[HH1v1] Fight Like A Girl (Stormy&Belladonna) FIN

[AyeAvast]

A broken bird was exactly how the witch felt in this particular moment.
She had the ability to fly out of this situation, she had the tools that would spell her freedom, but they had been broken and she was stuck. How did little birds survive if they could not fly?
"You came here for someone's attention too..." The witch mumbled, taking a breath as the sword moved up to touch closer to her face. Having it pointed at her stomach was really bad, but having it pointed at her throat was the worst.
This wasn't going to end soon, but there had to be a way to hurry it along. For a moment the witch squeezed her eyes shut to think. There had to be options, alternate endings to this scenario. If only she could stop her frantic worrying to just figure out what that was!
"Wh-what's a squib?" Stalling was really all she had.

But she had something else too. While she might not think she did, the witch really and truly did. She was made of Fear, she was born of magic, and she had both of those at her fingertips. Even if she couldn't really move them that well.
A small voice in her mind, one that always seemed to warn of danger, piped up then that magic didn't require movement. It just required heart.
"A lady always finishes her fights." The witch mumbled with a sigh, opening her eyes to give the girl a pointed frown before she closed them once more and gave a tiny whimper.
That bit of noise was all she needed for her cards to appear, unable to form their circle around her but at least able to attempt to buffer against the Hunter with their sharp edges.  

[medigel]

It was about time it fought back. There was no point coming here if all she got was a living dummy to hit.

The cards took Stormy by surprise, however, and the greatsword was pulled away to try and bat at the ones too close to her (a hard to pull off motion given the length and balance of the blade) as she stepped away; nevertheless, several nicked her shield and she felt the uncomfortable though dulled edges against her skin. she was forced to take a few more steps back to compensate for her weapon, shaking her surprise off.

Nothing up her sleeves, she couldn't help but think.

"No," Stormy answered truthfully, "I'm not here for that. I just came to test myself." If she'd wanted attention, she'dve . . . let Gale know where she was going. Which she had. Maybe that was a little attention seeking, but she wanted to tell someone--and Gale was the only one she could alert who couldn't stop her. But the witch was right about one thing: a lady did finish her fights.

Adjusting her grip on the handle, she raised the greatsword into a readied position. "Whose attention do you want?"

AyeAvast

 

[AyeAvast]

The second the pressure of the sword lifted off the witch, so too did the bones which gripped her to the ground. She scrambled up and back with a gasp, the action made all the more difficult with one hand wrapped around her stomach that ached something fierce. Thankfully, her cards were not only defending her quite nicely, but they also provided a desperately needed distraction. It took the ghoul a few stumbles before she found her feet so that by the time she was standing her face was flushed and her breathing was much closer to a pant. But she was still up, she wasn't out of this fight yet.
"Test yourself? Well! Aren't you just oh-so-proud then?" The voice the witch spoke in wasn't familiar, far too haggard to sound right. The arm around her stomach clutched at herself tighter in an attempt to help steel her shaky nerves.
There was still a fight to finish and she couldn't run away when she was finally going through with her original plan. It would be a wasted trip, otherwise.

Yet the girl's question hung in the air between them, her sword a physical embodiment of just how sharp and huge a question that was. Done attacking the hunter for the moment, the witch's cards flitted back to complete their circle around her. They shuddered in the air, far more energetic than their breathless owner, almost upset she had waited so long before she called on them. But patient nonetheless they waited for her command, waited further still for her answer.
As much as Belladonna did not want to admit it, she had come here for someone's attention. But she had also not told him of her whereabouts, so in the regard of gaining said attention she had failed spectacularly. Besides, what would have happened if this had gone exactly as she had wanted? She certainly wouldn't have swung happily into her dorm room and chirped out her success to Mort. He would be furious, and probably hate her.
But if she had breezed through this, what would have happened? If that had been the case the witch would have simply felt better. She would have been reaffirmed in her abilities to handle stressful situations. Something would have gone right for once. She would have felt as though she were helping rather than continuing to be a burden.

