Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Again. The temple was empty again.

The moment she opened her eyes, the same desolate sight unfolded before her.

Sian took a deep breath, recalling the vow she had made the day before.

Forty-five days of penance. This was the first day.

Unlike the nightmare of the previous day, where she had at least woken up in her own room, this time she opened her eyes in the middle of the corridor.

The corridor was silent, and every single door along the walls stood wide open. Seeing nothing but empty rooms beyond them no longer surprised her.

First it was holy water, then insects and bizarre vines. What will it be this time?

With the thought that it might be better to face it quickly and end it, she ran down the corridor. Her footsteps echoed loudly through the hollow space. Tak, tak, tak. The vast emptiness carried a strange loneliness, mingled with a creeping dread. Sian hated it. Even knowing it was an illusion crafted by Actarachion, the fear still gripped her.

So she ran, as if fleeing.

When she passed through a large reception hall, the eerie silence was broken, whether by luck or misfortune, by someone addressing her.

“If you run like that, you’ll only get caught.”

There was only one person in these illusions who ever spoke to her. At the familiar voice, Sian froze.

In the center of the reception hall, Actarachion sat on a long sofa. Even within this illusion, he was impeccably dressed.

A navy double breasted suit striped with white, a neatly folded handkerchief tucked into the breast pocket. His eyes were lowered elegantly, his legs crossed, a book resting on his knee, his posture relaxed.

His air of complete composure made even this grotesque place seem like nothing more than a game. Which, of course, it was to him. This was something he had set up for his own amusement.

Still, his presence eased the fear that had clutched Sian’s heart, softened the loneliness. A familiar face in an unfamiliar space. It even brought her a faint sense of relief. She found herself walking toward him with a hint of joy that made her feel like she’d be okay, even if he was the one behind this.

“Judging by how calm you are, you haven’t run into it yet, have you?”

Without lifting his eyes, he spoke.

“Run into what? Is it like last time, with the worshippers crowding the chapel?”

“That would be far too boring.”

Then something else was waiting here. Something meant to amuse him.

That doesn’t sound good, she was about to reply, when—

Creak.

A sound, like an old rocking chair. Sian turned toward the wide open doorway of the hall.

Creak… creeeak.

The scraping grew sharper, less like wood and more like metal dragging across the floor.

Krrrk, creeeak.

The screech of iron or glass being dragged echoed from somewhere deep in the corridor.

“You’re not going to hide?”

The soft flutter of a page turning mixed with his calm voice. He sounded as if he were watching from afar, detached from it all.

His indifference made Sian feel a fresh wave of loneliness and an added chill of dread.

Krrrk, thud, creeeak, kreeeee.

The dragging grew louder, punctuated by dull thumps, as if accompanied by footsteps. It didn’t take long for Sian to realize that it was exactly that.

She rushed to the door of the hall and slammed it shut, locking it fast.

Screeeee, tatatatat!

Something outside ran at the door. At once, she regretted it. The sound of the lock must have drawn it closer. I should have stayed hidden, like he said.

But it wasn’t too late.

Glancing around in panic, Sian ducked behind the large sofa opposite the door.

Bang!

The door shuddered violently, as if struck with a massive blunt weapon.

Flattening herself to the floor, Sian trembled. Her muscles cramped from the strain of holding herself rigid, her breath shallow and forced. What on earth has he set loose in here? She dared not imagine.

Something that was the opposite of “boring” and that she needed to hide from. It would certainly be just as bad as thousands of insects.

The thought that it would soon force its way in made her tongue curl back in her throat. Even reminding herself that it was only an illusion couldn’t dispel the fear. She held her breath, paralyzed by dread of the unknown.

But after that first thunderous impact, the pounding stopped.

Did it leave?

In the uncanny silence of the hall, she heard the soft flutter of another page turning.

She remembered he was still there.

Carefully, she peeked out.

He sat only a few meters away from the sofa where she hid, in the same position as before, reading with complete serenity and turning the pages as if none of this had anything to do with him.

Her chest tightened with a useless sense of injustice. I’m trembling in fear like this, and he doesn’t even care enough to watch me…

Crash! Bang! Bang, bang, crash!

As if to punish her moment of distraction, the pounding began again with renewed fury. The thick wooden door groaned and split, unable to hold. Through the cracks burst the gleam of rusted metal.

