"You don't scare me," I hissed back at Abigail. "None of you have been able to stop us. Not really. Our desire to live is stronger than yours."

            The witch's face never changed as she pulled away from me and straightened herself. Maple and I were watching her carefully as she moved to stand somewhere between the two of us. My own eyes trailed to the gun she had holstered at her side.

            "Our goal was never to inspire fear, Foxy. That was your job, and you have done so splendidly."

...

            The savage breathing and baying of the dog was right in Mary's ears. Nothing but dirt and darkness flashed through her vision as she fled through the tunnels. The torches obediently lit the path ahead of her, for what little good they did. There was nowhere to go but forward. No adjourning tunnels. No doors.

            For a fleeting, frantic moment the familiar worried that she had led herself astray in her panic. But, no, she was sure of where she had been. She was positive she had traversed this tunnel just hours before and there had been a myriad of paths for her to take. Door or no door, there should have been more tunnels.

            It was only when she saw the dead end that lay before her that she realized her mistake. Or, rather, that something had occurred beyond the very scope of her imagining.

...

            "You say we are trapped and cornered down here," Abigail went on before I could say anything, her dark eyes trailing between Maple and I. "But many of the witches who once claimed themselves free of Wildwood now work directly under us, and the few who remain are bringing themselves right to our doorstep. You gloat about your accomplishments over your 'friends' and witches alike but, from what we have gathered from Mouse and the children, you only lead because they fear you. And while fear may be a useful tool, it only lasts for as long as the one who wields it remains infallible."

            "I did what I did to help them," I shot back while holding down a snarl, ignoring Maple who was now staring at me. "And they went along with it because they wanted to be free and they needed me to make that happen."

            "How very noble of you. But does anyone else see it that way? For all the familiars have suffered since your attempt to ruin us, do you truly believe they merely follow you out of generosity? They all know what you are capable of. They have all seen the remains of that poor Quincy girl—"

            "Shut-up!" I roared, trying and failing to, at the very least, rise up from the ground. "You weren't there—none of them were there. Meadow did what she did to save me and I wasn't in the condition to stop her. She sacrificed herself for the sake of her family so don't you fucking dare try and twist that to suit your needs."

            Abigail didn't budge. Not a twitch in her face or body. Only her dark eyes reflected any life at all as they studied me. "And once again you fall back to anger as your sole recourse. It must feel like a very comfortable skin by now, but it does little to serve your needs. Children and those whose minds are broken might fear you, but I do not."

            "Not yet, but you will," I swore, my voice trembling as I struggled to control my temper. "When Ninovan and the others come and tear this place down, I'll make sure of it."

            The witch did not break my glare. She didn't even blink as she said, "I think not."

...

            Mouse hadn't been trying to wear her Master down. He wasn't being pushed to his limits. He had been testing them. Testing her. Those weren't just doors she had been seeing, they were entire networks of tunnels. Tunnels he created just to mess with her. Tunnels that lead her to believe she knew exactly where she was.

            The smell of blood and death was on Mary's nose as she ran. A wide smile, followed by a hysterical laugh escaped her just as the hot breath of the dog fell upon her neck.

...

            "Rhenoa, it's done," Copper's voice said, suddenly filtering in the room like he had been standing around us.

            But there was nowhere he could be hiding. Abigail nodded like she had been expecting his voice to materialize out of nowhere before turning to Maple with a smile that was anything but pleasant. "Have you finished your food, Maple?"

            The young witch looked stunned for a moment that she was being addressed before slowing glancing down at the mostly empty bowl of soup still clenched in her hands. She placed it gently on the ground in front of her all while giving Abigail a small nod.

            "Good." Abigail kneeled down to be at eye level with the girl. "How would you like to see Leaf and Trout again? They are very excited to see you."

            Maple stared at the witch, her mouth open slightly for several long moments. It was only when her eyes began to water that she moved to wipe away the fresh tears and nod more vigorously.

            Abigail nodded back before standing up. "Maria!" she called into the air.

