"Hold on a second kid!" Narrita called out once Edith was only a few yards away from her shack. The girl stopped in the middle of her tracks. She turned around, stroking the hairs on Mister Cuddles' head while staring back at the Cutthroats with a pair of big round eyes. The other three remained a fair distance away from her, all looking among themselves.
"What's the plan, Narrita?" Horace whispered. "You've got us this far. I'm guessin' you got a way to get us to the very end?"
"I don't wanna end up like Mister Cuddles!" the man carrying Pierce's body cried.
"Nobody's going to end up like that rabbit! Just let me do all the talking! Don't show anyone anything what we've brought along until I give the order. Is that understood?"
Both of the men nodded in unison.
"Good. Now. I'm going to need you two to stay quiet." She rubbed her temples with her fingers. "I'm going to need to focus when I meet this girl's mom. I'll be coming up with a response on the spot and I don't need you two distracting me and giving me any unneeded pressure."
"I knew this was a bad idea," Horace said lowly.
"What did I just say?" Narrita snapped.
"Sorry boss," the two Cutthroats muttered simultaneously.
"Exactly. Just keep your mouths zipped and follow my lead!" Narrita turned and walked up to Edith, bending over and rubbing her hand against the girl’s brunette locks.
"Are you going to help Mister Cuddles now?" she asked.
"Of course! Why don't you let me talk to your mother though? We have to discuss... adult things."
"All right." Edith put her hand on her the crooked handle that jutted out from the door.
"Wait!"
"Yes?" the girl replied, her hand still ready to open the entrance.
"Remember. Let me talk to your mother. I'll explain everything to her. Just don’t say a word."
"Are you going to tell her that Mister Cuddles is sick?"
Narrita nodded her head. "Of course! But... I don't want her getting worried. I'll give her the information slowly. That way she won't panic. You don't want your mother to get upset, do you?"
With a worried look, Edith gazed at her rabbit. "No. I don't."
"You're a sweet girl. Like I said, don't tell her that Mister Cuddles is sick. I'll eventually explain it all to her."
Edith turned back around, slowly pulling the front door open. A faint green mist escaped, hovering a few inches over the ground. Narrita stepped back, her muscles tensed as she watched the child prop the door open with one hand. "Come on in," she said quietly.
Narrita looked behind her. Horace and the other Cutthroat stared at the interior of the home. Among the green fog that had expanded to obscure the area of the entrance frame, they could make out the shadows and silhouettes of a wide assortment of knickknacks. Emerging from the mist was a human-like figure.
"Edith?" an old and creaky voice called out. The girl responded to her name, looking up at the woman with a worried gaze. Still obscured by the green mist, she waved away the remainder of the gas, revealing herself entirely.
Her skin was the same pale shade as Edith's. Her face was wrinkled, weathered by time. The gray hairs on her head were unruly, ready to burst out of the bun behind her head at any moment. She looked down at Edith with her squinted eyes, barely showing off her red pupils. The elderly woman wore a long black dress that covered her completely with a bow fastened onto the front. She brushed away a bit of dust that had gotten on her skirt before addressing her daughter again.
"Edith! Where did you go?" she said in a tone that was both calm and surprised. The girl turned her head, pointing down the dirt path towards the Cutthroats.
"They need to see you."
The old lady squinted her eyes. She stepped forward and with one hand took hold of Edith and hid her behind her legs.
"Mother!" the girl cried out. "They're here to help Mister Cuddles!"
"Get back inside, Edith. Now!"
"But—"
"Do as I say!"
The girl darted inside the shack, closing it behind her. The old woman became angry; she waved her hands in deliberate and elegant manner. A dark purple trail formed in the air, following the motions of her fingers as she chanted underneath her breath. "...rise once more..."
"Wait!" Narrita shouted. She placed both of her hands in front of her with open palms. "We aren't here to cause trouble! Honest!"
