If Fate Fractures (Volume 4: The Hurricane Journals)

By R.M. Plaiscia

After a surprise attack by the wizard Palmisano left the three Elysian Stones missing, it was the young Tereshka Tytanicus who at last guided the Vampire Storm into her arms, and it was Arabi who held the young witch Angela in his – beaten, bloodied, and left within an inch of death after her encounter with that very same Vampire Storm. So as Angela clings to life, across the swamp the vampire is left to search for the true attacker while yet another struggle for power unfolds within the brood of Saint Claude.
The only question is... will Marigny be able to quell the rebellion of the recently spelled Saint Claude youths? Or will his own pride serve as his downfall when a tournament is arranged to crown the first Composer of War in recent memory?
Either way it goes, as this Witch Game is assembled for the first time in several millennia, it will be the eldest Tytanicus, Jade, who unveils one final scheme to try and pull the vampire to her side. She understood better than almost anyone that this Vampire Storm possessed a power like none other, and controlling him meant controlling the future. But pulling another individual’s will within her own gravity is no simple task, and her celestial struggle will either bring her ancestral spell into being... or it will kill her. And as far as her sister Tereshka was concerned, killing Taryn Jade Tytanicus was exactly the point.

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.M. Plaiscia
• Release date: Sep 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311970022

R.M. Plaiscia

R.M. Plaiscia was born on June 8th, 1983, and raised in St. Bernard, Louisiana, just a footstep outside the city of New Orleans. He is but a humble soul with too many stories to tell. As a child, he created a universe combined both Star Wars and Star Trek into one cohesive story, at least for a 9-year-old. As his passion for professional wrestling grew, by the age of 13, he was filling 5-subject notebooks with his own scripted content known as the Notebook Wrestling Alliance. This lasted for years and spanned thousands of pages.In 2002, R.M. Plaiscia helped form the Backyard Wrestling Federation called EPW (Extreme Psychopathic Wrestling/EPW504 on YouTube), serving as Head Booker and Extreme Champion (wrestling under the character of Runko Butcher) until the group folded in the fall of 2004.In late 2005, after Hurricane Katrina devastated his hometown, flooding his own home with upwards of 15 feet of water, R.M. Plaiscia was one of the few to return home to live out his days in a FEMA trailer. Spending the next few years rebuilding his home while finishing his schooling at Nunez Community College, R.M. Plaiscia first discovered the original journal entries that unlocked this past long forgotten, and began work on his Shroud of Ages Saga.---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Favorite Authors/Writers (Books/Manga/Comics) - J.K. Rowling, Stephen King, Terry Goodkind, Timothy Zahn, J.R.R. Tolkien, George R.R. Martin, Akira Toriyama, Rumiko Takahashi, Robert KirkmanFavorite Musical Artists - The Doors, Megadeth, Alice in Chains, Cradle of Filth, Sepultura, Avenged Sevenfold, Gravediggaz, Three 6 Mafia, Nas, Nightwish, Within Temptation, One OK Rock, BabyMetal, Caleb Hyles, Smooth McGroove, Jonathan Young, Lindsey Sterling, Raon LeeFavorite Movie Franchises - Star Wars, Star Trek, Stargate, Godzilla, Gamera, Cloverfield, Alien, Die Hard,Favorite TV Shows - Stargate (SG1, SGA, SGU), Game of Thrones, How I Met Your Mother, Star Trek (TOS, TNG, DS9 - Still Need To Watch V & E), Babylon 5, I Love Lucy, Friday Night Lights, The Walking Dead, Arrested Development, Homeland, Spartacus, V, The Expanse,Favorite Anime/Manga/Cartoons - Dragon Ball (DB, DBZ, GT, Super), Inuyasha, Cowboy Bebop, Trigun, Yu Yu Hakusho, 7 Deadly Sins, Attack on Titan, My Hero Academia, Blue Gender, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Zoids, Pokemon, Invader Zim, Rick & MortyFavorite Sports Teams - New Orleans Saints (WHO DAT?!), New Orleans Pelicans, LSU Tigers, Las Vegas Golden Knights

Book preview

The Hurricane Journals

Volume IV

If Fate Fractures

Written By

R.M. Plaiscia

(A Shroud of Ages Novel)

If Fate Fractures

The Hurricane Journals – Volume 4

The Shroud of Ages Saga

Copyright 2015 - 2019 Ronald M. Plaiscia Jr.

