Chaos

Dying to Kill

"we're here," Judith announced frankly. 

"Hmpf", I huffed. Realistically I was in no condition to be amounting a rescue, but I'd run out of time, staving off the mutation the best I could. I grabbed the headrest as leverage and exited the car in a single breath. 

I shut the door behind me, and Judith drove off, dusting me with snow. She could've hesitated a little. 

Anyways, is this the place?
It does seem quite familiar... but I know I haven't seen it before, at least not in reality. Maybe in my dreams. Also, it was snowing, which was unusual in this area.

The witch had nestled her den in the centre of a cursed web tucked in a snow forest and thin, tall trees. Dark wood splintered and reached for each other like skeletal hands, creaking as the wind flew through them. They would shake, but dry bark would crumble to the floor instead of freshly falling leaves.

Whatever it was she was doing here, it stole the life of the surrounding area, stripping it of any natural redemption. It wasn't even supposed to be cold here, at least not enough to snow, and yet my feet mushed into the glittery ice clouds with every step.

My breath was unevenly fogging before my face; I was sure I could've been hallucinating this cold. The earliest mutation made it impossible to feel anything, including this unnatural cold atmosphere. I wonder if Primrose anticipated the extent of my latest mutation. Meanwhile, I only realized I could keep having mutations outside the facility about 10 hours ago. 

She told me to show up alone, and I listened, which in hindsight, seems foolish. I was stumbling over my feet and pale with internal bleeding wracking my organs. 

I didn't like this feeling.
I was at a disadvantage in this situation, and Lucille was somewhere in there, waiting for me, I hope. 

She could be scared and shivering in this unnatural cold; 

She could be dying, feeding the soil her lifeblood; 

She could be a monster.

I don't feel anything right now, and that's good. But, despite that, a little thought wished you hadn't found me in that tundra... Lucille.

"You came..." her voice called to me.
I looked up and saw Lucille standing just outside the door to the hut. She was in a plain white dress with her hair flowing freely down her shoulders—a Demon.

If this thing is here, does this mean she's dead?

"You came for me-"
"Shut your mouth, demon." I spat my blood onto the rotten roots of a tree I'd leant on for stability.

Lucille's face dropped as if expressing sadness or confusion. Then it crawled into an unsuppressed grin. The monster touched its lips as if unable to control its filthy thoughts.

"Princess, you are wise and keen, but look at you." The demon cackled with her voice. Lucille would never make such an ugly laugh. 

I had to gasp for air as the thing taunted me, tossing snow onto my face. At least I knew now that it was real. I'd hate for my lung to collapse right now; I thought the worse had passed when I took that poison earlier. 

"I'm only dying... that's not enough to kill me."

My throat was coated with my own blood, inflamed and shrinking. I sounded weak, which was good for them to assume, but not if it was a true testament to my actual condition. I can do without a little air, but it's hard to stand up straight right now. 

The demon observed me a little in silent amusement, eying me like a tiger lying in wait. It was practically salivating over me.

"The Diathyst's are defenceless when it comes to their bonded", the demon drew closer. I could catch its smell from here, like a rotting plant. "Allow me to end your misery, princess."