09-29-2021, 10:26 PM
The going got harder as Peggy Powler and her entourage fought their way along the rope and out of the darkness and
as the light became just a little less faint, the weary Witch noticed something else too. As the flickering match seemed
to dim a little, Peggy glanced over shoulder and saw the third girl in the line -the blonde-haired sister of Jane Bowman,
had begun to fade.
Peggy scanned the queue to see if anyone else was disappearing, but the zombie-like youngsters were all doing as they'd
been told and walking with their left hand on the shoulder of the one ahead. Staring back into the gloom, she wondered if
the sour-face crone -that Peggy had believed been vanquished, had recovered and was now, somehow stealing back the girls.
Seeing nothing to indicate Gwydionel was tracking them, Peggy looked again at the stoic-faced lass and saw she was now
almost gone. Peggy took a wild-swipe at an earlier idea she'd had about Chime-children and wondered if she'd near-enough
correct.
"Alice?" the last Witch of Underhill called back over her shoulder and craning her neck, Peggy saw the ghostly-girl respond
to the name, she was an unreported one to be taken long before Major Evans had come to St, Martin's. Jane Bowman had
never told anyone -not even her parents, of what had truly happened and to be fair, who would've believed her.
Now Alice had gone and Peggy managed a small smile, the Chime majick had returned her to her own time.
Pushing harder against the unseen force of this horrid lightless realm, Peggy Powler mentally ticked-off Alice and then Harriet
Heron... she had escaped. But now gripping the ribboned-wrapped rope harder, she attempted to recall the list that Major Evans
had given her. Through narrowed eyes, the tired necromancer also noticed Treacle's kitchen match had lost some more its lustre.
...................................................
She could smell them. They were just ahead and Gwydionel quietly cackled to herself. Oh, they would be punished, of course,
but that little sneak of a woman would pay dearly for what she'd caused here. The ravaged half-blind harpy went to rub her hands
in wicked delight, but her right arm remained motionless. Gwydionel snorted in anger and shambled on into the dark.
Oh yes -she thought, that woman would pay dearly.
...................................................
Dana May went next, the mousy-girl second from the end just blinked out in a moment and Peggy noticed that the girls just
picked-up the space and became a shuffling caterpillar again. Not a word, not a gasp... just following their hope in the form
of the little Witch in the kid's clothes.
...................................................
"Ugh" was the word both Kittie Heron and Treacle Thistle said in unison, the rope in their hands just didn't want to move.
The Bogle turned around so he could pull it over his shoulder and with gritted-teeth, he saw that Kittie was panting heavily.
"It... it won't... budge" she said between wheezes and Treacle had to agree, this was too much for the pair of them.
For a moment, the weary Yetun believed the small dark shape that trundled from the cedars was an opportunist fox until he
heard the familiar voice of Turnip Mudd. "Put yer' backs into it me-hearties!" the hermit from over Calder's way remarked with
a cheerfulness that seemed out of place in such a dire situation.
Kittie stifled a squeal of shock as the Gnome stepped behind Treacle and began to pull on the rope. The girl who should've
been in bed at this time of night and gaining blisters by the second, stared at the two creatures who worked back-to-back.
Maybe it's only children who can accept such weird settings, but with a frown of concentration, she went back to pulling on
the rope.
...................................................
Sally-something-or-other had gone and Joannie Marrs was now fading out, Peggy was down to four disciples clinging to the
shoulder ahead of them. It was a few seconds later when she heard the heavy phlegm-ridden breathing far behind them.
The Bitch O' The Hill was coming.
"Ah' can smell yer' fear" a faint voice wafted from the darkness and Peggy knew she didn't have -just like the amount of girls,
much time left.
...................................................
Through his shaggy sweat-dripping beard, Turnip hissed a question that made Treacle's eyes widen with realisation of what
he had to do, though he was reluctant to do so. "Didn't Ms Powler tell yer' anything we can use to pull this damned thing out?"
the Gnome snapped as he leaned into his exertion.
Treacle looked up and saw Kittie was flagging now in her efforts, it wouldn't be long before the rope would just slip away into
the unseen Otherside and Peggy and the missing girls would be lost forever.
