Fungal Halo

Once, there were three of them.

One who was almost an angel.

One who was almost a doll.

One who was almost a person.

The three of them were almost friends.

It seemed like a nice date at first. She cooked you an elaborate meal, she shared such interesting stories, and the way she looked at you with those arresting eyes made you squirm in your seat.

Then she told you that the pie had been poisoned and all the doors were locked.

When I was a fresh young witch—newly come into my power and before I was Unbowed—I received a gift from my mentor.

Witches do not commonly give each other gifts, and such a gesture always comes with strings attached. This was no different.

The old witch gave me a doll.