Cannibal Witch

Spur of the moment writing inspired by an image found on Tumblr. Source link for image is here:

The wind gusted through the forest, sending branches shivering and tree groaning. The leaves whimpered and shushed themselves, and the dangling mannequins thunked against the nearby trunks. The woman closed her eyes, throwing her head back , letting the wind whip through her knotted and stringy hair. She tugged against the red ribbons that held her there, throwing her weight against the wind, straining against the bonds. Dark crimson lights shot through the ribbons, crackling as they reached her skin, singing them. Smoke curled upwards, and she released a shriek. Not of pain, but of frustration. How long must she remain tied here? Did they really think that this was going to stop her? It was only a matter of time, after all, until she was let free. The mannequins clunked together, reminding her of why she was there.

Cannibal witch.

A smile curled on her ruby chapped lips, hazel eyes darkening. Oh the poor fool she had tricked and taken, how glorious it had been! Each one a game, an art, and she the artist and maker. Ten mannequins either lay or were hanging in close proximity to her, but there were at least thirty others strewn about. Fifty-three mannequin torsos around  her, fifty-three hearts she had charmed, captured, ripped out, and eaten.

Cannibal witch.

She giggled as her eyes traveled to each one, gleaning old memories from the number count. It was meant to be a punishment, the mannequins a reminder of her foul deeds, but it was not, perhaps, as they had intended it. Her only annoyance was the gleefully blood-colored ribbons that held her where she was. Giving one more tug, she sighed, and rolled her neck. A sound in the distance caused her to look sharply to her left. What was there? Hoofbeats… and footsteps.

Her smile turned maniacal, joyous, rapturous. 

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

A young man, lost? Oh the Fates were ever so kind. Had no one warned the young fool? Of the horrible witch that lay within? Shaking back her red mane of hair, she closed her eyes, letting fake tears travel down her cheeks. Lined and dirt-smeared skin soon transformed into pale supple flesh, the tattered remnants of rags turning into a beautiful gown. Lips became full and plump, hair a rippling tide of silk. 

“Over here, please!”

The voice of a young maiden, not an old crone came forth, lovely and enticing, and utterly desperate. Throaty, deep… sensual. Could he resist? Would he resist?

The young traveler soon approached, and she watched with satisfaction, worry and fear written on her face as she held out her tied wrists, heady pheromones choking the air that they breathed.

“Please… help me? I just need you to untie my wrists…”

He was not as young as she thought, but no wise old man. He was just beginning to lose his youth, and as such, had fallen completely under her spell. The ribbons chained her here, but they could not suppress all of her magic, not the kind that was easily fueled by lust and imagination. She begged him closer, collapsing against him when he was but a foot away. His words meant nothing, fell on deaf ears. Pressing her face to his chest, she closed her eyes, fake tears streaming, her sadistic smile mistaken for one of relief. His heart was beating strongly, she could feel it through his chest. smell his blood-scent, and her insides quivered. 

“Free me,” her voice had gone husky, deep, inviting. 

The young man paused, as if some instinct was alerted of his danger, but she made a small mewling sound and snuggled against him. He shuddered, and then obediently began to work at the miserable ribbons on her wrists, all the while leaving her to lean against his chest, and his heart.

“Good boy,” she whispered, tears dried, all need for a pretense gone. Instead, she counted his heart beats, feeling a tightening in her stomach and loins. Yes, he was a good boy indeed, and she was sure he tasted delicious. The mannequins shivered in the gusts of wind that came and went, each one clattering about in worry and fear, sadness and warning. She would feast tonight.

Cannibal witch.

Reviews

[Aekmy]

Grammatical errors aside, your interpretation of the picture is enjoyable. My favorite line is "he was just beginning to lose his youth, and as such, had fallen completely under her spell". The descriptive words of her appearance and deceptive intent paint a more powerful image than the picture itself. The story stands alone by itself well even without the picture. Very enjoyable!

[Lily Mae]

I love it... from top to bottom ..perfect..x