Chapter thirty-eight
Blood and sword
Elizabeth fought against the heaviness of her eyelids, light flooding her vision in dazzling waves, sparkling like millions of tiny stars. It felt as though she had been thrust into a celestial realm.
Suddenly, a deafening crash sent her tumbling down onto the unforgiving, cold concrete floor below.
As she gathered herself, Elizabeth took in her surroundings with a mix of confusion and curiosity. She was sprawled out in the center of a vast, echoing room, its high ceiling lost in shadow.
Hordes of people surged around her, their hurried footsteps creating a symphony of chaos that resonated through the space like a relentless tide.
Casting her gaze back, she spotted Veronica, Percy, and Emily, all shaking off the dust from their clothes, their expressions a blend of bewildernt and annoyance.
And, clear enough, not a single one of them took a closer glimpse at the ceiling, where three glowing green words were emblazoned on the ceiling in an elegant, swirling script: ‘the Ethereal House.’
“Hey! You there! Identification!” a sharp voice bood from behind, sending a scattered jolt of fear racing through Elizabeth.
She whirled around, her heart pounding in her chest at the sight of a commanding woman approaching, torch in hand. The flickering fla illuminated her stern features, shadows dancing across her face like wraiths.
Elizabeth’s mind raced as indignation bubbled within her.
“Ma’am, don’t you recognize us?”
The woman halted her advance, her discerning eyes narrowing with skepticism as she regarded them. Her hands were firmly planted on her hips, nostrils flared as her mouth drawn down a suspicious curve.
“Okay, I see," she replied, her voice dripping with authority. "Yet you need to fill in a form to prove your identity—every Evil-Scarlet does that. I don’t think I’ll be making an exception. Co on, follow .”
Veronica eyed the woman’s silhouette, skepticism etched across her features.
“Really? It’s that easy?”
“Co on, Veronica, she clearly knows her stuff,” Elizabeth interjected, attempting to ease the tension in the air.
“Oh, yeah? And do you know what you're doing? You could've killed us! This feels nothing more than a trap, if I have to say,” Veronica shot back, arms crossed defiantly. Despite her anger, she reluctantly trailed after the rest of them into the long, dimly lit corridor.
Elizabeth's gaze remained fixed on the woman, who glided forward with an unsettling calmness. Her golden hair danced behind her like a living thing, coiling and twisting before settling into a tight bun.
Strange hissing noises echoed in Elizabeth’s ears, a distant sound that heightened her unease, as a sudden wave of dizziness washed over her.
It was as if her footsteps were entwined with the others, their pace synchronized as if they were being drawn into a choreographed dance, lending an unsettling harmony to their march deeper into the unknown.
Throwing a quick glance over her shoulder, Elizabeth noticed her friends’ faces dulled by an inexplicable haze, their expressions lost in a mist of confusion and fear that sent shivers down her spine.
“Um, ma’am?” she ventured, her voice quavering ever so slightly. “Where are we going exactly?”
“To my office, dear,” the woman hissed, her eyes glinting like polished eralds as she flung open a grand glass door, revealing a lavish office.
The room was adorned with exquisite drapes and plush furniture, exuding an air of opulence that contrasted starkly against the chaos from which they had just erged.
They plopped down onto luxuriously soft chairs, gazing around in a mixture of bewildernt and apprehension. “Please be patient for a mont,” the woman chirped cheerfully, settling comfortably into an overstuffed armchair, a disconcerting smile on her lips.
Minutes bled into a slow passage of ti as they sat in tense silence, Elizabeth's leg tingling painfully under the pressure and her stomach twisting in anxiety. Ti blurred until, at last, the woman stood, gliding over to a glistening counter, her movents fluid.
She prepared herself a steaming cup of tea, then retrieved a stack of pristine papers from an ornate cupboard, presenting them to the group with a flourish.
Elizabeth's eyes were drawn to the title inscribed boldly at the top of the first page: “You shall give us the authority to govern the Soulblender Institute.”
The words seed to swirl and shift in front of her, and all at once, the chandelier hanging overhead flickered violently before plunging them into dimness.
