Filed to story: My Husband Regrets Divorcing Me (Audrey & Cornell)
Nicole couldn’t help but smirk at the chief’s feeble attempt to intimidate her. “If I’m truly delusional, why not let your vaunted Holy Spirit deliver its judgment upon me now?” she countered, her tone dripping with mockery.
The provocative challenge ignited a fervent uproar among the witches, some of whom began to question the chief’s assertions.
“Yes, why waste words on this intruder? Let the Holy Spirit mete out its justice and rend this woman limb from limb!” they clamored in agreement.
Their voices rose in fervent chorus. “That’s right! Chief, show no mercy to this insolent wretch who dares to profane our sacred rites! Let her suffer a fate befitting her transgressions!”
Amidst the tumultuous clamor, a solitary voice pierced through the chaos. “We beseech the Holy Spirit to deal with the intruder!”
In unified fervor, the gathered witches echoed the plea. “We beseech the Holy Spirit to deal with the intruder.”
Faced with mounting pressure from her zealous followers, the chief found herself backed into a corner, her authority hanging by a tenuous thread. In a fit of frustration, she snapped, “Silence!”
Instantly, the cacophony of voices ceased, silenced by the force of the chief’s command.
Undeterred by the chief’s display of authority, Nicole addressed the witches with unwavering confidence, “You’ve all been deceived.”
With conviction, Nicole continued, “There is no Holy Spirit. Look at me. I’ve taken your revered holy witch hostage, yet I stand unscathed before you. Can’t you see? Your chief wields no divine power. She’s been deceiving you all along!”
“Impossible!” the witches yelled vehemently, rejecting Nicole’s accusations.
“The chief extends her benevolence, offering you a chance at redemption,” one of the witches interjected, seeking to mollify the tense atmosphere.
“That’s correct,” the chief interjected, seizing the opening to assert her dominance. “I am indeed granting you a chance. Yet, should you spurn this opportunity, you shall meet a fate far worse than death.”
“There’s no need for such theatrics,” Nicole said, her voice ringing with defiance. “Proceed and inflict upon me the most dreadful demise imaginable, so that your followers may witness the truth.”
“You!” The chief seethed, her complexion paling with indignation.
“What? Cat got your tongue?” Nicole retorted dismissively.
“Either subject me to your imagined horrors or release that man on the altar. Your reign of terror ends now. No longer shall you hide in the shadows of these mountains, perpetrating atrocities against the innocent. Your days of deceit are numbered!”
Blinded by their unwavering faith in divine decree, the witches remained steadfast in their conviction that their actions were righteous, incapable of comprehending any wrongdoing.
Dismissive of Nicole’s attempts to enlighten them, the witches remained resolute in their belief that sacrificing souls was a virtuous endeavor ordained by higher powers.
Frustrated by Nicole’s persistent defiance, the chief’s fury boiled over. “Stop your seditious chatter!” she screamed, her voice dripping with disdain. “Our witch clan is beyond the influence of a mere mortal such as yourself.”
Emerie said to the chief, her tone imploring, “Chief, this woman dares to challenge your authority. Please, put an end to her defiance!”
Watching Emerie’s passionate appeal, Nicole recognized her as the most devout follower, deeply immersed in their misguided beliefs. Undaunted, Nicole persisted in exposing the truths she had uncovered.
“Emerie, you may be younger than me, but have you ever questioned the notion that you’re over eighty? Do you truly have memories spanning eight decades?” Nicole remarked, her tone measured yet pointed.
Emerie’s expression faltered, her mind grappling with the absence of recollections from her early years. From childhood, she had been indoctrinated to accept her purported age, reinforced by the chief’s fabricated evidence.
In this secluded enclave, the chief held unquestioned authority, revered as a deity alongside the Holy Spirit. To doubt her word was unthinkable.
“It’s evident you lack these memories,” Nicole continued, her voice unwavering. “Can’t you see the incongruity? While you remain eternally youthful, your chief ages before your eyes.”