"No one knows I'm here." The witch finally answered, hating how awful such a truth sounded. That was not the thing to say to the creature who had just stuck a sword edge to one's throat, but the witch was running ragged. The situation had turned far worse than she'd expected, and quite honestly, she was tired. Still, a foolish plan had formed in her head, but it was better to execute that than nothing at all.
Though it hurt, Belladonna let go of her torso to reach out with both hands into her circle, shaking fingertips folding over a card she pulled out. There was reverence in her motions as she brought the card forward to face the girl. Two steps were taken backward before the witch hurled the card, the thing shooting forward only to burst half the distance between witch and hunter into the tall shape of her Death knight.
While its shape was familiar, something felt off about it. Something was wrong...

A curse left the witch as she backed up all the more, her plan not going well. Really, she should have known better since nothing had gone as she'd wanted today.
The Death knight stepped forward, its lance hefted into skeletal hands at the girl. But its legs were turning into black smoke, its form insubstantial and beginning to fade. Belladonna staggered backwards once more, pink eyes wide as the realization of how marvelously she had failed dawning. Not only was she going to lose, this worthless Hunter was going to torture her until she dissipated. Not willing to give that option a chance, the witch turned and scrambled away, failing even at that as she tripped on the forest floor of uncolored leaves.  

[medigel]

No-one knew? Very dangerous...opportunistic even. As much as Stormy felt uneasy about the idea, she was aware not all converts to Deus were willing. And she had just earned the runic chains, though they weren't as effective as the capture guns Death used...But no. No, she didn't want to try and capture it this time. There was no point in it: no pleasure in dragging something screaming and kicking when it wanted to flee instead.

"What happened to finishing the fight?" Stormy taunted at the witch's back, though her mouth quickly sealed when the Death Knight had arisen. Paling, she inched back just a bit, bracing herself for the attack. But something was wrong if the witch was running away--maybe it wasn't supposed to have ominous fog at its feet. The lance still looked like a piece of work, though, and she'd still have to get through it to her target.

< < It is in our grasp. Do not falter now. > >

Right.

With Thane cooling the pit of unease she felt, Stormy took a deep breath and gripped her weapon more assuredly. As the knight raised its lance, she charged. Both wielding large weapons, it was a matter of speed and follow through as to who would win. Though its armor gleamed realistically, she told herself it was just an apparition: only a manifestation of Fear from a thing too scared to keep up the battle herself. She'd fought dragons and dracoliches, titans and shadows--this was nothing. This was a mewling little child hiding behind equally childish fancies.

It was, in short, a battle of wills more than of weapons, even as they made a few exchanges. Yet because Stormy wanted to win for once, more than anything else in the world, her blade eventually struck true: it rang against the knight's armor with an awful sound and then cut through it, cleaving the creature in two after a little resistance. And then all there was left was the witch.

The greatsword glowed, once again ready to unleash its might. The hunter panted lightly, brushing sweat from her brow as she approached the girl-thing warily. "Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?" she asked in a sing-song voice. "Where are you going, Little Red? We're not through. Come, get off the ground before dirt gets in those lovely little curls. In fact, why don't you just let me cut some of that away so you're not bothered?"
 

[AyeAvast]

Of all the outcomes of this situation, the witch had never even considered she could have been captured. Having wholly forgotten her own short comings, as well as forgotten that it was possible, and that she knew people who had been, to be kidnapped away to the Islands, it wasn't even a thought that had ever crossed her mind during this fight. Knowing probably wouldn't have stopped her from coming in any event, but knowing that was what this particular Hunter was considering might have changed her tune. Or at least caused her to be far more frantic than she currently was.
Not to say that she wasn't, for the shaking had set in. Fingertips and hands and feet all wobbled as she tried to move forward, finding her body so tired and barely hanging on. If she was this run down with part of her Fear shield in tact, she was loathe to see herself with it gone. In her defense, she had expected this to go differently, and given all the other stressors in her life, this was only compounding the situation enormously.
Still, nothing was as bad as turning around to watch this mousy little girl slice through her Death Knight.

