After School

2.51 The Witch

September 17, 1946: After School

Vanessa.

That was the name the courteous dark-haired boy she met during her girlhood gave her.

Vanessa the Witch.

That was the name the same boy who betrayed her and revealed himself as the Devil gave her when he turned her into a witch.

The final words of Yuta the Witch resonated within Vanessa deeply. It was simple yet beautiful, and she couldn't be more pleased with the revelation of her true name. For that reveal truly set her free from the binds the Devil placed in the afterlife she was living. It was not only Yuta's final words but also his final spell.

Vanessa's sullen eyes flickered towards the boy witch. She watched as Yuta ripped the knife out of his chest. Although she was merely a spirit visible to some, she flinched and grimaced at the action. His cry was a deafening sound, guttural chokes mixed with an agonized roar. His friends that surrounded him were unable to react to the sound because one faulty move would ruin the entire ritual. Their feet were planted firmly as Yuta dropped to the ground, convulsing as thick blood flowed freely from the hole in his heart. The cascade of the boy's life source gushed out in all directions, scarlet liquid squirting all over Jimmy, who lay beside him.

His draining violet eyes flashed towards her momentarily, and she smiled warmly at him before his cries came to a halt. It was the final image he saw before the white light took over and the warmth left his body. His head dropped and the light in his eyes vanished, leaving behind anguish in Vanessa's heart.

The boy knew that if he didn't sacrifice himself for what he wanted, what he wanted would become the sacrifice. Everything would have turned out terribly, had he not taken a step forward and allowed the fear to wash over. The difference between taking the step forward or not was everything and over a lifetime it would define who one was. All those steps would build a strong soul and soon, being brave would become a way of being.

In the end, Yuta was the bravest of them all.

She groggily turned to walk towards Wilson Stevenson, who she knew would die next. She kneeled to the man's side and held him, sweeping away the hair that matted against his forehead. Her heart still stung from the witch boy's death, but she figured she could at least be by Wilson's dying side.

"Vanessa the Witch?" Wilson grumbled confusedly, tilting his head to see his mother approach him. "That was your name this entire time?"

"Vanessa," she corrected, nodding sombrely. "I am no longer a witch. As is Yuta."

"Vanessa... you were no witch to me. You were always my mother," Wilson whispered feebly, as he outstretched his hands to cup his mother's quivering face. "But I already told you that, didn't I?" he said, smiling faintly.

His eyelids blinked slowly and they lingered on the face of his mother. A teardrop streamed down his cheek and splattered silently onto the floor. Vanessa squeezed her eyes shut as his lower body slowly disintegrated in her hands. He grabbed onto the hem of her black dress as his mother rocked him back and forth soothingly.

"Thank you, Wilson," she murmured, stroking his wrist.

Her bony fingers travelled downwards to caress the Devil's mark upon him, which was surprisingly warm. As her son disintegrated, particles, that looked like dark rose petals, drifted into the air and intertwined with the ordinary dust. She had seen this sight numerous times with her previous sons, but it never pained her as much as this.

She held Wilson with caress as he slowly died and studied her son who hated her for two hundred years. At that moment, she couldn't recall why he hated her. Perhaps it was when she scolded him for running away from the forest in his childhood. Vanessa's heart shattered as she recalled the regret present in Wilson's eyes during her dying moments. A choked cry forced itself up her throat and she desperately wanted to assure her son that she was never angry at him. But there was so little time left.