Chapter 7: Aftermath
416 Words
The night after the ritual, I dreamt of water.
Cold, black, endless water.
I was sinking—slowly—my limbs heavy, breath stolen. And above me, a voice echoed like thunder under the waves:
*"You chose pain. But pain is a door."*
I woke up gasping, drenched in sweat, fingers curled into fists.
Leo was sitting nearby, sharpening a talisman knife with calm precision. His eyes flicked up.
arathon, then gotten hit by a truck.
Madam He entered the room holding a cup of something steaming. It smelled like betrayal and bad decisions.
“Drink,” she said.
I obeyed.
It tasted like dirt and fire. I nearly choked.
“You’re awake.”
“Barely.”
“You talked in your sleep.”
“What did I say?”
He shrugged. “Something about doors and drowning. Pretty standard cursed-afterglow stuff.”
I sat up slowly. My whole body felt like it had run a m
“What the hell is in this?”
“Wolfsbane, mugwort, dried peach blossoms, and a splash of whiskey,” she said cheerfully. “You’ll live.”
Leo handed me the remnants of the scroll—now burned to ash and sealed inside a glass vial.
“For you,” he said.
I frowned. “Why would I want that?”
“Proof.”
“Of what?”
“That you survived.”
I held the vial in my hands. It was warm. Too warm.
“What happens now?” I asked.
Madam He raised an eyebrow. “That depends. Most people try to forget.”
“But I’m not most people.”
“Clearly.”
She sat across from me, her voice suddenly quiet. “The curse didn’t just try to kill you, Cici. It tried to *mirror* you. That’s rare. And dangerous. It means you carry something more than just guilt. You carry memory.”
“Memory of what?”
She smiled. “That’s not my story to tell.”
Leo spoke, voice low. “There’s something else you need to know. About the man who first gave Erin the jar.”
I stiffened. “What about him?”
“He’s still out there. And he didn’t create that curse by accident.”
My blood went cold.
“You’re telling me this was... targeted?”
Leo nodded. “I think it was meant for someone like you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know yet,” he said. “But I intend to find out.”
- Writer
