The Witch in the Woods: The Transmigration of Hazel-Anne Davis

I let my head hang limp, eyes barely open as I slumped against the stone wall, chains still biting into my wrists. My lips were cracked. Dried blood coated my chin. My breathing was slow enough to sound unconscious…just like they wanted.

But my mind was never still.

For three days, I'd listened to them laugh. Watched them parade my body through their little torture games like boys poking a hornet's nest. I let the Third Prince think he'd won. I let the guards believe I'd broken.

Too bad for them that they didn't realize that they should have snapped my neck when they had the chance.

"Is she still breathing?" one of them whispered.

"Barely. We'll move her over to the other cave now that she can't move. The Prince said the fun is not over yet."

The chains rattled as one guard knelt beside me, unfastening the iron cuffs around my wrists and ankles. The other grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into the bruise blooming across my shoulder.

I counted the beats of their hearts.

One… two… three.

All eyes on me.

My knife appeared in my hand so fast, the air cracked with the sound of metal tearing into existence.

Before either guard could so much as flinch, I drove the blade through the neck of the one closest to me, his breath catching in a soft, wet gasp as his throat split open. Blood spattered across the cave wall like ink flung from a brush.

The second guard didn't even get the chance to scream. I turned and stabbed upward through the underside of his chin, the blade slicing clean through the roof of his mouth and into his skull. His body convulsed once before dropping, twitching on the stone floor.

Silence returned to the cavern in a heartbeat.

I rose slowly, wiping the blood from my face with the back of my hand, and stepped over the bodies. The cuffs clattered to the ground, forgotten.

Two more guards stood across the chamber, their mouths open as they stared at me in fear.

One reached for his sword, but he was too late. My second blade found his chest before he even managed to touch the hilt.

The final one stumbled backward, shaking. "M-monster—"

I appeared in front of him before the last syllable left his tongue.

"I was wondering," I murmured, twisting the blade into his gut and dragging it sideways so that his intestines poured out of him, "how many of you would die before he realized I was done pretending."

The man gurgled as he fell to the floor dead.

With the guards handled, I turned toward the prince.

His face had gone pale.

Zhu Lianhua stumbled backward, one hand gripping the edge of the table where he'd once smugly sat and watched them torture me. Now, he looked smaller. Thinner. Almost pathetic in the glow of the flickering torchlight. The blood pooling at my feet cast long, slick shadows across the cave floor.

I didn't blink as I walked toward him, each step slow and deliberate, my bare feet silent on the stone. The scent of metal and rot clung to me like perfume. My blade dripped a soft rhythm onto the floor—one drop, two, three—like a metronome ticking down his final seconds.

He scrambled behind the chair. "Guards—!"

"There are none," I said flatly. "It's just you and me now. How's that for a plot twist?"

"You—" He pointed, voice cracking. "You're supposed to be powerless here! You didn't use your mist—there's no poison!"

I tilted my head. "Funny thing about cages. You forget that some creatures don't need powers to kill."

Then I smiled, just enough to show my teeth.

He backed up until his heels hit the wall behind him. "What… what are you going to do?"

I stopped a few paces away, letting him see every inch of the blood coating my hands, the calm in my eyes.

"What do you think?" I asked sweetly, gesturing to the bodies on the floor. "Was that epic enough for you? Or should I let you watch as the skin of your guards melts off their muscles and bones before turning into a pile of slime at your feet?"

His knees gave out. He slumped against the wall, trembling.

"Please," he whispered, his head shaking back and forth.

I crouched beside him, my voice a gentle murmur. "I'm going to ask you some questions. If you lie to me, you'll beg for death before I'm finished."

Zhu Lianhua shook his head violently, but I didn't strike. Not yet. I wanted him to be conscious. I wanted him lucid enough to regret every bruise he'd left on my skin, every taunt he'd whispered when he thought I was too weak to fight back.

"You allied with Yuyan," I said. "Tell me where the army is stationed. Tell me what the Emperor doesn't know."

His mouth clamped shut. I watched him try to summon the same arrogance he always wore like silk, but it didn't fit anymore. Not with blood so close. Not with the cave still echoing the death-rattle of his men.

So I helped him along.

I reached into the satchel I'd stolen from one of the guards and pulled out a thin iron rod. Just long enough. Just sharp enough. I ran it between my fingers like a sewing needle.

"I was going to at least leave you in one piece," I said. "But now I think you deserve better."

His voice broke. "Wait—wait! The army's in the northwestern pass! They're stockpiling weapons in the old border tunnels. They're planning to strike the capital before winter!"

I stilled. "And the Crown Princess?"

"She's coordinating supplies from Chixia—secret channels through Baiguang's merchants. They're moving fast. Faster than the Crown Prince knows."

Of course they were.

I stood, brushing off my hands. "Thank you."

"W-wait—does that mean you'll let me live?"

I turned my head slowly, eyes cold. "No."

His scream didn't last long. The blade entered below his ribs and carved upward until his body sagged and slumped against the wall. I held his weight for a moment, letting his blood stain my arms.

Then I stepped back and let him fall.

"One down," I said quietly, wiping my blade on his sleeve. "Ten to go." Crouching down, I got to work on cutting off his head, one swipe of my blade at a time.

I think it was time for me and the Emperor to have a little discussion about his favorite son.