Emmie found herself in a dark room filled with ancient magic. The curtains were tightly closed. She could hear whispers of the witches chanting. She rubbed her eyes only to realise she wasn't alone. A hooded stood in front of her. The figure chanted spells that Emmie knew. She tilted her head up with a smirk. "Nice try". she said her voice was filled with confidence. "But I'm a witch too, darling. Your little tricks won't work on me".
The hooded witch paused her magic, The room fell silent momentarily. At last, a sour laugh echoed through the room. "Strange words for someone stuck to my property. "Can you defeat the old magic that has trapped you here?". Emerald kept her defiant posture as she crossed her arms. "Believe me, I've experienced worse than a magical lockdown. Now, how about you just tell me what you want".
With faint footsteps resonating throughout the small room, the hooded figure circled her. "You have something we want, something with enormous power." "Care to be more specific?" Emerald arched an eyebrow and squinted. "Your blood," the witch replied mysteriously. "It holds everything we want to access."
Emerald's shocked, "You want to take my blood? It's not for sale, I'm sorry to have to tell you that. And most definitely not for any dark rituals you may have in mind." Emmie felt the hooded witch laugh loudly, causing her to shiver. "Aren't we stubborn?".
Ever the curious one, Emmie couldn't help but wonder about her surroundings. Why are the curtains drawn closed? Despite the unusual situation, she said casually, "It could use some light in here. But the hooded witch moved quickly, raising a hand in a commanding manner. They commanded, "Halt!" with such power that the entire room felt it. Emerald said, "A little too attached to your interior design, huh?" Her teasing didn't seem funny to the hooded figure. "Witch now is not the time for jokes."
Perched on the steps, Emmie's expression was a mixture of curiosity and defiance. Her eyes flew around the dark space, "You know, trapping me in a mysterious house with closed curtains wasn't exactly what I had in mind for my evening plans," she joked. The hooded witch did not say anything, their features lost in the darkness. Sighing, Emmie pretended to be bored. "So, are we playing a game or just enjoying the darkness of this place?"
When the hooded figure finally spoke, it was in a low, authoritative voice. "Emerald Fowler, there's a reason you're here. We need the power that your blood contains because it flows through your veins." With a tinge of sarcasm, Emmie laughed. Isn't that flattering, then? However, I don't like giving my blood to random people."
With a severe reply, the witch said, "You have no say in the matter." Emmie furrowed her brow. "Rather than promises and blood rituals, can't we just have a polite discussion? I assure you, being free is much more enjoyable for me." Her attempts at humour appeared not to affect the hooded figure. "Your disrespect won't result in any changes. The ritual will still go on."
