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27 Aug

The Good Witch of the East End Mall Part Seven

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen

There they were. There were six of them waiting for us. The thing about these witches was that they looked like normal people. The Terrible Three all looked like they were dressed from 1790. What was odd to me was that two of them were men. I’ve never seen a male witch before—wizard or warlock, whatever they are.

“Helena,” said the witch standing in the front. She didn’t look any older than Helena. “You are such a disappointment.”

Helena didn’t say anything.

“Time and time again you have defied us,” she continued. “Now here you are with a paladin, like some gremlin.” Was she talking about Mygle? Does she actually know about Mygle?

“I’ve never agreed with your archaic values,” Helena blurted.

“Indeed.”

The two stared at each other like they were in a duel, waiting for the other one to shoot first.

“It took us a long time to track you,” the witch continued. “You’ve always been a slippery one.”

“I’ve always been the stronger one,” Helena stated. “Wasn’t that hard to mask myself from you.”

“And yet you made a simple mistake by contacting this low life.”

I went to say something but Helena cut me off.

“I’m not in the mood to see the world end.”

The witch laughed and the rest of them joined in, like it was all a big joke. I found myself imagining different ways to kill them. My favorite thing to do to a witch is to light them on fire, watching them turn into a pile of ashes.

I noticed that one of the male witches in the back—I still wasn’t sure to call them yet—was looking at my sister and me with an eerie curiosity. I wondered how old he was. Maybe he’d never seen a paladin in his life before. One thing that I could guarantee was that we would definitely be the last ones.

He saw that I noticed and smiled like I was a piece of steak. I was going to kill him first.

“Oh sister,” the witch began. She was Helena’s sister. “Neither are we.”

“You always were a snot,” Helena said.

“At least I never acted like I was better than everyone.”

“That’s because you’re not.”

“You never change.”

“Look,” I cut in. “I would love to hear all about your problems but we have places to go, people to see, you know.”

“I’m afraid you won’t be going anywhere.”

“Do you think you’re going to stop me? I’ll have you know that I killed the Terrible Three.”

None of them seemed even slightly impressed or scared by that fact.

“Why doesn’t anyone care about that?” I asked myself.

“You have no escape,” Helena’s sister promised us.

“Helena?” I said, demanding her attention.

“Yes?” she replied.

“How bad do you care if you sister is alive?”

“Not at all.” That was enough for me.

I jumped forward with my guns at my sides…

The Good Witch of the East End Mall: Part Seven

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