Eye of Newt
The cauldron sat in the middle of the room and hissed as the green liquid within bubbled and spat. The stench emanating from the vile brew was nauseating, but the witch cared not.
“Leg of lizard. Tail of salamander. African bat guano.”
The mixture sizzled with each ingredient.
“Dash of pixie. Cloven hoof. Heart of newborn.”
She read from ancient, cracked page. Her arm ached from stirring the thickening glop.
The final ingredient – eye of newt. This she added, anticipating completion. Instead, the liquid crystallized, ruined. She cursed quietly and then sighed in resignation.
“Oh, well. I guess I shall have to start again.” The witch whirled to face the young man that she had tied to a chair behind her. His head lolled to one side, revealing a red socket where his left eye used to be. “I am sorry, Newton, dear. I confess I was careless with your gift.” She raised a short, curved dagger and stepped toward him. “I’m afraid that now I have need of your other eye.”