Dakota Black has taken a soul once again. She stood beside her wooden table, wearing a moss-green dress that reached her ankles. The sleeves were like vines, running down her pale arms. She was holding a green mason jar. A locket hung around her neck, and she opened it, releasing a spark of light into the jar. The jar glowed, casting a bright green color against her skin. She took it to her bedroom where hundreds of colorful jars were displayed on the shelves propped up against the walls. The room was warm from the energy given off from the jars, each of which contains a soul.
In the morning, Dakota went out again to catch another unfortunate soul. It was a requirement for her to pass as a rightful heir in their clan of witches. She had to take as many souls as possible to complete the trial. She didn’t want the crown, she just wanted to prove herself to everyone else.
She prowled across the forest, leaves crunching under her feet. Sunlight peeked in through the canopy of trees above her. The chirps of the birds were like a song that was needed to be heard. Her eyes, sharp like the lenses of a camera, scanned around the area for movement. She reached the winding river and there stood a young man. She hid behind a large oak tree, peeking only to observe the man. He wore a black leather jacket over his blue flannel shirt, a satchel slung over his body and a compass in hand. She was deciding how she would take his life when he turned around, facing the direction in which Dakota is. She took in his features: the glistening of his blue green eyes, the slanting of his jaw, blond hair. Her intentions quickly faded away, turning into something that she had never felt before. She willed herself to shake the feeling away, but she couldn’t and it was petrifying. The young man transfixed his gaze towards the tree she was hiding behind, sensing that there was someone there. She bolted as fast as she could, back to her home.
She tried to calm herself down back at her house: she was doing a portrait of the boy, a paintbrush in her hand. The only illumination in the living room came from the tall lamp that stood against the wall. Her heart was still racing. Could it be that she has fallen for him? In the spur of a moment, the door banged open. She gaped at the young man standing in front of her. She was frozen in place. Never had she been so vulnerable. Suddenly, the man had his knife to her throat. She knew she couldn’t kill him, even if her own life was at risk. It was the lad’s mission to kill her, bearing the knowledge that she was the monster behind the deaths in the city. He was there to bring justice to those who died. But right now, it’s as if he couldn’t move his hand in a way that would cut her throat. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
Dakota looked confused. She wasn’t the one holding him back. She couldn’t. “You’re the one with a knife on my throat, not the other way around. Just kill me.”
He couldn’t. It was like a barrier was hanging between them, preventing them from killing each other. Finally, he let her go. His knife clattered to the ground. He moved away from her, staring intensely at her hazel eyes. The room was warm but there was a coldness, somehow. His heart fluttered against his chest, matching her heart’s rhythm. “Why didn’t you kill me, lad?” she asked, her face flushed.
He only gave her a look that said, “ I don’t know.” He ran out of the door immediately, leaving Dakota with a flood of mixed emotions.
She felt her heart shattering, the broken pieces scattered on the ground.