Chapter twenty-six
Gotcha, Angel
The voice of the old man echoed in Penelope’s mind, sharper than ever: "Rember, rcy didn’t knock on our doors, so we’ll see what you’ve got."
Dread settled in her chest, thick and suffocating, as the fabric of her reality began to rip apart.
The chaos within her had transford into an unnerving calmness.
As the needle was finally retracted, her hands trembled, each pulse echoing the finality of her decisions.
She grabbed a nearby mirror, her own reflection staring back at her with hollow eyes, a stranger in her own skin. Her breath caught in her throat, thick with disbelief, as she beheld the tattoo etched into her flesh,
“Evil Scarlet—Head Official.”
The bold, blood-red lettering pulsed with a life of its own, a grim mark of her new identity.
Should've she fought harder against the darkness that crept in, or had she welcod it like an old friend?
How had she co to this point? Wasn’t she supposed to feel remorse? Should’ve she held on to her humanity?
Could it be that this was who she was always ant to be, lurking beneath layers of vulnerability?
Regret gnawed at her, yet beneath that gnawing discomfort lay an unbidden fondness—an attraction to the icy clarity that ca with her transformation.
Would she embrace this new identity, and in doing so, lose the essence of who she was?
Fear, dread, and the chilling notion that perhaps, just perhaps, this was her destiny.
Her mind went blank.
Soone was standing in the mists, and her cold laughter echoed through the cave…
A heartbroken scream erupted in the silence, making all of them jump in horror.
"Veronica—" gaped Elizabeth, clutching her chest.
Datura, the new counselor, was advancing on the three of them. She was dragging Veronica with her, who had her hands tied up behind her back and her mouth gagged.
"Thank you for getting rid of the giantess for ." She smirked.
"Release her!" demanded Elizabeth, raising her frost dagger to shoulder high.
But Datura was too quick for her; with a predatory grace, she snatched a gleaming knife from the dirt, its blade glinting ominously under the dim light as she pressed it nacingly to Veronica's throat.
“Hand over the Sagacity Sapphire,” she commanded, a malevolent smile twisting her lips, revealing her delight in the terror she had instigated.
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“NO! Go! Just leave and GO!” Veronica scread, her voice piercing the tension-filled air, a raw mixture of desperation and fear. She shook her head vigorously, strands of hair whipping around her as the knife’s edge dug into her delicate skin, cutting deep. Blood began to trickle down her neck, seeping into the fabric of her shirt in vivid red streaks, while tears poured down her cheeks—not from the physical pain or the looming threat, but from an overwhelming desire to shield her friends from harm.
Elizabeth's fury ignited, a fla of righteous anger surging through her. With no hesitation, she unsheathed her dagger, its blade reflecting her determination, and lunged toward Datura, stabbing fiercely at her.
Datura, however, rely chuckled with a sinister glee, her laughter a chilling sound that filled the air. Elizabeth watched, frozen in disbelief, as the dagger passed harmlessly through Datura’s ethereal form, as if she were nothing more than a mirage.
In seconds, the blade's passage left no trace of blood or injury; Datura appeared unscathed, her grin widening.
"You can't kill , my dear," she taunted, her voice dripping with malice and arrogance. Elizabeth, spurred on by a furious need to protect, snapped her fingers with fierce determination, summoning the winds to her command.
Dark, swirling clouds began to gather overhead, churning ominously, while shadows cloaked the ground beneath them.
Suddenly, rain began to fall, but it was no ordinary downpour; these drops were enormous, crashing down with the weight and ferocity of hailstones, each one aid directly at Datura.
A flash of hope ignited within Elizabeth as she observed the unmistakable panic washing over Datura's face. Just as one colossal hailstone soared through the air, Datura gasped and instinctively loosened her grip on Veronica, who had been desperately dodging the lethal onslaught.
In that mont, Elizabeth sensed Datura’s vulnerability—a fleeting glimpse of weakness hidden beneath the layers of her malevolence. Maybe, just maybe, her heart was the key to ending this nightmare.
Fueled by resolve, Elizabeth charged forward, dagger clenched tightly, honing in on Datura’s heart. But before she could close the distance, Datura snapped her fingers again, and an ornate sword materialized from the shadows, gleaming with deadly intent.
In an instant, she seized it, poised to retaliate.
As Elizabeth finally recognized the weapon in Datura's hand, it was already far too late.
Datura unleashed a fierce punch directly between Elizabeth's shoulders, knocking the wind from her lungs and sending her sprawling to the ground in a heap. The chaotic storm ceased at once, the silence heavy and oppressive as Datura smirked in triumph.
With a sinister glint in her eyes, Datura raised her sword high, aiming for Elizabeth’s vulnerable stomach. Anticipation twisted like a knife in Elizabeth’s gut as she closed her eyes, bracing for the deep, searing pain that would follow.
But instead of the anticipated agony, she felt a sudden, forceful shove propel her sideways, saving her from the mortal blow.
For what felt like an eternity, silence blanketed the scene.
When Elizabeth finally opened her eyes, a rush of horror flooded through her.
Veronica knelt beside her, Datura's sword stabbing cruelly through her chest, blood gushing from the wound like a torrential river. Her complexion had turned ghostly pale, a stark contrast against the vivid crimson, her eyes glazed and unfocused.
Yet, despite the dire straits she was in, when she caught Elizabeth's gaze, a faint smile flickered across her lips.
“Good job, Eliza!” she whispered, her voice weak but filled with warmth.
Panic rose within Elizabeth as she stumbled toward her friend, tears cascading down her cheeks. “Veronica, no! This isn’t worth it! You shouldn’t have to sacrifice yourself for !”
But Veronica shot back with unexpected ferocity, “Shut up!”
Suddenly, a sinister, echoing noise rang out overhead.
Datura was nowhere to be found; instead, a shimring phrase glimred ominously in the air, suspended like a ghostly apparition: “She and I shall bring death upon you all.”
That ominous declaration sent a chill down Elizabeth's spine—it was the very phrase inscribed in their living room, a line that echoed with unsettling familiarity.
A wave of dread washed over her as fragnts of earlier conversations flitted through her mind, recollections of Datura's frantic attempts to expel her from the college. The threats, the deception—each piece fell into place.
Astral had intervened, rescuing her from the edge of expulsion, but who could have orchestrated such a malevolent plan from the shadows?
The na Astral Soulblender echoed ominously in her thoughts, a figure her mother had ntioned in quiet, fearful tones, rumored to be captured on a ship above the churning waves.
Wait, could it be—no, not Victoria, not Victoria Vincent.
There must be sothing hidden behind the seeming chaos.
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