A murderer with a blade!

Stifling a scream, Sian pressed herself hard against the back of the sofa.

Bang, bang! Crack, crunch, thud, screeeech, boom.

The door finally gave way under repeated blows, splitting apart.

Tak, tak, tak. The footsteps that followed inside were lighter than she expected, but accompanied by that sickening scrape.

A coppery stench filled the air, sharp with rust or blood.

Sian clamped a hand over her mouth so tightly she almost strangled herself. Her heart hammered at her throat.

Tak, tak, screeech, tak, creeeeak.

The mismatched rhythm of footsteps and dragging metal filled the hall.

Her stomach lurched with nausea from the tension.

Then, abruptly, the thing outside stopped moving.

And over the silence, a page turned. Calm. Unhurried.

What about him? The thought struck her suddenly. It was absurd to worry about him inside his own illusion, but the question still rose.

He’s fine, of course. That’s why he’s just sitting there.

Her thoughts strayed for a moment.

Thud!

A massive blade punched through the sofa where she hid, missing her by inches. Before her eyes, the rust-caked edge of a giant axe split the thick cushion clean in two.

“Hhhk!”

Her muffled scream was swallowed back down her throat. Still shaking, she scrambled away.

The axe blade that was missing several small chunks, tore free with a sickening rip, then slammed down again right where she had just been.

Whoever it was, they were aiming straight for her.

Her legs trembled. Even knowing it was an illusion or nightmare, she couldn’t keep calm. She had been threatened before when Dion had once pressed a blade to her neck, but this was different. This was pure malice, pursuit without reason. Primal terror gripped her.

Without daring to look, Sian bolted, darting around the sofa and out through the shattered doorway.

Tak, tak, screeech. The pursuer followed at a steady pace. The dragging weight of the axe slowed them and gave an impression of almost leisure. That slowness gave her the tiniest window to look back.

And what she saw stunned her.

The one wielding the axe was a woman. Slender, with long silver hair…

Was there a mirror in this hall?

Her brain struggled to process it. Am I dreaming? Well, yes, it’s an illusion, so it’s a kind of dream… but still, this is too cruel a dream.

Two pairs of eyes, the same color, locked together.

The figure chasing her was identical to her. Her own face, her own body, carrying a massive axe and trying to kill her. Her thoughts froze. It was so absurd that her mind simply stopped working.

She stared, dumbfounded, as her own likeness slowly advanced, axe raised.

“In a situation like this, you dare let your mind wander?”

Another page turned with a soft flutter. It felt completely unrelated. A strange peace. His voice was calm, detached, as if to jolt her awake.

The doppelgänger raised the axe high.

“Aaahhh!”

Sian screamed and flung herself aside. The axe came down on the broken door with a crash. Its sluggish speed made it possible to dodge. After all, it shared her own form so it couldn’t possess overwhelming strength.

Crack, crunch. The fractured wood clung stubbornly to the rusted blade.

At that moment, Sian ran with all her might down the corridor.

The steady pursuit behind her pressed her on. She knew she wasn’t going very fast, but she was still terrified. That dragging, scraping sound seemed to shove her forward, prickling her spine.

Panic drove her legs. Her breath came in gasps. She couldn’t keep running forever. She needed a place to hide.

But the temple’s spaces were wide and sparse, with little furniture. Few rooms even had curtains. The only place she’d hidden successfully before was behind that sofa.

She considered crawling under a bed, but dismissed it quickly. If she were found, escape would be nearly impossible. The narrow space would trap her. Worse, if the axe came down from above, she would be split in two. The same went for hiding beneath a table.

Panting heavily, she turned into another reception hall. Three doors stood open, leaving the space exposed.

No safe hiding spot. But she could run no further. She pressed her back against the wall beside the far door, breathing hard.

The sound of pursuit was still distant.

What now? I can’t just keep running forever.

Her mind raced. In previous nightmares, she had only awakened after being drowned in holy water or ensnared by vines until she lost consciousness.

So this time too… will it end only when I’m struck down by that axe?

“…”

She quietly pinched her cheek. The soft give of her skin and the sharp sting of pain felt vividly, horribly real.

Yes.

In this nightmare, this illusion, every sensation was as clear and precise as reality itself.