Filed to story: My Husband Regrets Divorcing Me (Audrey & Cornell)
In the midst of her despair, a voice broke through the silence. “Chief, please, you’ve had enough. You mustn’t drink any further.” It was the witch clad in red, whom Nicole recognized as her captor.
Before Nicole’s eyes, the elderly woman, addressed as the chief, dismissed the witch clad in red with a casual wave of her hand, sending the latter tumbling across the room with a sickening thud.
“Ugh!” The witch clad in red expelled a mouthful of blood, only to have the eager serpents descend upon it hungrily, lapping it up as if starved.
The repulsive sight of the writhing serpents feasting sent shivers down Nicole’s spine, her stomach churning in revulsion.
Clenching her chest in pain, the witch clad in red knelt once more, her voice trembling. She pleaded, “Forgive me, Chief. It has become increasingly difficult to procure suitable offerings lately. We must be prudent to ensure a steady supply.”
In response, the elderly woman, known as the chief, callously discarded her current victim and snapped impatiently, “You’re worthless! Your incompetence has led to a shortage of suitable offerings. They’re so fragile, requiring days to recover after a single feeding. When will you be prepared for the ceremony?”
Nicole’s attention was instantly captured by the mention of the ceremony, realizing it must be the same event she had overheard earlier, undoubtedly related to her fate. With bated breath, she strained to catch every word, sensing that her destiny hung in the balance.
The witch clad in red responded confidently, “Chief, after administering another dose of the parasitic medicine tomorrow, that woman’s body will be fully restored. We can proceed with the ceremony in three days at the earliest.”
“Three days…” the elderly woman mused, considering the timeline. “Very well, conserve these offerings. Once I transfer bodies, I’ll require them to maintain my youthful appearance.”
“Understood!” The witch clad in red bowed her head dutifully.
“Good. Now, escort this offering and administer the regular parasitic medicine to aid her recovery. I need her to provide more blood,” the elderly woman commanded.
“Alright. I’ll attend to it immediately,” the witch clad in red replied, leading the weakened victim out of the room.
As the witch clad in red neared the door, Nicole’s heart raced with fear, realizing she was on the brink of being exposed. Hastily, she pressed herself against the wall, but her foot accidentally crunched on a pile of dry leaves, betraying her presence.
“Who’s there?”
The witch clad in red stormed out of the room, heedlessly discarding the victim she carried, only to confront a man garbed in white, his countenance an enigma in the shadows.
“How did you get out here?” she asked, taken aback by his sudden appearance.
There was no reply from the man, his visage betraying no emotion, a void in the darkness.
Inside, the elderly woman with a crown of snow-white hair, known as the chief, asked, “Emerie, who’s lurking outside?”
Emerie stole a glance at the youthful man before her and answered with composure, “Chief, it’s merely the breaking of a cocoon.”
“It’s silly to be startled by a little thing,” the chief grumbled irritably.
“My apologies. Chief, I’ll handle it,” Emerie assured, sending a silent command to the man, warning him to remain still.
With that, she retrieved the victim she had abandoned, closing the door firmly behind her. Glancing at the man, she whispered, “Mr. Watts, let’s go.”
Obediently, Roscoe followed Emerie. As the silence descended once more, Nicole brushed off the foliage clinging to her body and rose slowly.
Nicole’s face was still pale, having nearly been exposed. A timely intervention had saved her, a kick to her ankle sending her tumbling beneath a cascade of leaves just as Emerie emerged.
Though Nicole hadn’t glimpsed her savior, the name spoken confirmed it. He was Roscoe. Could it be that he retained some semblance of sanity, pretending to have amnesia?
Nicole couldn’t comprehend it all, but she knew one thing for certain. Roscoe had rescued her. Perhaps the parasite hadn’t entirely consumed Roscoe’s mind and perhaps he feigned obedience. This notion ignited a flicker of hope within Nicole. If they could unite, their chances of escape would be better.
Returning to the tree she had ascended earlier, Nicole embarked on the arduous climb upward. Recalling Roscoe’s whispered instruction to urge her to go back, Nicole pondered its significance. The mention of another pill from Emerie hinted at her safety until the impending ceremony in three days.
As for the pill’s efficacy, Nicole assumed she had already consumed two doses. A third seemed inconsequential. If it indeed proved to be some pills with effects equivalent to those elixirs, perhaps Austin wouldn’t have to endure his affliction. A remedy might be on the horizon.
Yet, despite her improved condition, Nicole remained wary of allowing Austin to digest the pill without uncovering its content and side effects first. She resolved to seek proper medical attention upon escape to verify the effects.
Struggling upward, Nicole reached for the door. A sudden gust caused her legs to tremble and a scarlet serpent whizzed past her ear. The guard serpent woke up and assailed her for moving forward.
In a heartbeat, Nicole darted back to her initial spot, narrowly evading the serpent’s reach. Upon reentering the marked area, the serpent surprisingly stopped its attack.
In the faint glow, Nicole spotted a fine dusting of sulfur on the ground, a substance the serpent seemed to dread. This realization eased her nerves. The supposed sorcery was merely a facade meant to evoke fear and reverence.
With newfound confidence, Nicole understood the urgency of sealing the door before Emerie returned and uncovered her little trip out. The serpent, now awake, wouldn’t succumb to slumber again anytime soon. Nicole deliberated briefly before gathering a handful of the sulfur powder, poised for action.
Time crawled as Nicole prepared. Finally, seizing her chance, she dashed toward the door. The serpent, witnessing her departure from the marked area, hissed and lunged at her.
Nicole hurled the sulfur powder, causing the serpent to slump to the ground, incapacitated. Swiftly, Nicole shut the door, deftly sliding the latch back into place with a makeshift tool.
