Chapter thirty-nine
The Sauna Center
With a sense of dread fluttering in her stomach, Penelope grabbed the two vials filled with hair and a thick, bloody liquid.
She swung her backpack over her shoulder, each movent heavy with the weight of impending doom.
The journal lay waiting on the second shelf, and as she flung it open as instructed, did she truly comprehend the chaos she was about to unleash?
In an instant, a gust of wind spiraled into the room, almost alive as it swept through her hair. A thunderous boom resonated, reverberating through her bones like a warning bell.
From the depths of the pages, she felt sothing stirring. Was she truly prepared for what ca next?
A hand erupted from the ink-black pages, catching her off guard, and before she could even scream, it grasped her collar with a vice-like grip, yanking her into the yellowed pages from which it erged. Everything blurred into a whirlpool of color and chaos.
Drawing her dagger, Elizabeth turned around, only to find herself frozen in horror. The woman lood over Veronica, who lay helplessly in a pool of deep red, a horrid gash marring her temple. Veronica's eyes flickered towards Elizabeth, fear and defiance mingling in her gaze as she scread, “Go! What the hell do you think you’re doing, idiot?”
Tears shimred in Elizabeth’s eyes like fragile crystals, vulnerable and shimring with the weight of her turmoil, while her jaw tightened into a hard line, determination clashing with despair.
In a heartbeat, the woman surged forward, a fierce glint in her eyes; instinct took hold, and Elizabeth clutched her sword with an iron grip, the chilling fingers of fear wrapping around her heart like a vice, tightening with each fleeting second.
The weight of the mont pressed heavily upon her, a palpable tension in the air as Elizabeth drew a sharp breath, the tallic tang of blood mingling with the sweat on her brow. She swung her sword, the hilt pressed hard into the woman’s forearm. Warm blood, tinged with a sickening green hue, trickled from her wound, pooling in Elizabeth’s palm as she struggled to maintain her composure.
The woman stared at her, stunned.
Then, with a haunting snap, the woman’s fingers elongated into claws, her hair morphed into writhing snakes, and her body contorted until she was a monstrous fusion of beauty and ferocity—a Sphinx.
“What do you want, Sphinx?” Elizabeth whispered, a shudder running down her spine. “A riddle?”
“Nah, I’ve moved on from that. Now, die, my sweetie!” the Sphinx laughed, her voice a sinister lody. With a swift surge of energy, she sprang into the air. As the air crackled with urgency, Elizabeth lifted her sword high, the blade catching the light and reflecting it like a shard of ice.
It sank deep into the Sphinx’s back, and greenish blood gushed forth, slick and foul, staining Elizabeth's clothes as she fought to maintain her grip.
Roaring in rage, the Sphinx caught Elizabeth midair, throwing her against the stone walls with brutal force. An agonizing scream tore from Elizabeth's throat as sharp claws shredded into her skin, blood streaming down in rivulets onto the cold ground beneath her.
With every ounce of effort, she struggled to lift her arm, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her like a thick fog. The Sphinx approached, its massive form casting a shadow that swallowed the light, and its piercing gaze revealed a chilling intent that sent shivers down her spine.
Veronica shifted her gaze weakly. “Stupid… how dare you—,” she muttered, the fight within her still alive but fading.
The Sphinx tightened its grip with a ferocious roar and hurled Elizabeth aside. She crashed into the wall with a thud, her body sliding down the cold, unforgiving surface as the breath was knocked from her lungs. Panic tightened its grip around her heart as she gazed ahead, a chilling wave of dread engulfing her.
The colossal Sphinx, with its weathered stone skin glowing faintly, lunged forward with a sudden ferocity. Its massive claws, sharp and gleaming like polished obsidian, swept downwards, capturing Veronica in a vice-like grip. The weight of its grasp felt both oppressive and surreal, as if ti itself had stopped.
“Go!” Veronica gasped, her voice strained like a taut string, brimming with urgency and the raw weight of fear. A command, yet an impossibility for Elizabeth.
