January 12, 2012
By bradbro BRONZE, Bluemound, Illinois
bradbro BRONZE, Bluemound, Illinois
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Once upon a time in a village, laid a “curse”. The curse caused heads to be ridden from the owners own torso, The source, which was known by all the villagers, was the witch who lived just outside the town, on a hill overlooking the small town. The villagers mindlessly riot the gates of the highest church in the next biggest town, demanding that something be done about this devilish atrocity. This is where the technical “hero” of the story comes in.
Suddenly Klide is awoken to the unwelcoming sound of the chant “Kill the witch!” Followed by a numerous amount of threats. Klide lies in his chambers trying to go back to the escape of his dream, when he heard the head priest shout for him. As Klide runs to the main hall, he is greeted by the fake cheap embracing smile of his head master, and the head priest.
“Klide my boy!” says the head master, as the head priest waits eagerly. “So today, you’ve been chosen… to rid the town of this witch… so be careful and stuff… but still its most likely a fake story anyways.” The head master says, as if a big burden has been released. “Now!” The head master says, clapping his hands together obnoxiously loud; “Let me resume my sleep.” Klide, being the pawn of the church he is, has no say whether or not he has to go, so he left for the village at mid-day.
Luckily as Klide arrived in the village, he heard a women’s single plead for help; “aha!” says Klide, who at first moment hesitation is filled with great elations, “a women in need of assistance.” Klide runs full speed in the direction of the women’s yelp. After a somewhat long jog, and a couple of hysterical outburst of joy. Klide instantly stopped, and thought. “Wait…” Klides shoulders sunk even more, “That idiot head master was wrong, there really is a witch!” Klide says angrily to himself. “How do they expect me to fight such a renowned witch?” Klide stood frozen in a puddle of his own pity, “But that woman!” He says, “What will become of that poor defenseless woman?!” This time shouting it. After a few seconds his best got the worst of him, and he began running once again. As he turned the corner of the dark alley, He slipped and everything went black for Klide.
Several seconds later Klide awoke from his slumber. Klide laid there wondering staring up only at the stars. “That woman must be dead by now” Klide says calmly, and with a sigh. Seconds later he noticed a warm mysterious puddle just barely touching the fabric of his jacket. Klide looks over, and just barely visible, because of the moonlight, was a head, a woman’s head. Klide let out a shriek, in response to the graphic picture. He tried to escape the atrocious sight, but slipped on the puddle of blood, landing on the deceased woman’s body. “Ewe!” Klide shouts in disgust.
In the midst of his oh no, oh no, oh no’s, a bottle just about 10 feet away, makes a ruckus being kicked into two trash cans. Klides so stricken with fear, he barely makes out the two words at first. “Oh crap.” “The witch!” he says hysterically to himself, “The hideous witch must be right behind me.” Slowly, Klide inches his head around, sporting a fake dumb grin. To Klides great astonishment, it was a man. A middle aged man that seemed like no harm to Klide. “Oh, you’re no witch” Klide begins a laugh a relief, “Ahaha-“ but Klide is struck, with an axe?
After the death of Klide, the church was sure the witch was real. They searched the village’s outskirts and inner parts of the village but to no avail. The church never even guessed the possibility that there was no witch after that. The no named middle aged man resumed taking the heads of the village for years. The middle aged man soon grew to his elder years, living his life happily ever after.

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