'Hush, little boy, hush,
Your mother's hand will cover your sins,'
Astre hummed as he jumped around the trees, the branches creaking under his weight. His eyes peered at his new-to-be-trained girl.
He usually slept while training, but the last two had died, and Nina had almost killed him. So he decided to follow this little girl who was around his age.
Then again, it was not like it was his fault; all of these half-witches were so pathetic and scared.
But surprisingly, this girl was not even a half-witch, a pure human.
Astre grinned.
He was quite curious as to how the girl would survive this one. It was one thing to threaten humans and say she could fight, but to lay your bones bare and swallow your fears? That was another.
Oh well, if she died, Nina would probably put him on probation. He could always break free.
He watched the girl run. And run. All he could say was that she was quite fast. Nothing else stood out. Maybe her red eyes, or that her mother was a half-witch, witch hunter.
But none of the mother's bravery was seen in the daughter's steps.
He yawned.
'Bash the witch's head and no end will come,
Sparks of fire, and it will walk on pins'
The only way to kill witches was by fire; that was the law.
Unless it were the Walpurgis. Because that meant you were dead.
Astre looked down. The girl had disappeared.
He sighed.
"Did that girl die?"
He jumped to the ground, a few branches caught in his clothes.
Looking to his sides, there were neither any witches nor any girls.
'When the sunlight disappears, the witches appear,
When the man screams, the head must be gone,'
And he heard a scream. A voice like scratches on blackboards and dying birds. The sound sounded terrified.
It sounded like a witch.
The girl sure had a scratchy voice.
He should at the very least recover her body. He walked to the voice. The loud, unwelcoming one.
And his eyes met hers.
Red, red eyes like blood.
Nails dug deep, deep into the witch's body.
Her teeth were tearing it apart.
She swallowed it.
"Damn, all that running and you still find out?"
"Well, this was unexpected," Astre whistled.
She bit into the shadow-like creature once more, it was like biting into a transparent sheet of nothing. But the witch screamed, and the witch fought, and the witch was dying.
"Can you not tell anyone?"
"Depends," Astre smirked and walked near the feasting girl.
"On what?" She looked at him, her eyebrows raised and mouth full.
"What even are you doing?" He bent down to her level.
"Eating a witch?" She told him with a scrunched face.
He sighed and bit back, "No, that looks like a donut, no?"
"Does it?" She looked at it, or what remained of it.
"Of-fucking-course not." He rolled his eyes as he watched her eat the final piece.
"What are you even trying to say, Mr. Brainless?" She scowled.
"That you are brainelesser." He got up and showed her the middle finger.
"That ain't a word," she scoffed.
"Language is free." He stated as he walked away.
"So is a library, dumb-fuck," she said, and he turned to her. His mouth opened, and offended.
"I don't like you."
"I don't need you to." She stuck out her tongue at him.
"What are you? Five?" He mocked
"Well, better than an ungrown fetus?" She stood up, dusting herself.
"Do you want your secret to be revealed?" He threatened.
"Oh well fuck it I don't care." She sneered.
"I can't believe you are Miss Avery's daughter!"
"I can't believe you are a damn adult!"
Both glared at each other. As though they were lifelong enemies. As though a frog and a snake.
Because one was going to eat the other sooner or later.
Astre took a deep breath in—
'Some witches are found in bunches,
Some prey alone,'
"I heard you humming this tune a lot." The girl said after a moment of silence.
"Sharp hearing for an idiot." He muttered
"Ugh, so annoying." He walked away, "What's your name again?"
"Mierre Avery." She answered.
"I'm–"
"Astre Fate—the new witch hunt hero!" Mierre completed his sentence.
"Sure did your research, huh!" Astre raised an eyebrow.
"It's not about research, you just happen to be my favorite?" Mierre smiled to herself.
Astre stopped.
"Huh!"
Mierre glared at him, "What?"
"What kind of person calls their favourite a dumb fuck?" He frowned.
"Well, my favourite happens to be a dumb-fuck, so it's fine." She walked away to the front.
"So rude! Kids these days." He taunted.
"I'm older than you!" She yelled back.
"You look and act like you are ten." He yelled back, ran to her.
"Thanks to my solid skin care routine." She patted her face.
"What is the secret?" He asked, smiling.
"Money."
"Cringe."
"Shut up, I grew up with a lot of money and people to take care of me." She sighed.
"Then why are you even doing this? Revenge for your mom's death?" He laughed.
"Nah, my mum was an abusive ass," she said without looking at him. "My mum never wanted me to work as a witch hunter, so here I am."
"When she is dead?" He raised an eyebrow.
"She was scary dammit." She shuddered at the very thought of her mother.
"True." He hummed, "I knew her, and she didn't seem like a bad person."
There was silence, but Mierre spoke after a moment.
"I guess I never knew the good person she was."
"Well, maybe I never knew the bad one," he answered immediately.
"Do you have a stomach ache?" He asked after a moment of quiet.
"No—but I might throw up." She answered.
He chuckled, "How did the witch taste?"
"Like vomit."
"Ew."
She looked at him and asked, "What was the tune you were humming?"
"A lullaby my mum used to sing." He said.
"Where's the rest?" She asked.
"Well…you have time to find out." He hummed.
She stopped and looked at the midnight sky. He looked back. "I guess, I'm with the co. now"
"Welcome to the witch hunt co. then"