Pixies and Agnes.

The sky was dark and the moon shone as the only radiance. I walked down the cobbled street with my little bag of sweets clutched tightly in my hand, as I pulled my cape tighter around me to guard my body from the cold. My parents would worry if I didn't get home soon so I picked up my pace as I made my way down the last part of the street and turned the corner. The little corner shop that was supposed to be there, wasn't. I must have taken the wrong street. I back tracked my path and found another cobbled street but this wasn't the right one either. I started to worry and I could feel tears starting to form in my eyes. I was lost and didn't know what to do. My dad had shown me a shortcut which ran through the forest behind our house. It was pretty dark and I had never been that way before on my own, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I soon found the forest and entered through a clump of trees. They were very tall trees so the only light the moon had provided was blacked out. The slight rustle of leaves from the wind and the occasional hoot of an owl was all I could hear. Pushing my way past the branches and bushes which clawed at me from all sides, I made my way further into the woods and tried to find a path to follow. Suddenly, I saw a flash of green ahead of me. It startled me and I fell backwards tripping over a root sticking up from the hard earth. I felt something else on the floor next to me, I quickly got up and rushed ahead in the direction of the flash of green.  I could hear noises behind me so I hurried on, deeper and deeper into the woods. 

That's when I saw the mysterious show. Lots of little childlike creatures were dancing around in circles, wearing miniature green outfits and pointy hats to match with their spiked ears sticking up underneath them.  Mesmerised, I advanced slightly, keeping myself hidden behind a big oak tree. The pixies were clutching tiny lamps which gave off a slight green glow and they were singing such a strange song:

She is indeed a wondrous witch with claws,

But this aspect of her, she rarely shows.

She lives down south in the cave in the Dave Hills,

And is the exact noise you hear when you scratch paper with your quills.

It is not your imagination playing on your innocent little mind,

It is in fact Black Agnes, just search carefully and clues you will find.

She possesses a taste for human flesh,

Especially you tiny ones, and turns you into mesh.

She’s made herself a comfortable home, which to you is known as Black Annis’ Bower;

But just remember, she was once a resident of the infamous London Tower.

We pixies are known to be her most loyal friends,

Anything we need, her share of fame or a little snack, she gladly lends.

So beware feisty children, remember to behave,

If not, she’ll have you as her slave.

 

I caught sight of a movement behind them where the tallest and widest tree in the forest stood. If I squinted, I could see it was stood in front of a sort of cave. It must have been my imagination but I was sure I saw part of the tree open and close like a door, as quick as a flash. As I stood watching the act in awe, I could sense something wasn't quite right. The tiny creatures seemed to be moving closer and closer towards me with every verse of their song.  Their queer voices became louder and louder and I noticed a dark shadow behind them which was also advancing. I wanted to run away but my cape had got stuck on a branch and the more I tugged the more it stayed knotted there. I was trapped. The Pixies were now right in front of me and they had made a gap in their formation  so that the black shadow could get a closer look at me. The shadow was a woman dressed all in black with a mad gleam in her eye and straggly black hair surrounding her head like a mane. Tied at her waist were several pieces of skin, which I believed had once belonged to other children my age. Instead of hands she had claws, similar to those of an eagle.  She lifted a crooked arm and in a quick movement the tree had vanished from in front of me. There was a sudden gust of wind which moved the trees so that the moon shone on her right claw as it was raised again and made its way in the direction of my neck.

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(Co-written by me and Mich. She wrote the story and I wrote the song/poem)