one was new. New to me. I’d already been passed down thrice. My prison entrusted from one witch to the next.

Each waking, the berchta grew older and older, until one waking, I’d see a fresh face. A daughter of the old one.

But that didn’t make sense. The previous witch was still young last waking.

Had the curse changed? Did I miss more time? Had the last witch unexpectedly died?

More of my prison illuminated with the crinkling of paper until everything was back to my version of normal.

“The elves’ gifts aren’t as creative as they used to be,” the witch murmured, inspecting my prison. “How odd...”

What does she mean?

Which elves?

With another scowl, she was gone. The opening in the sky giving me a view of a white-washed peaked ceiling with dark wooden beams crossing it.

I could hear her still. This was normal. My prison always remained open during the waking, like a door into the physical world.

It didn’t matter. I was still tethered to this place, even if I wasn’t in it.

Berchta magic made it impossible to escape. An invisible rope only let me venture so far before I was sucked back here.

Rage boiled up inside me, but it simmered like a pot of water that needed more heat.

It was the damper. I could never feel full-fledged emotions in this place no matter how hard I tried. Another perk of leaving my prison during the waking; I’d get to experience every feeling to the fullest.

Bet that made the witches cackle every damn time. Especially when they got to snatch it away from me at the end of every waking.

Not this time.

I had plans. Plans I’d been stewing on for a handful of wakings.

This time the witch is going to pay.

I bided my time, waiting for the ceiling to go dark, the lights out, before I left the prison and entered the witch’s dwelling.

My bones and muscles yawned, thawing in the heated abode, and my emotions weighed on me. Gushing through my veins like a fast injection of awareness I’d been lacking.

Elation quickly got swept aside by my ire and need for revenge. This witch might have me beat in the end, but I’d make her suffer while I could.

My ears twitched, listening. I could hear her moving around as I crept through a darkened kitchen, skirting through an adjacent living space.

I sniffed the air, scenting something peculiar. Another being? No, it had a subtle odor that smelled of animal.

“Skully, come.”

I halted, sinking to the floor behind a large couch. It smelled of her. The air around me was drenched in her scent. Something soft and deep, like the spiced icing on the fervena cakes my people made.

The pitter-patter of a multi-legged critter tapped along the wooden floors, drawing closer until it peaked its fluffy head around the edge of the couch and stared directly at me.

Immediately, I bared my fangs, my growl so low, I doubted the witch could hear it, but the critter did.

It whined and backtracked, scampering away.

“Skully?”

A light turned on. The shaft of light stretching past the couch, just ahead.

Come closer, witch.

Her shadow grew taller, closer, the soft sound of footsteps closing in.

FIVE

HOLLY

“What’s wrong boy?” Skully scuttled right by me, hightailing it to my room and squeezing his giant self under the bed.

That was... odd.

Not gonna lie, an uneasy feeling crept up my arms. The sho-sha didn’t spook often.

Just to be on the safe side, I curled my fingers around the baseball bat tucked in the hallway closet.

Maybe I was being paranoid. Someone would