Villainess 1: Janet’s First Retry

Red Pill 4: Visions, Deaths

Janet covered her gaping mouth with her hands as the vision in the mirror dissipated from view, replaced with spectral clones of herself all standing around her in the reflection, all of them with expectant looks on their faces, all of them looking at their one living example in this life. So Janet walked along the bathroom stalls pushing doors open and found no magician there, then turned the other way and checked under the countertop sinks and saw no magic seals there. Then she turned back to the mirror, where she saw all of her clones, and said, “What’s going on? That vision, what was that?”

“That’s how I died,” one clone said and waved her hand towards the rest of the clones. “And that’s just one of the deaths suffered under the epithet of Janet Fleming.”

So another clone in an Academy uniform, “I was poisoned at school during the midterm exams,” and she pulled down the collar of her bolero, showing the blue veins in her neck full of poisoned blood.

Then another clone wearing a ball gown with bloodstains on her bodice said, “And I was stabbed to death after attending the graduation party at Prince Blaise’s mansion.”

“Then I’ll change my name and flee,” Janet said.

“It’s not that simple,” another clone said, wearing a soiled linen gown draped over her emaciated body. “I escaped incognito before the graduation party with the help of my father, but I was captured and imprisoned days later. I heard my father petitioned the high court for my release, but when the authorities found out he helped in my escape, he was tried and imprisoned, while I died of starvation in prison.”

Yet another clone in similar attire but with a noose around her neck and rope burns under the nape of her neck also added, “I escaped the kingdom incognito with my father’s help but was later mistaken for another criminal who looked just like me and was hanged in another country.”

“Then I’ll have the Prince banish me,” she said.

And yet another clone in commoner dress with a gunshot wound to her chest said, “Prince Blaise banished me at the graduation party, so I left the kingdom and lived as a commoner for a year, till a group of bandits killed me in a robbery.”

“Then I’ll fake my own death,” she said.

And still another clone in a soiled linen gown said, “I tried doing that during the midterm exams with my father’s help, but my ploy was found out, and the Prince accused me of treason and had me imprisoned. My father petitioned the high court, but the King denied his petition and allowed Prince Blaise to question me. I heard rumors that my father died in an accident soon afterwards, but I don’t know if that’s true or not. All I know was that Prince Blaise had me executed a week later,” and she took off her head from her shoulders in both hands and showed it to Janet in the mirror. “See?”

Janet’s stomach retched at the sight, and she dashed into one of the toilet stalls and threw up in the toilet bowl, where the stench of last night’s dinner made her hurl once more. After that, she wiped away the remainder of the bile on the sleeve of her bolero and got up on wobbly knees. She leaned against the jamb of the stall with one hand and looked back at the mirror and saw all of her clones crowding around herself in the reflection, till one by one, they manifested bodily around her in their astral forms.

“My God, how many times have I died?” she said.

“None of us know,” Janet’s suicide clone said. “We can’t even make a guess out of the headcount with us right now.”

“Then how did the rest of you die?” Janet said.

And with that, more of Janet’s clones told her how they had come to their demise, each one dying of different causes, each dying under the auspices of some ungodly fate. Yet the more Janet listened to their stories, and the more she inquired into the causes of their deaths, the more Janet came to realize that they all had one thing in common: all of their deaths came under the influence of Rosalie Edgeworth.

“My God, this can’t be happening,” Janet said under her breath, looking at all of her clones in the mirror and peering at her own living and breathing self like a lamb headed for the slaughterhouse. “I’ll break off my engagement. That vixen can have his Highness all to herself. I don’t care anymore. I’ll be gone from this kingdom by tonight and—”

“Do you think running away will keep you alive?” her suicide clone said.

“What do you expect me to do then?” Janet shot back. “Prepare for my own death? If that vixen has everything (Prince Blaise, everyone’s love, the queenship of this kingdom), then why do I always have to die? It’s not fair!” And she cried again, heading towards another bathroom sink and leaning against the countertop.

So, one by one, all of Janet’s clones crowded around her and hugged her, commiserating with her under the collective fate of the Grim Reaper looming over them all.

And little by little, Janet regained her composure once again, taking deep breaths and exhaling them through her mouth and looked up from the countertop, leaving the drops of her tears there. To all of her doubles, she said, “What do I do?”

“Rely on us,” Janet’s hanged and emaciated clone said. “We all died alone during each of our own deaths—”

“—but you won’t be alone this time around,” Janet’s executed clone added. “For you have us with you now—”

“—and we’ll do what we can to help you,” Janet’s poisoned clone added. “You can count on it!”

“But in order for us to help you,” Janet’s suicide clone added, “we need you to trust us, because there’s something connecting each of us besides Miss Edgeworth causing our deaths, but we don’t know what that is yet.”

Janet stared at her suicide self, wondering about the import of her words, and said, “Did you gather everyone here?”

“Yes,” she said. “Out of everyone here, I was the only one who took my own life. Somehow that allowed me to traverse the lives of the other Janets here who have died under circumstances outside of their control, and I’ve been gathering them since my own passing. But all of the ones you see now are the ones who have died after me. God knows how many went before me.”

“Aren’t there more of you?” Janet said, remembering last night’s dream in the Student Commons Town. “I remember seeing hundreds of you in my dream.”

“That’s where you come in,” her suicide clone said. “Unlike me, you are alive, and when I looked into your dream last night, I saw the rest of them, as well. I know this is asking a lot from you, but will you help us find the rest?”

“But what can I do?” Janet said.

Then all of her clones smiled mischievous smiles, and one of them said, “You love ghost stories, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Then we’ll spread them around,” her decapitated clone said. “We’ll use your infamy to our advantage and make everyone fear you, including that damn vixen!”

“Oh, hell yes,” said the poisoned clone. “She’ll be wetting herself in her bed with nightmares of you!”

“But,” Janet said, “won’t that make her want to kill me?”

“Not if she thinks killing you,” another clone said, “will make your ghost haunt her for the rest of her life.”

“But it’s my life!” Janet said.

“She’s right, everyone,” her suicide clone said. “Taking my own life is one thing, but I won’t have someone else’s blood on my hands. Is that clear?”

The rest of the clones traded glances with one another, and one by one, they all nodded their heads.

“Then how will we do this?” another clone said.

“We’ll start off with you, Janet,” the suicide clone said, looking at her living avatar. “Is there anything about you that we should know?”

“What do you mean?” Janet said.

“Besides being alive,” her clone said, “is there anything else that distinguishes you from us?”

“I don’t know,” Janet said, looking at all of her clones in turn around her, but then she had a brainwave and put her hand to her chest and felt the amulet there, so she fished it out and showed it to her spectral doubles. “Do you have this?”

Janet’s clones looked at it and shook their heads, and her suicide clone said, “What is it?”

“A good luck charm,” Janet said. “Father gave it to me yesterday and told me to wear it whenever I come to school. So I’m wearing it now.”

“Do you think it works?” her clone said.

“Maybe?” Janet said.

“Then has anything bad happened to you today?”

Janet remembered Lady Childeron and Lady Felton setting her up this morning, as well as Prince telling her she was dead to him, but compared to her companions, she got off scot-free. So she said, “Yeah, but it wasn’t too bad. I mean, I didn’t jump to my death, or get shot or poisoned or stabbed.”

Her clones all traded knowing glances, and her suicide clone said, “Then keep it with you, and don’t lose it. Okay, Janet, this is how it’ll go. . . .”

To Be Continued