The Tale of Vanessa, Witch of the Cemetery - SCP Foundation

The Tale of Vanessa, Witch of the Cemetery

Byㅤ MoreMuffins

Published on 29 Apr 2022 16:30

The Tale of Vanessa, Witch of the Cemetery

The Traveler approached the rusted metal gate of the cemetery. The gas lights usually hanging near the gate had shattered, leaving only the blood red light of the full moon to light their way.

Why were they here? The Traveler pondered this question. Why wander across this dying world? What are you searching for? Questions which they had no answers to. But the Traveler kept moving, because they could feel it. The calling of something… someone. As if someone higher was guiding them.

Creeping along the path, The Traveler moved through the graveyard. Each headstone passed was covered by vines, blooming luminescent white flowers. Despite the graveyard only being inhabited by the dead and their memories, The Traveler heard a faint humming ahead.

Coming closer to the source of it, The Traveler could see what that melodic sound was truly coming from. A hooded woman was kneeling by a gravestone, humming serenely to herself. Cloaked in delicate white sheets, with a face marred by a blood soaked cloth, the woman reached out a single pale, bony hand, and gently touched the grave.

Vines quickly shot up from the ground, wrapping around the gravestone, the glowing white flowers that sprouted from them began to bloom. The woman bowed her head, sitting in silence for a moment before moving to the next grave.

The humming continued.

The Traveler approached the woman. They were sure that the woman noticed them, but she showed no ill intent. Rather, she greeted the Traveler with a piercing gaze, despite the cloth, before turning back to her task.

“Excuse me.” The Traveler says.

Silence. Then, a quiet, frail voice.

“A wanderer? In these parts?” She asked, seemingly eyeing The Traveler.

Placing their weapon on the ground next to them, The Traveler sat down near the woman. “Places like these are dangerous. Crawling with the undead.” They said.

“…I doubt that will be a problem.” Placing a hand on the gravestone, the woman bloomed even more vines and flowers, seemingly from her own palm. The flowers were soft and delicate — A stray breeze could blow the petals off. And yet, those flowers grew on vines covered in thorns. As the woman bowed her head, she spoke quietly. “They do not wish to walk again.”

Turning to the Traveler, she gives a tight smile.

“Who are you, wanderer?”

“Nameless.” The Traveler replies. “Who might you be?”

“Vanessa. I hail from central Xerophylla.”

The Traveler pauses. This site was quite a journey away from the city's center. They turn towards her.

“Why are you here?” The Traveler asks.

“I am simply paying my respects.” Vanessa says quietly, a touch of sadness flavoring her voice.

She stands, brushing off the dirt and dust from her clothes. She gestured toward the gravestone by her feet, "JACOB LEONHARDT" was engraved on it.

"This man, Mister Leonhardt, was a man from Ilcana, a short walk north from here. He died many decades ago… along with his family, his wife and two daughters." She paused for a moment, tilting her head down in thought. "People like Mister Leonhardt and his family don't have anyone left alive to remember them, not after the war."

Vanessa turned to face The Traveler. "Were you there, Wanderer? During the first Arcane War?”

“I’m not familiar.” The Traveler said.

“It was many decades ago. Xerophylla was at war with the northerners in Ilcana. There was an idea, to… contain Witches. To use their knowledge and skill with arcana to win the war against the north. Young witches were taken from their families, and trained in Xerophylla’s armies. They were stationed on the frontlines along with soldiers.”

Another pause. Vanessa took a deep breath before she continued.

“I was… one of them. The first child of the Witch queen Saralynn and Xerophylla’s strongest."

Vanessa walked towards a nearby grave, gently resting her hand on the headstone.

"The war lasted only three nights, the shortest war in history. The northerners were outnumbered and outmatched. Xerophylla moved in on the capital, leaving only destruction and death behind us."

She turns to face The Traveler. "This… massacre… it didn't sit well with any of us. Not the Witches, not the soldiers. But we pushed on, all the way to Ilcana's capital."

“During the siege of the capital city, I learned something. I saw a small child, holding onto what was left of his deceased mother, his eyes full of tears. I saw a mother desperately trying to protect her children. I saw families embracing each other in their final moments, accepting their fate.”

Vanessa slides her hand across the top of the grave, a solemn expression crossing her face.

“The northerners weren’t evil. They weren’t heartless demons like our leaders had told us.”

Vines shot up from the earth, the white flowers covered the grave.

“They had families, they had friends, they felt joy, they felt sadness, they knew empathy. They were human." She said, her voice breaking. "Our leaders had told us that we were the light that held off the darkness. The ones who protected those who couldn't protect themselves. It was a lie. All of it."

"I've killed thousands, all for a lie."

Vanessa pointed to the glowing white flowers on the graves.

“This is where all of those people were buried. All of the innocent people I’ve killed. The flowers I grow here will allow their spirits to pass on in peace, even after the final sunset.”

As Vanessa walked towards the next grave, she suddenly stumbled, then tilted, falling to the ground.

“Are you alright?” The Traveler said, rushing to help her.

Vanessa’s cloak opened, revealing her body. She was thin, she clearly hadn’t eaten in days.

“I’m fine, wanderer, I-”

She coughed, her deep blue blood spilled on her white clothes.

“I can find help, I know someone who can heal you. If you need food I can-”

She interrupted, “There’s no need, Wanderer. This is my punishment.”

Vanessa reached out to The Traveler, a white flower blossomed in the palm of her hand.

“I will not last much longer. Please, place this flower on that grave. Let them pass on.”

The Traveler took the flower, placing it on the grave. They looked around the cemetery, each and every grave was glowing a bright white light.

The flower that they had placed glowed with that same white light.

“Wanderer.” Vanessa whispered. She looked up.

“All I ask is to see the stars… one last time.”

She was too weak to move, The Traveler lifted the blood stained cloth from her eyes, Her eyes glowed with a bright blue light. She gazed at the millions of stars in the night sky, a view she hadn’t seen in many years.

As her eyes slowly shut, Vanessa smiled.