Returning to her designated spot, she observed the weakened serpent, its feeble glare now seeming more like a bluff, akin to its master’s demeanor. She was no longer afraid.
As anticipated, Emerie reappeared, her keen eyes immediately detecting the serpent’s plight. The serpent, pitiful and subdued, writhed weakly up Emerie’s arm, emitting feeble hisses as if pleading for aid.
Emerie’s gaze turned icy as she confronted Nicole. “What have you done to it?”
Nicole feigned innocence, her voice trembling in an act of fear. “I… I didn’t do anything. It attacked me while I was stretching. I’ve been confined for three days, barely able to move. I don’t know why it acted this way…”
Her performance momentarily deceived Emerie, who assumed the serpent had encountered the sulfur powder. Administering a pill from her sleeve, Emerie soothed the serpent, which obediently consumed it before settling down to rest.
Unlike the callous chief, Emerie harbored affection for the creatures she had nurtured, treating them as her own kin. She hated seeing them hurt. Approaching Nicole, Emerie offered another pill, ensuring its ingestion by guiding Nicole’s throat.
Nicole complied, feeling the pills’ effects enhancing her vitality without the need for sustenance. With a lingering scent of pine, likely from Roscoe, Emerie departed without further discourse. Nicole took it as a sign from Roscoe.
Closing her eyes, Nicole prepared to rest, buoyed by the unexpected efficacy of the pills, which infused her with uncharacteristic vigor.
As night descended, Nicole cautiously tested her surroundings. The serpent, still recuperating, lay dormant. Stealthily approaching the door on her toes, Nicole reached for the latch, only to find it already ajar from the outside.
Panic surged through her as she turned to retreat, but before she could react, the door swung wide open.
Caught off guard, Nicole failed to get back to her original position in time. As the door swung open, she saw a tall, dark figure. She paused, realizing it wasn’t Emerie as she had thought. Looking more closely, she recognized it was Roscoe.
Roscoe’s eyes, unlike during the day, now had a sharp, intense focus. He spoke softly. “Nicole…”
Nicole was at a loss for words, overwhelmed by shock. “You… You haven’t lost your memory?” Why else had he recognized her?
Roscoe didn’t explain right away. Instead, he grabbed her wrist and said, “I’ll explain later. We need to get out of here now.”
Without hesitation, Nicole allowed Roscoe to lead her as they quickly slid down the tree.
To avoid making noise, they took off their shoes and proceeded in their socks, carefully walking to avoid the crunch of leaves underfoot.
Suddenly, the sound of flapping wings filled the air.
“Get down!” Roscoe whispered quickly.
Nicole instantly dropped to the ground, lying flat.
Above them, a gigantic bird soared by, its wings beating loudly as it emitted a piercing cry.
Once the bird was out of sight, Roscoe whispered, “That’s an Alistair Bird. It patrols the valley at night. If it spots strangers, it swoops down, snatches them up, and drops them from a great height to kill them.”
Nicole felt a chill run through her. She had seen the massive shadow the Alistair Bird cast. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was nearly the size of a whale. Such a massive bird could easily snatch one or two people effortlessly.
“How do they recognize strangers?” Nicole asked.
From her observations, the animals in this area were remarkably alert and responsive to commands, suggesting to Nicole that the witches had genuine magical powers.
However, Nicole had her doubts about the simplicity of it all. The serpent’s fear of sulfur powder was a good example.
Roscoe spoke quietly. “The Alistair Bird was trained by the witches and can pick up different scents. The witches incorporate Soul-leaving Grass into the bird’s diet. Each witch carries a vial of the Soul-leaving Grass extract, which helps the bird identify who is a friend and who is a foe.”
Nicole found this explanation convincing. It affirmed her suspicion that the magic she observed was just a brilliant manipulation.
Roscoe guided Nicole skillfully through the winding forest, moving as if he knew every twist and turn.
“How do you know all this?” Nicole whispered.
“I observed as I moved around during the day,” Roscoe answered. Everyone thought he was just another mindless puppet under the control of the parasites, so his random wandering around the valley seemed harmless.
In reality, Roscoe used these moments to study the paths and to learn how the witches directed and manipulated their surroundings. Like Nicole, he didn’t subscribe to the myths of sorcery, though he acknowledged the mind-controlling power of those parasites.
During the darkest times when the parasites dominated his mind, Roscoe’s efforts to fight against their influence went beyond description.
Roscoe led Nicole to a riverbank, stopped, and then pulled out a small glass vial, hanging it around Nicole’s neck. He explained, “This is Soul-leaving Grass. Keep it on and follow the river. It will lead you out.”
Nicole hesitated, realizing that Roscoe wasn’t planning to leave with her. She paused before asking, “What about you?”
“I’m not leaving yet,” Roscoe answered. “You’d better get going. I can buy some time for you.”
“Why aren’t you leaving with me?” Nicole questioned, baffled.
“I found out that their chief keeps herself young by consuming human blood. She intends to transfer her soul into another body, a feat only one person is rumored to have achieved before. The witches believe this completely, and that’s why they captured you. You were selected by their serpent spirit because of the unique energy of your body.”
Roscoe continued, “Emerie had taken the serpent spirit with her. When we met in the hospital, the serpent spirit got excited at the sight of you. Emerie then arranged everything to ensure your capture.”
This was Nicole’s first time hearing such a bizarre story. Yet, considering the conversations she had secretly listened to between the white-haired chief and Emerie, she realized Roscoe was telling the truth. As hard as it was to believe, she could no longer deny the absurdity of the reality.
Roscoe added, “Emerie is next in line to be the chief. She claimed to be over eighty years old but maintained her youth through blood transfusions and pills made from parasites. They keep many living victims here for their need to suck blood.”
The depth of their insanity horrified Nicole. She asked, “What happens if the soul transfer doesn’t work?”