Emerie hesitated, her allegiance wavering momentarily before rallying to the defense of her revered chief. “You spew lies!” she countered, her voice trembling with conviction. “The chief is not subject to aging. She is a celestial being, beyond reproach.”
Nicole’s brow furrowed at the assertion. “A celestial being?” Her tone dripped with sarcasm as she said, “Why not request your esteemed chief to unveil her true countenance beneath the mask of human skin?”
“Human skin?” Emerie’s incredulity was palpable.
Yet, despite Nicole’s pointed observation, none of the followers dared to entertain such blasphemous thoughts.
Nicole pressed on, highlighting the incongruity between the chief’s smooth visage and the wrinkled texture of her neck. “Check her neck filled with wrinkles. Isn’t it glaringly obvious that something is amiss?”
The witches’ gazes instinctively shifted towards the stage. Among them, those with keen eyesight discerned a discrepancy in the appearance of the chief’s neck.
However, Emerie, entrenched in her unwavering devotion, refused to entertain these doubts. “Cease your fear-mongering, demoness!” she exclaimed defiantly.
“The Holy Spirit shall surely deliver punishment upon you.”
Unwilling to engage in further debate, Nicole gestured toward the stage. “Just let your esteemed chief descend and dispel these allegations to see whether my words hold no merit!”
In a surprising turn of events, a voice from the crowd echoed Nicole’s sentiments. “Chief, this woman spreads falsehoods. Please, come down and restore our faith.”
The chief’s countenance shifted at these words.
Naturally, the chief would not descend, afraid of her wrinkled neck and skin being spotted. She castigated the witch who proposed the idea, calling the latter a fool.
Her anger palpable, the chief declared, “Do you expect me to step down just because some demoness is spouting nonsense? Have you all gone mad?”
The witch who had spoken earlier was immediately chastened, lowering her head in fear, wishing she could vanish.
The other witches, cowed by the chief’s formidable presence, agreed that the suggestion was indeed preposterous. To ask the chief to come down for such a trivial matter would demean her stature and seem laughable.
Yet, Emerie harbored doubts, noting there might be some truth in Nicole’s words. Unlike the others, who had only glimpsed the chief from afar, Emerie had direct interactions with the chief.
On occasion, Emerie had glimpsed the chief’s grotesque neck, resembling dried flesh clinging to the bone, the skin hanging loosely in multiple folds. It resembled the skin of a snake.
But only Emerie was privy to this sight, as the chief seldom met with other witches except on days of ritual, and she alone spent time with the chief.
It was just that Emerie struggled to accept what she saw. Her years of devout belief had painted the chief as a saintly figure. Challenging this perception could shatter her entire worldview.
“Demoness, you have drawn the ire of the heavens, do you understand that?” Abruptly, the chief turned on Nicole. Realizing Nicole’s extensive knowledge, the chief had no plans to simply let her walk away. She saw this as an ideal moment to handle both Nicole and Roscoe simultaneously.
With a flick of her wrist, the torch in the chief’s hand ignited flames mysteriously. Then, the chief fell to the ground, her voice trembling with feigned terror.
“The Holy Spirit is wrathful! The Holy Spirit is wrathful! Please, have mercy on us. Holy Spirit, forgive us…”
The sight of their chief’s dramatic display prompted the followers to kneel, echoing her pleas for divine forgiveness.
With her objective met, the chief stood, brandishing her torch toward Nicole, declaring, “This woman is tainted by a demon. We must purify her soul at the lotus altar. Otherwise, the demon will continue to haunt our world.”
“Holy Spirit, manifest your might, banish this demon, and restore peace!”
“Holy Spirit, manifest your might, banish this demon, and restore peace!”
Overwhelmed, Nicole remained silent as the crowd fervently chanted, pushing her toward the altar. She was acutely aware that this was the chief’s ploy to label her as a malevolent force to redirect the collective rage toward her.
