Mika N.
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The Cursed Mask
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The bright summer sun cast its light upon a wooded area just outside of a rundown town. From a distance, the woods appeared serene and peaceful, but the locals who lived nearby knew of its curse for generations. The air was always cold, and the trees were tainted, almost black in color with the claw marks of a monster that resided within.
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She slowly wandered through the woods, trailing her claws over the trees as she passed them. On the branches above, countless ravens watched their mistress intently. Her head hung slightly from the weight of the mask she wore for so many years. She should feel an ache in her neck, but it’s no longer possible for The Raven Witch to feel anything. Her heart had stilled ages ago, her chest never moved, for she could not breathe, and her body had gone numb to the outside world. She walked in the corpse of a woman, yet she could not move on.
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The Raven Witch came upon an all too familiar sight; an old wooden cabin that stood for as long as she had. Its exterior had become so worn down, even she was surprised it managed to stay sound for so long. The interior was not in good shape either, being covered in feathers and claw marks, but it was one of the few things she had. Upon entering the old cabin, some her ravens fluttering in ahead of her, The Raven Witch caught a glimpse of a dusty mirror covered by an old set of ripped clothes.
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She approached the mirror and the worn fabric flew off of its surface. Dust scattered everywhere, but its irritating effects did not bother her. She stared at her reflection for a long moment. Her clouded grey eyes wandered down from the mask fused into her face to her neck. Just above the silver heart necklace she wore was a large open wound; a slit across her neck. The gruesome mark never healed, as her body could no longer do so properly. When she looked back up, a completely different yet familiar reflection greeted her. It was the face of a young maiden she knew very well. The reflection looked back at her and smiled. She remembered.
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…
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She was around the age of twenty. Yvonne was her name. She had fair skin, dark hair and never spoke or acted ill towards anyone. Yes, she was a pure soul, in the year of 1693. Just beyond the woods, which were once filled with life and greenery, was a small village with about 50 devout residents. Everyone within the village relied on each other and the church for answers.
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She remembered hearing the priest cry out in alarm one day, that everyone had to gather within the church at once. “Witches!” He told the small crowd. “Witches live among us! They have been spreading like mice in Salem, and now I have received a message from the Lord that these monsters have turned some of our own people into worshippers of the Devil!” The crowd whispered among each other nervously. Some were frantic, others were skeptical. “Pray never go near those woods beyond the village, for the witches sin and worship there. If anyone is seen entering those woods, they shall be prosecuted.”
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Yvonne took the priest’s warnings to heart, and for the rest of the day, she took alternate routes to stay as far from the woods as possible. As the night drew near, she headed back towards her small home to retire. It was mere moments before she reached the door when someone had grabbed her. A hand clasped over her mouth firmly and her arm was pulled back violently by a cloaked figure. Yvonne attempted to fight back, but two more cloaked figures emerged from the shadows and she realized with a sense of dread that her assailants had planned this event.
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“You must come with us, dear.” The cloaked figure restraining her spoke in a hushed tone. Yvonne recognized that voice. It was Selene, one of the young women who lived near her in the village. She did not know her very well, as she usually kept to herself, but she knew the other two figures must have been her friends.
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With the help of her two accomplices, Selene dragged Yvonne into the woods, far away from the village. Yvonne already realized that these women had become witches, but she did not understand why she was the one to be kidnapped. She had never done anything to them, had she? After a few moments of being pulled along, she managed to push off the hand that covered her mouth and asked worriedly, “Why are you taking me? Please, if I ever caused you any harm, I truly am sorry.”
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Selene giggled and gave her a bright smile. “Oh, you did nothing wrong, dear. That is why we need you!” Yvonne couldn’t comprehend what she just heard. Selene took this as a sign to continue. “You must understand, we know you are the last person in this village who would ever sin against the church. However, as you have likely guessed by now, we do not follow the church. Our…practices have been noticed by the priest and we must take certain measures to ensure that we will survive the upcoming hunts.”
