Chapter 5

  She woke to find herself in a large garden surrounded by hundreds, if not thousands, of roses of all colours and sizes. A million smells hit her at the same time. This was heaven. Was she dead?

  No, she wasn't. Her arms and legs had been chained with a thick steel chain, and she couldn't move at all. She looked at her legs and saw there was a big, huge metal ball tied to it.

  “Ah, she's awake,” she heard a voice say. “That's good. The sacrifice doesn't work unless she's awake and can feel the pain,” said a voice.

  Another voice answered, “Why is that? Why do the beings care if she's dead or alive?”

  “You see, these beings not only want her blood, they also want her to suffer. It brings them great joy, and that's why they reward us.”

  “Will they really just give us ￡50,000 for sacrificing this ugly, flat-chested girl? Normally I like to have fun with my victims, but she doesn't turn me at all. She's built like a boy. Hey! Aren't you gay? Maybe she turns you on?”

  “No, she doesn't. She's too ugly to even be a boy. But it doesn't matter. She has to be a virgin, especially if you want more money.”

  She still couldn't see clearly. Her view was foggy and hazy; whatever they had hit her with, the poison was still in her body. One of her captors bent down to her and she could smell his after a shave. “Listen little girl, you're about to die. You may have noticed we have stripped you naked.”

  She hadn't noticed but she did now. She was completely naked and lying on the hard, cold ground.

  “We're going to cut the rope, and you will be dragged through the rose fields into a well at the end. We want you to scream and cry. It won't help you, but it pleases the other beings who reward us. And the more you suffer, the more we get paid. Okay, sweet girl? I'm sorry you are going to die a virgin, seeing how ugly you are, but hey, that's life. Enjoy!” She heard him cut something that looked like a rope, and suddenly she was dragged by her feet and the heavy ball that had been chained to her legs.

  Within seconds, she entered the garden part of wherever she was and went through the rose bushes. It was more pain than she could have ever imagined. A million thorns cut through her skin, cutting through every inch of her body.

  For some reason, the steel ball slowed down as she went through each rose bush. The roses seemed to be laughing at her pain. She screamed. She cried. Nothing worked. She was kept being dragged down the field until she looked down and saw that every centimetre of her skin was covered in blood. She was bleeding profusely and knew she would die of blood loss in seconds if the fall into that well didn't kill her.

  Finally, she felt her ankles go over an empty space and heard the ball crash down, realising it was almost over. She grabbed a rose bush, and it pierced her soft palm of the right hand. She screamed in agony as the rose bush wrapped around her arm and started drinking her blood thirstily.

  And that's when she felt a shadow come and stare in front of her.

  “So, Snow White, bleeding to death in a field of roses. How does it feel?”

  “Help me,” she said. “Help me.”

  “No. I told you the rules. I'm the Storyteller, not the story creator. So Yuki, will you die here alone and pathetic, begging for your life, or will you take control of the story?”

  He leaned closer to her ear and whispered his words, charged with ancient and very powerful magic.

  Yuki. Hey Yuki. Tell us a story, will ya? Tell us an interesting story. About a girl hanging on the edge of a well a few moments away from death. What happens to her?

  “You want a story? Fine. I'll tell you. I'll tell you right now.” And she did. She told him the story of her life.

  How on her 18th birthday she had almost been raped and killed. How she had discovered that she was the archetype of an ancient dark witch. How she had first tried to run away from danger and avoid getting involved. And how later on she had gone the other extreme and made the second mistake of being overconfident, which had led her to being captured because she had never even imagined that the cultists were really smart and would use robots to trap her.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “That's a nice story, Yuki, but how does it end? Does this story have a happy ending or a sad ending? Remember what I told you? More than 70% of stories end in death, suffering, and pain. Is your story going to end today, Yuki? Tell us, Yuki. How does your story end?”

  Great anger and great determination filled her. She pulled herself up a few inches. “I'll tell you how it will not end. It will not end with me dying here. It will not end with a bad guy's winning. That's not my story. I'm going to win this. I'm going to crush the enemies.”

  “And how's that? You seem to be out of all tricks, Yuki?”

  “I don't care, I'm not dying here today. I am the Cursed Fairy Godmother, the Dark Witch who can only curse, never bless. And I am the only Cursed Godmother who uses her powers to help people, not hurt them.