All Rights Reserved

Published by Ronald M. Plaiscia Jr. at Smashwords

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Find More Works By R.M. Plaiscia at Smashwords.com - https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/RMPlaiscia

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance of actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely fictional.

DEDICATION

This work is dedicated to my parents – my Father, Ron, and my Mother, Gloria – for giving me life and raising me to face this existence. I love you with everything I have in my heart and thank you for all that you have given, provided, and taught me in this life.

Table of Contents

Witch-ionary

Start of Book

About the Author

Other Works by R.M. Plaiscia

Witch-ionary I

Basic Witch Terminology

Willborn – Young Witch, born of sheer will; lack of foresight.

Foreborn – Elder Witch, able to overcome their own will; dependant on foresight.

Foolheart – Young Warlock, ignorant to most magic; playful, void of testosterone.

Warwalker – Elder Warlock, having become one with the battlefield; flooded with testosterone.

Brightling – A Warlock who has embraced the art of wizardry instead of war; flushed clean of testosterone.

Kindlefell – Young Wizard, not yet skilled in the arts of wizardry, like kindle for a fire that is not yet lit.

Wakenwide – Elder Wizard, awakened to the magical arts of wizardry.

Arken – The Native Witch’s term for Vampire, believed to be their ancient creators.

Terra – Used both as a witch description for Earth, and to describe the magical energy they can create and wield.

Hylum – An ancient type of wood carved to create wizard staffs.

Frening/Draking/Draker – Not as versatile as the human variation of the F-word, but each are still used to promote emphasis, or to express anger, annoyance, contempt, or surprise.

(Prologue)

Sunday, December 26th, 1723

To whoever shall find these journals in whatever future will come of this reality, I write this not only because my identity may no longer be secure, but in an attempt to shed a bit of light upon what I know as the Shroud of Ages – that darkened blanket of secrecy that encompasses so much of this Earth’s troubled history.

This includes knowledge that was never meant to see the light of any day, thus the reason I must now only write of them beneath the moonlight. But secrecy and lies… they get us nowhere. So I am here to reveal to all that will read these words that monsters are indeed real. Very, very real. And I know this because… I am one of them.

I arrived here silently upon this mighty river’s crescent roughly fifteen months ago, after tracking a creature from the frozen territories of the north to the deepest swamps of this southern land, to a newly birthed settlement of man that had only recently been dubbed with a name.

That young settlement’s name was New Orleans, and this creature that had found its way there was known by the books of history as a vampire. But this particular vampire had come to be better known as the Vampire Storm, and not by any strange coincidence, either.

This blood-thirsty creature had been my responsibility for a great many years. It was my duty to mold him into exactly what he was meant to be, to assure that he was both willing and able to shift the future in the appropriate direction when the time came. But never was I successful in taming this under-evolved beast of a creature. Thus, appropriate measures needed to be taken.

Vampires, however, were born with very few weaknesses, and through their evolution they were able to do away with most of those that remained, until they were ultimately left with but a lone and single flaw. That was the only sure way to do away with them. Thus, that lone way to cease their heart from beating was to pierce it with a wooden shard, and for many centuries that simple act alone was enough to kill them. But as time passed the vampire race began to grow immune to each different type of wood that was used against them, until only one single form of wood remained. That wood was known as Aluvian by the natives of New Orleans’ surrounding swamps – Hylum by the old world witches – but back in my northern hideaway atop the peak of this newfound continent, where I attempted to control this uncontrollable vampire, none was available.

Still I knew, even though no other wood would do the job of killing him, any wood could at least cease his heart from beating, so long as that heart remained pierced. So I was forced to simply put this temperamental nuisance to sleep. Even though his regenerative abilities would keep him alive during the hibernation, his heart would not be allowed to beat again until I pulled that wood from out of his chest. Or at least… that’s how it was supposed to be.

It had been several thousand years before I ever returned to that frozen land of the north. But when I did, in the place of the vampire I’d left behind, all I found was that bloody shard of wood I’d left in his chest, just beside the mutilated carcass of a Polar Bear.