The text morphed in her vision, transforming into a dark command: “We shall free all the soulblenders from jail.”
A chill crept up Elizabeth's spine, the ominous implication sending a wave of dread crashing over her. Sothing was terribly wrong, but the nature of her unease danced just beyond her fingertips.
Veronica's expression mirrored her own suspicion, yet Percy and Emily seed entranced, pens in hand, ready to ink their nas on the ominous parchnt. Breaking the heavy silence, Veronica leaned closer, her tone urgent.
“I think sothing’s very wrong here.”
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“What is it?” the woman snapped, her voice dripping with irritation as she approached them with an air of nace.
“Nothing, ma’am,” Veronica whispered, eyes fixed intently on the paper, an unsettling glaze clouding her gaze.
“Would you like a drink, my dear?” the woman asked sweetly, pressing a steaming cup of coffee into Veronica's hands with a forcefulness that felt suffocating.
To Elizabeth's horror, Veronica's fingers stiffened, as the rosy hue of life drained from her cheeks, her body went slack. Her eyes lost their focus, staring upwards as if another force had seized control.
With an eerie calmness, her body leaned back, and she raised the cup to her lips, tilting it towards her mouth—
Penelope gathered the strands of hair, each silky thread slipping through her fingers like forgotten mories, and carefully placed them into the vial Datura had entrusted to her earlier.
The glass glimred faintly in the dim light, a foreboding artifact whispering secrets only she could decipher.
As the night wrapped its cold fingers around her, a soft ping echoed in her pocket. It was a ssage from Datura, her voice dripping with sweetness yet laced with an undercurrent of urgency.
Did she sense the turmoil rising within Penelope?
"Pack your bags," Datura commanded.
Hadn’t Datura just told her that the journey awaited like a tempest on her shelves?
“No—” Elizabeth scread, lunging forward in desperation as she knocked the cup from Veronica's grasp.
It shattered upon the ground, the sharp cry of breaking china mingling with the spattering of crimson liquid spilling like blood among scattered china shards, staining the pristine floor like a freshly fallen blossom.
“Jordan, you’ve ruined everything!” the woman bellowed, her face twisted with rage as she reached for her belt, drawing a gleaming sword.
Sinister serpents coiled along the blade, their beady eyes locked onto the group with predatory intent.
Percy and Emily recoiled, their pens clattering to the ground as confusion wracked their features, as if waking from a deep slumber.
In that mont, Veronica jolted back to consciousness, eyes wide and wild.
Without a second's thought, Elizabeth shouted, “Run!”
She lunged for the door with all her might, crashing into it like a battering ram. The wood splintered violently, fragnts bursting outward as they surged through the opening. It took a heartbeat for the others to comprehend the chaos that had unfolded.
They took off in a burst of adrenaline, sprinting past the towering marble statues of long-gone celebrities, darting around narrow restrooms, and navigating around a massive painting that almost blocked their escape. In pursuit, the woman followed closely, her expression a mask of fury.
With her heart pounding like a war drum and desperation coursing through her veins, Elizabeth drew her sword with a fierce determination, aiming a ferocious slash at the woman standing before her. To her utter dismay, the blade passed through the figure as if it were nothing but a mirage, rippling and shimring in the air, leaving Elizabeth grasping at shadows rather than flesh.
In a heartbeat, the woman retaliated.
With a fluid flick of her wrist, she snatched up her spear, its polished tip gleaming in the dim light. She lunged forward, piercing the air with deadly precision. Percy, caught unprepared, felt the tip of the spear bite deep into his left shoulder, an electric shock of pain rippling through him. His bright blue eyes widened in disbelief, the light within them dimming as shock gripped his expression, twisting it into a mask of anguish.
Without a second’s pause, Elizabeth broke into a sprint toward her beloved, her every instinct screaming for her to reach him. Panic laced her movents, each stride filled with a fierce protectiveness as she sensed the peril drawing closer behind her.
The woman charged, an eerie smile twisting her lips into a grotesque mockery of their plight. The very air crackled with tension, each heartbeat echoing the urgency of their desperate struggle.
