Everkant ep. 19 (1st draft)

Pre-Cataclysm

As she laid on her back contemplating her final task, Claire found herself thinking how exactly did the witch got to be so ugly. Or when. She often claimed to be a thousand years old, but Claire doubted that. The wrinkled old body, resting in an unnatural position and attached to the ceiling by a simple pin spell, one of the first she was taught, produced quite a sight. Her old face no longer showed that smug grin that Claire hated since the first day when she arrived. It wasn't her first try. Well, the first that actually succeeded. The old crone always laughed afterwards, as one does when looking down on something beneath you. That's what Claire was. A small, inferior being. 'Not anymore.' Claire found herself counting the small droplets of blood coming out of where there used to be eyes. 'She never needed those anyway.' Claire smiled at her work of art. Witches, it turns out, bleed like everyone else. A thousand years my ass. Two hundred and fifty four, two hundred and fifty five, two hundred and fifty six, two hundred and fifty seven...