The massive animal had been completely skinned, presumably to keep the vampire warm in the freezing land of snow, but the blood still seemed relatively fresh – hardly covered by a day’s worth of snowfall – so I immediately began following the trail he’d left behind.

I continued to follow that trail of his for months, maybe even years, losing and finding it again and again along the way – across the length of this entire continent. Until finally, near the very bottom of this newly discovered land, upon a mighty river’s crescent, I found that vampire.

I quickly learned, however, that he had absolutely no conscious memories of his past at all. His mind was a near blank slate, holding barely enough information inside for him to even comprehend reality. His entire past must have become blotted out by those countless centuries of sleep. But because of the name he eventually placed upon himself, I knew that those memories were not gone completely.

The name that he chose was all too familiar, the very same that he’d screamed out in torment for countless years on end, though it seemed he couldn’t remember how to correctly pronounce it – Reggio.

It didn’t take him long, either, to find trouble in this newly discovered swamp, and that trouble came in the form of two warring clans of witches, the last known of the genus Dawnicus in all of existence. Beyond that, within one of those clans were two sisters of the nearly extinct bloodline of Tytanicus, a bloodline made legendary by bringing about many major shifts in the evolution of Witchkind. And my vampire just so happened to place himself directly in the center of the both of them.

So while these two sisters were caught up in their own personal power struggle over this Vampire Storm, the two clans of witches – each bearing the names of the Saints which had saved them from the realm of death, Saint Claude and Saint Bernard – they were left to fight amongst each other for control of the future.

Few, however, were able to see that it was this vampire who held the ability to sway the fate of all existence. But for those that did see this, namely the sisters Tytanicus, they began silently battling for his sole loyalty. And through the ever deceitful art of affection – however persuasive or forceful it may have been – the younger of the two, Tereshka Tytanicus, seemed to be well on her way to winning exactly that…

(Chapter 1)

The Dust of Dreams Gone By

"Quick question, Reggio blurted out as the blade of Tereshka whooshed past his head, his black as night hair sloshing from right to left as he maneuvered behind her, Does this happen to everyone that sleeps with you?"

The two of them stood between the vibrant sounds of a lush swamp and the raging waters of a mighty river, upon the banks of a wide crescent that curved the waters southward, and just as his fingertips touched her right shoulder-blade Tereshka spun around to the left – the sharpened edge of her sword’s blade cutting through the air, straight for the face of Reggio, answering as she did, Usually, yes.

His feet were already planted in the dirt, and with a twist he launched himself backwards, allowing the tip of her blade to deliver only a glancing slice to the tip of his nose. He smiled in response to it, running his left index finger across the cut, So this is what you meant when you said this would be fun?

Tereshka just laughed, brushing her sweaty golden hair from her face, Hey, it isn’t my fault you don’t find fighting for your life to be fun. And about that… you’re moving much too slow to actually be in fear for your life.

Well, you never said you were actually going to try and kill me, the vampire complained, wiping the blood away as his wound sealed itself shut, flesh wrapping around flesh to cover the former cut across his nose.

Tereshka pointed her sword towards his chest, taunting him, Makes you wish you didn’t stab that sword of yours into that tree over there, doesn’t it? She motioned towards the sword that was stabbed within a large oak tree beside them, put there fifteen months earlier by Reggio during a fit of annoyance. It was driven so deep into the bark that no one had yet to pull it out, although quite a few mortals had tried their hand.

He put it there because he didn’t believe he would ever need it. For him, such weapons were simply a waste of precious blood. He would rather have it running down his throat as opposed to it staining the blade of some sharpened piece of steel. But she was trying to show him that it could also be used as a defensive tool, not to kill but to protect one’s life. Thus her example began when she swung her sword at his skull.

Reggio’s eyes moved from her blade to the tree, then back to her as he responded to her comment about wishing he had his sword out of that tree, No, not at all, actually.

He took three steps towards her, using his palm to lift the swinging blade upwards as he swiped her hands away from its handle and snatched it gracefully from her grasp. Then, smiling all too playfully, he hurled her sword towards the wide trunk of that same oak tree. Not when I can simply stab yours right next to it!

