CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
44
Morwenna
Days. Bleak, unending days. That’s what it feels like. Trapped here, like a caged animal, waiting for the moment I can wake up. Waiting to tell Mom everything’s okay, that I’m alive. Not...yet dead, at least.
These suffocating days stretch on, each one an eternity.
The echo of Victoria’s words hangs heavy in this darkness: “Revenge. Sweet, bloody revenge.” It chills me to the bone.
A shiver crawls up my spine. My body. What’s become of it in the land of the living? Has its breathing stilled, leaving me adrift in this purgatory?
If that’s true, then a horrifying realization dawns. This… this suffocating darkness wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be here. I’ll be Dead. Gone. Does that mean Victoria has already swapped souls with me?
No. Not likely.
I still recall Elara mentioning a soul-shifting ritual, a failed attempt by Victoria on her own mother. It requires a willing vessel, my body. But there’s no way she could have performed it without a ceremony, some arcane ritualistic dance.
Hold on. Soul-shifting ritual. A spark ignites in my mind. Elara spoke of a similar attempt by Victoria before her demise. It was Elara’s mother who… who disrupted the spell. A wave of frustration washes over me. Useless.
But wait. The pieces are falling into place. This ritual, Victoria spoke of it – of me. It’s me she intends to use. She’s resurrecting that failed spell from a thousand years ago.
Clarity washes over me. Revenge. That’s her true motive. Not Draven. Not some noble cause. Revenge for her betrayal.
Now, I rewind. This spectral Victoria seeks vengeance on the world, right? On those who wronged her, especially her… sister. The one who thwarted her initial attempt – the one she desires revenge on most – must be… My breath catches. Elara’s mother.
Everything clicks into place. The amulet I wear, forged for a reason, perhaps... to shield me from Victoria’s full possession. This explains why I haven’t succumbed to her madness like Draven.
Elara’s mother. As far as I could recall, she was the only one present during Victoria’s time. My encounters with her were fleeting – the most vivid one being the night I disrupted the Brothers of Sin’s ritual.
Their panicked chants of “Emilia!” still echo in my memory. Emilia. That must be the ghost Victoria seeks revenge on. Does Elara even know about this? Surely, with her witchy intuition, she must sense something…
The suffocating darkness pressed in on me. I was perched precariously on a swirling vortex of obsidian clouds, somehow holding my weight. The sensation was akin to being trapped in a suffocating cage, yet a part of me resisted opening my eyes. Not out of fear, but a strange aversion to acknowledging my surroundings.
Even with my eyes shut, my senses were heightened.
Seated in a meditative pose, feeling a surge of unexpected power like a fledgling witch, I heard it – the unmistakable crackle of shattering glass.
In my world, cracking glass meant broken mirrors, and broken mirrors… well, that’s where Victoria resided.
The cracks intensified, a cacophony echoing through the darkness.
With each deafening snap, the presence grew, swirling closer. The acrid tang of burning embers filled my nostrils, a final confirmation of her nearness.
“How long do you intend to keep me here?” My voice broke the eerie silence. The answer, however, was unnecessary. “Are you afraid I’ll tell my mother? Afraid your grand plan will crumble if she learns of this unwanted entity attempting to hijack my body?”
A chilling echo filled the air as Victoria’s voice echoed, a sound so sharp it seemed to crack the very glass around us. “Humans,” she hissed, a serpent’s scorn lacing her words, “are simply not equipped to grasp the true intricacies of existence. Your mother, dear child, will never comprehend the gravity of the situation even if you were to confess it. The hijacking of your soul is a concept far beyond their mortal understanding.”
A desperate hope flickered in my chest. “But surely Mother would understand if I told her? A thousand-year-old spirit named Victoria who steals the essence of newborns, biding her time until the moment is ripe to claim their souls? That wouldn’t sound crazy to her, would it?” I pressed, my voice barely a whisper. After all, hadn’t Mom sought out witches herself to forge the very amulet that hung heavy around my neck? Surely this wouldn’t send her scrambling for holy water.
Victoria scoffed, a harsh, dismissive sound. “Exposing me to your mother, or any human for that matter, will only brand you a lunatic. Don’t be surprised if they whisk you away to that dreadful asylum... or that holier-than-thou church, for an exorcism of your ‘possessed’ spirit.”