            A moment later, a deep red door appeared in the wall beside her with hardly any fanfare. Garcia opened it and stepped out even faster. She waddled herself over to Maple and extended a hand down to the young child.

            "Come on, girl," the doctor snapped. "They won't be awake for much longer."

            "Be gentle with her, Maria," Abigail softly chided after seeing Maple wince upon Garcia grabbing her arm and yanking her to her feet. "She's been through a lot."

            "She's put me through a lot more!" the doctor retorted, but loosened her grip enough to still drag Maple after her and back towards the door.

            "Wait," Maple said, hardly louder than a whisper as she stood on the precipice of this room and whatever lay beyond. We shared a glance for a moment before she snapped her attention to Abigail. "What about him?"

             "I still need a few words with Mr. Foxy," Abigail said, the unnerving smile still plastered to her emotionless face. "Go on now. Don't leave your family waiting."

            Maple looked back at me for just a second. When our eyes met, for some reason, I felt my chest seize up. For once, I was not seeing the dark pits of the void. I was seeing Maple.

            But before I could think of what to say to her, Garcia yanked her through the doorway and the door swiftly slammed shut behind them and vanished from existence.

            Immediately I felt my chest unwind itself and I took a moment to regain my breathing. There was still time. For now, focus on the plan. Keep the witches on edge.

            I summoned up that familiar rage as I turned to Abigail who was now approaching me.

            "I don't have anything left to say to you," I said with a growl.

            "Don't fret," the witch said as she pulled the gun from its holster, "this will not take long."

...

            Mary had braced herself for the swift yet intense pain of jaws clamping on her neck, but instead cried out at the twisting of her ankles as she was sent crashing down from a great height. Immediately she both attempted to take in her surroundings and regain her footing, but both failed as the pain overtook her and she was sent face first into the dirt.

            Dirt. As she breathed in and coughed back out the foul substance, Mary was at least sure she still lay somewhere underground.

            "Mouse, are you alright?"

            Mary stopped doing anything for a few moments as that wonderfully familiar voice reached her ears. Right away, everything was made clear to her and she allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief and even chuckle a bit.

            "Oh, just fine, Master," she said, allowing herself to let a little bit of teasing accent her words despite the pain. It was just too hard to resist. Just as it was impossible for her not to roll herself over and push up into a sitting position to face the foolish, little man. "You really did scare me for a moment there. I thought you were really going to kill me—"

            Her Master pounced on her faster than she expected. His gloved hand was over her mouth just in time to silence her groan as a knife was stuck somewhere deep in her abdomen. Even as her body moved to shove him off, a cold, biting numbness was taking over her limbs, allowing him to press her down on her back and pin her there with his slight weight.

            As the pain and adrenaline was swiftly overtaken by the numbing cold, Mary chose to use her time examining her dear Master. He was incredibly sweaty and pale. His labored breath was hot and foul smelling as it washed over her face. But Mary did not focus on the grimy details for long. She was undoubtedly distracted by a smile she had never seen before, a shrill little laugh she had never heard before, and the beautiful swirl of golden color that swam in her dear Master's single eye.

            "Sorry for this. I needed all the insurance—no, assurance—I needed all the assurance I could acquire. You understand, right? You've tricked me many times, Mouse. Many, many times. Couldn't let that happen again. You understand?"

            Her Master was talking very fast between his great gulps of air. Almost every facial muscle was twitchy and though he asked a lot of questions he was not giving her room or ability to ask them. But, through all that, the golden pool remained static in its slow swirl of brilliance. It nearly hypnotized Mary, but she did not miss the hand that was not holding her mouth closed raise into the air beside them.

            With a casual twirl of his index finger, a small hole was opened in the air ringed by golden light. It was far too small for Mary to see where it led to, but her Master spoke into it like he knew exactly where it led.

            "Rhenoa, it's done."

            After those three words, her Master clenched his hand into a fist and the hole in reality vanished.