That was really all it took for the witch to resign herself to her fate, whatever it might be. Dissipation wasn't that bad, she'd just wake up in a pumpkin patch at school or in Nurse Cricket's office. (Hopefully, for a small voice in her mind cautioned against the fact that the Haunted House was between worlds and therefore, might not function like Halloween.) The worst part would be the torture and...
No, the worst part will be telling Mort.
A pile of leaves that looked deceptively solid slipped out from under the witch's foot so that she crashed ungracefully to the ground, knocking herself up and crying out when it meant additional strain on her already bruising stomach. She had to tell Mort this happened, there would be no way she could play this off. This wasn't a secret she could hide like the ones he favored, she would have to admit she'd gone looking for danger.
Oh, had she found that...
"Hair grows back and so do I. If you touch my hair I swear to Jack I will gut you the next time I see you." The witch hissed, trying to stand and finding herself only falling back. It hurt, but she twisted part of the way to face the girl. This wasn't dignified, but then again, dying at the hands of a teenaged human girl who used a previously Halloween weapon wasn't dignified.  

[medigel]

Stormy followed at a slow pace, finding that with each little stumble the witch made an odd feeling began to well up within her . . . The same sensation she'd felt when Gale couldn't break through her defenses. At first she thought it was pride, which was natural for anyone to feel, but . . . this was different. There was pride in yourself, and then there was pride in seeing your opponent fail--a very big difference.

As the student fell forward on the ground, she recognized it for it was was: superiority. What a curious feeling it was to a hunter who very much was mousey in many respects. But not today: today, right here and now, she was a wolf--a hunter--and her prey was weakening.

At the very least it was looking her in the eye. Unnerving, but it too had a semblance of pride. Thane rustled impatiently.

"You do, yes," Stormy agreed, making a show of pulling the greatsword into view. "Halloween's resilient. Get squashed, you just come back in a matter of hours if not minutes. Must be nice. But here's the thing, Little Red." She leaned in just a bit, lowering her voice. "That doesn't matter. D'you know why Hunters will always come out on top, why people fear us? Because while you sit in class and learn the basics, we train. We learn, we research, we fight, because we're organized. We know what each person has to do. Can you say the same? You're too stupid to know when you're talking to a golem, let alone defend yourselves.

"If we're feared, it's only because we know what we're doing. You steep yourself in ignorance and call us hateful things." She looked ready to say more, then checked herself; her hand was shaking again, not so much in fear of the threat (how small and unfounded it felt with the witch on the ground) as it was with simple, nameless emotion. Their conversation had rubbed her raw in more than one way: in body, mind, and heart. And here it was she had a chance to come out on top.

Grunting (the lance had struck her ribs a little harder than she cared to admit), Stormy raised her weapon. The runes flared briefly as the charge began, quickly coating the blade in a dark oily substance that smelled suspiciously like sulfur.

"You asked me in the beginning if my weapon talks to me. He does. He also wants me to pass a message."

The dracolich rattled with a skeletal grin, a noise she could only hear: something like the noise a rattlesnake made in warning. Poison, always poison to be had. she felt it in her veins, cooling her in many different ways: made her gaze down at the witch coldly because this thing that had cajoled and pranced had said quite enough: it did not know how to fear. Perhaps she could fix that.

"Burn."

Whether by word or by simple coincidence, the greatsword sparked into action. It wasn't quite fire that now coated the weapon, as fire did not burn coldly nor was it normally blackened, but it flickered like flames nevertheless. She swung down with gritted teeth, crashing against its fear shield with an awful howl as the acidic tongues ate away what was left in seconds. The blast itself upon impact was wide, encompassing them both in sulfuric acid and a stench that cloyed the lungs--but this Stormy was used to. Burns, cuts, scars from the acid . . . Most healed, but some still lingered on her arms, hidden beneath gloves and bandages. Some of the fire flew against her face and she could not help but wince at the burst of unpleasant sensation, at how narrowly she could, at times, pay with her own life. But in this instance she was confident, forged through righteous anger and selfish desire to win--a dangerous combination in the wrong hands.

She barely felt the blade embed itself in the ground just by the witch's waist, having cut through the shield itself but also having been blown to the side by the eruption of acid. Stormy panted audibly, sweat plastering her hair to her brow; a hasty swipe cleared it. Her arms ached as did the spots where the lance had struck, but . . . by God, she felt alive.
 

