Witch Cocoon

Aug 31, 2008 10:35

There were two witches that were holding me prisoner, and they were so powerful that there was simply no hope of escape. They were feeding off of me somehow, extracting energies from my soul. But they were also using their magic to nurture and fortify my soul so that I would regenerate faster and stronger than any normal person could. They treasured me, not as a human being but as a possession - like a gardener treasures its prize flower.

One witch simply looked like an old grandmother, but with thick calluses covering areas of her body. I somehow knew that the grandmother witch had only been a witch for 40 or so years, starting from what should have been the end of her life. But the other witch was ancient, and didn't even look human anymore. That witch had been around for thousands of years and had taken the young witch as a servant or assistant. The body of the ancient witch had swollen up and contorted. The ancient witch appeared as an obese cocoon of putrid flesh created from the husks of humans - she didn't even look human, and I'm not sure how I knew that if she wasn't human anymore that she once had been.

The ancient witch did not speak physically, because her mouth had long eroded. And she could not walk, for her legs were no longer distinct areas of her body. But the ancient witch could levitate, and she would move from one area to another by doing so and twisting the very fabric of space around her so that her obese frame could fit. And she would communicate psychically, speaking in some strange symbolic way that only the grandmother witch could understand. The ancient witch was transforming, and the grandmother witch was helping her do so by pulling energy out of me. I was food, and an endless source at that. They were farming me, and through my misery I was giving the ancient witch what she needed to complete her transformation. My whole life, everything. It was just a dream to mask this endless torment that I was destined to suffer as food for these witches.
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