Thud! Thud!
The stone that had kept her in constant dread suddenly hurtled forward, striking the journal and sending it tumbling.
"AHH~!"
Mary shrieked in panic as the stone was hurled at her. Raising her arm to defend herself, she froze—a radiant, glowing mark had bloomed upon her left wrist. "H-Huh?!" The maiden tried frantically to rub the shimmering light from her left wrist, yet her efforts were entirely in vain.
"Lord... what hath befallen me?"
As she whipped her left arm back and forth, she realized to her horror that the stones shifted in tandem with the movements of her hand. Mary's eyes dilated with sheer terror, and before long, the blood-curdling shriek of a terrified maiden echoed throughout the cottage.
Jezibella sat reading her book while Mrs. Bishop was away from home. Annoyed by the commotion, she covered her ears in sheer irritation.
"Curse it all!"
She rose and cracked the door open, only to find Marilyn standing with her back turned.
"What aileth thee? Hast thou seen a phantom?"
Mary's body was trembling violently, as though gripped by a freezing ague. Sensing that something was terribly wrong, Jezibel stepped forward and touched her shoulder.
In that very instant, Mary turned her face around, and Jezibel saw dark blood streaming down from her right eye.
"Eek~!!" Jezibel instantly yanked her hand back.
"Jezibella... I know not what is happening to me. I beseech thee... I beseech thee, help me!!"
Beholding Mary's uncanny state, Jezibel snatched a blade to defend herself. "Stand back, thou witch! Or I shall run thee through!"
"No! No! 'Tis thy sister! I am merely sick... Jezibel.., listen to me first!"
Mary raised her hands, even as her left eye began to emit a terrifying, petunia-violet glow.
"P-Please, lower thy blade... let us speak..." Marilyn tried desperately to regain her composure, for Jezibel was pointing the dagger right at her chest.
"Command me not!" Jezibel's hand trembled wildly as she pointed the blade at Marilyn's face. "In the depths of thy heart, thou hast ever wished to be rid of me too, hast thou not, Mary?! For I fed thee that foul brew to end thy life, yet thou wouldst not perish! Thou didst steal all love away from me the moment that old fool brought thee to this hearth... That alone was more than enough to drive me mad!! Soon noble mother shall learn of what I have done... Thus, I shall use this hour to hide thy corpse where none shall ever find it!"
She broke into a tearful, unhinged laugh.
"Hah... Hah... Furthermore, Mary, thou shalt finally be delivered from thy suffering! No longer must thou sit wiping away another's filth and strain! In the end, thou shalt thank this sister of thine! HYAH!"
Jezibel raised her arm, preparing to strike. Mary stood frozen, accepting her grim fate, yet she felt no pain whatsoever. Instead, Jezibel tumbled onto her knees before her, raising a smiling face up toward her elder sister. Jezibel's eyes sparkled as though placed under a spell.
"Farewell... Mary."
She drove the sharp blade into the floorboards before throwing her body down upon it.
"Jezibel! NAY~~~!!!"
Mary raised her hand to stop her, but everything transpired far too fast to control.
SLASH!
"(Gasp... cough!) M-Mary... I... wish not to... d-die..."
The brown-haired maiden lay motionless upon the floor as Mary fell to her knees, cradling the body of the sister who had intentionally taken her own life. The lingering gaze of spite still stared fixedly into the face of the sister who was broken in both body and soul.
"Jezibel..."
Marilyn gently closed her eyes. Though no shared blood bound them, Marilyn had ever cherished and loved her as true family.
Before she could even mourn, a loud pounding shattered the quiet
CRASH!
"What hath transpired in there, Mary?! Jezibel?!" The townsfolk pounded on the door, calling out in alarm.
"Run, Mary~" an unknown voice commanded, compelling Mary to lay Jezibel's lifeless body down. "RUN!!"
At the sound of the roaring command, she bolted back into the bedroom, packing her belongings and the journal into her satchel. The maiden leapt from the wooden window sill and fled into the deep forest without looking back.
A thick curtain of mist shrouded the realm of Caslette like poisonous vapors. She made her way toward the heretical chapel, the sole sanctuary where she might seek refuge. The biting cold wind left her gasping in utter exhaustion.
"I am sorry... I am sorry..."
"There is no need," a mysterious lady voice spoke, soothing her frantic mind.
"Who goes there?! Who art thou?! What dost thou seek from me?!" Mary spoke to the empty air, sweeping her eyes across her surroundings.
Amidst the mist-drenched woods, there was no way such a echoing whisper could be heard by her alone.
"Show thyself!" The lorn maiden wiped the bloody tears from her face. The more she wept, the more blood she bled.
"I am as the sound of thine own voice... thy memories and thy deepest subconscious. Seek strength first." The cold whisper used soft, gentle words to pull Mary back from descending into the same madness that took Jezibel.
"Thou art the one who slew her! Thou didst took my sister!" The maiden argued with herself like one driven mad.
"I did it to protect thee... and to protect myself as well."
"(Cough! Cough!)"
The low atmospheric pressure left Mary panting for air, while sheer terror caused her to collapse against the trunk of a tree.
"I... I cannot breathe... (gasp!)"
"Thou hast exerted more strength than thy mortal frame can bear. Force thyself no further; rest now, and reflect upon all that hath come to pass."
The whispering maiden gently closed Mary's eyes, as though she had been by her side all along.
When the maiden regained consciousness once more, she found herself beneath the very same apple tree, holding the journal in her hands.
New lines of script had been inscribed upon the parchment behind page 576—the final entry.
- It was never a fairy tale from the very start -