Gulping once, the brave little outcast-of-a-Bogle, recited the spell that the Witch had told him.
as the light became just a little less faint, the weary Witch noticed something else too. As the flickering match seemed
to dim a little, Peggy glanced over shoulder and saw the third girl in the line -the blonde-haired sister of Jane Bowman,
had begun to fade.
Peggy scanned the queue to see if anyone else was disappearing, but the zombie-like youngsters were all doing as they'd
been told and walking with their left hand on the shoulder of the one ahead. Staring back into the gloom, she wondered if
the sour-face crone -that Peggy had believed been vanquished, had recovered and was now, somehow stealing back the girls.
Seeing nothing to indicate Gwydionel was tracking them, Peggy looked again at the stoic-faced lass and saw she was now
almost gone. Peggy took a wild-swipe at an earlier idea she'd had about Chime-children and wondered if she'd near-enough
correct.
"Alice?" the last Witch of Underhill called back over her shoulder and craning her neck, Peggy saw the ghostly-girl respond
to the name, she was an unreported one to be taken long before Major Evans had come to St, Martin's. Jane Bowman had
never told anyone -not even her parents, of what had truly happened and to be fair, who would've believed her.
Now Alice had gone and Peggy managed a small smile, the Chime majick had returned her to her own time.
Pushing harder against the unseen force of this horrid lightless realm, Peggy Powler mentally ticked-off Alice and then Harriet
Heron... she had escaped. But now gripping the ribboned-wrapped rope harder, she attempted to recall the list that Major Evans
had given her. Through narrowed eyes, the tired necromancer also noticed Treacle's kitchen match had lost some more its lustre.
...................................................
She could smell them. They were just ahead and Gwydionel quietly cackled to herself. Oh, they would be punished, of course,
but that little sneak of a woman would pay dearly for what she'd caused here. The ravaged half-blind harpy went to rub her hands
in wicked delight, but her right arm remained motionless. Gwydionel snorted in anger and shambled on into the dark.
Oh yes -she thought, that woman would pay dearly.
...................................................
Dana May went next, the mousy-girl second from the end just blinked out in a moment and Peggy noticed that the girls just
picked-up the space and became a shuffling caterpillar again. Not a word, not a gasp... just following their hope in the form
of the little Witch in the kid's clothes.
...................................................
"Ugh" was the word both Kittie Heron and Treacle Thistle said in unison, the rope in their hands just didn't want to move.
The Bogle turned around so he could pull it over his shoulder and with gritted-teeth, he saw that Kittie was panting heavily.
"It... it won't... budge" she said between wheezes and Treacle had to agree, this was too much for the pair of them.
For a moment, the weary Yetun believed the small dark shape that trundled from the cedars was an opportunist fox until he
heard the familiar voice of Turnip Mudd. "Put yer' backs into it me-hearties!" the hermit from over Calder's way remarked with
a cheerfulness that seemed out of place in such a dire situation.
Kittie stifled a squeal of shock as the Gnome stepped behind Treacle and began to pull on the rope. The girl who should've
been in bed at this time of night and gaining blisters by the second, stared at the two creatures who worked back-to-back.
Maybe it's only children who can accept such weird settings, but with a frown of concentration, she went back to pulling on
the rope.
...................................................
Sally-something-or-other had gone and Joannie Marrs was now fading out, Peggy was down to four disciples clinging to the
shoulder ahead of them. It was a few seconds later when she heard the heavy phlegm-ridden breathing far behind them.
The Bitch O' The Hill was coming.
"Ah' can smell yer' fear" a faint voice wafted from the darkness and Peggy knew she didn't have -just like the amount of girls,
much time left.
...................................................
Through his shaggy sweat-dripping beard, Turnip hissed a question that made Treacle's eyes widen with realisation of what
he had to do, though he was reluctant to do so. "Didn't Ms Powler tell yer' anything we can use to pull this damned thing out?"
the Gnome snapped as he leaned into his exertion.
Treacle looked up and saw Kittie was flagging now in her efforts, it wouldn't be long before the rope would just slip away into
the unseen Otherside and Peggy and the missing girls would be lost forever.
Gulping once, the brave little outcast-of-a-Bogle, recited the spell that the Witch had told him.
Edith Head Gives Good Wardrobe.