Chapter eighteen
Tragedy hits
"Elizabeth? Where are you? Are you alright?" The frantic voices reverberated through the dimly lit corridor, piercing the heavy silence that enveloped her like a thick fog.
The familiar echoes jolted Elizabeth from her daydreams, which had guarded her sanity in this wretched place. As she glanced through the grimy bars of her prison, disbelief washed over her. Who would be brave—or foolish—enough to venture into this forsaken realm to rescue her and her friend, Victoria?
She leaned against the cold, unyielding metal, her fingers brushing against the rusty iron that held them captive.
Each droplet of water that dripped monotonously from the ceiling added to her mounting despair, creating a symphony of isolation that echoed endlessly around her.
Desperation clawed at her heart, urging her to blink back the tears threatening to spill. Struggling with her emotions, she pressed her palms hard against the bars, trying to remain stoic for her friends. But the unbearable confinement was pushing her to her breaking point—quiet desperation gnawed at her, each drop resonating like a countdown to madness.
"Elizabeth? Where are you?" The voices crescendoed, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of hurried footsteps racing down the corridor.
A wave of relief washed over her as she sank to the damp heap of straw in the corner, wrapping her arms around herself like a fragile shield, her face buried in her lap as if the world could simply vanish.
"Oh, thank the heavens, there you are!" Penelope’s voice burst forth, tinged with urgency and relief as she dashed toward Elizabeth, closely followed by Percy. Elizabeth blinked, her heart fluttering with incredulity. Could it truly be? Was Veronica here to rescue her as well?
"You’re such a reckless idiot!" Veronica exclaimed, her expression a mix of exasperation and relief as she rushed to Elizabeth’s side, her energy palpable.
A flicker of guilt coursed through Elizabeth. "You’re not upset with me for being so pretentious at the ball, are you?" she asked hesitantly, anxiety tightening around her chest.
"You’re far too young to understand the weight of this fight," Veronica whispered, wiping the sweat from her brow, her voice a gentle reprimand layered with affection.
Curiosity piqued despite her fear. "How on earth did you find this dreadful place?" Elizabeth inquired, her eyes wide with wonder amidst the chaos.
"This is our third escapade, the treacherous kingdom of death," Percy replied, a wry smile breaking through his worry as he brandished the frost dagger, the light reflecting off its icy surface. With deft precision, he unlocked the door.
"Of course, that's why I'm here," Veronica chimed in sarcastically, though a hidden smile broke through her stern facade. "Otherwise, I wouldn't even bother lifting a finger to get you both out of here."
With an ear-splitting click, Percy turned the dagger, causing the iron bars to shimmer and shimmer, gradually thinning and shrinking until they dissolved into vapor before their eyes.
The oppressive prison suddenly felt less tangible, more like a fading nightmare. In a rush of hope, Elizabeth collapsed into Percy’s supporting arm while Veronica hurried to assist Victoria, pulling her gently from the confines of her cell.
"Quickly, we must leave!" Penelope urged, her voice low yet insistent, conjuring forth a door from thin air. She flung it open, unleashing a cascade of radiant light that sliced through the shadows.
"Quickly, we must go!" Penelope urged, creating a shimmering door in the air with her hands. She swung it open, sending a brilliant beam of light pouring into the dim chamber.
”What brings you two here, being so bothersome?" Penelope whispered softly as she laid Victoria down on the cool grass in a nearby arena, carefully positioning her away from any danger.
Veronica knelt down, her fingers probing gently at Victoria’s chest. A painful gasp escaped Victoria’s lips.
"Several ribs are broken," she assessed crisply, her tone betraying no hint of panic. Before anyone could react, she snapped her fingers, and a radiant, glowing orb materialized above Victoria’s chest, illuminating their surroundings with its radiant glow.
With a swift gesture, Veronica directed the orb downward, and Victoria gasped again—not from pain, but from the enchantment enveloping her, the tingling warmth soothing her injuries.
"You see? It’s curable, just as I said," Veronica murmured, a satisfied smile gracing her lips as she watched Victoria's condition improve.
But the serene moment shattered like glass when a chilling sound sliced through the air, a whistling that froze Elizabeth’s blood.
Instinctively, she looked up.
What she saw sent a wave of dread crashing over her. Horror gripped her heart as a dark, foreboding cloud raced toward them, moving with unnatural speed and menace.
An icy shiver spiraled down her spine, and she knew, deep down, that this was no ordinary cloud. From the heart of the darkness, a silver knife materialized, hurtling toward her with lethal precision.
Elizabeth flinched, frozen in place, her feet seemingly glued to the ground by sheer dread, paralyzed by the encroaching malevolence.
Then, through the swirling mist emerged a figure cloaked in darkness—Morris. He wore a sinister smirk, his once-pristine silver hair now flailed wildly around him. Blood trickled from his lips, but he didn't seem fazed as he aimed directly for Veronica, knife glinting alarmingly in the dim light.
Veronica’s eyes widened, shock mingling with fear as she took a step back, searching frantically through her pockets for her own weapon.