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They soon reached a clearance in the woods. A large sigil had been drawn into the ground, but Yvonne did not recognize the name engraved around it. Across from them was a wooden cabin, which was surprisingly well-built. The door swung open and two more witches emerged from within. One of the witches was carrying some rather strange items such as light blue candles and marigold. However, Yvonne’s panic began anew when she saw the other one holding a strange looking mask, a lot of rope and a sharpened dagger.
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Yvonne kicked and screamed as she was pulled forward, “Please! Please let me go! I will do anything, I promise!” One of the witches struck her in the back of her head. Yvonne’s vision blurred and her body went limp as she was thrown to the ground, in the center of the sigil. The witches pulled at her dress and garments violently until they were torn apart, leaving her bare and exposed. They bound her wrists together before tying the wooden mask around her face.
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Yvonne let out an undignified squeak as a pair of calloused hands flipped her onto her back, and she met the eyes of Selene. The witch smiled and trailed her fingers down the young woman’s breasts before she whispered into her ear. “Do not worry, dear. This will only sting a little.”
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She saw the glint of the dagger for a brief moment before it was drawn across her neck. A horrible, searing pain coursed throughout her body and she felt something warm spill from her neck. Her vision blurred with tears and she was choking. She could not breathe. She saw the silhouette of Selene run to the edge of the sigil. “Quickly! We must start the ritual!” The witches lit the candles and scattered the marigold over their victim’s body before gathering in a circle, chanting hymns that Yvonne had never heard before. She pulled at the ropes tied around her wrists but found that her strength was depleted. Her body was in agony and her limbs trembled from a numbing sensation. She faintly saw a puddle of red blossoming around her.
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“Set us free! Oh, set us free!” The witches chanted around the pentagram. “We call upon you, oh Great Prince of hell! Commander of forty legions! We humbly ask for your help and offer you greatly!” Yvonne’s mind had become too fuzzy to cry out for help. She could vaguely feel the blood gushing from her neck, and the coldness that was overtaking her body. She knew that she was dying, and the tears would not stop.
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The air suddenly turned cold. The grass and fallen leaves around the sigil were gradually coated in a layer of frost. The witches stopped chanting and bowed low. Selene spoke in soft voice. “We welcome you, Malphas.” Something was standing next to Yvonne, looming over her crumbled body. She fought the growing urge to close her eyes, which had grown heavy from an overwhelming amount of exhaustion and looked up. A pair of glowing blue eyes stared back at her.
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She could scarcely see what the creature looked like. It stood tall with an upper figure like a man, yet its body was covered in black feathers and the glow from its eyes revealed a raven shaped head. Selene addressed the beast as if it were an angel, but kept her head bowed in praise. “Oh, Great Prince Malphas, we offer you this sacrifice; a young virgin soul, as thanks to hearing our plea.”
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The demon did not move, but his beak parted slightly, and a hoarse voice that made Yvonne shiver echoed around them. “I thank thee for such a generous sacrifice. A young virgin soul… So pure! Yes, such a wonderful gift shall do nicely. What does thou heart desire?” Selene and the other four witches praised the demon again for his generosity before continuing their request. “Great Prince, we humbly ask for your protection. Your devout worshippers are being hunted by the followers of light. They take heads off our shoulders!”
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However, amidst the plea of the witches, the demon did not look at them. Instead, his eyes remained locked with the dying woman laid before him. Yvonne could not move. She felt so cold. Her long dark hair was stained with red and her heart nearly spent. She was afraid. She did not want to die so soon, and she did not want to be left alone like this.
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“Thou does not have to die, sweet girl.” A hoarse voice, not her own, whispered inside her head. The demon that loomed over her stared at her unblinkingly. “Thou does not have to die alone, either. I can grant such if that is what thou heart desires…” Yvonne knew she did not have much of a choice. She feared what this creature was capable of, yet she was so desperate to live. She did not want to die yet. With as much strength as she could muster, she twitched her head downwards in acknowledgement, before her vision faded completely.