Her heart thudded painfully in her chest at the thought of leaving her friend in the clutches of danger.
Elizabeth won't abandon any of her friends if she could do sothing, knowing their bond could not be severed by fear alone.
With a heartbeat of courage, Elizabeth lunged at the Sphinx. She leaped through the air, her heart racing, the gleaming tip of her blade aid with deadly precision at the creature’s dark, beating heart.
The Sphinx howled in fury, its imnse form twisting like a tempest, attempting to shake her off like a re insect. But Elizabeth’s grip was unyielding; her fingers tightening around the hilt of her weapon as she drove the dagger deeper, feeling the rush of courage coursing through her.
Then, in a flash of motion, the Sphinx’s tail lashed out with bone-crushing force.
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It collided with Elizabeth midair, sending her spiraling down into an abyss of disorientation and despair, the world around her dissolving into a swirling darkness.
It moved inexorably toward Elizabeth, its elongated fangs gleaming like polished ivory, glinting wickedly in the dim, flickering lantern light. A wave of terror washed over her as she instinctively shut her eyes, her heart racing as she tried to steady her breath, preparing herself for the crushing finality she believed was imminent.
The chill of the marble floor sent jolts of sensation through her fingertips. She could feel the cold, smooth marbles beneath her palms—an oddly luxurious sensation amidst the chaos.
With every labored breath, the air enveloped her in a crisp, sugary sweetness, a tantalizing reminder of the vibrancy of life she was on the brink of losing. Still, the heavy, malodorous breath of the blood Sphinx lood above her, a dark cloud of dread that threatened to extinguish not just her will, but her very existence. Elizabeth felt as if she were about to sink into the abyss, her strength slipping away like grains of sand through her fingers.
Then, a resounding crunch shattered the tension, reverberating through the chamber like thunder. The Sphinx let out a low grunt before it crashed to the ground with a bone-rattling thud, sending tremors through the walls. In that mont of chaos, a firm hand seized Elizabeth’s, its warmth cutting through the freezing dread, anchoring her back from the brink of despair.
She hoisted herself up, a surge of relief coursing through her body, and found a shadowy figure enveloping her in a warm embrace.
“Percy?” Elizabeth whispered, her voice barely a breath. “How co you—”
Spiraling and swirling, Penelope didn’t dare open her eyes until her feet, shaky yet firm, found solid ground. When she finally dared to look, her surroundings unfolded before her like a nightmarish landscape—a deserted arena, where shadows danced in the pale light.
Datura moved gracefully, busy and purposeful, an unsettling calmness radiating from her as if she were orchestrating the very foundation of the universe.
Above, the full moon hung like a watchful eye, bathing the scene in ethereal light.
Penelope’s heart raced as she took in Datura’s actions.
Kneeling on the cracked earth, her fingers deftly tracing intricate patterns with a strange, chalk-like substance that seed to shimr under the fading light.
As she moved, a haunting lody slipped from her lips, a soft hum that hung in the air like an echo of forgotten wisdom. The notes danced lightly around Penelope, sending an unsettling chill down her spine.
Penelope's eyes widened as Datura’s hands twisted and turned, crafting delicate white lines that intertwined and spiraled, forming a complex web that sprawled across the ground.
Was she invoking a protective barrier, or was this so dark ritual ant to summon sothing malevolent?
Suddenly, the intricate patterns began to shimr, their chalky surface igniting with a brilliant, fiery glow. Flas licked at the edges of the designs, illuminating Penelope’s face with flickering shadows.
Heart racing, Penelope stood transfixed, her breath caught in her throat as she teetered on the brink of awe and horror.
Datura turned, her face a whirlwind of concentration and joy.
“The vial of hair and the syringe of blood?” Her voice was sharp, slicing through the tension like a knife.
With trembling hands, Penelope handed over the vials, the weight of them tangible, pressing down on her conscience.