But by the time she locked eyes with Morris again, it was far too late.
Morris lunged forward, effortlessly twirling like a wraith, his silver braid rippling behind him as he leaped into the air. A sudden gust erupted from his palms, lifting Veronica’s sword into the air, shattering it into jagged pieces that fell to the ground near his feet with a finality that echoed their hopelessness.
Horror washed over Elizabeth as she witnessed Morris’s calculated cruelty. Morris seized Veronica by the collar, forcefully yanking her closer, twisting her head back cruelly.
"What the hell are you doing?" Penelope shrieked, her voice thick with outrage as her jaw tightened in disbelief.
Morris didn’t reply, his focus narrowed on Veronica as he brandished the knife, pressing its glinting blade against her throat.
"Stop! She’s your girlfriend! How can you do this to her?" screamed Elizabeth, launching herself forward in a reckless attempt to intervene.
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With merciless force, Morris shoved Elizabeth back, Morris shoved Elizabeth roughly back, sending her sprawling onto the ground, the air knocked from her lungs.
Despite the raging fury building within her, she noticed, in that split second of madness, the distress pooling in Morris’s eyes, glimmering with unshed tears.
Morris glared at them, his voice a frigid whisper as he directed his wrath at Veronica. "I’ve warned you before, never attempt to save them. But now, you will pay the price for your defiance with your own life." Veronica's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, anger and despair battling within her, yet she held herself together, refusing to let them spill over. She maintained an air of toughness, but deep down, beneath her fierce exterior, the crushing weight of despair threatened to shatter her very spirit.
Elizabeth’s heart sank as a wave of profound pity washed over her for Veronica. In a world filled with betrayal, where friends turned into foes, she realized that Veronica stood alone, abandoned by everyone she had once trusted.
Each encounter had felt like another thundering blow, a calculated effort to shatter her spirit, and yet here she was, fighting to survive against the odds.
As Elizabeth contemplated the depths of Veronica’s soul, her heart ached at thought of Veronica's true self, a poignant contrast to the hard facade she presented.
Beneath the rough exterior lay a woman fraught with vulnerability, yearning for the kind of support that was cruelly absent in her life.
Despite such, Veronica had fashioned herself a shield of toughness, a callous facade to guard against a world that could be so ruthless.
Elizabeth couldn’t begin to imagine the infinite moments Veronica had endured, isolated in a sea of mockery and disdain, with nothing but her unfathomable sorrow for company.
“No, that’s not worthwhile!” yelled Elizabeth, her voice resonating with urgency, echoing the sentiments of the others who gathered in that tense moment.
But Morris remained unfazed by their pleas, a smirk playing on his lips as he disregarded their cries. Suddenly, chaos erupted.
Time seemed to slow as the knife gleamed under the dim light, its bloodied blade a sinister reminder of past horrors.
Morris pressed it cruelly against Veronica’s throat, the pressure escalating as his hands shook uncontrollably, eyes clinched shut as if preparing for the abyss.
In a sickening stroke, he inflicted a deep cut, a final act of pure malevolence as he severed the delicate thread of life that bound Veronica to this world…
As he melted away into the swirling mist, laughter reverberating ominously in the silence, Elizabeth’s heart raced.
She rushed forward, panic consuming her as Veronica crumpled to the cold ground like a marionette with severed strings, a crimson waterfall cascading down her neck in a gruesome arc, painting the earth below in shades of despair.
“No, Veronica!” Elizabeth’s voice broke, raw and desperate, as she knelt beside her friend’s fragile form, her hands trembling violently, desperate to hold onto the remnants of life still flickering within her friend.
Grasping hold of Veronica’s hand, she clung to it as if her frantic grip could somehow anchor her to life, to stave off the encroaching darkness.
“Elizabeth, stay safe—save our sanctuary—don’t mourn me—save the victims—remember—the task—you can do it—” Veronica’s voice was a fragile whisper, strained and weak, yet laced with urgency.
Despite a thin trickle of blood slipped from the corner of her mouth, she mustered a serene smile, her final expression radiating warmth amidst the chaos. “For I am your true sister.”
With a gentleness that belied her pain, Veronica's eyelids fluttered closed, her head hit the ground in a sickening thud, her arms dangled lifelessly beside her, her breath escaping like a fading echo, leaving Elizabeth in the grips of silence as the world around her dimmed into an endless void.
Staring down at her friend’s still form, Elizabeth felt as if the ground beneath her had vanished, leaving her to hover in a sea of unending sorrow. Tears streamed unbidden down her cheeks, splattering softly onto the ground, each droplet mourning the loss of a cherished bond.
Her heart felt as if it had been wrenched from her chest, enveloped in an all-consuming darkness, a turmoil of emotions crashing within her. For a fleeting heartbeat, hope had flickered in the shadows; then, in the next agonizing instant, she was plunged into the depths of despair.
Grief coursed through her like a violent storm, and she shuddered, the choking sensation of loss twisting her heart with the cruel hands of betrayal, coldheartedness, and mercilessness, leaving her gasping for solace amidst the shattering reality.
