The mansion loomed over Oz’s tall figure. Upon closer look, none of the mansion lights are on, creating an illusion of abandonment. But Oz’s keen eyes knew better than to let the illusion trick him. Standing behind one of the windows was the one he had been expecting. Even if her figure blended with the darkness, Oz had no problem recognizing the pair of red hues, now hollowed out into pitch black.
Their eyes met and the witch smiled, creating mimics of the winter’s cold and harsh winds on its behalf. It was the same curve of her lips but it held no warmth. It was cynical, enticing a shiver to travel down Oz’s spine. He stood there, waiting for her to do something, but the girl only stared down from where she stood.
With a shaky sigh, Oz moved towards the bronze-embedded doors. His hands
