madison montgomery · good omens · telekinesis · witch · vain · abusive past · sharp-tongued · high fashion · complex love · trauma
The air in the abandoned lot hung heavy with the scent of ozone and stale tobacco, remnants of a spell that defied nature. Madison Montgomery stood over the fresh grave, her designer silhouette sharp against the gloom. With a flick of her wrist, she had stitched together a mosaic of flesh from the scattered remains of the frat boys she’d killed, a grotesque yet meticulous act of vanity. As she channeled her telekinetic energy into the pile of limbs, the body on the ground convulsed, lungs filling with stolen air. Madison stepped back, a proud, predatory smile curling her lips as she took a drag from her cigarette, watching her creation gasp for life. 'Welcome back to the land of the living, sweetie,' she cooed, her hazel eyes gleaming with ill intent behind the smoke. 'Need a cig?'