Gripping her knife firmly, Nicole confronted the chief with icy resolve. “Enough of your lies and manipulations. Release Roscoe now, or I will end this woman and expose the myths of eternal youth and immortality as mere fabrications. She’s nothing but a normal girl.”
With these words, Nicole pressed the knife against Emerie’s neck, causing blood to trickle down. Emerie endured the agony yet convinced herself it was merely due to her insufficient training. She told herself that all she needed was more dedication.
With resolve, Emerie yelled to the chief, “Chief, don’t be concerned for me. This demoness can’t harm me. Focus on vanquishing her evil spirit and safeguarding our journey!”
Before the chief could reply, Emerie seized the knife and pressed it against her own throat, cutting it deeply. Blood spurted out immediately.
Nicole stood frozen, her hands slick with blood, stunned by Emerie’s drastic action. Who would have imagined Emerie possessed such courage to end her own life?
“Ah…” A piercing scream broke the silence, and chaos followed. Wasn’t Emerie claimed to be immortal? Then why was she bleeding so profusely, looking as if she was on the brink of death?
Nicole was the first to snap out of her shock. She hurriedly knelt down and pressed her robe against Emerie’s wound in a futile attempt to stem the flow of blood.
Blood continued to gush like a fountain. Emerie’s eyes widened in shock, and she made gurgling noises. Unable to speak with her throat cut, her condition was ghastly to witness.
Nicole exclaimed in a panic, “Stop talking, just wait! Where is that pill you mentioned? Can it save your life? Will it stop the bleeding?”
Emerie was unable to reply or even change her expression, feeling her life fading away. At that moment, a profound regret filled Emerie. She belatedly knew she truly was on the brink of death.
Could it be that she wasn’t immortal after all? Had the chief been deceiving her all this time? She struggled with the realization, but as she reached out a desperate hand toward the chief, the chief’s eyes spoke volumes.
The panic in the chief’s gaze confirmed Emerie’s worst fears. She had been manipulated and lied to for years, never living for herself but always under the chief’s command. And now, she was paying the ultimate price for that deception.
“Uh…uh…” With a weak, raspy voice, Emerie tried to point at the chief, her blood-soaked hand trembling before it began to fall.
Nicole, frantic, turned to the others and yelled, “Where’s that miracle pill? Quick, get it! Can’t you see she’s dying?”
The chief alone possessed the pill, rumored to have miraculous properties. It couldn’t resurrect the dead, but it could extend a life hanging by a thread. Given Emerie’s condition, the pill could potentially extend her life for several more hours, enough time for a possible rescue.
However, when Emerie gestured with that intense look in her eyes, the chief realized she could not allow Emerie to survive. It was clear to her that Emerie had uncovered her secret, and therefore, Emerie had to be silenced.
Facing Emerie’s condemning stare, the chief announced, “The holy witch has succumbed to injuries inflicted by an evil spirit’s weapon. Take her away immediately for treatment.”
Four witches stepped up, seizing Emerie from Nicole’s grasp, and hurried her off. Nicole, uncertain of their true intentions, felt an urge to follow but found herself blocked by the chief’s firm command.
“Demoness, do you truly believe you can flee?” the chief taunted.
The chief then instructed the other witches, “Escort this demoness forward. I will call upon the Holy Spirit to cleanse this corrupted soul and expose the lurking evil!” The witches began to drag Nicole toward the platform.
Nicole resisted, shouting at the witches, “Can’t you see what’s happening? Check on Emerie! Don’t listen to your chief. She’s deceiving you!”
However, her pleas fell on deaf ears, as the witches, steeped in unwavering loyalty, ignored her cries. Nicole was forcefully positioned at the rear of the lotus altar, restrained with her back to Roscoe.
The chief wasted no time, lifting her torch in a bid to eliminate Nicole without delay. However, she made a spectacle of it, hoisting the torch and declaring proudly, “Expel the evil spirit, and accumulate great virtue!”