- Stacy -

“Priscilla, where’s Bridget?” I asked. I found Priscilla in Leslie’s room, being tormented by the succubus again.

“She should be in the kitchen. I left her in the care of the other maids,” Priscilla informed me, straightening her glasses.

“I already looked there. I’ll have to ask around then.” I shook my head. “You were supposed to keep an eye on her.” I turned to Leslie. “Punish this careless maid for me will you? I have to find Bridget.”

“Oh, my pleasure,” said Leslie, licking her lips.

Down in the kitchen, I found the girl Bridget was supposed to be working with. She was quietly washing dishes by herself, a young maid with short black hair.

“Maid,” I called out to her. She stopped what she was doing and turned to face me. “Where is Bridget?”

She seemed at a loss for words for a second, but then bowed her head. “She left to the temple, I believe.”

The temple? What was she doing there? I knew she wanted to visit the place, but would she just go on her own at the drop of a hat? I didn’t think she was the type.

“Was there someone with her? Why did she go to the temple?”

The girl just stared at me with frightened eyes. “Answer me,” I commanded, using Charm Humanoid.

She seemed to be in pain. “Please, Lady Stacy. She said she wanted to go. I don’t know why.”

I let it go. If the command hurt her, most likely it was in conflict with someone else’s spell. Someone was covering their tracks. My gut said Dante.

I left without another word, dashed across the courtyard, into the palace, up the stairs, and stumbled into the temple.

Bridget lay dead on the floor, her head flung across the room. Dagon was washing Haimorrha with her blood.

“That should appease him for now,” Dagon said, turning to face me. “Stacy, you should keep a better hold on your things. I hate to break something that’s yours, but she left me with no choice.”

“Why…?” I asked, falling to my knees.

“She defiled Haimorrha’s idol. She would have gotten off with a minor punishment, but… She seemed intent to spite our god.”

“So you killed her?”

“She’s not dead,” he said. “She’s one sturdy immortal.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Where is Dante?” I demanded, grief being replaced by anger.

“He was the one who reported the crime to me. His familiar was watching the temple.”

“He was the one who brought her to the temple in the first place,” I harshly retorted.

“Watch your tone,” Dagon scolded. “You are in the presence of our god.”

I ignored Dagon and ran out of the temple. Dante couldn’t have gotten far. This all must have happened only moments ago. Summon Familiar: Bats. I waved my hand, leaving a trail of shadow that took the form of several bats. They flew out in all different directions, and I ran down one of the hallways.

It didn’t take long to find him. I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back to the temple, pinning him to the floor at Haimorrha’s feet. Dagon eyed me curiously.

“What is happening?” complained the worm. “I demand to know the reason for this. I am a high priest of Haimorrha!”

“You tricked a girl into breaking our law and then pretend to have nothing to do with it. I’m the one demanding an explanation here, Dante!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he squirmed.

“I know you’re behind this, Dante. You will answer to Haimorrha.”

“I haven’t broken any law. You have no right to question me like this. We are equal rank!”

“He’s right, Stacy. Release him. He is a high priest of Haimorrha,” Dagon commanded, and I reluctantly complied.

Dante sneered at me as he got back to his feet.

So he just gets away with it? Just like that? I silently prayed to Haimorrha.

As if to answer my prayer, Dagon continued. “We can ask Bridget’s side of the story once she wakes up. Then we can hold a proper trial.

Dante’s eyes widened. “But she’s dead, Lord Dagon. You killed her. Beheaded her! Even an immortal shouldn’t…”

“A true immortal can,” Dagon spoke. “She isn’t a lesser immortal like us vampires. It’s a rare gift.”

In the end, Dante was allowed to go free. He wasn’t to leave the castle though, not until his trial. And Bridget was taken to the dungeon to recover.

- Bridget -

I had a strange dream. I was in a prison cell, looking over my dead body. It was chained to a wall, lying on a bed of straw. My head was detached from my body. I remember thinking I was finally dead. I thought it would make me happy, but I didn’t feel anything.

A few people visited my cell. Mostly guards. But there was also the red-haired man, and Stacy.

Stacy looked at my body with sadness in her eyes, sometimes anger. I wondered who that anger was directed at. Then I realized the obvious truth. She was angry at me.

When I woke up, I was in the same cell that I saw in my dream. Standing on the other side of a set of iron bars was the red-haired man. “So you’re finally awake,” he spoke.

“Where am I?” I asked, sitting up.

“You’re in the dungeon of our castle. Do you remember why you’re here?”

Memories of last night surfaced in my mind. “Yeah… sorry.” Wait, was it last night? “How long was I out?”

“Only about a day. Luckily your head was able to reattach to your body. If it wasn’t for that it would have taken you a lot longer to recover.” He paused for a moment, stroking his bearded chin. “I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Dagon, Patriarch of the Haimorrha religion.”

“So what happens now?”

“You’ll be held here until you’ve paid for your sins against Haimorrha.” Dagon opened my cell door and stepped inside. “Why don’t we take care of that right now actually? I’ll take today’s payment for you.”

Dagon held a hand in front of himself. A sudden ache took root in every inch of my body, like my skin was peeling off. I screamed, and blood began to seep out of my skin, swirling in the air and collecting into an orb floating above Dagon’s palm. Every inch of my skin was left bruised from shattered capillaries. Somehow I managed to hang on to consciousness, groaning in agonizing pain.

“Please,” I gasped through the pain, “I’m sorry. Just kill me, please.” I begged him to kill me. It was too much. I couldn’t handle this. The pain was worse than when the lowlifes fed on me. I couldn’t quite say it was the worst pain in my life though, that would go to the centipede. I wiped tears away from my eyes, and saw the tears were made of blood.

He almost looked sorry for me. “I would if I knew how. If you’d like, I could render you unconscious instead. Before that, there’s something I need to ask you. I should have asked you this before beheading you, but I let my anger get the best of me.”

“What is it?” I asked when he paused, my voice quivering.

“Why did you wash the idol?”

That was right. Dante was the one who told me to go to the Temple! He’s the one who told me to clean the place! How was I supposed to know I wasn’t supposed to clean the statue? I’ve been set up! I tried to say all this, but the words caught in my throat. I choked and coughed. What the hell? Why couldn’t I tell him it was Dante? I mean sure it was my decision to dump the bucket on the statue, and I shouldn’t have done that, but…

“It was my decision,” I found myself saying. It was all I could say. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth. I couldn’t tell the truth. I couldn’t betray him. Why?

“I see,” said Dagon, turning to leave. “That’s not what I expected to hear.”