Fungal Halo

The heroine swoops in toward the site of the explosion, keeping an eye out for—ah, there she is. Her great nemesis, striding through the destruction, catches her eye at the same time and grins widely. "Ah, there you are! Fireworks always were the best way to get your attention."

A witch, experimenting with the dolls she keeps as servants, tweaking how much of them to take away. The emptier they are, the more obedient, the less they get up to mischief, but also, sadly, the less initiative they take and the more supervision they require.

A witch may use many different techniques for the construction of her dolls.

Most witches these days create dolls from raw material imbued with purpose, but some still keep the old ways alive by making their dolls from people.

Either way, one has many options.

The goddess watches while her chosen hero arrives at the culmination of his journey. He's so close now. All he needs to do is raise the amulet and speak the invocation, and the goddess's great enemy will at last be vanquished.

And yet, he collapses instead. He fails.

"I'm so sorry!"

At first I thought apologizing might be enough this time. She's always so kind and gentle under normal circumstances, after all, and she responds to my words with a gracious nod and a reassuring smile.

And then she moves toward the mask.

Month by month, my ability to function degrades. Something in my knee pops, every step summoning an agonizing grinding noise. One hand twitches violently whenever I do not concentrate on keeping it still. Noise creeps in at the edges of my vision.

I am running out of hope.

The combat doll leaves a wake of fire and blood—noteworthy in scale even by the standards of this place—as it makes its way through yet another circle of hell.

At last it arrives at its destination, the prison for the soul of its old witch.

It's been a bad day. I thought I saw…Her. At the grocery store, picking out lemons, like a regular person. She would never, I know, but…

My therapist tells me it's normal, that I should remind myself I left that part of my life far behind me, and She can't take me back.