Her eyes were widened by surprise, the smile disappearing from her face as her sword was driven eleven inches into the bark, now stabbed just alongside his. Hey, my mother gave me that sword! she moaned in annoyance.

And her sister gave me mine, he pointed out with a wicked scowl, Although, not willingly. But, either way… now they’re back together again – side by side.

As he laughed, Tereshka groaned with great frustration. It isn’t frening funny! Her eyebrows twisted upwards as she cast an accusing finger upon him.

Reggio, though, didn’t stop laughing. No, I’m pretty sure it is, he let her know, Especially with that look on your face… definitely worth the risk.

Tereshka’s eyes narrowed as she cracked her knuckles, one at a time. Let’s see if you’re still smiling when I get my hands around that frening neck of yours.

As he prepared for her response in advance, sliding one foot a step behind the other, he began taunting her, Well, if your grip is anything like the one you had on that sword… I probably will be.

That was enough to pull her action towards him, and as she screamed out loud enough for her voice to stretch all the way across the swamp, all the way back to the young settlement of New Orleans, she and Reggio began struggling for control of the other, battling beside the calming roar of the river.

He thought he had her wrapped up for a moment, but the young witch spun out of his grasp, laughing at him as she did, And you call my grip weak?

Reggio’s lips began to lift again, but a sudden fist knocked that smile right off of his face and spun his head to the side. He snapped right back around to meet her gaze, though, and spat out a bloody tooth from his mouth, That better grow back!

What, never lost a tooth before? she asked him with a wide smirk.

No, he shook his head in honesty, acting a bit freaked out by it.

Well, defend yourself properly and you won’t lose another!

As Tereshka charged him again, he blocked her next punch and used her arm to flip her over to her back. She rolled right back up to her feet, though, and made a move towards her sword – her open hands reaching out for it. Reggio, however, grabbed her by the yellow locks of her hair and pulled her out of reach. In turn she spun an open palm towards him with her left arm already beginning to glow with a pulsing energy. And just as that brightening blue light began to emanate from beneath her flesh, Reggio started his retreat.

Hey, that isn’t fair! he complained as he ran for the tree line, There is absolutely no need for any of your crazy super-powered witch-shit!

Tereshka’s arm turned as he did, though, ignoring his complaints completely as she unleashed a violent burst of bright blue energy from her palm. The air vibrated as that released energy exploded out of the same pours that sweat used to exit the body – of which had been gathered from the depths of her bloodstream, separated from her blood cells and mixed with the oxygen to create a burning and explosive wave of colored light… an energy known to witches as Terra.

The dirt behind Reggio erupted around him as this blast of terra hit the ground, propelling him forward as he promptly rolled away from the burning explosion, and as the mud rained down upon him, he gathered himself as quickly as he could.

Tereshka was smiling widely as Reggio stumbled up to his feet again, Ready to fight back yet?

He must not have responded fast enough because she charged him – the vampire she’d met only a year before, the vampire that she needed all so dearly to keep away from her sister.

He’d arrived upon this river’s crescent without any memories of his past at all, not who he was or where he’d come from, and the two sisters’ Tytanicus – Tereshka and Taryn Jade – had each been trying to bend his still unharnessed power to their will ever since. The younger of the two, Tereshka, was currently attempting to bring that power to the surface, trying to teach him how to properly control it. Her golden hair was bouncing with each stride as Reggio stared deep into her hardened eyes of blue, and as she grew closer he wondered why anyone could ever see such overwhelming beauty as a threat.

She was a fiery witch, sure, full of great passion and furious vigor, but so was most every other witch around here, as far as he could tell. They were all fighting for their lives, to survive within this new world ruled by the race of man. They were the sole survivors of their entire race, the absolute last of their kind.

He would have figured such a trait to be expected. So what made her so different?

Why was Tereshka feared so deeply by those within her own brood?

He had to stop thinking about it as he dodged a left fist, then a right, and then latched onto her right leg as she threw it up at his head. As he pulled her close and held her still, their foreheads left shoved against one another, his eyes became locked with hers. He could see the emotional fire burning within them, no differently than her older sister, Jade. And while those two witches had been trying to vie for his attention ever since his arrival, it was Tereshka that held something in her eyes that her sister did not, something that seemed to make the vampire ever more curious of her.