  That's an interesting story, a story no one has told before. So I'm going to get out of here, I'm going to rescue those girls and I'm going to kill every single one of those cultists and teach them a lesson they'll never forget. That will be an interesting story, but the story will never happen if I die here, so I cannot die here, I will not die here, I'm gonna survive this.

  You hear that Mr Storyteller? I am getting out of here. This is my story, and I'm not some side character. I'm the main character, and in no story does a main character die at the halfway mark. So shut the hell up and pull me out of here.”

  The Storyteller bursts out laughing. “You certainly have me impressed. And you have the goddess of stories impressed as well. She certainly likes your plucky attitude; and you're right, the main heroine doesn't die at the halfway mark. Since you are willing to stand up and accept your role, the story goddess will let me help you a little.”

  He spoke in an ancient, magical tone: And by the power of her will, the chains holding her shattered, and she was finally free. Yuki pulled herself up on the cold dirt ground, still a little wet with her blood.

  And just as he said it, the chains indeed did shatter and she could pull herself up. But it was slow and dangerous climb, as her blood made her almost slip down the well a few times.

  “Thanks for helping me,” she said.

  “No, Yuki, let me repeat, you didn't understand me the first time. I do not help people; I am the Storyteller, not the story creator. The creator of this story has decided to help you. Call her the Goddess of Stories, call her the Fates, call her the Destinies—whatever you like. But it's her who decided to help you, not me. I must leave now. Remember to pick up your clothes, and remember those two clowns outside are expecting a reward for your sacrifice.”

  She still had to walk through the field of the roses, and they still tried to bite and drink her blood. She didn't have her bones, but she still had her body. She took a few drops of her own blood, filled it with magical energy and threw it on a rose.

  I bless you with eternal sunshine and everlasting days.

  She could actually hear the roses screaming in pain as they turned to ashes like they were being burned under a harsh sun. Within a few minutes, the whole field was covered in ashes. Not a single rose existed.

  She found her clothes lying at the end of the garden. Ahead of her was a large wall and she could hear the two clowns laughing behind it. She put on her clothes and walked up to them. They were really surprised to see her, so surprised that they didn't even have time to draw their guns.

  “So you wanted a financial reward, did you? I don't have ￡50,000, but my magic will allow you to give you ￡500.”

  I bless you, my children. May you be wealthy and rich. May ￡500 appear inside your stomach in one penny coins. May you be overfilled with the wealth of your hard work.

  She didn't wait to see the effect of her magic; she knew it would be nasty from the coughs, the screams, and the vomiting noises, and finally the two bodily explosions.

  She was still in extreme pain and she felt her clothes start to get wet with blood. Her eyes were still hazy and she couldn't see where she was going. Luckily, she seemed to be outside and no longer in that maze. A few minutes of walking and she found herself on the main road. That's where she debated what to do. She still had her day bus pass, but she was sure the bus driver would be forced to call the ambulance or police if he saw her in this state.

  “Oh my god”! She heard a scream. “Yuki, is that you? It's me, it's me, Jenny!”

  Jenny was a cook at the cafe where she worked. She was a nice girl if a bit empty headed. She seemed to talk a lot and never cared or bothered that Yuki never replied. Today Yuki was grateful to see her.

  “Jenny, can you take me back to Lady Mirabelle's place?”

  “You kidding? I'm taking you to the doctor.”

  “No, please! I need to see Lady Mirabelle!”

  “Ok, I don't know what's happened, but I trust you. Come on, I have my car round the corner.”

  She doesn't remember the car drive at all. The next thing she remembered was walking to the door and Mirabelle and Isabella staring at her in shock.

  Lady Mirabelle broke into tears as she saw her and grabbed her by the arm. “I should give you a good beating, my little girl. To teach you a lesson—maybe later.”

  She was forcefully dragged to the shower upstairs and Mirabelle washed her blood off.

  Isabella looked on in shock. “Doesn't she need a doctor?”

  “No,” said Lady Mirabelle. “This is cursed magic, caused by some sort of vampiric attack. Doctors won't be able to do anything. Do me a favour. There's some antiseptic liquid in the kitchen downstairs. Bring that and pour it into a bucket of water and add some rose water. I'm going to remove the dark magic.”

  Mirabelle cleaned her wounds with antiseptic and rose water while chanting a spell. Yuki felt the stinging pain that had been burning her whole body until the time started to go down. It took a few minutes before the pain completely went away, but she was still covered in blood. “Put on some clothes, dear. Let's make you some tea, and you can tell me all about that adventure you had.”