The two days that Maridina had given Dorothy to think things over had finally come and gone.
Dorothy had not reached a decision.

Maridina unlocked the door of the cell and entered, closing the door gently behind her. She adjusted her pointed hat on her head slightly, then looked up at Dorothy.

"Well," the Witch said coolly, though her expression was not as intimidating as usual, "have you decided what you will do? I know that you originally intended to kill me, Dorothy, but that does not have to be the way things are done."

Dorothy gulped. She hoped that it wasn't audible, though she knew that Maridina probably sensed her fear just as easily the Witch could sense all of her other emotions.

"Ah. I expected that," Maridina said, the heel of her boot clicking slightly against the stone floor.

"I'm sorry," Dorothy whispered.

Maridina peered down her nose at Dorothy. "I understand."

Dorothy's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You do?"

The Wicked-- well, Dorothy was no longer sure if Maridina could be considered "wicked" any longer, though she knew that she did not really like her-- Witch of the West gave a single nod.

"You have been given two very good, viable options. I cannot blame you for not being sure which one to choose. Either way, you do not have to worry about the people of Oz. You just have one little task in order to return to your home."

Dorothy nodded a bit. Maridina, in all her intuition and apparently amazing skills at reading and deciphering emotions, was completely right.

"Well, as you have to kill someone either way to get what you want, I suppose you can kill me right here, right now. Use your bare hands, Dorothy Gale," Maridina said.

Her jaw dropped. "But I don't want to have to kill anyone, not even you!"

"Use your anger as motivation. I had your friends killed. I had pain inflicted upon you.  I had you locked up so that you could not escape."

Dorothy shook her head.

"Kill me," Maridina spat.

"No! I'll go through with your deal with killing the Wizard if what you say is true!" The words had slipped out of her mouth faster than she had anticipated they would.

Maridina's blue eyes flashed, and her lips twisted in a smirk.

"Thank you for your display of common, well, I can't say common, can I? Thank you, for your display of sense," the Witch said. "Now, I will let you out of this cell so we can begin planning."

                    ***

"Little do people know that I have allies in the East. They did not support my sister-- she was, admittedly, an absolute prat-- but they did support the call for the Wizard's assassination," Maridina said as she handed Dorothy a mug of tea that smelled strongly of mint. "They are called the Munchkins Incognito Coup of the East. You are familiar with them, am I correct?"

Dorothy nodded. "I met them on my way to the Emerald City."

"Good. I have not been in contact with them for several months, since they had changed the location of their headquarters. But, I know that they are in full support of--"

"Wait," Dorothy cut in, "You know that Bo was a part of the resistance, right?"

"Now, now, let's not get into tha--"

"No!" Dorothy shouted. "You killed him. I don't think M.I.C.E. will support you any longer when they find out about it." Her nerves were now shot, her stomach began to gnaw on itself, and she trembled and shook as she stood up from the couch slowly.

"Dorothy--" the Witch began, standing up quickly.

"No!" she shouted. She splashed her drink at the Witch's face.

Maridina screamed and covered her face with her hands. There was a hiss of steam from in between her fingers, and the Witch fell to her knees.

Dorothy gritted her teeth and glared at the Wicked Witch of the West.

"I'm melting!" Maridina screeched. "I'm melting!"

Dorothy looked down at her, not a single sign of remorse on her face until the Witch moved her hands to reveal her face.

She nearly gasped as she saw that Maridina's flesh was melting and dripping from her skull, the white of the bone now showing.

"I'm sorry!" Dorothy yelped. "What can I do!?"

Maridina did not answer as she slumped over with a scream. The scream died down seconds later and Dorothy fell down to her knees. She pushed two fingers against her neck.

No pulse. The skin on her neck let out a hiss as the flesh on it began to melt, too. Dead.

The Wicked Witch of the West was dead.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

And Dorothy had been the one to kill her.