It was a different sort of passion that he saw hidden behind those flames, one that seemed to pull him ever closer towards her by the second. It calmed him, soothed his aggression, and in these moments of training it distracted him just long enough for Tereshka to push herself away and raise her free leg straight into his gut. As he released his grip on her, she ran up his chest to kick off of him and flip herself through the air, stumbling backwards as she landed.

Reggio was still hunched over from the shots he hadn’t seen coming as he raised his head to look at her, whipping back his night-black hair from his face. It slapped across his shoulder blades, sweat exploding as he noticed a determination in her eyes that was much unlike her sister’s.

Jade’s eyes always gave away her confidence, almost using it as an intimidation tactic – showing that she had nothing left to prove to anyone.

Tereshka, however, burned with a desire to improve herself with each moment, to grow with every punch she threw. She knew that there were others out there more powerful that herself, and constantly worked with every movement to further evolve her own strength.

He could see in her eyes that she believed him to be a stronger warrior than herself, but still she pushed him to fight with all of his power.

Stop holding back, damn it! she hissed at him, sounding all too serious. If you ever wish to defeat my sister, you must not hesitate.

Wait… defeat your sister? he asked, caught completely off guard by the comment. Who ever said anything about that?

She cannot be trusted, Reggio, the young witch warned as her voice neared a suddenly desperate tone. Both of our destinies are already set in stone, my sister and I. That can never be undone. In time we will eventually destroy each other, because history knows that there is only room in this life for one Tytanicus. But you, Reggio… you still have a choice. You have the ability to sway the future in whichever direction you choose.

After a long and drawn out sigh, she went on, My sister’s path is one of conquest and power, while mine merely seeks to gain us all the freedom we so rightly deserve. Even now, with our clan’s ultimate future in jeopardy, she only works to further split us apart. But only a single path can be chosen, Reggio… and it is up to you to decide which path the future will travel through.

The vampire could only shake his head. He didn’t like the notion of having to choose between the only two witches that cared anything about him. He didn’t want to believe that he would lead only one of them into the future, so, No, that’s alright. I like having both of you around. So if I truly do have a choice, then that is all that I wish… He looked her right in the eyes as he told her, I wish to keep the both of you at my side for the remainder of time.

The willborn could only smile as she shook her head, If only destiny were that simple. She then laughed aloud, That time has long since grown stale, Reggio… something I suppose you will have to realize on your own, and then she growled as she charged him again, Now, vampire, enough talk of my sister… there is only time to defend yourself!

Meanwhile, miles to the north, as Tereshka’s howls echoed as mere whimpers on the southern shores of the Lake Pontchartrain – Jade, the elder Tytanicus, faced the rising moon.

Out in front of her the mud was carved into different symbols, some of them lined with various herbs and flowers while others were left empty. There were also three holes that had been dug before her, two empty and one filled with broken leaves and the crumbled petals of only a single flower, in which she dropped a single strand of hair into each.

Then, as she pulled a small dagger from her waist she opened up a small slit on her right palm and allowed only three droplets of her blood to drip into the hole filled with broken leaves and flower petals, directly atop that specific strand of hair. The other two holes, after a quick walk into the lake, she packed with wet sand. Then she was left to chant at the moon as it marched its way across the sky…

No’tt na minn no-chi, ryu-leysa mi bjo’do, staishi mi rola’go.

(Night of my blood, release my command, begin my connection)

***

Back in the shaded edges of the crescent swamp, Tereshka pushed Reggio backwards with a succession of rapid punches as she shouted at him, Just keep your eyes on my shoulders. They will give away my next move, but you will have to figure your own way out.

After taking a few fists to each of his cheeks, he started blocking and dodging each one, doing well to keep his eyes on the movements of her shoulders, just as she’d instructed him. They did indeed give away each move she would make as they drove forward each of her thrusts, pushing him closer and closer to the raging river. But they also revealed the shifts she would make, how hard each punch would be thrown, and eventually allowed him the space to slip to the side and latch onto the next fist that came his way.

As he spun her around and tossed her again into the dirt, with a roll she was right back in his face again, shoving her forehead against his as she hissed, That’s good. But try stopping this!