[AyeAvast]

Having never really fallen this terribly in battle before, the witch was feeling all the more angered by the fact that it was to a Hunter. The last time a fight had gone wrong she'd managed an escape. That was no longer a viable option this go around. Especially not when the villain was beginning to monologue. If this were any other instance, there probably would have been time to get away during such an obviously critical speech. But no. Little Miss Look How Scary I Am With My Big a** Sword had to go and keep getting closer.
Belladonna did her best to move further backwards, but she kept her movements slow for she was pretty certain that if she moved too quickly the girl would strike. And given how weak her shield was, the witch really didn't want to give any more openings for attacks. She did, however, at least make sure to look like she was paying attention to the speech. That would at least placate the girl enough to figure out a new plan, if one was able to be made at all.
"Yes, how very right you are... That those living their lives should hate the things that want to stop them."

The witch did sit up a little more at this, nearly daring to move up to her knees but deciding to stay down in case any more insulting innuendos were made as to what she did in her free time were made.
"Do you seriously have nothing better to do with your time? That you would trade your entire life just to train in hopes of one day killing a monster? And do not feed me any of that batshit about 'just killing one is enough'. I know killing you would do no good." Killing never made things right, it only complicated matters. And as much as the witch wanted the Hunters gone, she at least recognized that killing them would only spawn more.
But beating them to a pulp was totally different, of course.
More snarky things were contemplated, tossed about but never spoken as the broadsword was raised up. Given that it had dealt the damage, the witch pushed back from the girl all the more, practically crawling backwards just to get away. The glowing was once more ignored, but it was the smell that made the difference.

Months ago, in a memory almost forgotten, this same Hunter had used this same attack on Lifen. Then it had enraged the witch, not nearly as much as the Horsewoman's lover, but it was enough to make her angry now. While the girl took the moment to squeeze some more dramatics out of their moment, Belladonna was a bit over the drama, personally. With a turn she was on her knees and pushing her hands into the ground to move up and away. If she could only get a good footing, just one good foot on the ground and she could run.
But the words 'burn' were a bit more over the top and the explosion that came from behind effectively knocked her back down. A noise rang in her ears, something not akin to fire but more brittle and clinking, and with a scream the witch realized her shield had shattered around her. What remained of her cards tried to blunt the damage, tried to take the proverbial heat of the attack, but they burned away as the black flame engulfed her form.

It wasn't until the blade crunched into the ground next to her that the witch realized she had still been screaming, choking the sound off as bruised hands tried to wipe away what acid was left on her. The pain inflicted on her shield had hurt, but this was real now, this was almost too much. The Hunter was panting, but the witch was whimpering as she tried to pull herself back, her mind frantic as she tried to categorize all her wounds and finding herself completely covered in burns and scratches.
A very small part of her tried to remain calm, tried to tell herself this was alright, that it was almost over. But it couldn't help but hate how it braced itself for a bad joke from the girl. Witches burned in her world, didn't they?  

[medigel]

The screaming would haunt her more than the witch ever could on its own. Sulfur, success, a skeleton with a wide grin--and the screaming. Is that what it meant to be a hunter? It was one thing to do it to a beast that had no mind of its own, acting not as a person but as an animal that needed to be put down--she could and did sign up for that. Harming something sentient, however . . . as much as the smugness of victory began to fill her, it was starting to feel more like a poisonous cloud or miasma pervading her insides.

< < You are not finished. Continue. > >

More poison. She was starting to feel a little sick.

"This life is better than my last," she found herself saying, strangely level and soft, and stepped forward until its hair was caught under one of her boots. "I guess you'd hear that from almost any hunter you'd ask. not all of us signed up just because we want to kill, though; I didn't. I've only killed one thing my whole life, and I hated doing it."

In an almost negligible motion, the flat of the blade lightly smacked at the witch's legs to discourage further movement.