            "Sorry, had to take care of business. Busy, busy business. You understand." He was catching his breath more easily now and Mary felt the grip over her mouth slacken slightly as he took in a deep sigh and let it out slowly. When he opened that eye again, the familiar did not miss the flickering of the once static golden light. "Mouse? Sorry. You were going to say something, weren't you? What was it? You can tell me."

            The momentary break of the light broke Mary out of her own stupor. She watched it closely before speaking, but it did not waver again. She chose to answer him slowly, now very certain it wasn't just her dear Master she was speaking to any longer.

            "I thought you were going to kill me."

            Giles Copper's wide smile hammered in the final nail of Mary's growing dread. Whoever it was that possessed golden eyes, it was not her Master.

            "Not you, Mouse. You are far too important to him."

...

            "Fawn, hold him."

            My scrambling was immediately halted by firm hands on my shoulders. When I fought against those, I was forced on my knees as those hands moved to hold my arms back in a position far too painful to fight. My former teacher had been so silent in the dark corners of the room, I had completely forgotten about her.

            "Fawn, you need to stop her! If she kills me, she'll kill you to!" I shouted in desperation to the one who held me.

            "Fawn is ready to make the sacrifices needed to continue Wildwood's survival," Abigail said as she moved to stand in front of me. I couldn't even move my head to see more than her polished, black shoes. "She understands that this is bigger than any one person."

            "No," I hissed back. "She only listens because you're controlling her!"

            "Believe what you want." The click of the gun rang sharp in my ears and I knew without seeing that Abigail had raised it to my head. "In a moment, it won't matter."

            Shit, shit, shit.

            "If you're just going to kill me what was the point of belittling me and trying to shove all that other shit in my face? Was that all just hot air!?"

            I needed to think. I needed time to think. Mary was out there somewhere. Fawn was in there somewhere. One of them could save me if I just bought myself more time.

            "I said what I said simply because I am unsure if there is such a thing as an afterlife. If there is, I hope you are allowed to remember every terrible and destructive decision you have made that led to this moment."

            The short silence that followed clutched tight at my throat. It beat against my heart. There wasn't any time.

            "ASH!" I shouted inside my head, but immediately I knew that was a useless avenue. What could she do? There wasn't any time to define a plan that involved her. She wouldn't even know what was happening unless I was—

            I already had to blink rapidly as heaviness fell over my head. Ash was trying to put me to sleep.

            No. NO! I needed to think of something else. I needed someone else!

            I needed—

...

            Bang.

            Fawn tensed, and then immediately released her grip of Foxy as the boy slumped to the ground. Her head was ringing, but before she could discern why Ms. Abigail unloaded her gun a few more times into the familiar.

            Bang. Bang. Bang.

            The sound bounced around the small room for far too long. Fawn started to feel dizzy as the ringing increased into a pain that threatened to overthrow all other senses. But, even as she suffered, she did not miss her Master dropping the gun and seeing the thing bounce and then fall still beside Foxy's body. Ms. Abigail then threw a hand over her mouth, hunched over, and began to walk away from the scene as she wretched empty air.

            The ringing and pain slowly dulled as Fawn stared at the mostly naked body of Foxy. She counted the holes in his body. Her Master had only missed once and the shot to the head was cleaner than any the Hunter had offered her old friends. Cleaner than the death Mallard had suffered from his own kind.

            Still, there was a twinge that pulled at the very tips of her fingers. A strange desire to hold the hand of the very person that had once threatened to tear apart her life. Perhaps it was an old memory she had long forgotten. A memory of him before he betrayed her and everyone else. Either way, it served her no good now.

            "Damn you, Edgar," her Master muttered as she wiped her mouth. It was quiet, so perhaps she believed Fawn could not hear her. "Just because I offered doesn't mean you had to indulge me."

            "Are you going to kill me now?" Fawn asked her Master. It was not something she wished to ask, but it could not be avoided. Both Mouse and Foxy were dead now. Only her and Shepherd remained as beacons. "What of Shepherd?"