Reggio then ducked beneath a looping right fist, believing that it was her next attack. But as he slipped swiftly beneath it, dropping his chin straight into Tereshka’s rising knee, he realized it was only a ploy.

The impact of her knee colliding with his chin popped him straight back up, and got him kicked straight in the chest. That shot then rolled him backwards through the dirt, and as he stumbled back to his feet he took an open palm strike to the nose – rattling his skull, blurring his vision, and leaving him wide open to have his legs swept right out from under him.

He was left hanging in the air for a moment, his body falling sideways into the dirt, and the young witch helped him down with a double-fisted smack across his ribs. He hit the dirt with a thud and instantly found Tereshka on top of him, raining down punches.

Reggio had his arms held out in front of his face, trying to block the thunderstorm of fists that were falling down upon him. But every now and again one of those fists would slip through his arms and land on his chin, smashing his head back into the dirt. And after enough of them had landed he finally began to fight back.

He reached up with one arm, wrapping his fingers within her hair as she snuck a few more fists into his face, and then lifted his own forehead up into her nose. The sudden impact rocked her senses as she was knocked sideways, and he used the moment to ram her head into a nearby tree, slumping her downward.

With a thrust of his hips he rolled her off of him. But as he pushed himself up to his feet, Tereshka was right behind him. Reggio held his hands in a defensive stance, waiting to react to her movement. This caused a smile to widen her lips as she stood, charging two steps towards him and then stopping abruptly to throw a huge left hook. Reggio, though, kept his eyes on her shoulders, watching closely as they shifted, and then landed a violent right hand before her arm ever came forward.

His knuckles bashed her behind the ear, rattling her teeth as her head was twisted sideways.

The impact lifted her feet off the ground as her eyes rolled back into her skull, and she was dropped hard into the dirt.

Reggio was at her side instantly, realizing she had just been knocked unconscious, but not to attack her further. Instead he knelt beside her, feeling the mud oozing between his fingers, waiting until her eyes blinked back into consciousness.

I’m sorry, he told her. I never meant to…

Stop, she lifted a finger against his lips. You did exactly as I asked, nothing more. For that, all I can do is thank you.

Reggio was taken aback by her response, unable to process it completely, and he was left staring down at her in confusion. After a minute or so of staring into each other’s eyes, though, Tereshka broke the silence. Now, come on, help me up. And remember… love makes us all weak. So, next time… don’t fall for it.

Next time? Reggio asked. What do you…?

A quick elbow was snuck into his gut, proving her point, and it was followed by her arms wrapping around his head to flip him over her shoulder, straight down onto his back with her glowing palm pointed down at his face.

Alright… you win, Reggio conceded, But like I was trying to say… I’m happy with what we have now. So I’m not planning for a next time.

The young witch could only sigh as she allowed the energy to dissipate back into her arm, You don’t have to want it, Reggio… but there always will be.

That little fight was merely the continuation of their struggle within the stone-carved bed of Reggio, and would continue for another three hours before they finally escaped back into the confines of that very same bed, now covered in the ash of burned linen and dry-stained passion.

But as they fought with each other, off across the swamp, along the banks of the same mighty river and within the massive castle built beside it, the warwalker known as Marigny – he who had only recently claimed control of his clan – found himself putting that control up for grabs…

Sixteen witches shall be chosen, the warwalker pointed towards his younger counterpart, a foolheart by the name of Teveran – the loudest warlock still opposed to Marigny’s leadership, Eight of those witches will be chosen by myself, while the remaining eight will be chosen by you… and to the winner shall go the title of War Composer!

But explaining all of that would be getting a bit ahead of the story.

I should really begin a few hours before, back before the vampire and the witch had even wound up entangled in each other’s grasp within his stone-carved bed, surrounded by flame – back when it was Reggio and Angela who were lost in their own struggle upon a river’s crescent…

(Six Hours Before – Sometime After Midnight)

While locked in their struggle for control of the other – the vampire and the intruding witch Angela – Reggio had pulled out of the young witch’s grasp just as quickly as she’d pulled him in. In response, she came at him with a straight punch, so he threw a low knee in return. He was side stepping the punch as his leg was rising, and he drove his knee up into her gut, digging it in deep as she bent around it.

That shot dropped the witch face down onto her knees, leaving her holding her stomach as she fought for breath, and