Philo's Stories
 

"Sarah"
originally posted on Twitter on June 28, 2022
CW: violence, depressive spiral

the thunderstorm had started early that morning and showed no signs of letting up late at night
neither did Sarah's tears.

on a bare, rocky hill on the edge of town, she kneels and wishes with all of her heart for escape

escape from the constant dysphoria from her own face in the mirror
escape from the unending mundanity and lonlieness of her life
escape from knowing how much she burdens everyone around her just by being herself

escape from having to hide her murky and buried feelings from everyone around her, even herself at times

a lone firefly flickers amid the rain and she reaches out towards it
lightning strikes her outstretched hand and she is engulfed by a bright light and a strange warmth

a sweet soothing voice fills the world around her and she knows that her wish has been answered

a month later, a hiker passes a creek flowing uphill through the forest, but thinks nothing of it
any witch would immediately notice the heightened levels of magic in the air

two months later, the old elm by the big rock sprouted pink leaves
it was three months on from the lightning strike before the spells in the forest pulled together into something more than vague effects
two months after that, the bundle of spells had its first thought

a ghostly feminine form appears in the forest and can only remember a couple things: her name is Sarah and she wanted this
she conjures in more of a body, limbs building up from nothing
a sparkling black dress fades in around her, glittering in the moonlight

for a moment, she's more euphoric than she's ever felt before

her concentration breaks and her form collapses
it's another week before she tries again, but when she does, she holds a much more defined form together for much longer

over the next few months, the Massachusetts Witchhunters become increasingly concerned by reports of strange occurrences in a forest in the west of the state
they send in a tank when the witchhunters they send don't return

she's waiting for them as they roll into the forest, casting an unnaturally long shadow darker than vantablack
the tank opens fire on what is clearly their target
a shell explodes, shattering the rocks behind her and filling the air with dust and smoke

they look on in horror as her body rapidly reforms among the smashed rocks

they reload and fire again, screaming as the shell simply bounces off her and back at the tank
one witchhunter is thrown clear of the tank in the explosion and steadies his pistol to open fire on her

the bullet passes through her and she asks "you really thought you could actually do anything to me?", her voice cutting through the smoky air like an obsidian blade
he's pinned against the side of the still smoking tank by an invisible force

"I didn't expect you to shrug off a direct hit from a tank like that, no"
she pauses for a moment to make her monologue all the more dramatic; she has all the time in the world while he most definitely doesn't

"by any reasonable definition, I ceased to be human almost a year ago. I'm an incredibly complicated collection of enchantments and spells that happen to contain my soul in perpetuity."

"you can't kill me in a way that matters." she continues, making a grin that shouldn't be possible with a human mouth but comes easily to her conjured form

"one question before my inevitable and terrible death: if you're an amorphous bundle of spells, why do you look like a girl?"
"because it's hot." she answers, smiling again

she leaves him just barely alive to send a message to her enemies in hopes that they'll learn to leave her alone
she knows they won't, but she's not a completely merciless force of nature

FIN.