Chapter 151 - What is it that you fear?

Chapter recap:

Faustina ambled her way to the passages, only seeing ghosts that had terrified her beyond her wits. But as she passed through these apparitions, their effect on her dwindled until she didn't even battle an eye upon seeing one.

Faustina noticed a strange door that had intricate patterns all over it. It wasn't the same as the others which looked plain and unkempt. This one… it was polished all over and had a rather girlish theme to it. 

Reaching her hand to the doorknob, Faustina felt as if she was doing something wrong—like walking into a trap.

But then…

The door purposefully opened, and then dragged Faustina inside its darkness. Faustina blinked several times, seeing nothing but obscurity.

And then, IT appeared.

Like from a play from the story Snow White, a stage light appeared from above, illuminating what seemed like a glass coffin. Faustina, with the peculiar desire to saunter forward to see the one lying in the coffin better, went ahead and followed her yearning. She peered down below.

Lying in the coffin was the figure of a beautiful girl, eyes closed, and was peacefully asleep. She looked beautiful—no, ethereal, even; however…

"Isn't this… the princess from the portrait?"

"Yes," it was a voice from behind. "Beautiful, aren't I?"

And as Faustina turned her head slowly, her eyes met that of a girl's face ridden with maggots and rotten flesh. It leaned towards her and then smiled widely.

"Tell me I'm beautiful." She said; her voice deep and demonic. "Isn't the princess b e a u t i f u l?"

Faustina held her breath as the darkness enveloped her entire body.

"Now do tell..." The girl said. "Is the undead princess beautiful?" 

**

Is the undead princess beautiful?

The words that came from a corpse that had maggots in her decaying flesh made Faustina answer 'no' in her mind. And from Faustina's surprised face, along with her reactions, the girl who was wearing a blackened corset and what seemed like a torn gown, was the undead princess.

She was looking at Faustina with such big, sharp eyes as she exchanged stares with her. Faustina couldn't take her eyes off of the undead princess, who had like a cat's pupils. It was the color of jaundice-yellow, and was sick to look at. Faustina, who couldn't take her gaze off of her, tried to take a step back and conjure a spell.

But then, she found out one thing—

She couldn't.

The maggots crawling upon the openings of the undead princess' rotten face were thick and foul-smelling. They were gnawing on her flesh as their body crawled and created mushed noises. If anyone was in Faustina's place right now, they would undoubtedly vomit from the sight. But Faustina was a girl that grew up in the mountains. She dealt with maggots and insects through her entire sixteen years of existence.

But this was nothing compared to those maggots who swarmed dead animals across the forest. 

The undead princess wasn't taking her eyes off of Faustina, and she wasn't moving either. They were just staring at each other without batting an eye. Faustina found herself lost into the undead princess' gaze—her eyes were yellow and slit like a cat.

"You are not scared of my beauty." The undead princess uttered; her voice was akin to a male who was deep unto the ground. 

Faustina did not answer—no, she was unable to. Why can't she move? It was as if her body was completely frozen, yet she could still breathe. Faustina wondered why she couldn't move an inch. And there came no explanation other than the undead princess taking control of her.

Faustina waited for the undead princess to attack, yet there came nothing but a stare. The undead princess wasn't taking her eyes off her, and she wasn't even blinking. It was disturbing Faustina, but she had already seen real horrors. This was nothing compared to the marionette who had attacked her. This was nothing compared to THAT night her master died—the same night where the man who had haunted her dreams came to lay waste upon the land she had lived. 

The night where she lost both Eula and her home.

"I cannot FEED ONTO your MANA if you are not opening your heart to ME."

Faustina wanted to scowl to show her visible confusion. It didn't sound like something an undead princess would say, nor any other enemy. 

"You have to fear me." The undead princess moved her body closer to Faustina as she pressed her rotten face closer upon hers. Even though Faustina lost her ability to move her body, she could still FEEL. And feeling comes with also smelling. 

The stench of the undead princess' atrociously decaying body enveloped Faustina—it reeked of death and carcasses, something Eula herself didn't like to handle.

"I don't like seeing death, so I dedicated myself upon healing." Eula often said. "I cure people so that I won't see dead bodies again. So, chap, I want you to find your purpose to be able to heal many people properly."