"The only thing I want to do is help balance things out. To stop the things that are too horrifying for even you to control." As she gazed down at it, a distant sadness entered her tone. "If it means educating poor souls like yourself, violence or not, then I will. If it means pushing the limits and being hated by things that don't even know who I am, I will. Because there's a family out there that'll one day forget about me and live without knowing fear and worry. And I can do more for them here than I ever could in the Human World."
 

[AyeAvast]

Half on the ground and half trying to still crawl away, most everything the girl had to say was ignored. Mostly because the witch simply didn't care, but a large part of it was because if she did listen, she might care. As when she had spoken to the maybe Hunter during Fright Night, as well as when she had chatted occasionally with Ofelia, these were people with feelings and aspirations. They'd had families, other lives before they gave them up for this. And while the witch did not really know what it was like, she still wasn't so sure she could find it within herself to ever want to join something so extreme. Even in an extreme situation, the worst option was only just one of many.
Granted, it was easy to think that when one was safe and sound. Now, her thoughts were more scattered as she tried to get out. The pressure upon her hair did not bother her at first for she only pulled until her curls were taut, her head craned to an odd angle that exposed her neck.
The brush of cold steel on her legs, however, did not encourage what the Hunter wanted. Instead the witch kicked out, doing what she could to get the girl's leg with the heel of her foot. It was only a matter of time before she ended it, so why not hurry it along?

"Such a noble cause. You must sleep pretty well at night with all those lies so easy to say, hmmm?" Resignation was something Belladonna had accepted, but she was still angry. A glare was given to the girl, eyebrows drawn down over pink eyes that burned with a dull fire, but one that could be coaxed larger. This was just an exchange that would be over soon and would only ignite her further. She just had to get out of it mostly intact.  

[medigel]

She wasn't sure why she bothered spilling anything at all. There had been a risk in thinking a few more words would somehow bridge the gap, in thinking diplomacy could succeed where violence failed. Maybe it worked and the witch was just goading her further, or maybe Stormy's thinking had a large logic hole in it for believing it would work in the first place.

What had been settling within her stirred when it lashed out its legs at her, causing the huntress to stumble with a yelp. In a mix of anger and instinct she snapped the flat of the blade again at its legs before circling with a growl, leaning in passing to grab a handful of the witch's thick curls.

"You want to play the game of Hunter and Halloween? Fine. Let's play."

Whether because she had to wield a large weapon on a normal basis, because of natural effects from training, or purely from the rush of adrenaline the need for revenge gave her, Stormy had little trouble yanking it around for the most part. Her own neck prickled with phantom pain, not from the witch's pull but from another time and another place. It made her yank that much harder to forget it as she veered to the left, towards a stump that stuck out like a sore thumb among the dead trees.

"Witches were usually burned, but I don't think you'd withstand the time it'd take to get there," Stormy commented, back to blase, the greatsword dragging in her other hand with a dull sound. "And unfortunately I don't have rope so we can't hang you either. We'll have to go the old fashioned way; very sorry, your highness."

Her ears were still ringing with the screams. It needed to stop.

AyeAvast

 

[AyeAvast]

Another smack of steel against skin didn't overly bother the witch, for she was just foolish enough to kick out again. The action was meant to be an act of defiance toward what the girl obviously wanted for the witch. Instead it only infuriated the Hunter all the more, which wasn't such a bad thing if it meant all this was going to be over soon. Granted, any creature with rational thought was highly unpredictable, so it was likely that further aggressive actions only angered the teen into further chaos. This became terribly apparent when she bent down to grab the witch's hair. The action elicited a snarling shriek, something feral as the ghoul twisted in attempt to free herself. Of course that was silly and only resulted in her making all her wounds ache again, but no one pulled her hair without her consent. In that regard, a little additional pain could easily be suffered if it meant being free of this jackdamn Hunter's grasp.
So intent on her own freedom, the witch was too busy hissing and cursing the girl to notice where she was being drug to. It wasn't at all apparent until the sit h was tossed against the stump, all the air leaving her when she landed on it face front. The edge of what remained of the tree struck her square in the stomach hard enough that all her angry sounds turned into a high pitched whine. It hurt bad enough that she stilled, letting her whole being slump against the thing as she tried to clear the white stars that popped in her vision. Air had abandoned her so throughout that no matter how deep she gasped nothing fixed the ache in her lungs.

