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“You are cursed,” she whispered as she began to fade away.
The dust grew as it got closer, and Edgar scrambled up, falling over the back of his chair to try to escape it, but it enveloped him all the same.
In the end, he’d spend decades trying to escape it, doing everything he could, going insane in the effort.
But just as she promised he would, he always failed.
* * * *
Two Hours Later
In another room in the Derryman house in Newton…
The green mist formed in the corner.
And the witch formed of the mist.
She wore clothing from her world.
Her heels were high.
Even so, she walked to the bed on silent cat’s feet.
She gazed down on the sleeping woman, her glorious leonine hair unbound and all over the pillow.
“Finally, a challenge,” she whispered.
She took in a breath.
And then Valentine Rousseau stated, “Now, Lady Maxine, let’s see about you.”
The End
* * * *
