Your Poor, Unfortunate Soul

The witch did not see nor hear from or about James for three weeks, but this did not bother her.  Why?  Because it always seems that James has managed to stay out of trouble himself, so she did not worry.  During this time period, the witch fixed the basement interior.  She cast a spell to make sure outsiders would not notice the return of the witch.  

The woman twirled in the center of the basement as the winds entered the room through a small crack between the wall and the left window.  The winds were especially joyous, and so was the witch.  She hummed, but made sure that her voice could not heard to the outside world.

The witch twirled again.  The heavy wooden door leading down to the basement opened noisily.  The witch turned to face the door, and her eyes widened at the sight of Avenged Sevenfold.  She was surprised to see James was not with them.  The witch took them all in, every last detail she imprinted in her mind.

She swallowed back bile that had gathered in her throat, “H-hello.”

The tallest sneered at the witch.  “I am Matthew, and you have once again broken the treaty, witch.”

The witch rolled back her shoulder and smoothed out her dress.  “I am not my mentor, I have no treaty.  I am free to travel where I wish.”

A harsh, cold gust of wind blew into the room and circled the witch.  One of the Avenged, a green-eyed man, glared at the witch and yelled, “Even before us she practices her witchcraft!  Burn her at the stake and cut out her heart!”

The shortest stepped forward, but one with brown eyes stopped him.  He gave an apprehensive glance to the witch.  “Silence, Zachary.  Johnathan, do not be as impulsive as James.”  He looked to the witch.  “Witch, what do the winds speak of?  Do they tell you of the tragedy of James?”

The witch stared at the floor and mumbled, “I sense there is tragedy at hand.  The fates have never meant to be kind to dear James had he gone the path of my power-giver.  James has damned himself, pray tell, what has happened?”

Matthew's face became hard as he looked at the brown-eyed man.  “Brian!  Why do you share information with this harlot of a witch?” he sneered.

Brian frowned, “Do not scold me.  The witch is a friend of James. She is not a harlot.  James has secretly betrayed us many ways you do not know of.”

The witch nodded slowly.  She walked past the men and opened a small window.  The wind blew in slowly, but slowly chilled the room.  The witch brushed black hsir out of her pale face.

“James had indeed betrayed you many time, of many things.  That is not the case though.  What,” a more venomous tone entered her voice, “has happened to my dear friend?”

The witch turned to face the Avenged men.  Matthew grabbed the back of Johnathan's brown and blonde hair and shoved her forward.  Johnathan stumbled, but quickly composed himself.

“What happened?” the witch pushed.

“Speak.” Matthew demanded to the shortest man.

Johnathan swallowed back spit and began the story, “At the dinner, the drinks tasted funny.  Sweeter, as you must know.  And then Jimmy started acting weird towards me.  He was so touch-y toward me.  The rest of Avenged and I dismissed it as him being drunk.  The weird behavior continued until finally MCR came by and arrested James.  They're executing him in a few days, and they will no doubt want to talk to you.”

The witch raised an eyebrow and shook her head.  “Then why come here?”

“Matt wanted to trick you into letting us kill you.” Zachary said pointedly. Matthew glared at him.

“GO!” The witched yelled, anger rising in her chest and expelling out her mouth.  Her blue eyes turned black and the winds began to pick up, circling around the witch.  The harsh gusts picked up leaves.  

The four remaining men of Avenged Sevenfold stepped back with horrified expressions.  

“GET OUT!” she screamed.

The men left quickly, nearly running over each other.  The witch screamed in anger and began destroying what progress she had made restoring her home.  The outside weather surrounding the town turned sour.  Heavy rain and harsh winds attacked the small homes.  The storm raged all night until the witch collapsed, her breathing nearly none existing.  

All through the night and through the storm, Avenged Sevenfold, all five men, conversed and tried to find a way to blame the witch.  They could find nothing that did not point back to James.  They finally decided to disband in the middle of the storm.  With a silent, “fuck,” James leaned back into the bed of his cell.  It reminded him so much of the witch's basement.

James' sighed, “Oh, how I ache for you, Johnny.”

A smirking blonde uniformed man heard, a triumphant smirk replacing the smug one that usually adorned his face.

“I sense a fag's death in the air.” he said to the other men with him.  Similar smirks were placed on their faces.