The candle Phoebe carried flickered slightly as a gentle night breeze passed between them.
"She must sense something's different…"
Phoebe murmured under her breath, though she didn't sound surprised.
Seth didn't reply towards Phoebe murmuring to herself.
He straightened up and looked at the dog, who was still trembling behind the post.
A strange emptiness settled in his chest as he lowered his hood slightly to breathe in the cold night air.
Phoebe turned away and walked up the stone steps towards the front door.
"Come inside."
She said, her voice sounding out softly.
"You need to wash up. I'll prepare a futon for you to sleep in. I'll lend you my father's old clothes."
"There should be some soup and rice left at the kitchen... you can eat them after you shower."
Seth followed her silently.
As he stepped onto the wooden porch, he looked back once more at Bella.
The little dog was still hiding, her tail curled tight around her body.
Phoebe pushed open the wooden door, revealing a dimly lit interior.
The house smelled of dried herbs and old wood.
Clay pots lined the narrow hallway, and bundles of lavender and rosemary hung from the ceiling beams.
"Leave your shoes here."
Phoebe said softly as she slipped off her black boots and stepped onto the polished wooden floor.
Seth did as told, leaving his worn sandals by the door.
The wooden floor felt cold against his bare feet as he followed her inside.
She led him down the narrow hallway into a small bathing room.
A wooden tub sat in the corner, steam gently rising from the water.
"I'll bring you some clothes."
Phoebe said, setting down the candle on a low stool.
"Wash up first. You… smell like grave soil."
Her voice was gentle, but Seth could hear the exhaustion in it.
She left him alone, closing the door shut behind him.
Seth stood there in silence.
He stared at his reflection in the small bronze mirror nailed to the wall.
A pale, young face stared back at him.
Dark circles sat under his unfamiliar eyes, and his hair was a messy black that fell into his face.
His skin looked almost translucent under the dim candlelight.
He slowly raised a hand to touch his cheek.
'This isn't my face…'
His fingers trembled slightly.
The last thing he remembered was the knife in his stomach, his girlfriend's tear-streaked face, and the bitter taste of blood in his mouth...
'And now… I'm here.'
He clenched his fist tightly, feeling his nails bite into his palm.
Taking a deep breath, he stripped off the grave-stained clothes and stepped into the tub.
The hot water burned at first, but soon a shiver ran down his spine as warmth spread through his cold, stiff body.
Dirt and dried blood floated to the surface, swirling around him before sinking to the bottom...
Seth leaned back, closing his eyes.
'Just what kind of world have I woken up in…'
After washing up and eating the soup the was given to him, Seth returned to the living room where Phoebe had prepared a futon for him.
The room looked ordinary, with wooden shelves lined with ceramic cups and woven baskets stacked neatly in the corner.
Hanging on the walls were framed pictures of Phoebe's family...
One showed a younger Phoebe smiling beside a woman who looked just like her, and another showed her standing beside a tall girl with the same wavy hair.
'She said she only lives with her mother and sister'
Seth thought as he sat down on the futon, staring blankly at the dimly lit room.
'I guess that means her father has divorced her mother… or is dead…'
He lay down on the futon, clutching the thin blanket that she had given him.
His chest tightened with each shallow breath.
'How can I go home…'
His thoughts were interrupted as a pillow landed on his chest.
Phoebe stood nearby, tossing a folded blanket towards him.
"Rest well for tonight."
She said softly, though her eyes looked distant.
"You're probably under a lot of confusion. It's best to get a good night's sleep for now."
Seth nodded, mumbling a quiet thanks before laying his head down.
The futon felt thin and firm under his back, the faint scent of herbs clinging to the fabric.
He closed his eyes, though sleep did not come easily.
There were still a lot of things he had to think about.
As Phoebe entered her room and turned off the lights, darkness swallowed the small living room.
Just as Seth's mind drifted into restless half-sleep, a familiar voice sounded out faintly within him.
[Processing of Sin has been completed.]
His fingers twitched at the cold mechanical voice.
…
Inside Phoebe's room, the air smelled of dried herbs and bitter chemicals.
The room was cramped and messy, with shelves cluttered by glass bottles containing strange colored liquids.
Small knives lay scattered across her desk, their blades stained with dried dark residue.
Wooden carvings of unknown symbols were stacked in corners, some half-finished and others cracked.
Phoebe sat at her desk, hunched over a piece of parchment lit by a small oil lamp.
The kind and gentle expression she showed Seth was gone, replaced with a serious, worried look.
Her eyes flicked back and forth as her quill scratched rapidly across the paper.
"To my Esteemed Mentor, Danica.
A month ago, when you told me that a deep chaotic sin had invaded Seth Arden's body, you instructed me to deal with it and properly end his life before he succumbed to madness and harmed others.
I delayed it in hopes that he could recover, After all, he is still a friend of mine.
But as the days passed, he grew stranger and stranger.
Sometimes he would write with his right hand, even though he was left-handed.
Other times he would eat over ten meals in a day and still say he was hungry.
There were even moments where he would call his sister by different names.
Just as you warned, I did not inform any of the authorities or the covens near us.
I feared that they would investigate us, as we are connected to Seth.
We are after all, sinners in the hiding...
A few days ago, I informed his sister of the plan to end his life. She agreed.
Even she could not bear to see her brother suffer and transform into something monstrous.
The plan was carried out smoothly. We ended his life without any commotion.
His sister and I continued forging the story to neighbors that he went abroad to hide the truth.
When I buried him three days ago, I used the ancient headstone you gave me to signify that he had long been laid to rest.
I had also consumed the sins that were inside his body in order to alleviate my current powers.
I even wrote his true name to prevent resurrection of the dead.
But now… my peril lies within the fact that he is alive.
Seth Arden, the one we killed only days ago, suddenly reanimated.
He seems to have forgotten all his memories and cannot recall anything.
I do not know how he will react if he finds out we were the ones who killed him.
In fact, I do not know if the current Seth that has awoken is a demon or a monster that can kill me at anytime...
For now, I have accommodated him in my house and have pretended to be a normal person.
I have not told him about my powers or that I am a witch yet...
He has not shown any signs of aggression… but I am afraid.
Please… tell me what to do next.
Sincerely, your sinful student,
Phoebe."
She finished writing and set down her quill with a trembling hand.
Her dark eyes stared blankly at the flickering oil lamp, its small flame reflecting in her face which was gravely serious.
Outside, in the quiet living room, Seth lay awake in the darkness.
His eyes were open, staring up at the shadowed ceiling, unaware of the letter that could decide his fate.