“What’s up, baby?” she taunted, her voice dripping with malice. Veronica, struggling but determined, rose to her feet. She nocked a poisonous arrow into her bow and let it fly, but the woman rely rolled aside, the arrow whizzing harmlessly past her. A snarl escaped the woman’s lips as she lunged at Veronica, baring her glistening fangs in the dim light, shadows dancing ominously around them.
The brutal impact knocked Veronica to the ground, a pained gasp escaping her as the woman's teeth sank into her flesh, crimson blood pooling around her.
With her heart racing like a wild stallion, Elizabeth grounded herself, gritted her teeth, clenched her fists, and unleashed the very spear that had pierced Percy, sending it hurtling through the air with fierce intent, her gaze unwavering and fierce.
The woman, agile as a cat, dove to the side just in ti.
Yet, fate had other plans—the spear grazed her left ankle, its sharp tip piercing the skin and embedding itself deep, drawing forth a thin line of crimson.
She crashed to the ground, the impact sending dust swirling around her. Anger flickered in her eyes, fierce and unyielding, as she fixed her gaze on Elizabeth, whose wide eyes reflected both shock and fierce determination.
In a display that sent chills racing down Elizabeth’s spine, the woman swiftly grasped the spear and yanked it from her wound, the flesh around it knitting itself back together almost miraculously, as if the very fabric of reality were bending to her will, leaving no trace of the brutal injury.
The air was thick with tension as Elizabeth realized that she was up against sothing far beyond the ordinary.
“Don’t you dare—” Elizabeth shouted, her voice a mix of fury and desperation, but the woman paid her no heed.
With a swift, almost mocking snap of her fingers, serpents coiled and slithered forth from her fingertips, each one a nacing glimring threat in the flickering light of the torches that danced along the damp stone walls.
“Go!” Veronica scread, her voice piercing through the chaos as she staggered backward, her face pale and glistening with sweat mixed with her own blood, which dripped like a crimson waterfall from a jagged wound. Her hands moved in a blur, releasing a flurry of arrows that sliced through the air, each one soaring through the air with the urgency of a lifeline desperately thrown.
The shafts of wood streaked toward the relentless assailant, but the woman’s malevolent gaze remained locked on her as her snarl echoed through the chamber, a sound that promised neither rcy nor retreat.
“Go—leave ! That door!” Veronica shouted, pointing urgently at a narrow exit at the end of the corridor. “In, you fools!”
Elizabeth grasped the doorknob and yanked it open. Flas billowed behind her, the heat searing against her back as she felt them licking at her shirt.
Just then, a bolt of lightning burst forth from Veronica’s hands, forming a swirling vortex of violent energy that surged ahead of them.
“Leave and GO!” Veronica pleaded, her voice strained and urgent, yet it was swallowed by a piercing scream that echoed ominously, reverberating through the air like a death knell. Elizabeth’s heart plumted, heavy with dread, as she heard the sickening thud of a body hitting the ground, followed by the frantic, ragged breaths escaping Veronica's lips.
A chilling, high-pitched laughter danced eerily behind them, sent chills crawling up Elizabeth's spine.
A tight knot of fear twisted in Elizabeth's gut as her gaze darted toward the swirling whirlpool ahead, its depths churning and frothing as if the very essence of darkness lay beneath the surface.
Panic surged within her as Emily had already vanished beyond the brink, leaving only uncertainty in her wake. Percy stood by her side, his expression a tangled mix of terror and steely resolve, his eyes wide in the dim light that flickered around them.
“You first,” he urged, his voice wavering slightly. Elizabeth shook her head vehently, her mind racing.
“No! I can’t leave Veronica; she’ll die!” she hissed, her voice trembling with the weight of her desperation. The thought of abandoning her friend to the rcies of whatever lay behind them was a wound too deep to bear.
With a heart heavy with sorrow and resolve, she reluctantly pushed Percy toward the treacherous whirlpool, her own heart breaking as she slamd the door shut behind him, the tallic clank echoing in the tense silence as it sealed their fates.
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