For a long while, all the witch could hear was an odd keening noise she finally discovered was herself when tried to pull in air and it paused. But after a moment she stopped the whining, her heart pounding hard enough to hurt. Yet that pain doubled when the Hunter's words sank through the frantic scrambling of the witch's consciousness. A little fight came back into her then, for she pulled down against the hold on her hair, though it was only strong enough to hurt herself further. A strangled "no" left the ghoul at the Hunter's implications, for though she didn't know what exactly was in store, she has a thought and it frightened her immensely.
In a second the witch turned hysterical, a litany of mingled curses and pleas pouring from her. It didn't matter that dissipation was her way out of this situation, it was that it would come at the hands of this girl. It would mean admitting to herself that even a good fighter could be bested by a Hunter.
So while it was a futile effort, the witch dug her hands into the stump and screamed as she tried to pull away, bruising her burned skin against bark and ground. Anything to be free of the thing that happened to bad queens.  

[medigel]

She could hear the leering voice of the Grinch in her head: all the noise, noise, noise. Couldn't she do herself the dignity of dissipating quietly? Of course not, she had been making this difficult from the start--

It. It, Stormy reminded herself. But it was one thing to ignore curses and another to ignore pleas for life, to feel every jerk as she--it cried out and fought back, pushed against the stump, and know that she was the only one in the way of freedom.

Freedom is a frightening thing. That was what she had sent to Gale. It still felt true here.

"Sit still or I'll cut off your hair," Stormy hissed, giving another forceful yank to make her point. It would grow back, yes, but a girl's vanity was easy to spot--no-one would have it this length if it wasn't a point of pride. "Why do you want this? What's the point? Or do you all throw your lives away just because you can?"
 

[AyeAvast]

The longer this went on, the more the witch fought back, but it also meant the weaker she grew in her attempts to be free. It wasn't that she didn't want to be free, but more that her body was failing her. The witch was not physically strong, for magic had always won her battles. After suffering a great deal of damage as well as burns, the ghoul was quickly deteriorating. That didn't mean she wouldn't keep trying, of course, but it did mean she could only scream harder. Strength might not be her forte, but she did have a swell set of pipes on her. At the mention of being bereft of her hair, Belladonna screamed something awful and pulled as best she could.
"I don't want anything from you! You're worthless!" The pleading was completely dropped in favor of anger. All her noises now were odd, feral hissing things as she continued to buck against the hold on her hair.

"You threw your life away! You gave it up to attack innocents!" Not at all sure what she was trying to accomplish anymore, the witch stopped moving to twist her head in attempt to glare up at the girl.
"You think you're so special on your stupid little island, that your weapons protect and make you safe... But you're just scared. You're worthless, useless. The monsters you fight will get you, they'll gobble you whole." Surprised to find herself monologging, Belladonna instead turned her voice as insidious as possible. Given her posh accent it probably wasn't much, but she'd be jackdamned if she didn't try.
"You beat me today, take that victory. But know you won't win. You're too fragile, too unstable, you don't have what it takes. The next time I see you, I'll do far worse to you than what you've done to me. You are forever cursed." The witch spat that last part out, meaning it as much as she wanted out from under the blade.  

[medigel]

< < Why are you letting it speak? > > Thane growled. The rattling of bones did not help her rising anxiety at this whole scenario. Stormy hasn't signed up for...for executing things. This was different than attacking mindless creatures. She had to stop thinking about it, but the witch was spouting hateful words that little by little gnawed at her in a way no Fear shield could prevent. Scared? No, no she wasn't scared, no...

But a curse was hard to shrug off, at least considering what kind of creature was giving it. For a moment something crossed her expression, a mix of surprise and a mild burst of panic. Could it actually curse her? Her partner snapped at such a thought, claws pressing into her mind with insistence.

Finish it.

Poison, she realized. They were both poison. Her stomach turned.

"If I'm useless and weak," Stormy observed as she lifted the greatsword with difficulty; it was meant to he wielded with two hands after all and shook in her grasp. "Then--Then for someone who's lost to me, what does that make you?"