"Can't I just copy what you said and then take them to heart? Like what typical apprentices do?"

"And what do you know about typical apprentices, hm?" Eula pinched Faustina's cheek. "You couldn't just copy someone's ambition half-heartedly, Faustina. You have to find your own purpose. It can be today, tomorrow, or even several years from now. Who knows? You might even be able to heal the king if you find what your heart lingers to attain."

Faustina let the stench and the gruesome sight appear before her as she stared at the undead princess, still unbothered. The undead princess, who seemed to notice this, drew away from Faustina a few centimeters away. 

"It seems like you are unlike any other person." 

Before Faustina could even respond (if she was able to), the undead princess raised her slender hands and then straightaway wrapped her rotten fingers to Faustina's face.

"Now tell me," the undead princess exclaims. "What is it that you fear?"

**

First came darkness—

And then…

The cabin.

Faustina blinked several times as she sees the familiar scenario. She was in front of the table, and before her was a mortar and pestle; a ladle, and…

"Ack!"

A cough of blood startled Faustina, making her crush the green herb faster as she frowned. She immediately plunged it to a wooden cup filled with lukewarm water afterward, sweating profusely.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead as she stirred the medicine and swiftly took a ladle to make her master drink. Her hands were trembling, maybe because of fatigue.

She was working night and day without any rest, after all…. Huh?

Faustina's dark-brown eyes were like fallen autumn leaves. Seeing her only guardian befall with such agonizing pain. Her black hair was tied into a bun, a habit her master told her to have, in order to prevent contamination with the medicine they are creating.

"Faustina," says Eula in a very weak voice, "I don't think I am going to live much longer."

"Don't say that," Faustina softly said, as the ladle touched the dried lip of her master. Eula's fair complexion was now pale. Her red hair was unkempt, although Faustina combs it every day.

Faustina stopped.

Déjà vu.

Hasn't this happened before? This scene, this familiar setup.

"Eula." Faustina stared at the woman who was bedridden, and was clearly knocking upon death's door. She was in a weak state. No. Eula was in a worse case than this.

"If I may intrude..."

Faustina froze. It's as if time stopped. Her heartbeat slowed and grew loud, as she turned around slowly towards the door. The moon was shining brightly against the silhouette of a smiling man.

The familiar scenery from before.

"I am deeply sorry for what sorrow you have experienced." He says, sympathetic. "Such sadness has befallen your heart, such crestfallen melodies from your cries."

"Wh-who are you?"

No. Faustina KNOWS who this man was—yet, she couldn't stop it. She couldn't stop replaying what had happened, as if she was inside the past, yet she couldn't do anything but adhere to what was bound to happen. Faustina's lips trembled as she sees in her peripheral Eula's dead body. Minutes from now, Eula would be taken away. Minutes from now, she would be thrown outside the cabin and fight this monster hopelessly.

And minutes from now, her life will change.

"Oh, you may call me Jonathan," he says as he bowed. "I am a Warlock and a Doctor."

The man smiled. "I have come to collect, oh—I meant... to acquire something special, my dear."

Faustina's heartbeat thumped cacophonously against her chest as Jonathan sauntered towards her. She did what she had done in the past. Faustina grabbed what was the object the nearest to her—a pestle; an inconvenient weapon, really.

It was a nightmare to see everything replaying back to her while she anticipated what would happen. Everything THAT night evokes the fresh memories she had from Jonathan's attacks, and the horrendous feeling she got as she hears his name. Like a cruel flashback where she was forced to do what she had done before, and watch what had happened into the past—Faustina lost it finally.

"STOP! STOP THIS! I DON'T WANT IT!!!!"

And then, it did.

"Finally, I know what you fear." The undead princess's voice slowly shifted to someone else's. Someone familiar. Someone Faustina had feared.

"The forsaken warlock," from a rotting carcass transformed slowly into a pale man with dark hair and red eyes—the familiar smile and cold, mocking aura of sheer power and malevolence.

"J-jonathan…" Faustina murmured as her knees wobbled.

"Now," the undead princess—no—Jonathan licked his lips. "It is time to feed."