A flicker of defiance sparked within me. “But I am already possessed, aren’t you the one attempting that?”
“If you were truly possessed,” she countered, a hint of vulnerability cracking her icy facade, “you wouldn’t be... here.”
“So they’ll kill me?” I pressed, my voice trembling slightly.
“My own people,” she began, a tremor in her voice betraying a well of ancient sorrow, “met a similar fate. They perceived the knowledge I offered as some form of demonic possession. A vampire, bless his fangs, revealed a path to truth, freely given. And how did I repay his kindness? By seeking to alleviate the suffering of my people, ravaged by a relentless plague.”
Victoria’s narrative painted a stark picture, and a question bloomed in my mind. Who was this vampire? Draven, or perhaps Xul?
Her voice dipped, tinged with a deep-seated pain that resonated within me. “Those villagers, they were so enthralled by their priest’s pronouncements. He spewed accusations, labeling the sickness a punishment for sin, demanding repentance. I knew better. The culprit was a deadly insect infestation – in their water, their food, their very air. I longed to help them, to dispel the priest’s lies and offer a cure. Instead, they showered me with scorn, branding me a witch, a curse upon their village. My efforts to save them were met with nothing but... insults.”
Her voice grew strained, laced with a bitter sorrow. “Until…”
“They killed you. For offering help.” I added to her words in a low whisper.
“You see, Morwenna,” she hissed, a raw edge creeping into her voice. “We’re more alike than you think. You, branded a curse, and me, a demon. Together, that’s what makes you the perfect vessel for my reincarnation.”
“I wouldn’t be a ‘curse’ if you hadn’t chosen me as your... your freaking rebirth! I could have been normal, could have just been...” My voice trailed off, the weight of the lost possibility heavy on my tongue. “Normal,” I finally managed, the word a desperate whisper.
“The Fates chose you, Morwenna Petrova,” she countered. “A thousand years ago, I cast a spell to transfer my essence into a woman named Alice Du Lac. She was dying, and after being ostracized as a curse, I found solace in her. Alice promised me that if anything happened to her, I could take her body. But when it was my turn to die, Alice was already gone. Devastated, I attempted the transfer, but my sister intervened. My intent was to live for Draven and honor my promise to Alice, but the interruption fractured the spell. Perhaps it became a reincarnation spell instead… then, just darkness. My soul, adrift, trapped. I yearned to find Alice, but her soul was gone, devoured by… demons, I suppose. I failed her, our promise. Draven… lost me as well. And in that despair, my own soul was consumed by those same demons, those who prey on the lost, the ones with no purpose beyond death. Neither in hell nor in death, my true self vanished, leaving behind only… vengeance!” The last word erupted from her, laced with an anger that threatened to crack the very fabric of reality.
Victoria, this ghost. She was brutally honest. My eyes remained squeezed shut. Revenge. That’s all she craved. I knew it.
My voice, a brittle whisper, cracked as I fought to keep my eyes closed. “Is-Is your sister named Emilia?” The question tumbled out, fracturing a piece of the memory that had been buried deep within Victoria.
“Emilia,” she drawled, the name stretching like molasses on a cold day. “How easily one forgets the face, the name, of the one who betrayed them.”
“She was only trying to protect you,” I stammered, launching into a defense I knew was likely futile. “She stopped you from undergoing the Soul Switch ritual. It wasn’t her fault you...”
But my words were drowned out by Victoria’s booming voice, a spectral bellow that echoed through the swirling darkness. “You have no idea, Morwenna Petrova,” she roared. “Because of her, I died. Because of her, I was branded a demon in the eyes of everyone I knew. Because of her jealousy, a festering wound, she stole everything I held dear. Because of her, my people drove me away. Because of her, I am a stranger to myself. And because of her, I will extinguish the last flicker of her bloodline, the one she desperately hides with pathetic cloaking spells.”
When she said this, my eyelids flew open. Elara. She was her target.
“Elara hasn’t done anything wrong,” I protested, my voice rising in defense. Somehow, Emilia, Elara’s mother, must have wronged this spectral entity, and now Victoria’s vengeance threatened to consume the innocent.
