"My dear girl," she'd cackle with a malevolent grin. "If your true love's return you seek, you must kill another's within the week." I'd crumble to the ground, my nightgown covered in dirt, weeping at the beastly task, the horrid riddle. "I...can't." "Then he remains a lizard."
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I'd stay up all night staring at my lizard husband warming himself under the glow of his state-of-the-art infrared terrarium light with automatic motion-sensor shut-off. "What do I do? What would you have me do?" He'd blink at me with all four eyelids and I'd know. I'd know.
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Two nights later, haggard and panting, I'd return to the clearing in the woods. "Witch!" I'd shout. "I've done your bidding!" "Good," she'd creak, appearing before me, an inky phantom. "Hand me the heart of another girl's love." I'd hold up a satchel, dripping with blood.
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"Here," I'd choke. "Look. Come closer." Her gnarled white hands would grasp the strings as she'd greedily start to open the satchel, ravenous and mad with power. I'd steel my nerves and snatch it back. "But first. Give me the anti-lizarding potion." Our eyes would lock.
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"Do you not TRUST me, dear?" she'd coo, saccharine and unnerving. "I...I do. Of course I do. I just want to make sure we both get what we have earned." She'd reach into her cloak pocket, her raven-black eyes still fixed on mine, and produce a tiny vial.
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I'd snatch the vial from her outstretched hand and thrust the blood-soaked satchel into the other. Her wicked glee would distract her just enough that she wouldn't notice the lizard carefully climbing up the back of her cloak.
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As my pulse quickened to a hum, I'd quietly uncork the bottle. Just as the lizard was at her neck, she'd look up in horror, her face contorted in a mask of pure rage. I'd feel a rush of cold fill my chest as she'd screech "YOU WRETCHED GIRL. THIS IS A COW'S HEART."
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In a flash of pure adrenaline, I'd lunge toward her and splash the contents of the bottle directly on the lizard clinging to her collar. She'd scream a ghastly scream as a 175-pound man suddenly formed around her shoulders, breaking her neck with a horrible crack.
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As she'd writhe, bug-eyed and panicked for a moment before taking her final breath, I'd loom over her and say "And that's why I'd love my husband if he turned into a lizard." Then I would turn to my true love and give him a high five that would shake the heavens.
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