            "No," Ms. Abigail said in a breathless whisper before shaking her head and steadying her hands. "No," she said again, clearer. "Unlike those two, you and Shepherd still have purpose. He is part of our first line of defense, and you shall serve as a test subject against something we have all been very curious of for some time."

            Fawn bowed her head and made the effort to avoid looking at the dead boy now. "As you say, Master. What would you have me do until then?"

            "Remain here until Maria can collect the body." Ms. Abigail moved towards said body and the gun that lay beside it, but stopped short and instead turned to one of the walls of dirt. "And if you would please pick up and clean the gun in the meantime."

            The familiar knelt and grabbed the weapon, tensing only for a moment at just how cold the metal was and the slickness of the blood that coated it. But, instead of cleaning it, Fawn let it rest in her hands. It was heavier than she expected and yet still so small. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, the noise of its shots still rang clear.

...

            Rhenoa Abigail did not see her familiar momentarily disobey her commands. A door had materialized as she had desired and she was more than eager to leave the room and the scene within. However, the door did not open to the sanctity and security of her own bedroom. It was just another dark and lonesome tunnel, with a meek and frail looking man in a sweater.

            "Ah! Rhenoa!" he exclaimed in surprise as he took a reflexive step back. "I'm very sorry. I did not know you were still busy."

             Abigail watched the man carefully and was quick to block the view of his searching eyes as she closed the door behind her. "Just finished, actually. Why? Did you have business here, Connor?"

            "N-No. I mean, not business to be exact, I just wanted—"

            Connor cut himself off so he could brush his graying hair out of his eyes and readjust his glasses. At least, that's what he wanted her to think. Abigail knew him and his cowardice. It was as a part of him as her callousness was of her. Truly, they were both the outcomes of their Knowledge.

            "He's doing fine, Connor, you need not worry," Abigail offered with a gentle smile and a pat on the man's frail shoulder. "If you can keep that bit of knowledge between us I shall remain silent about you prodding against the Overseer's wishes."

            The warm blush was easy to see on his pale cheeks. "I didn't—" he tried again before swallowing. "I am so sorry, Rhenoa. It's just been so long. Years. And now he is here and I haven't been able to see him once."

            "It is for his own good, remember? Foxy's mind is unstable enough as it is and seeing you could break something beyond our ability to fix."

            "Couldn't—Isn't there—Maybe if we did it so where he could not see me—"

            "You gave him to us to save him from a life involving you and your wife," Abigail cut in before Connor could go further. He was being careful of his wording, but she couldn't take too many chances. Especially not now. "Would you really risk all that you've sacrificed for a look? Take solace that he is safe and well despite all that has happened."

            Connor dropped his gaze to the ground. In the intervening silence, Abigail raised her arms slightly. Ready to cover her ears or silence his words should he try anything out of character.

            Instead, when he looked up, Rhenoa Abigail was taken aback by his weak attempt at a smile as his glasses dangled at the edge of his nose. For some reason, those familiar, blue eyes shook her to the core.

            "Thank you, Rhenoa. I cannot thank you all enough for what you have done."

            "Do not thank me," Abigail snapped back, sharp enough to make Connor lose his smile. The witch was quick to reign herself back in. "We are only doing our jobs. For the sake of all the Knowers and all whom we look after."

            Connor blinked, then chuckled his dry little laugh that was notoriously rare down in the tunnels. "I'm sure I've told you this before, Rhen, but you take your job way too seriously sometimes."

            And you not seriously enough, Abigail thought back, but knew better to remain quiet besides offering a small, forced laugh of her own.

            "Come, Connor. I believe it is time we have our meeting with the Overseer in regards to the rest of the familiars."

            Connor glanced behind her for just a moment. At the door that had long since vanished.

            "Yes, of course."

...

*Author's Note*

The unthinkable has happened. What fate is there for those that remain? Can they find some way to overcome the odds stacked against them?

Whatever your thoughts, I'd love to hear them.