My defense elicited a chilling laugh, a sound that swirled around me like spectral dust.
I took stock of my surroundings, finding myself at the center of a strange, inky void.
Blood-red clouds swirled overhead, casting an eerie glow on the infinite darkness. Was there even a ground beneath my feet?
A desperate glance downward revealed a shimmering reflection, a mirror image of myself staring back. But this reflection wasn’t solid; it shimmered like a vast pool of water, its surface rippling at my touch.
Everywhere I looked, a distorted image of myself reflected back.
Through this watery mirror, I witnessed fragments of my past swirling in the depths. Scenes from my childhood flickered into view – the sting of bullying, the suffocating whispers and gossip that followed me like a constant shadow. It was a relentless loop, playing out in both my mind and this spectral reflection. The intensity was overwhelming, a desperate plea for the torment to end.
A sardonic chuckle escaped Victoria’s spectral form, a chilling counterpoint to the gravity of her words. “Elarabeth Vance,” she spat out, the name laced with malicious glee, “Emilia’s precious and ever-sheltered daughter. The sole survivor of that brood of twelve. The one who’ll witness the exquisite torment I shall inflict upon her, a torment that will drive her to the brink of self-destruction. Just like her sisters.”
My jaw slackened in disbelief. Elara, with her full name a secret I never knew, had sisters? Sisters Victoria delighted in torturing? And Elara, shielded by an unseen spell, remained blissfully unaware.
“You… you killed Elara’s sisters?” The words echoed hollowly from my lips. So Elara wasn’t untouched by tragedy. The weight of loss, a burden heavier than any crown, pressed upon her shoulders. Yet, a chilling truth had been revealed by this ghost.
“Killed?” Victoria scoffed. “It was mere manipulation, child. All it takes is a nudge, a subtle warping of the mind…” My gaze drifted to the water’s surface, a mirror reflecting a distorted reality. “The machinations of thought,” she continued, her voice a chilling whisper. “Pressure, the force, the nature of the mind.” A shiver ran down my spine as she spoke. The water rippled, the reflection contorting in a horrific display. “A mere twist of the mental blade, a revelation of their true nature, their inherent darkness… and then, boom. They crumble.” Her voice hardened, a fist clenching within the spectral form. “They fall, each and every one. Soon to be crushed in my grasp.” To me, her words echoed a macabre death knell.
“And Elarabeth Vance…” Victoria’s voice tightened, a fist clenching in her translucent hand. “She. Will. Fall.”
A gasp tore from my throat. With each word, a spiderweb of cracks seemed to ripple outward from Victoria’s form, a chilling reminder of her malevolent power. Then it faded into the... unknown. Weird.
Rising from the dark cloud, I stumbled to my feet.
Barefoot, I sank into the water’s embrace.
The sensation – a bizarre blend of scalding heat and frigid cold – sent a jolt through me.
But with each step across the liquid surface, a sense of calm washed over me.
Days spent trapped in this purgatory, a realm beyond the reach of maps and compasses, had honed my senses, awakened a dormant connection to the world around me.
And now, with Victoria’s words echoing in my ears, a dreadful clarity washed over me. It all made sense – the torment, the whispers in the wind, the endless dance on water.
“After Elara falls,” I rasped, my voice barely a whisper against the crackling electricity, “what then? Does your thirst for vengeance bleed out once your enemy lies vanquished? Or will you unleash chaos upon the world, purging it of every living soul?”
Inhaling a shaky breath, I expelled it forcefully, my voice gaining strength. “Will you... will you continue to torment Draven from beyond the veil?”
A voice, brittle and cold as shattered glass, reverberated from the shadows. “Everything.”
I waded through the ethereal water, drawn to the lone mirror that crackled with an ominous energy, a silent guardian against trespass.
Unlike the first time I’d dreamt of Victoria, where a touch dispelled the electricity, this one pulsed with a malevolent intensity.
Yet, curiosity and a sliver of defiance propelled me forward.
Each step felt like an eternity, traversing a world unending beneath a sky bled crimson.
Finally, I reached the mirror, and there she stood, a spectral echo of the woman who haunted my dreams.
