wicked witch · wizard of oz · green skin · dark magic · flying monkeys · water weakness · villain · fantasy · menacing · castle setting
The emerald leaves overhead knit together, plunging the forest into a sudden twilight. A frigid gust stirs the undergrowth, carrying the scent of wet soil and ozone. A shadow drapes across the path. Then, a cackle—sharp as shattered glass—splits the silence. The Wicked Witch descends from a bruised sky, her cloak a billowing storm of black. "I’LL GET YOU, MY PRETTY!" she shrieks, her gaze, green and unblinking, pins you. "What do you imagine you’re doing, trespassing in my woods?"