My F*cked Up Fairytale

FINAL DECISION - CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

"All have done is nothing but screw us—..."

"Seal that wretched mouth of yours!" Nimue bellows, eyes flaring a searing red as her words push me back like a gust of wind.

I try to stop myself from tumbling through the open air, but there is nothing I can grab onto. All of it slips right through my grasp.

"Be still," Sybil stops my endless struggle with two words, though I offer no words of gratitude, instead all I do is stare at the red-eyed witches. "Neither of us appreciates that you have stirred up the flames of hell into our gazes. We could very well quell the anger within us and banish you back to your homeland, never to allow you to return to Bestias again."

My eyes widen at the idea, and a ghost of a protest leaves my mouth. For, I cannot say even the smallest bit of a sentence. All I can do is let out frantic, muffled noises that are supposed to make up screams.

"But we will not," Nimue settles the stress within me as she places a comforting hand upon Sybil's shoulder, squeezing it lightly, "King Dorian would have our heads on stakes if he discovered that we sent his lovely human back after she returned."

"We've already been banished from Lamias too. No need to put our names on the execution list as well," Nimue sighs with a shake of her head, "Besides, a smiling King is much better than a frowning one that sulks in his manor all day."

"Now, the only question that remains is...are you willing to be bound to Bestias?" Sybil asks me carefully, eyes narrowing as the red slowly dissipates from them. "Speak once more and give us your answer."

"Ye—..."

"Think wisely, Cyra. You will not be able to return to Earth. All of your friends, family, and everything you have known will be left behind," Sybil warns me, however, her words do not rouse any bit of hesitancy within me.

I had lost Dorian once before, and now that I can be beside him again, I don't want to push it away. Rather, I want to grasp it tightly and never let it go. It doesn't matter what I have to do to stay with him either. I'm willing to do anything for Dorian. 

Well, that is anything except to give my life. I plan on keeping that until the moment I grow tired of that vampiric brute which I know will not happen, even centuries from now. I may become annoyed, frustrated, or angry at him, but I know none of that will make me want to leave him again.

"It seems our dear human has settled on her decision," Nimue declares with a glint of excitement within her eyes.

"Cyra..." Sybil says my name again.

Another warning. Another chance for me to say 'no'. Another reason to hesitate. Yet, I ignore it as I nod my head, a confident smile on my lips.

"Very well then," Sybil concedes with a reluctant sigh, then her hands lift to the ceiling. Her fingers dance in the open air before she begins to mutter, "Body without a soul come forth so that you can become whole."

I half-except my sleeping body to appear in front of me in some eerie display of magic but nothing happens. When I focus back on Sybil, I see her elbow Nimue in the ribs, making the witch roll her eyes.

"I'd rather eat something before performing such an exhausting spell," Nimue complains, only to get yet another jab to her ribs.

"You and your blackhole of a stomach can wait!" Sybil shouts back, a glower of disappointment on her face.

A smile forms on my lips at the humorous interaction between the two. It reminds me of the silly feuds Dorian and I used to get into. At the memory, I feel warmth tingle at the tips of my toes and fingers. The faint sensation makes me desperate to return to my body.

"Body without a soul come forth so that you can become whole," Nimue and Sybil chant together, both of their hands raised to the ceiling.

The distant sound of cawing reaches my ears. It steadily grows louder until a swarm of crows flies into the room. The flock of crows stays in a tight oval full of nails, black feathers, and sharp beaks that continuously open to let out an ear-piercing shriek. Only when the noise subsides and the birds disperse, do I see what they had been flying around. Lying fast asleep on an old, dust-painted table is...my body. 

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