Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 174 - Hundred And Seventy Four
The darkness in the small stone room was absolute, heavy, and suffocating. The only sound was the ragged, terrified breathing of Senna, who was huddled on the cold floor, and the slow, rhythmic breathing of the figure standing in the shadows.
"I died with unclosed eyes," the figure whispered.
The voice was Marissa’s, but it was hollow, flat, and devoid of life. It echoed off the damp stone walls, surrounding Senna, making it impossible to tell where it came from.
"My soul cannot rest," the voice continued. "So I will hunt you forever. I will be the shadow in your corner. I will be the cold breath on your neck. I will be a vengeful spirit until you pay for your sins."
Senna screamed. It was a short, sharp sound of pure terror. She scrambled to her feet, her legs shaking so hard they could barely support her. She couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t be in the dark with her.
She turned and ran blindly toward the door. She reached for the handle, her fingers clawing at the wood.
But something cold hand grabbed her wrist.
Senna gasped, pulling back. She looked up.
Marissa was standing right in front of the door. The faint light from the moon outside filtered through a crack, illuminating her face. Her skin was painted a deathly grey. Her eyes were wide and staring, unblinking. The red line on her neck looked wet and angry.
"You cannot leave," Marissa whispered.
Senna shrieked and stumbled backward. She turned and ran the other way, toward the coffin. She needed to put something, anything, between herself and the ghost.
"To get the Grand Duke," Marissa said, her voice following Senna across the room, "you smeared my reputation. You accused me of trafficking women. You turned Denver against me."
Senna reached the coffin. She grabbed the edge of it, her knuckles white. She looked back at the door. Marissa was still there.
But then, she looked across the coffin.
Marissa was standing there, too.
Senna’s mind broke. She spun around. Marissa was everywhere. It was a trick of the dark, a trick of fear, but to Senna, it felt real. The room was full of her victim. They kept disappearing and appearing but one or maybe two figures looked real like they are ready to drag her to hell.
"You hired an assassin to kill me," Marissa accused from the shadows. "You paid a man to strangle me in my sleep."
Senna backed away until her back hit the rough stone wall. She had nowhere left to run. She slid down the wall, clutching her head.
"Stay away!" Senna cried. "Stay away from me!"
Marissa walked closer. She moved slowly, her white burial gown flowing around her like mist. She stopped a few feet from Senna.
"You drugged Mira," Marissa said. Her voice was full of sorrow and anger. "The innocent dancer. You drugged her. You put her in that room. And you caused her to kill herself."
Marissa leaned down, her face coming into the sliver of moonlight.
"She jumped because of your actions," Marissa whispered. "Her blood is on your hands, Senna. Just like mine."
Something in Senna snapped. The fear was too much, the pressure too intense. It boiled over into a sudden, manic defiance. If she was going to be haunted, she would fight back. She was alive. Marissa was dead. The dead couldn’t hurt her.
Senna stood up. She pushed herself off the wall. Her eyes were wild.
"YES!" Senna shouted.
Her voice boomed in the small room, shattering the quiet whispers.
"I DID IT!" Senna screamed at the ghost. "I drugged her! I locked the door! I set the trap!"
She took a step toward Marissa, her fear turning into adrenaline.
"So what if I did?" Senna yelled, her chest heaving. "What can you do about it? You are a ghost! You are nothing! You are rotting meat in a box!"
She laughed. It was a high, jagged sound.
"The dead don’t talk anyway!" Senna sneered. "Who are you going to tell? The rats? The worms? No one can hear you! No one will ever know!"
Marissa didn’t flinch. She simply stood there, absorbing the confession. She took a step closer. Senna took a step back, her bravery faltering slightly as the ghost advanced.
"Why?" Marissa asked. Her voice was no longer ghostly. It was demanding. "Why impersonate me? Why wear my face?"
Senna’s back hit the coffin. She was trapped again. She looked at Marissa with pure, unadulterated hatred.
"Because I deserved it!" Senna spat.
"The dance establishment is mine!" Senna declared. "Derek built it for me! It was my kingdom! And you took it! You took the deed! You took the profits!"
She gripped the edge of the coffin.
"Derek is mine!" Senna hissed. "He saved me. I helped him. We were bound by fate! He looked at me with kindness until you came along. You stole his attention. You stole his heart."
She glared at Marissa.
"Why did you steal everything from me?" Senna demanded. "I had nothing! And you... you had everything. Title. Wealth. Family. And you still took what was mine!"
She started to laugh again. It was a broken, bubbling sound. It sounded like she was crazy.
"I wanted to destroy you," Senna confessed, her eyes gleaming in the dark. "I didn’t just want you dead. I wanted you ruined that it almost costed me my life force."
She smiled, a cruel twisting of her lips.
"I will make you infamous," Senna whispered to the face of her enemy. "Even in death, they will hate you. I let you taste public scorn. I made them call you a murderer. Your name is mud, Marissa. Forever."
Marissa listened. Her face remained impassive, but her eyes were sharp, memorizing every word.
"You had already put me in prison," Marissa said quietly. "The plan worked. I was in a cell. I was disgraced. I was awaiting trial."
She looked Senna in the eye.
"Why eliminate me completely?" Marissa asked. "Why send the assassin? Why seal my fate with a rope?"
Senna stopped laughing. She stood up straighter. She looked at Marissa with a cold, terrifying logic.
"Because the person who sent me ordered me to do so," Senna said. She walked slowly around the coffin, keeping her eyes on Marissa.
" Who sent you?" Marissa asked.
"Lady Jane," Senna said. "Turns out I’m not the only one you’ve crossed. She knew you are clever, that you always find a way out. As long as you were breathing, you were a threat."
Senna stopped.
"Only the dead," Senna said slowly, savoring the words, "can stop competing with me."
She laughed. It was a sound of finality.
"And now," Senna gloated, gesturing to the coffin, "you are dead. You are finally out of the picture. Derek will mourn, yes. But he will forget. And I will be there to help him forget."
She looked at Marissa’s "ghost" with triumph.
"Go away, spirit," Senna said. "You have no power here. I won."
The room fell silent. The echo of Senna’s confession hung in the damp air.
Marissa stood still for a long moment. Then, her shoulders relaxed. The stiffness of the "corpse" vanished. Her posture shifted from supernatural stillness to the tired slump of a living woman who had been standing too long.
She sighed. It was a very human sound.
She reached up with her hand and rubbed her neck, smearing the red makeup slightly.
"Excellent," Marissa said. Her voice was normal. It was the cool, calm voice of the Grand Duchess.
Senna froze. Her smile faltered.
"What?" Senna whispered.
Marissa didn’t look at her. She looked past Senna, toward the heavy wooden door at the entrance.
"Come in," Marissa called out. Her voice was loud and clear.
Senna spun around.
The door to the back house creaked open.
Light flooded into the room. It was blinding after the darkness. Several lanterns were held high, illuminating every corner of the dusty stone room.
Some men walked in.
First was Derek. He was dressed in his black military coat. His face was a mask of cold fury. His hand was resting on the hilt of his sword, his knuckles white.
Next was Captain Odis, the head of the Royal Judiciary Guard. He held a scroll and a quill, his face grim and serious. He had been writing.
And behind them were four royal guards, their hands on their weapons.
Senna looked at Derek. She looked at the Captain. She looked back at Marissa.
Marissa was standing there, alive. Breathing. Looking at her with a look of utter, cold satisfaction.