The sun disappeared behind the blanketing, dark clouds, and heavy raindrops splashed on her face, blending with the tears streaming down her cheek.
Elizabeth tilted her head upwards and looked up sorrowfully. Her throat was stuck with grief, and her eyes shone with tears.
Her jaws tightened, her eyelids reddened by sorrow.
"Why? Why do those things keep happening to me? What have I done to deserve this?" her shrill voice echoed throughout the rain, yet soon drowned out by the thunder and lightning.
But silence engulfed her, thick and suffocating, as everyone turned a blind eye to her anguish.
Elizabeth’s vision blurred, clouded by a surge of fury bubbling up from the depths of her chest. It was a rage she could hardly contain. With every ounce of will, she fought herself to stand tall, to steady herself, to walk past Veronica's lifeless form without faltering, though every instinct screamed at her to flee.
Her sister—her true sister—who had pulled her from the brink more than once, now lay cold and motionless as a stone, snatched away by the treachery of a coward.
The reality of losing Veronica hit Elizabeth like a fist to the gut, struck her like a thunderclap, and she vowed, right then and there, that her sister's sacrifice would not be in vain, just as the oracle had foretold.
As if a shadow had passed over the sun, a wave of emptiness washed over her, threatening to swallow her whole, such heavy and unrelenting that it was hard for her to breathe. How could Morris so callously end Veronica’s life?
He had no idea what dark storm was brewing in the depths of her heart. Vengeance—her fiercest ally—was awakening. With a deep, shuddering breath, Elizabeth squared her shoulders and steadied herself.
Each step felt laborious, as if she were tugging burdened chains behind her, the weight of despair dragging at her heels, as if trudging through molasses, drawn down by melancholy, while every nerves of her crackled like dry leaves in a scorching fire. Though she felt as if her inside was twisted into a tight knot, she forced herself to keep walking.
She knew, deep down, that she won’t bail Veronica’s trust—she had to press on; she couldn't afford to crumble—she had to show them what she had got.
Suddenly, slicing through the oppressive stillness of the arena like a scythe, a high-pitched, chilling laughter pierced the air. It was a cruel sound, sharp as glass, reverberating off the clearing with a mocking resonance that made Elizabeth's ears ache, a taunt that sent a shiver running down Elizabeth’s spine and igniting a fierce blaze of determination coursing deep within her.
"De Angelo was such an idiot, don't you agree? She was so pathetic—" the voice swirled in Elizabeth's head, filled with the same bitterness that had made him turn his back toward his friends.
Though it didn’t sound like Morris’s voice, Elizabeth didn’t care.
"Shut up!" Elizabeth screamed. She felt something surging inside her head. And suddenly, Elizabeth found something struggling out from her back.
A tumultuous churn broke out, an unsettling force that threatened to pull her under—as if an invisible current was dragging her into an inky abyss. The atmosphere around her rapidly shifted, turning bone-chillingly cold.
Each breath she drew felt like inhaling shards of glass, freezing her insides into brittle icicles that threatened to shatter at any moment.
Then, in a fleeting moment, the numbing cold began to dissipate, replaced by a ferocious heat that ignited from her spine. Excruciating struck her, it coursed through her body like wildfire, the pain searing and intense, as though her very nerves were ablaze, burning with an intensity that made her skin prick with heat. The atmosphere thickened, carrying the metallic scent of blood that hung heavily in the air.
A swelling tide of rage and despair crashed over her, pushing her to unleash a raw, heart-wrenching shriek that shattered the stillness of the night. As she turned in disbelief, her wide eyes beheld an awe-inspiring sight: two colossal black eagle wings burst froth from her back, unfurling majestically on both sides, each feather was rich and dark, shimmering like polished obsidian, and they glistened in the rain, reflecting kaleidoscopic raindrops that danced across the ground.
Ethereal green mist curled around the wings, swirling like smoke, wrapping every plume in an enchanting embrace that seemed to pulse with life.
In that breathtaking moment, a surge of invulnerability ignited within her, a tenacity she had never known simmering to the surface. She cast her gaze downward and gasped as flames burst forth from her palms, flickering and crackling with a fierce luminosity. For the first time in her life, Elizabeth felt an extraordinary strength welling up within her, a fierce toughness that surged from the very depths of her heart.
Waves of control washed over her, clouded like a misty shroud. The exhilarating flames twirled in her palms, lingering through her fingertips, and sizzling in the darkness.
Suddenly,a shadow swept past her in a blur, jolting her tense senses. Instinctively, Elizabeth turned on her heels, her heart racing as she faced Datura. The woman stood within the dim light, her dark attire flowing around her like tendrils of smoke, every edge sharp and unyielding. Datura’s eyes sparkled with a cruel, calculating glint, as her mouth drawn down to an evil curve. The stage was set, tension thrumming between them as thunder boomed above.
"Come on, pathetic. How's the feeling to watch your little friend die?"
Datura wanted her to break.
But Elizabeth was going to fight back without fear.
She was gonna get Morris first, to show him what she had got.
And she was going to win.