“I can’t leave you behind, darling,” Percy Harrison laughed, his tone a comforting light amidst the chaos. Ahead, Veronica struggled to regain her balance, her body a tense wire ready to snap.
“Good for you two,” she groaned, the words heavy as stones. Elizabeth surged forward, wrapping her arms around Veronica to catch her before she crumpled to the ground. “You could’ve died, fool, do you understand?” “Veronica, are you okay?” Elizabeth's voice trembled with urgency.
“Yeah, I am,” Veronica replied, her tone sharp and defiant.
“I think I can help!” a voice chid in from the shadows. They spun to see a man bedecked in flamboyant tassels swaying toward them, exuding an unsettling cheerfulness.
“You can rest in my place! C’mon!” he said, joy lighting up his face as he effortlessly hoisted Veronica over his shoulder. With a surprising strength, he started to drag her away.
“Hey!” Elizabeth yelled, her heart racing, yet the man rely chuckled, “C’mon, don’t be shy.”
Panic surged through Elizabeth as she dashed after him, her mind spinning with warnings.
“It’s a trick!” she heard herself shout,
“but I can’t leave de Angelo!” another voice clamored.
“Elizabeth, don’t!” Percy called behind her, his voice strained with alarm.
“No, Perce, I have to go!” Elizabeth bellowed as she quickened her pace, “By the way, thanks a lot for saving !”
Percy tried to follow, but sothing invisible halted him in his tracks. He looked up, confusion sweeping over him; there was nothing to see.
Rushing back to him, Elizabeth frowned as her hands brushed against an icy barrier, cold glass shimring ominously before her in midair.
She pounded on it, desperation clawing at her throat, but it wouldn’t budge.
From the other side, Percy’s horrified shriek was swallowed by silence. She waved frantically at him before turning to follow the man.
They curved around a corner, descending a spiraling staircase until they reached a place labeled “Spa Square.”
“I’ll grab a room key; you can stay as long as you want,” the man declared, his grin wide and disconcerting. Veronica let out a disgruntled grunt, but the man paid her no mind.
He led them into a vast square room lined with doorways to sauna rooms. The thick aroma of humidity hung in the air, steam curling lazily toward the vaulted ceiling, while music echoed in the distance, a haunting lody that made Elizabeth shiver.
“Enjoy yourself,” the man said, a sinister smile spreading across his face. Without hesitating, he flung open a door and unceremoniously laid Veronica onto the warm, tiled floor. He pressed a button, and steam erupted into the space like a dragon breathing out its fire, enveloping them both. As he shoved Elizabeth inside, she caught a glimpse of the man’s eyes, gleaming with malice.
“I’ll be outside; just pound on the door if you want to get out, okay? Have fun,” he said cheerfully before slamming the door shut with a resounding thud.
Steam filled the room in a matter of seconds, its heat wrapping around Elizabeth like an oppressive blanket. She scrambled to Veronica’s side, flas flickering to life in her palms. With a breath, she flipped her hands over, silvery threads shimring as they stitched through Veronica’s wounds.
Blood faded from her shirt, and within monts, the injuries were healed, leaving only a faint trace.
“How do you feel?” Elizabeth asked, patting her friend on the back.
“Nice for you,” Veronica replied stubbornly, struggling to sit upright. “So you think it’s fair that soone just strolls up, asking us to enjoy an extravagant sauna? Sothing feels off,” Veronica groaned, rubbing her forehead, a pained crease forming.
The temperature in the room was climbing fast, sweat trickling down Elizabeth’s forehead and dripping down her cheek like tiny, molten jewels. Her cracked lips tasted of salty blood, and the floor beneath them felt like a scorching pan, urging them to keep moving to avoid getting burned.
Bursting with desperation, Elizabeth dashed for the door, yanking at the handle, but it was locked tight. She pounded on it, but the man remained oblivious, smiling wickedly as he withdrew a cigarette and spoke through a speaker.
“How may I help you?” he asked, his calm voice dripping with condescension.
“Get us out of here!” Elizabeth scread, fists clenched in rage.
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