Macduff stuck his dagger out as he flung himself backwards. His back slammed against the wall, his arm straight. Pounding within his chest, his heart felt ready to burst. Sweat had sprung in his skin, and began to soak his nightshirt. Though he gasped for air, he began to prepare himself to launch at the dark beings in the room. He saw an extremely vague silhouette twist, and a lit candle came into sight. The three beings were identifiable; three of the most grotesques faces he had ever seen. Macduff was in the midst of launching himself when he saw these beings had similarities to women. He relaxed his arm, though his knuckles were white where he gripped the dagger. The women giggled. "Who-" he started. "Oh, oh! The Thane of Fife, with a knife!" …show more content…
"Perhaps he realized his power, and thought of more to devour!" "The King would choose a man of great respect and honor to be a thane!" Macduff yelled. "Perhaps so, but his wife, though?" the woman giggled. "A wife, a wife, she must have given her thane the knife!" "No woman would-" Macduff said, until the stares of the women silenced him. "A woman so corrupt, and with power so abrupt?" one of the woman looked at another. "It fits, it fits, maybe she gave him the wits!" the third cackled. "Why would a thane's wife do-" he questioned, but silenced himself as he thought. "Yes, yes! You can guess!" one of the women told Macduff. "And now that you may think, who do you now think of the murder's stink?" "About the death he may have been sad, but certainly now, he'd be glad!" Macduff stood in his place, nearly dumbfounded. He glanced up and the prancing women, trying to think of their soundness. While he certainly thought of Macbeth, and his actions for the past few days, he was more unsure he could trust these women. "While you ponder, we will go yonder!" the women said. They swiftly stood in a line, and briskly walked towards the cellar, taking the smell of beer and their sounds with