Chapter 7

7

WINIFRED CHAPEL

T his time, when I awaken, I know precisely what pulled me out of my deep, heavy, dreamless slumber:

I'm alone.

Everything else is slow to register—like the woods and soft gray light of morning, and the smoke trickling into the air and the flakes of ash raining down on me like snow.

Like the realization that I'm naked, and covered in dried smears of blood that make my limbs feel stiff as I unfurl and climb to a stand. Every inch I can see has evidence confirming what happened last night was in fact real.

Ophelia couldn't have gone far.

She wouldn't just leave me here… right?

A flashing image of black eyes and the ghost of a sinister smile surge forth, and my stomach drops.

Not only am I confused…

And not just because reason would have me chalk it off as a trick of light…

But because if her eyes really were swallowed up by her pupils, that should've been enough to stop me. How did I let it get that far…

Why…

And then I remember.

"We were brought here for a reason."

"We need to close the door."

Eyes wide, I whip around, chest heaving as I look for some kind of indication as to whether or not it worked. Did we put things right?

"By letting us fuck you? Is that the excuse you're going to go with, little bunny?"

I freeze, everything in me solidifying at the crystal clear voice coming from inside me.

My breaths stutter in and out of me as I shakily grab my discarded, blood and dirt-streaked nightgown from the ground.

I tug it back on, wincing when my fingers get caught on knots and twigs in my hair.

Save for the blanket, there's nothing else here. Where Ophelia's clothes are…I have no idea.

But seeing as she's gone…she probably put them back on and left.

"Sure about that?"

I stiffen.

"Who are you?" I find myself whispering, my vision blurring.

"I am you and you are me and we are she."

And it— she laughs. Only this time it's not slipping through the woods, or even just a whisper through my head… it's part of me. I can feel my throat squeeze with the sound.

No…

Nononono—

Did Ophelia trick me?

Did she pass her… curse or whatever onto me?

Is this her revenge?

"Listen."

I frown, but catch myself doing as the voice instructs.

There, in the not too far distance, I hear the rush of water. And my confusion and unease only heighten when I realize I didn't hear it last night.

"Go."

I don't even get a second to debate whether or not to do as the voice commands before my feet start carrying me across the clearing and past the tree line. Instinct and something… else… driving me toward the river.

Using my hands, I brush limbs out of my way, hurrying as carefully as I can traipsing barefoot over the rocks and roots littering the ground.

Finally, I spot the river, winking in and out between trees. My steps pick up until I'm practically running, weaving a path toward where I spot a familiar head of long black hair.

When I burst out of the trees, I call out her name, panting.

Nothing. She just… stands there. Frozen. Facing the river.

Naked and painted in our blood, black hair plastered to her back…

Bruises and scratch marks littering her back. Even without my glasses, there's no missing them.

Did I do that?

Brow furrowed, I take a few more unsteady steps, putting myself only a couple feet away from her before I stop, not wanting to get too close. "Ophelia!"

This time, there's a flinch. Subtle, but there. Proof she heard me.

But just when I start to feel relieved, she whirls around, and I catch the look on her face, and everything starts to just….

Crumble.

Impossibly round glassy brown eyes gape back at me, lips parted, fumbling like she's searching for words.

Feeling very self-conscious suddenly, I wrap my arms around my chest. Wishing I had more than this flimsy filthy nightgown to cover me up.

"Winnie?" she says shakily, my name carrying on the breeze. She looks around, panic visibly tightening her features, and straining the cords in her too-pale neck.

She then looks down at herself.

Then at me. Taking in all the dirt…the blood…

"What's happening?" she shakes her head. "I don't…I don't understand."

Her eyes spring back up to mine, redder than even a moment ago. "Are you hurt?" Her voice breaks.

Frozen, all I can do is stare at her, as a roar fills my ears.

"You're…you're covered in blood. I'm covered in blood. I don't…"

"You don't remember," I whisper blankly.

Her eyes search mine with palpable fear. "I was in my bed." Her voice thickens with tears. "I…I was dreaming. Having a nightmare. Then-then it all went white and..." She glances around. "And now I'm here." Her lashes flutter, her body swaying.

Her eyes find mine once more, wide with something akin to apology just as she stumbles forward a step. Hand outstretched toward me, she opens her mouth to say something?—

"Kneel," a voice booms.

We both drop as if someone cut our strings.

Eyes wide, we stare at each other.

The thing inside me…

No, inside us both , I realize…

It— she chuckles knowingly. "Good girls."

Ophelia's face bunches, telling me she heard that too.

Less than a foot separates us, and despite how confused and even angry I am—how betrayed I feel as images and phantom sensations from last night flash through my head and ripple over my body…

I ache to bridge the distance. Go to her.

But I can't move.

She doesn't remember…

And then it really hits me?—

Because it wasn't her…

Bile sears a path up my throat as my vision slants, my heart dropping somewhere in my sloshing stomach.

I will fear no evil, for You are with me, I pray silently. Yet knowing it's futile now.

"Now then," the demon possessing us says ominously, "the fun can really begin."