[Trinity's POV]
I fucked up. I fucked.
I really made a blunder this time.
Frist with Michael and now Dorothy!
Looking at the unconscious girl who was changing her appearance every five minutes, I thought, Should I just kill her?
". . ." I grabbed my hair and shook my head. My vampire days were pushing forward. Every time there was trouble, violence was always the answer.
But I was not a vampire anymore, nor did I plan to be one.
Calm down. Don't go in that line of thinking. It was not Dorothy's fault. It was mine for being careless.
But who knew that I'd be holed up in Michaels's house for almost thirty minutes! I was supposed to be back in my room within a minute or two.
It was just one bad luck after another!
I bit my thumb and thought. I could just concoct a potion to make her forget the whole thing. But . . . what if her real appearance wouldn't come back when she woke up or wouldn't come back forever? I didn't even know what nor how much of my ointments and creams she put on her face. I couldn't risk her changing appearances or growing cat ears every five minutes!
Watching Dorothy, her face changed again. This time, she was a beauty with neon green hair and pointy sprite-like ears, but the two horns on each side of her head would surely scare even the old hags.
I took note of her change and jutted the exact time. I noticed that the time took longer this time. It went to ten instead of five minutes, and I breathed some of the stress building inside me. At least the duration was taking longer, but I was not out in the rocks as her appearance continued to change.
I proceeded with what to do next.
First . . . I have to make breakfast.
The old hag was already awake at this hour, and it would be another disaster if she didn't find Dorothy in the kitchen making breakfast.
Taking one last look at Dorothy and deducting that she wouldn't wake up anytime soon, I went down and faced Madam Bertud.
"Where's Dorothy?"
My heart leaped to my throat. No matter how many years we saw each other in the morning, the dried mud mask on her face still scared my soul out of me.
"She is not feeling well, so I'll be taking over her shift."
"Heeh?" Madam Bertud rounded her fists against her waist. "Not feeling well?"
I saw the doubt in her face, and her eyes squinted upstairs.
Before she could stomp her way into Dorothy's room, I barged her path. "She's not feeling well at the moment. She's suffering from . . . pox."
Madam Bertud gasped, and she took a step back. Pox were common ailments amongst humans. They were little blotches of red dots containing pus inside, and they spread in all parts of your body. It was believed to be contagious, and the aftermath could leave the skin some dark spots or scarring.
"Blasted. Where on GrimHeart did she get that?!" Madam Bertud filled her lungs and released an irritating heavy sigh as she spun her attention to me. "Well, get on with it. You don't have all day to dally here. Since she's sick, you'll be taking all her work."
Madam Bertud grumbled under her breath and retreated inside her room. Once she did, she would take a bath and do whatever rituals she did in the morning. Her temporary disappearance would at least give me an hour or so to think things thru.
But one thing was for sure, Dorothy and I could no longer stay here.
"We have to go."
I prepared breakfast in less than thirty minutes. Madam Bertud had to settle with raw, cooked eggs and saggy slices of bacon for now. I used the other thirty minutes to get to my room and check on Dorothy.
Inside I was shocked to find her sitting in front of the mirror, examining her new face. She didn't even bother to spare me a glance when I closed the door and had my rickety shelf blocked it from anyone who attempted to enter.
"How long are you awake?" I asked.
Finally, Dorothy faced me, and I was unnerved to see her face. Short flaming hair of red, perfectly straight above her shoulders. Pale brown skin, small face, and big moss-green eyes, and pouty red lips.
(Pic)
Yep. She changed into a beautiful girl, and I hope no sprite ears were hiding behind that perfectly cut hair.
"Trinity," she croaked. Her voice was the same grating tone I remembered.
"Are you . . . a witch?" she asked, face solemn.
I swallowed. Was she going to scream? Call the church? Rally the villagers to burn me into the stakes?
I urged her to calm down. "Okay, before you react––!"
"Trinity!"
Surprised was an understatement when Dorothy leaped from the chair and hugged my knees. "I don't care if you're a witch or whatever. I will kiss the path you walk in and die with you. Just make sure that I remain in this appearance forever!"
". . ." Huh? I was confused more than ever. "Aren't you going to report me?"
Dorothy clutched my dress and climbed to get her face to a level with mine. The veins in her bulging eyes were red, and she looked at me without blinking.
"I have prayed day in and day out for this. I have never once been absent during the holy days. My knees darkened, and the scars run deep from kneeling every day, begging the Goddess for even just an ounce of beauty. All my savings were given to the church in hopes that they would grant a miracle and chop off the sharp edges of my face. But all of those were in vain!"
She grabbed me, and I tipped back when she zoomed on my face. "But you . . . you just grant me that miracle! I'm willing to do anything just to remain in this appearance. Even I have to be your slave!"