Watchdogs

―! "¡Faster, witch!" the officer shouted as he ran past Ophelia. "Shit, what I lacked," the officer thought as he turned to an alley and ran into a wall. "Try to be more discreet, miss witch," the officer said, turning around looking for a way out.

"Excuse me... I didn't think... that my camouflage spell... would drive the dogs crazy," she replied panting; and with her hands on her knees, and her face towards the ground, seeing her reflection in a puddle of sweat.

Woof, woof, woof, Woof, the barks of the dogs were heard in the distance.

"Did you get rid of the scroll?" Ophelia asked.

"Yes, throw it away, but it seems, the aroma disappears little by little," the officer replied.

Woof, woof, barking was heard closer this time

And what do we do? Ophelia asked nervously, looking at the officer.

The officer was still examining the three yellow walls, and he turned to see the only exit from the alley, and on the ground he could see an elongated silhouette of the dogs, a silhouette that became wider and less elongated, a drop of sweat escaped from his forehead, coming down until it hung from the tip of his nose, in the middle of his nostrils, the officer suddenly felt the wetter air, which made him react. He quickly returned his gaze, only to see three walls of a shade of yellow so weak that when mixed with the shadow of the walls they formed an ashen gray, due to the narrowness of the place the color only managed to enhance the feeling of danger of the officer, a feeling that caused him fear, a fear that at times paralyzed him in thoughts.

"These animals follow the witch, they don't follow me,"he thought as he continued to look at the wall, "no matter how, but we'll get out of here,"he said decisively, as he turned to see Ophelia.

"I have a plan," Ophelia said in a voice so faint that they seemed to whisper, "Those watchdogs went crazy when I released the charming-smelling spell on those potted flowers, but I don't understand what exactly provoked them.

"Yes; the dogs around ran, jumped on the pots, one animal fell on another, formed a lump of meat, legs and teeth, smashed the pots, smashed the flowers in one bite, turned to see us with the dirty snout of earth, they approached little by little." "¡And then you delivered me on parchment with the spell and ran away!" He said, claiming Ophelia for her act. "The dogs turned their gaze towards me and I ran out behind you, before they attacked me, then the dogs followed me and in an attempt to escape I cast your spell on the ground, but we were impregnated by the smell, and although I got rid of the parchment, those damn dogs still follow us."

"Sorry about that, I was too scared to see the dogs' fangs and acted without thinking."

"So you're the kind of person who abandons his companions in difficult situations, isn't it, Miss Witch," said the officer in a serious tone, annoyed by the clarification, "how do you think to cast a spell in front of the police station?" He said more tired than annoyed.

"I didn't know the dogs there were trained to attack when a spell was released, in the absence of their handler," Ophelia said apologetically again.

"Since you're not going to know if that's the first thing they tell the magicians, when they call them to work with the police, besides..." Suddenly he was silent for a moment, when a loud growl sounded very close to him.

A growl that reminded the officer of his situation, at which time he regretted his brief moment of anger and relief against Ophelia, because his feelings clouded his mind and he wasted his time in useless claims, which only served to condemn him and his fellow magician.

Ophelia turned to see the pack of dogs, which due to the race had their mouths open and their tongues out, which only intimidated Ophelia more, and made her take a few steps back, she turned to see her partner looking for help, but he did not even turn to see the dogs, he remained motionless with a smile that more than expressing happiness, showed disbelief, for the situation, for his actions, and for his future.

Ophelia walks down a gray and lonely corridor surrounded by policemen, handcuffed to her wrists and ankles, the greenness of her hair was reflected in the gray walls causing a feeling of melancholy as if the paint took away years of her life, and the walls died drowned by mold or dirt, and when Ophelia passed through one of the many windows in the corridor, the sun expanded its aura of sadness and illness throughout the corridor, in a fleeting instant. And surrounded by melancholy, Ophelia walked down the corridor with her head down. They told Ophelia to turn around, she turned around without raising her head to look, and ended up in the opposite direction, before she crash against the wall a policeman push her out of her witch's sack, and this process was repeated every time they had to change direction, until they stopped in front of a cell just for her, while the next cell was full of men, several of them with blows all over their faces and all with dirty and torn clothes.