“I know who you are now,” I declared, coming to a halt. “You are a creature of reflection, bound to mirrors, cracks, and shards of glass. They cling to you like a shroud, revealing and concealing in equal measure. You observe the world through this warped lens, understanding appearances yet remaining unseen, communicating through fractured glass, haunting your next victim through their own reflection.”
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I pieced together the fragments of truth. “For a millennium, you have wandered this desolate realm, searching for a reincarnation – a chance to be reborn. You claim the soul-eating demons devoured your essence, the true Victoria’s soul. In my visions, she was kind, a stark contrast to the vengeance-fueled entity you have become. Your thirst for blood is a twisted reflection of a world transformed by the passage of time.”
A pause, heavy with unspoken understanding. “I understand your fury, your desperate grasp for vengeance. But I see through your charade. The true purpose of your return is not just revenge, but... chaos.”
As if summoned by my words, Victoria stepped out of the mirror, a chilling smile playing on her spectral lips.
It was a smile that could curdle the blood of even the most hardened warrior.
To be honest, I wasn’t brave, not in the traditional sense.
Bravery, in this situation, was a mask for fear. True strength lay in acknowledging the terror, yet pressing forward nonetheless.
The churning water lapped at my toes, a stark contrast to the unnatural stillness that encased the figure across from me.
She’d drifted to the periphery, the rightmost edge of the spectral plane.
I remained rooted to the left, a mere whisper of electrical energy separating us.
I didn’t need to cross that threshold. I knew, with a chilling certainty, who she truly was.
“You’re not Victoria,” I stated, my voice firm. “You possess her memories, a mere echo of the woman she once was. But you are not her essence. You spoke of soul-eating demons, claiming they devoured your very being. Yet, you never completed the story. It wasn’t they who consumed your soul, but you yourself. In succumbing to their hunger, you became corrupted, twisted by their dark influence. That’s why you crave blood, why vengeance consumes you. You are a husk, an impostor wearing Victoria’s skin.”
A tremor ran through me, the source unclear. “You’re an evil spirit of those corrupted souls.”
A wry smile touched my lips. There’s something you should know about me – I’m a scholar of the arcane. Demons, witches, and the undead – their secrets fill countless pages I’ve devoured. Once, within the dusty confines of Chimera City’s ancient library, I devoured a six-thousand-and-ninety-page tome in its entirety, six times over.
It spoke of vengeful spirits, tethered to the mortal realm by unfinished lives or a thirst for retribution. Victoria, in this corrupted form, is no different. Her true spirit is lost, replaced by a hunger for revenge.
These entities often masquerade in their original shell, a cruel illusion designed to manipulate. They prey on the dreams of those they torment, weaving a tapestry of false memories to lure them closer. Draven, no doubt, suffers from such torment, and those who held Victoria dear will likely walk similar paths. Truly, knowledge is a potent weapon, wouldn’t you all agree?
A cold chuckle escaped Victoria’s lips, vibrating through me like a low tremor. It held a darkness that used to terrify me, but now, it’s a dull ember compared to the inferno bubbling within me.
“You are a clever one, Morwenna Petrova,” she conceded, a hint of grudging respect lacing her voice. “Never did I anticipate you unraveling my facade.”
A wry smile curved my lips. “Sharp wit runs in my blood, Victoria. That, and an uncanny knack for staying two steps ahead, even of a...ghost.” My voice held a steely edge.
Victoria’s response was a chilling cascade of laughter, a macabre melody where her original voice mingled with a deeper, darker undercurrent.
It was as if a million souls, devoured and damned, echoed within her.
This chilling possession by a legion of demons was a stark reminder – evil entities often wore masks of vulnerability, a deceptive ploy to lure unsuspecting souls into their clutches.
“You truly believe you can vanquish me, Morwenna?” The question dripped with disdain, punctuated by another chilling laugh. “Do you possess the power, the audacity, to thwart my will?”
I met her gaze unflinchingly. “Perhaps not,” I conceded, a steely glint in my eyes. “They all underestimate me, a fact I’ve grown accustomed to. But remember, you are a spectral entity, a parasite of the living, should know better that I, Morwenna Petrova, will always be…” I paused dramatically, my gaze flickering to my target – the ornate mirror floating behind Victoria. “Several steps ahead.”
