12. Slithery Friend.

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=🌿=

"Some fat lady. Hepzibah Smith. Paid a great lot for it too" The old man smirked. It made me shiver.

"Right" Tom states, clutching my hand tighter than before.

"We'll be on our way then" Tom gave the fakest smile that I've seen him throw at someone since I arrived. Tom glanced at me as I said a small thank you, since that's exactly what Tom never did.

"Have a good afternoon birdies!" The man said.

"How queer" Tom mumbled as we left.

=🌿=

Tom seemed to be headed towards somewhere specific, as he was quickly striding through the Alley.

Suddenly something gripped my free wrist, so tight it hurt and pulled me back abruptly. I turned to see a scraggly old lady with oily hair and a bony figure, squeezing my wrist painfully with her thin fingers and long yellowed fingernails. She was buried in a black cloak.

She smiled widely, showing her set of rotten teeth as she asked-

"Care for anything, dear?" She seemed to completely ignore Tom behind me as she pulled open her cloak to show off a selection of zip sealed bags full of small fragments of what seemed like bits and pieces from a human corpse.

There was a collection of full fingernails, and a bag of ears. I looked away nervously.

"No thank you, I appreciate the offer though" I turned back to her, smiling sweetly as I tried to pull away from her vice grip. But she didn't let go.

I was slightly taken aback by this as I started to grow more anxious. I'm not good around people in the first place, let alone a stranger that is mercilessly trying to sell her sketchy bits of human as if it were that or death.

"Are you sure?" She kept smiling. I glanced away from her nervously before looking back at her unpleasant face. I just wanted her to let go so I could get the hell away from her.

"Fine, I-"

Tom swiftly pulled out his wand and pointed it at her, making me pause with my words. Without Tom even saying anything, the woman's hand flew off and disintegrated into mere dust particles. While the woman herself flew back into a wall, falling unconscious.

The most we recieved were a few glances, but other than that, everyone minded their own business, which was strange for once.

Tom pulled me closer to his side, and I gladly complied with him looping our tied arms over my head to rest his hand around my waist.

He looked down at me, concerned;

"Are you alright?". I nodded, pulling my hand that was tied to his to rub my wrist. I can already see the bruises forming. After seeing the mark, Tom sent an angered glare towards the woman who was still out cold, turning back to her as he started to approach.

"Not worth it" I pulled him back in the direction we were headed before. He simply growled before taking the lead again, away from the witch.

=🌿=

We arrived in a small shop that stretched back from the entrance, a lot longer than it was wide. The walls were lined by book shelves that reached the ceiling, a rolling ladder that stretched up so the customers could reach the tallest shelves.

There were long shelves that also branched from the walls, leaving a twisty path to the back of the room where the "front" desk stood. Though there were gaps that led to the front where the sliding ladder rails were embedded into the floorboards. So I suppose it's not that inconvenient.

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