My Long Lost Mate - Chapter 141

“Doves don’t kill—but snakes do.”

She tightened her grip on my neck, the smile on her face growing wider as she did so. Her serpent-like eyes glimmered, a hint of excitement seen as she choked me.

The sigil stopped absorbing the fingers the moment Doris stopped singing, but the people remained controlled. The three wolves were still fighting with the snakes, struggling as there was no end to them. They only kept coming.

“I’ve always wanted to kill a white witch,” Doris grinned, licking her lips as if she was hungry for blood. The thought of killing me excites her so, and I was not in any way willing to help her in achieving her dream. “You disgust me,” she spitted out.

I struggled beneath her, trying to tear her hands away from me. I hurriedly rummaged through my pocket, pulling out the knife Luke gave me before. Feeling it firm in my hand, I stabbed the knife into her sides, immediately causing her to cry in pain.

Blood immediately stained her dress, flowing out profusely to even reach my dress. Though I didn’t want to hurt Doris, I had no other choice. If I don’t fight, I die. I flipped her over as she weakened her grip on my throat, swapping to a more favorable position.

One question has been bugging my mind since before. Why were her eyes like this? If she was also under the control of a black witch, she should have had the same milky eyes as the others. But what made her different? Black witches were known for their serpent-like eyes, so how could Doris have such eyes as well?

Is Doris a black witch?

If she is, what should I do now? What should I do to stop her from continuing the ritual? I glanced around, looking for any answers to my question. People. Snakes. Fingers. Sigil. What’s the most important thing here?

I looked down at Doris, knowing that she was the most important thing here. Even if I knock her out, it doesn’t necessarily mean that the ritual will be over. She could proceed with the ritual once she came back to her consciousness, and nothing would change as we couldn’t release these people from under her control solely with our power.

Doris was the only one who could return these people to their previous state—should she really be the one controlling these people. But what about Mary? Maggie said that she was certain that it was Mary who was controlling these people, knowing full well that a blood witch was a very rare existence among the black witches.

Mary was the only witch who had this ability to control these people with her blood, and yet, she was nowhere in sight. There were absolutely no black witches in sight since the beginning of the ritual, and Doris was the only person who could be suspected of being a black witch after looking at the state of her eyes right now.

“Stop the ritual,” I said, pulling out the knife from her sides, then moving it to her throat. Blood gushed out of her sides and splattered all over the ground, but I paid no mind. Blood was not a rare sight to me, so I was used to it.

Though I was holding a knife to her throat, I wasn’t sure what to do next. Do I kill her?

Doris simply laughed despite her pain, amused at how I was threatening her. She acted as if it was something that she would only see in her dreams.

“Why would I?”

“Why?” I was dumbfounded by her question. How could she be this apathetic? “Because you’re stealing someone else’s life. You’re stealing someone else’s son, daughter, mother, father, all for the sake of your greed and dreams. You’re sacrificing someone else’s life to make yours better, and you still dare to ask why?”

Angered, I drew the knife closer to her throat, grazing her skin ever so slightly to cause her blood to flow out. Why am I so angry? Was it because I felt a similarity between me and these poor people?

Black witches used these people to achieve their dreams, whereas my life was used to entertain others—my father and his beloved wife. The feeling of being unable to do anything despite your unwillingness was something that I never wanted to experience again or for anyone else to experience. It was horrible.

“Don’t make me laugh,” she snickered, but anger gleamed in her eyes. “Why do you care so much about the people you don’t even know? I doubt they will do the same to you.”

Why? Isn’t it something that anyone would do if they saw someone suffering? But… she was right. People never cared about me. Not even when they knew who I was. If it weren’t for Anna, no one would have felt sympathetic to the situation I used to be in. Luke and the others were the first to show me the compassion Anna showed me.

Compassion was an unfamiliar feeling to me, but I couldn’t help but have such feelings when I saw the terrible things happening to these people. Isn’t it human? For me to feel this way?

“Ahh, is it because you’re a white witch?” She raised her brows to the question, rolling her eyes. The mention of a white witch always irked her. “Always so self-righteous. You always think the things that we—black witches—do are always wrong, don’t you?”

“And do you think what you’re doing right now is right? Taking people’s lives?”

“It’s for the greater good,” she replied nonchalantly, and I couldn’t sense a hint of doubt in her voice. She meant exactly what she said. She didn’t care about these people.

“What exactly is the greater good for you?” I asked, feeling my anger boiling up. It’s been a long time since I last met someone this evil. Perhaps there are a lot more of them in this world. “For black witches to rule over the world? For you, snakes, to kill us doves?”

Hearing my question, she let out the loudest of laughs, not minding the blood that was flowing out of her sides. Something I said must have sounded funny to her, especially the last part.

“You’re quite smart for a white witch,” she said in between her laughter, then stopped laughing when she said with a glare, “We’re doing exactly what you did to us.. It’s payback.”