With a practiced flick of my wrist, I ripped the amulet from my neck, aiming with an unwavering focus.
The laws of physics seemed to bend to my will, not just in this realm that defied conventional logic, but everywhere. In a blur of motion, the amulet shattered the electrifying barrier surrounding the mirror.
A deafening crack echoed as a jagged fissure snaked across its surface, etching a permanent scar onto Victoria’s surprised visage reflected within.
“No. No!” the ghost cried out, her voice filled with the echoes of a thousand souls. The mirror, that once impenetrable barrier, began to spiderweb with cracks, the defiance of its polished surface shattering with a sickening groan.
“What have you done?” she wailed, her spectral hand reaching out, as her fingers began to trace the fractured lines of the mirror until the shards broke apart.
“Nooo!” she screamed, and suddenly, the ground began to shake as if it could crumble beneath us.
The shards flew into the air, and then I saw it—Victoria’s luring form transformed into a terrifying black demon, just like I’d read about in books. The mirrors revealed her true appearance.
Each shard represented a piece of Victoria, her body breaking apart as the the monstrous entity that took its place was a horrific amalgamation of flesh and fury.
Towering and grotesque, its body was a canvas of crimson and obsidian, a sinuous tail lashing behind.
Fiery red eyes burned within a demonic visage, yet a semblance of Victoria’s beauty lingered in the sharp cheekbones and the cascading white hair that framed the monstrous visage.
Her voice, now a guttural growl, seemed to carry the screams of a thousand damned souls.
I tried to steady myself as the very ground beneath my feet began to ripple, the once placid pool of water reflecting the chaos above.
Cracks snaked across its surface, mirroring the destruction of the mirrors.
Before I could react, the water geysered upwards, defying gravity with a chilling unnaturalness.
Each droplet transformed into a pulsating bubble, their diaphanous walls displaying glimpses of a thousand different realities, a kaleidoscope of fractured timelines.
Was this a glimpse into Victoria’s fractured psyche, or a reflection of my own terror?
My stomach lurched as the water beneath my feet vanished.
Driven by an instinctual urge, I sprinted forward, fueled by a desperate need to escape.
All I could hear were cracks, the sound of everything breaking.
Where’s the way out? Where’s the way out? I repeated the frantic mantra, looking everywhere, and then I saw it—there, a portal.
The portal glowed with an otherworldly light, swirling with hues of blue and violet. It was a shimmering oval, suspended in mid-air, with tendrils of light reaching out like beckoning fingers. The edges of the portal pulsed, creating a mesmerizing, almost hypnotic effect. It looked like a gateway to another realm, a chance for escape.
Doubt gnawed at me – could it be a trap? But the guttural roar behind me, the very sound of the demoness in pursuit, drowned out any hesitation.
I was on the verge of something, so close that I could almost taste it.
In the distance, I could hear the sound of my mother’s voice calling out to me, “Morwenna!” It was as if her words were directed at someone else, uttering with relief, “She’s breathing! She’s breathing!”
Wait. Breathing? Did that mean... I was dead? No time to dwell. Whoever Mom was talking to, they’d created this escape hatch, a way to yank me back from the brink. Light flooded my vision, blindingly bright. I’d been so close to succumbing. So close.
Victoria’s voice echoed behind me, a manic laughter that sent shivers down my spine.
But I pushed myself harder, running forward, my fingertips just inches away from touching the portal—the gateway to my freedom.
Suddenly, a jolt coursed through me, thick and electrifying, causing an involuntary moan to escape my lips.
My heart felt as though it would seize, yet I persisted, driven by an unyielding determination.
With a final surge, I crossed the threshold and entered the portal.
A bone-chilling cold gripped me, unlike anything I had ever experienced before. It penetrated me to the core, freezing my very soul. Ahh... it was her. This sensation, it was her presence within me.
I found home, yes. Back in the land of the living. But this coldness coiling around me felt more sinister than salvation. Like a slow, agonizing death knell.
A shuddering gasp escaped my lips.
Each ragged breath felt like a borrowed moment, a stolen heartbeat.
This icy tendril threatened to steal them all leaving me unsure of how much longer I have left...