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A rush of ice surged through her veins and her eyes snapped open. She could not tell if a few moments had passed, or several minutes. Everything appeared still, silent. The demon was gone, and the witches were quiet, save for a few puzzled murmurs amongst each other. She could not feel her limbs, nor the breeze that lingered in the air. She could not even take in a single breath. Yet, she could twitch her fingers and her gaze flickered towards them. Her hands were no longer bound, she realized, and something else had happened to her. Long, curved claws replaced her cracked fingernails, and black feathers sprouted from her wrists. Such a bizarre sight made her stir. What did that horrible demon do to her?
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With a bit of effort, the woman pushed herself upwards until she was on her knees. Moving was a rather difficult task, as she could not tell if she had full control of her body. She felt like a puppet whose strings were cut. The mask on her face was heavier than before, forcing her to tilt her head to the side. Blood had spilt from her slashed neck and coated her bare chest, though she hardly noticed. The witches stumbled back in shock, their mouths agape and their eyes wide. Selene managed to croak out, “Yvonne?”
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The woman’s lifeless eyes met those of her assailants, and her lips pulled back into a scowl. Rage surged through her veins and a hoarse voice in her mind compelled her to extend a clawed hand. Selene’s expression suddenly changed from shock to agony and she let out a blood curdling scream as feathers sprouted from under her skin. The other witches soon followed. They fell to their knees and cried, begging for the demon to end their pain. The masked woman managed to stand after a few attempts and stumbled past the witches as their bodies contorted into a new form. Any sympathy she may have held for them vanished once Selene cried out, “God, please break this curse!!” Their pleas would remain unheard.
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She wandered through the trees and dragged her claws over them as she walked. Every step she took caused the grass beneath her feet to turn dull and lifeless. Before long, she reached the exit of the woods and the small village she once held dear came into view. The hoarse voice echoed in her mind again and the masked woman held her arms out, almost as if she longed to gather the people in her arms. Within a matter of moments, the entire village echoed with the screams of its devout residents. The masked woman stood there for a long moment and listened as the cries of men, women and children slowly faded into squawks.
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Afterwards, she made her way back through the woods and stopped at the clearing where she last saw the witches. In their place were five ravens, with no sign of animosity towards her. It was as if they had forgotten all of the horrible things that happened. She could hear the fluttering of more raven wings, not far from where she stood. The masked woman picked up her ripped clothes along with a black dress and cloak that formerly belonged to Selene. It would do.
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She approached the wooden cabin across the clearing but stopped when something caught her eye. A few feet away from her was the dagger, partly covered in her blood. She stared at the untarnished side of the blade as it gleamed in the light of the rising sun. She hesitantly picked it up and caught a glimpse of her reflection. She froze. The mask on her face had turned black, covered in feathers, fused into her skin. She wanted to scream, to curse the demon who condemned her to this, but no sound could ever escape her lips again. Her hands shook violently as she gripped the handle of the dagger. She did not want this. She did not even bother to brace herself as she plunged the blade into her stomach.
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…
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The loud crash from the mirror being thrown against the floor caused the ravens to jump and squawk in alarm. The Raven Witch stared at the shattered fragments scattered across the old cabin floor. It had been far too long ago. She was acutely aware of just how much time had passed and she hated every moment of it. One of the ravens nudged her hand and she absentmindedly stroked its smooth feathers.
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Of course, she was not the only one who had to suffer. After all, she had her own Unkindness of ravens. Her pets. They could not leave her, nor did they have any desire to do so. At least, not anymore. They are as mindless as the witches who killed her, and just as brutal as the town located not far from her woods.
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She did not want this, but she was condemned to it. She knew that the people who were foolish enough to wander into her woods did not want to be condemned either, but she did not care. She could not care any longer, for that part of her had died too.
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Outside of the seemingly abandoned cabin, some of her ravens cawed to alert her. The Raven Witch trailed her claws across her slashed neck and over the silver heart necklace she wore. Her bluish lips pulled back into a twisted smile as she waited for her next victim and pet to arrive.
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