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It is midnight, and a little girl is facing Death.
She holds no weapons. She holds no fear. All she holds is steady determination with a gently boiling undercurrent of anger. She knows how this ends, for herself and for the Witch in front of her.
“You’ve come a long way.” A rough voice rumbles through the darkening desert. “Why don’t you take a load off?”
Above them the stars begin to poke through the deepening blue. The Girl does not take a load off. The Witch tilts her head to the side like a bird inspecting some odd, shiny thing. She leans gently against her shopping cart.
“Doesn’t matter anyways, I guess.” She huffs. The Girl nods solemnly. She didn’t used to be this serious, at least she thinks she didn’t. It’s getting harder to remember how things used to be. She reaches up to her face and pulls off the mask she had spent countless hours perfecting. The Witch watches in silence as the mask hits the dusty floor about an inch from her bandage wrapped feet. She glances to The Girl.
“It’s a trade.” The Girl explains. “I’m trading you.”
There are very few things that have ever shocked a God of the desert. Though she can’t see The Witch’s expression behind her mask, The Girl thinks this might be one of them.
The Witch kneels down, gently lacing her fingers around the little handmade mask, and The Girl suddenly feels very cold. Her vision tunnels, the desert spaghetti-ing into long beams of light that surround them both.
“And what would you have,” The Witch’s voice rumbles through her, “my favor? Immortality? Riches for life? The death of your enemies?”
The Girl hesitates. She has come to this place for one purpose. She knows what to ask, she knows what her job is. She pictures a looming gray city razed to the ground with only ash as its legacy. She sees soldiers in monster masks laid peacefully to rest, free at last from endless turmoil. She sees a lake, a lush and green oasis in the center of this barren wasteland. And she wants none of it.
“My family.” She says, pushing her voice out of her frozen body. “I want my family back.”
The Witch stares at her in silence. The mask shines in her hand and The Girl is very aware that she is looking at her own soul. The thought doesn’t scare her as much as she thought it would. She feels tendrils of cold nothingness lapping curiously at her heart and feels the strangest sense of calm.
“You understand what this means?”
The Girl nods.
“You cannot take this back. It’s a permanent trade.”
Again she nods. The Witch sighs.
“IF you do this,” She says, “you will be stuck between two worlds. You will never feel whole until the day you die. Food will be tasteless. Water will not quench the thirst in your chest, the longing for death. Many have tried, all have made their way back to me.” Her eyes flair white behind the mask.
“And if you ask to be released, I will grant you that, but it comes at the cost of your life. Are you prepared for that?”
The Girl stares Death in the face with steely eyes.
“I know,” She says calmly, “I’m prepared.”
The Witch pauses. She looks at the mask in her hand. She looks to the shopping cart. She dips her head in quiet respect to this girl who has more bravery than all of the Zones combined and gestures to her side.
“Then come and get your family, kid.” She whispers.
The Girl rushes forward, practically jumping on the cart as she carefully sorts through the pile of masks. The Witch watches distantly as little hands touch the souls of the dead. She is gentle with them, respectful as she sets them to the side. Eventually familiar colors begin to appear.
Red and Black. Crackling with static electricity. The Girl smiles as it shocks her.
Blue and Pink. Calm and cool to the touch. The Girl wipes away a tear as she presses it to her heart.
White and Green and Black. Hissing with chaotic whispers. The Girl snorts as she holds it to her ear.
Yellow and Red and Black. Loud, proud, and steady as a rock. The Girl sighs with relief and clips it to her belt.
The Witch stares at her. The Girl places a hand on the masks now hanging at her side and nods. The Witch once again dips her head. The Girl watches as instead of sliding her mask into the cart with the rest, The Witch clips it to her own belt.
“I’ll keep it safe for you.” She whispers. The Girl opens her mouth, awestruck, as the desert starts to come back into focus. She did it. She won. From deep in her chest the cold begins to spread. She gasps as it reaches her fingertips, wiggling them back and forth to regain feeling.
The Witch tuts and steps forward. Her cart rolls loyally behind her, and The Girl can’t help but find the image slightly funny. A single, pointy finger wraps itself around one of her curls and lets it bounce back. The Girl catches a flash of white hair and gets the feeling she’s been marked.
“Be brave,” The Witch says, her eyes twinkling behind her mask. “I’ll come back for you one day.”
The Girl blinks and she is gone. She falls to her knees and heaves, wrapping her arms tight around her empty chest. She presses her forehead to the ground and marvels at the coolness as her tears mix with the dust. There is a hand on her shoulder. And another. And another. And-
A familiar voice hums behind her. She turns slowly and is met with four smiling, alive faces.
“Girlie,” Jet breathes as he pulls her into a tight hug, “what the fuck did you just do?”
She sniffles and presses her face into their shoulder.
“I got my family back.”