Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
"I won't be long," I said, stepping out onto the cobblestone street.
The town was alive with its usual hum of activity, but my nerves simmered beneath the surface. Ambrose gave me a small nod, his usual calm expression in place. "Take your time, Mistress," he said in his easygoing manner. "I’ve got a crossword puzzle to finish up anyway."
I smiled, the lightness in his tone easing some of the anxiety that had begun to coil in my chest. "Alright." With a wave, I left him there, feeling his eyes on me as I crossed into the market.
The town was busy, as it often was. Tourists milled about, marveling at the quaint yet mysterious charm of Stygian Isle, while servitors and Isle women moved with purpose. Many greeted me with reverence and happiness. It was normal for them, and I had begun to mind it less and less. This was just another part of my new life.
Anytime I went out, I usually had the Electi and Esther with me, along with their servitors. They were always there, watching over me, offering a sense of companionship I never expected. Another group of people I didn't want to leave. The thought of them, and everything I’d been drawn into, only made the decision weighing on me feel heavier.
Esther had kept the note a secret, proving me wrong about her loyalty. I had assumed she would always run to her brother and tell him all the things I tried to keep hidden, but she had shown me, time and time again, that she could be a true friend. Her silence on the matter was a gift, one that made me realize I could trust her more than I ever expected. And then there was Adelita. I didn’t know her well yet, but I wanted to. I might not have felt any lingering attachment to Isabel or Kyle, but Adelita?
She was someone I wanted to get to know, someone I felt I could grow to love. With a shaky breath, I grabbed a basket as my palms began to sweat. I made my way through the aisles, past smiling faces and familiar greetings, and toward the familiar rows of items. The Isle’s version of Oreos sat neatly on the shelf—the reason I had told Alexander I was coming here.
But it wasn’t just the cookies that had me standing there, frozen. It was the pharmacy in the back of the store, the row of tests sitting there, waiting for me. My heart raced as I considered it, torn between confirming what I already knew deep down, or walking back to the other aisle—the one the note had told me to go to.
I faltered, standing there for a moment, suspended between two choices, two paths. One would answer the gnawing question that had haunted me for days, but the other... The other would take me to something unknown. Something in my chest tightened, pulling me toward that other aisle. Row T4. What would I find there? With a deep breath, I swallowed my hesitation and started toward it.
At the last second, I pivoted, my nerves fraying, and searched for a sign. A bathroom. There—down a narrow hall. I headed for it instead, needing a moment to collect myself before deciding what to do next.
Just as I neared the door to the bathroom, a figure blurred past me, its movement so swift it seemed like a shadow cutting through the dim light.
My breath caught as a masked nun seized my arm with startling strength, pulling me off balance. “Be silent,” she hissed, her voice a whisper from the shadows. Before I could even react, she dragged me around a corner, shoving me through a heavy, creaking back door. The basket in my hands felt like dead weight as I was lifted into a waiting SUV, the door slamming shut behind me with a jarring finality. The car lurched forward almost immediately, the engine roaring against the quiet menace of the storm building outside.
“What the hell is going on?” My words trembled, the fear creeping in like fog over a darkened moor.
The masked nun twisted in the front seat, and as she removed the mask, the sight had me swallowing a gasp. Nicolette‑‑the woman who once carried herself with eerie grace was now a twisted version of herself.
Half her lips were missing, crudely torn away where her mouth had been sewn shut weeks ago. The scars, jagged and inflamed, had healed poorly, leaving a grotesque reminder of her punishment. She was no longer the ghostly presence of quiet power—she was broken and horrifying.
“I’m saving you,” she rasped, her words barely intelligible through the mangled remains of her mouth. The scarring twisted her expression into something monstrous, her voice laced with desperation. “And myself.”
My gaze darted to the driver, and recognition crashed into me. The Bellhop from the resort. I had seen him before, lurking in the corners, always watching. His face, pale and inscrutable, remained fixed ahead as the rain streaked down the windows like the tears of a weeping sky.