The Wiccan Chosen One (The Sequel for A New Life)

The Wiccan Chosen One (Chap. 11)

{Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long. I have having quite a bit of Writer's Block on this chapter but I forced myself to sit down and just write it. I know some of you will be a little mad at me, but I knew that this chapter was going to happen even before I started to actually write the sequel. Intake always helps!  

-Katie}

Chapter 11 

~~~Sara's P.O.V. ~~~ 

Revenge. Revenge was the only thing that got me through the hell-like eternity that I was stuck in perpetually. No, not perpetually. I would get out of here, even if it was the last thing that I did.

Screams filled the air around me. Screams of humans, witches, warlocks, females, males, familiars, going on and on, all of the things that I had ever killed. The screams were so many and so deafening that I couldn't even hear my own anguished cries.

There was no sense of time where I was. The world around me was nothing but black and screams, nothing else, no one. I was alone. The screams never changed, and neither did my pain. I felt an inferno of flames licking my skin, knives slicing through my skin, lighting burning me, my insides turning to molten liquid. I was in constant pain every second of what seemed like centuries, but what could have been seconds.

In all of my hundred and thirty-two years of being a warlock, I had never felt such pain.... It might also have to do with the fact that all of the pain that I was feeling is the pain of what had happened to the screaming voices around me. In the pain, I had forgotten who I had been both back when I was human and when I was a warlock, I was filled with nothing but hate and my need for revenge.

I banish you to suffer in all of the pain that you have inflicted! Those words, those few words spoken by that little witch, who could barely even cast spells, that sent me here to my own personal hell. I would get out, and when I did, I would get her. Sometimes, I was able to ignore that pain enough to imagine all the different things I would do to her before I killed her. I would do it slowly, so she could at least get a fraction of the pain of what happened to me here before I would kill that other useless witch of a boyfriend in front of her and then send her here herself.

I just had to get out of here first.

I felt a pull. Even through the never-ending pain I felt, I felt that pull. Suddenly, the pain... stopped. Maybe I was numb, maybe I was dead, whatever the reason, for the moment, I didn't care.

"You're not what I expected, warlock," a voice said. I hadn't heard another person talk in so long that at first, I didn't realize what was happening.

I pried my heavy eyelids open and then instinct had me using my unswerving powers to lift me off of the ground. It was dark wherever I was, but it wasn't like my prison, it was just... night. In this moment, I knew without a doubt that I was back on Earth, out of my hell once and for all.

Over a hundred years of being a warlock gave me the ability to push off whatever fatigue I was feeling and face whoever had summoned me without even so much as wavering. "What do you want, witch?" I asked. My voice sounded colder than glaciers. After all I had been through, there was no pretence of civility left in me, only my hate and a hunger for revenge.

"You. But you don't really seem to be all that they say you are."

I rolled my eyes, sick of this talk already. The witch's screams filled the air as if started on fire. "You're wasting my time," I sighed.

"I have something you want," the witch gasped.

I didn't even blink as I called off the fire that I had conjured. "There is only one thing that I want and it is a witch's head on a platter. Talk, and if it is not what I want to hear, I will kill you slowly instead of quickly as I had planned."