Chapter 49 The Witch and The Bride
The chamber welcomed her weakening body. Ingrid knelt in front of her and grabbed her cheeks. "Please, Madame... d-don't. Don't let him hurt me... he is just using you." she whispered, begging for a chance to escape.
Its bricked walls were too narrow, too close, almost suffocating the suffering souls inside.
Torchlight flickered against the damp stones
The woman’s grip was hard, her jaw tightening in fury. She has an incredible strength for her age as though she had done this many times before. Perhaps she had.
Gertrude tried to struggle, but her limbs felt distant, sluggish, as if her body no longer fully belonged to her. She almost gag when the head mistress disgusted over her. Her pulse thundered in her ears. Each step echoed like a it is the beginning of the ending.
Gertrude shut her eyes as he started hearing the whimpering of the poor girls just beneath the bricks. They must be somewhere near...
"W-What did you do to them?" she panicked.
“Please,” she rasped, her voice barely a sound. “They’re innocent. They don’t know anything.”
Ingrid did not answer. "Madame Ingrid... this isn't you! Please, come back to us... save us!" she pleaded.
The head mistress chuckled, "That is not my my name, sweetheart. And I hate to be the bearer of bad news but... no one will save you. Your beloved Constantine is, for the first time ever, enjoying his sleep. He liked the desert that I offered him."
Her eyes widened. Her ears rang. "W-What did you say?" she couldn't believe.
"What did you do to him?! He trusted you!" she snapped.
"I trusted you... everyone did..."she whispered, her strength betraying her.
"After all those years of pretending... at long last, we will be able to taste the victory. Do you know what it tastes like? Huh, Trudy?" She heard the cold hard chains wrapping around her feet and wrists. But the more she fights back, the more it hurts.
"It tastes like the dust and rust of this manor. It tastes like the sea... the moon... the stars and most of all, it tastes like you and your man's blood." Every words hits like a dramatic monologue.
"Look at me... what do you see," the woman rhymed.
"No...no--- stop it already!" Trudy shakes her head, lips quivering.
"This is the real me, Gertrude. Once upon a time, I was called Helga."
Helga...
It was Guillaume's lover. The one who turned Constantine into a cold-blooded monster.
"You are seeing the truth with your fortunate eyes. It will cost you not much... just like what happened with Lila..."
"It was your fault? She did nothing wrong!"
"Wrong is sailing back to the town to spread news she heard in this manor! But, she is behaved now, like a good girl she is supposed to be..."
"Why are you doing this..." Gertrude whispered to thin air, almost out of breath.
"Guillaume lost everything... I lost him. But we lived... longer and longer enough to witness Haugen manor came to life."
"And the c-cathedral?"
"It was never gone. It was not swallowed by the sea. It stayed with us. And you are in the sacredness of the cathedral. Right now." her last words were spoken to a whisper, as if seducing her mind.
"Haugen manor is the old cathedral? I d-don't understand..."
"Time is our saviour, Gertrude. Time tells, gives, and provides. Now, we will retrieve what is ours, this land, the people, blood, your soul--- everything!"
She gasped, while the head mistress cackled. "You are a fucking witch!" she whimpered, hiding her fears beneath her ivory skin and rosy lips. She spontaneously shook her head, disagreeing to believe that the woman who once an angel in her eyes is undying and villainous.
"And you are a hypocrite! You are nothing but like those bunch of hell spawn who tried to burn me! But now, it will be your turn..."
The head mistress dragged her all the way to the damp and dank cell, locking her in, all chained up. Candle flames are burning low and blue, casting an eerie glow. She winced when she saw the bodies laid out on stone slabs. One by one, Gertrude recognized them.
Anamaria. Sylvia. Nora Lane. Mary Kate. Amalie. Freya, Adaline... and the youngest, Clarina's rotting body. While the other girls lay motionless--- mouth foaming, fingers twitching, eyes half-closed.
“No…” Gertrude whispered, straining, before Helga yanked her back.
Her chest throbs even faster, her anxiety sliding in her veins, eating her up.
Trudy looks a mess in her maid uniform, but still, just like Snow White, even looking ragged, it cannot hide her beauty and grace. While Ingrid stood tall, she looked regal in her burgundy gown and sleek updo, her posture immaculate.
"Now, now, stay here for a while and enjoy the moment. Talk to the girls, will you?" the head mistress insulted and left the room until her footsteps echoed away.
She strained, trying to loosen the chains but it was no use. When it all went silent, she heaved a deep breath and screamed like a mad person. "HELP! CONSTANTINE! ANYBODY! PLEASE!"
Ahead, a door waited tall, arched, carved with symbols she is not familiar of. Something lurks in the shadow... but she is not sensing any danger.
"Constantine..." her screams turned into a hopeless whisper. Calling for the name of her sanctuary.
She gulped, counting how many times she had been deceived by the shapeshifting of Guillaume, pretending to be her lover. He is like a venom that invades the mind and soul of a weakling.
"Sshh..." she heard a comforting voice in the dark. She looked up, her heart beats twice the speed... she want to trust that it is the real Constantine.
The creature snarled up to her direction, eyes raging. If only he could burn already for what goes in his hellish mind, he will. "Gertrude," he pitied her condition.
He reached for her but she looked away, "You're not him. You're not my Constantine. Get away from me!" she fought back, her eyes all swollen, her cheek turned red.
"Nonsense. Do not make a noise, or else, the plan would not work."
"How would I know if you're telling the truth? How would I believe you?!"
His eyes gazed on her wounded wrists and ankles, with the rusty metal of the chains scraping her skin. Without a word, Constantine grabbed her shoulders and attacked her with a kiss--- sending thousands of unspoken thoughts and emotions back to her. He deepens the kiss, nibbling her hesitant lips.
His hand guides her jaw, tightening his grip on her cheeks as he whisper, "I am Constantine, alright? You will believe me when I say that you always want me to turn you into my kind... and tonight, I am thinking of following your order if only you believe in me."