"Leave the premise!" the mother commanded. "Unless you have a desire to become one of my minions." She continued with her gestures. The dirt in front of her began to bulge and crack. The claw of an animal emerged from the mound accompanied with a low wail of anguish.
"We're getting out of here, Narrita!" Horace grabbed the Cutthroat leader by the shoulder, tugging her away from the unsteady ground. Her eyes remained fixated on the bony entity emerging from the dirt.
"Wait a second lady! You don't have to do all this!" Horace continued to pull on Narrita, trying to get her to retreat but with a bit of squirming, she freed herself from Horace's hold. "Just give us a second to explain everything!"
The witch closed her eyes. The area went dim while the ground below began to glow purple. The decaying creature emerged from its tomb of dirt. Shaped like a wolf, the undead animal turned what was left of its rotting face towards the Cutthroats. It growled, showing off the still-sharp teeth that jutted out from the remainder of its face. Its spine arched back, exposing its muscles as it prepared for a pounce. "Begone from our land! And don't ever return!"
"B-but we've got something that you might want!" Narrita turned to Horace. "Take it out and show it to her!"
He took the bag off his shoulder and quickly rummaged through it. "Gotta be in here somewhere..."
"Hurry up!" Narrita angled her head towards Horace while keeping her eyes staring at the wolf. It growled but remained still.
"Got it!" Horace took out a golden medallion and lifted it above his head. It was small and oval-shaped. Printed onto the dull metal was the shape of a pig's head secured to a long red and purple lanyard. The witch calmed down upon seeing the familiar object. She inched forward, not taking her eyes off it.
"T-That's..." she muttered, one finger pointing at the medallion.
"I know it's not much," Narrita began. "But it's not all that we have to offer."
"You have no idea how important that medallion is to me!"
"It's all yours then!" Narrita bumped Horace in the side with her elbow. "Hurry up and give it to the woman!"
"What?" he whispered. "Why do I have to do it?'
"I'm the boss! Now give this... sweet... old lady... that medallion of hers back! And don't hesitate, she needs it now."
With a trembling hand, Horace walked forward, letting the weight of the ribbon dangle out of his clenched fist. He refused to take his gaze off the undead wolf as it stared back at him burning yellow eyes. The witch remained cross, her arms in front of her body as she tapped one foot impatiently as Horace mustered the courage to approach.
"Here," he said once he was close enough, dropping the object into the older woman's open palm. She snatched it away, turning to the side and lifting the insignia in front of her face for her own examination.
"This is it. There's no denying it," she said as she tapped the metal. "How did you come across this?"
The Cutthroats became silent, looking towards each other in search of an answer.
"Don't make me force an answer from you." The witch stepped next to the wolf she summoned and stroked the arching spine of the beast. As her pale hand ran along the bony spine, it let out a satisfied purr. "Decades of fallen animals lay beneath this ground. If I wanted to, I could easily surround you and store your corpses several feet beneath the ground to keep you three as my personal servants.
"We stole it!" the man carrying Pierce blurted out. "Not me, but our gang!"
The witch tilted her head up, looking down at the Cutthroats with a glare that bordered on contempt. "I figured that it was you who broke into our home a few years ago. And for what reason have you decided to come back to bother my family? Trying to rob an old woman of the last of her valuables?"
Narrita shook her head with fervor. "No, no. Not at all! We're here to try and make amends!"
The witch patted the wolf on its head, making it rest on its belly. "For some reason I doubt that your guilt has been chewing away at your conscious for all these years. There must be another reason why you've returned with what you've stolen."
"I won't lie to you, ma'am. There is something that we are looking to get from you." Narrita nudged her head, prompting her subordinate to bring his bag. He placed it on the dirt in front of the witch and opened the bag. After a bit of hesitation, she stepped forward, looking peering into the open sack.
"Think you would be able to help us out?" Narrita pleaded. The old witch squinted. She then opened the bag wider.
"Of course I could," the old witch bellowed, staring at the remains of the snake stowed away in the bag. "But why would I want to?"
Art Spotlight: Gertrude Atworth