Noise, noise, noise. This thing didn't know a thing about her, much as it tried to puzzle her out. But if there was one thing Stormy was good at, it was evading such a thing--perhaps too good. Would she have known it would get to this, that she would be willing to be violent beyond the measures of her original goal?

"I gave my life up to protect innocents." If that fell on deaf ears, so be it: but this was a moment in which she needed to clarify, to grab whatever solid pieces of herself she could now before they scattered into moral quandaries. The greatsword steadies a little more, hovering above it like an aura of cold steel.

There was no point in dramatics anymore. Off with her head, she thought vaguely, as if from a distance. The shrieks were echoing in her ear, and she needed to cut them out before they consumed her. Where else could she turn when Thane hissed and rattled and the thing spat and fought than to herself? The vague, misty being that was in flux. What solidity she did find did not come from within, but from somewhere between that and without--in a little niche she touched with her mind.

The witch could see the ornate gold book for just a moment at the Hunter's hip glow, though she could not hear the whispers it spoke to Stormy. Words not just of wisdom, but of comfort. Familiarity. Confidence. Pride.

Her expression locked into neutrality once more, temper and fear calmed by the artifact. Her weapon gained a golden edge as well, an extra piece of insurance that it would cut clean through. Nothing stood to stop either of them now: not doubt, not fear, not exhaustion or reluctance or hesitation or pain.

The blade fell.
 

[AyeAvast]

It was a curious thing to stare up at the face of one's death dealer, even if death was the most temporary of states and not even something really to trouble oneself with. It was even more curious to watch a great number of emotions flit across that face, to watch her concentrate on one thing then another, then on willing herself to do this. Had the witch more time, or more of an inclination than she currently did, she might have tried to sweet talk the Hunter. They were human, after all, and while she wasn't, the witch looked almost enough like one to be convincing. She was pretty, she talked with a sweet accent, she knew her words. But Belladonna also knew that this particular Hunter was so screwed up and twisted around herself that talking would only mess her up all the more. While there was some satisfaction in that, there was also a bit of a different kind of monster, and while the Hunters were to be hated, they were creatures of emotion too. And the witch would much rather take pity when none would be extended to herself.
"Kind. It makes me kind. I gave you a chance and instead you used the moment to make things all the worse for yourself. I hope you are happy."
Belladonna stared unblinkingly at the girl, her expression drawing closer to neutral as she took deep breaths to calm herself. This was going to happen, this was something to live through at the end of the day and move forward. The witch would live again, the girl would live her with actions.

While the Hunter had her last say, the witch continued to stare at her, fingertips digging into the bark because that was the only way she could let out her fear so it wouldn't be more visible. Each new breath in hurt, but the moment was dragging out and if she didn't continue to breath, to concentrate on that motion, she would scream and start fighting again. This had to be seen with calm, she had to be brave. This Hunter was not going to best her in this.
The odd golden glow flickered on the edge of vision, nearly distracting the ghoul, but she blinked finally to keep her mind focused on this moment. It would hurry on by, it would if the girl would just drop the jackdamn blade. Later on, the golden glow would be considered, later when the witch was safe in her room and not here waiting to be killed. For now she only took one more breath and locked her gaze on the girl.
"As above, so below." She intoned before she took another breath. Not willing to give the girl the satisfaction of her last gaze, the witch let it drop back down to the forest floor to stare at the colorless leaves and hate how the fog had begun to roil up around their feet.

But it was that concentration on the fog that made her remember where exactly she was, of how dangerous it was to die here, at this place and not somewhere else. All of the panic that had drained from her a moment ago came crashing back in terrible waves that made her hands shake and her breath hitch in her throat. Breathing turned ragged, shallow as she tried to choke down the scream that threatened to be the last noise she made. It bubbled up regardless, managed to slip the first note past the witch's teeth when the blade fell down against her skin.
With a sharp bite it touched the back of her neck and kept going, slipping past the flimsy portion of skin between head and shoulders with ease and almost had made a clean cut all the way through when the ghoul burst into a cloud of pink and was gone.
There wasn't even one final scream, just a sound of breaking glass and then the Hunter was all alone.