[Background Music: Fugees – Ready or not]
Emilian drove silently to the nearby forest and stopped at the bank of a stream. He sought a crowded space behind some bushes at the foot of a trio of trees, the location indicated by the ghost of Marie-Rose in his dreams hours ago. Using a specific walking pattern, he strode purposefully until he reached the spot.
There, he found a small hollow, where he was supposed to conceal the body beneath a pile of branches adorned with green leaves. The corpse was crammed inside a suitcase in a fetal position, just as it had been placed in the bathtub. After opening the luggage and putting the body under the leaves, he lingered for a moment, tormented by the gruesome memories that still haunted his mind.
As he prepared to leave, a mist slowly rose from the ground before his eyes, taking the shape of a human figure with the distinct contours of Marie-Rose. Within seconds, the figure came to life, its features clear and unmistakable, though different from the earlier apparition.
"So... here we are," she interjected with sarcasm. "None other than Emilian!" Her words caused his eyes to bulge, and the flashlight slipped from his hands.
"What is this? Who are you?" he asked, revealing his bewilderment.
With a grave, unwavering expression, she taunted him, "Don't you recognize me anymore? Now that you've finished burying me, have you already forgotten me?"
"But... you're dead!" he exclaimed. "What does this mean?" He scrutinized the surroundings, the forest swaying peacefully around them in the darkness.
"Your eyes are not deceiving you, Emilian," she said, her tone laden with sarcasm. "Now, if you'll be so kind as to tell me, who instructed you to take my life?" Her confident tone cornered him, leaving him flustered.
"Uhmm, I – I..." He stumbled in his response, attempting to feign ignorance. "That's not true, nobody asked me to do it."
She let out a loud laugh, countering his obvious lie.
"Why did you do it then?" she retorted calmly, smiling with subtle irony.
He remained silent, unable to gather his thoughts, while she moved closer, almost confronting him face to face.
"I know who made you do it, no need to hide from me," she threatened, her words gaining emphasis. "However, I have bad news. From now on, you'll obey my orders..." Her phrase hung in the air, indicating there was more to it, something left unsaid.
"Or else?" Emilian's defiance annoyed her, his false sense of control bolstered by the org's support.
"Nothing else. You'll become my butler!" she laughed, pretending ignorance.
"Now, you will do as I instruct you. You will guard my body and prevent it from reaching the morgue," she whispered, her voice echoing softly in the air. After her soul had separated from her body, she couldn't bear the thought of her physical form vanishing without a trace. Not only would it implicate Emilian in the murder, but also, if properly preserved, there might be a chance for her to use it again.
Despite his hesitance, he had no choice but to comply, a strange heaviness settling in the surrounding atmosphere.
"But I'm no hero, I won't die for you," he protested.
"No, you will not die for me, you will die because of me," she chuckled. "Stay here until the sorceresses arrive."
Her spectral form seized Emilian by the collar, her grip unyielding and powerful. He felt his breath constrict, the air almost entirely escaping him. It became evident that she possessed an incredible strength. Even as he contemplated defying her and ignoring her plans, he swiftly surrendered and complied with her demands.
Following her instructions, Emilian pushed aside the branches, spread his coat on the ground, and prepared to sit. The apparition settled next to him, preventing him from succumbing to drowsiness with its unsettling presence.
Lost in profound contemplation, she mulled over the idea of reaching out to Jayden first thing in the morning, the moment she regained consciousness in her fresh vessel.
Emilian's hands trembled as he occasionally stole glances at her, catching the unmistakable defiance etched on her features.
"So, Einstein!" she teased. "I have one more task for you!" Her enthusiasm carried a foreboding tone, unnerving Emilian, who anticipated an unfavorable outcome.
Emilian struggled to find words, but she pressed on, "You will be my writing assistant!"
"I- I..." he stammered, unable to form a coherent response. His lack of talent in writing made the task seem insurmountable.
"No excuses. That's exactly what you'll do after we finish with this matter. Starting tomorrow night!" Her voice held a determined edge as she issued her decree, fully aware of the weight it would carry.
She knew that he would be haunted again by her ghost the moment he laid his head on the pillow. The vision of his deeds would terrorize him, and the link between their blood would materialize the ghost, an entity demanding in its relentless torment. It would continuously question him with relentless 'why's' and 'who's,' accusing him of plotting against her and demanding justice. It was better if she intervened. Marie-Rose would guide him until the ghost lost its strength and disintegrated. She would have him perform a ritual to make the ghost vanish, in exchange for the piece of information she sought from him.
"So, do you want to escape the ghost or not?" she asked, watching Emilian's eyes bulge in incredulity at the audacity of her proposal. So, this Marie-Rose and the one from last night were not one and the same. There had to be some kind of trap, he thought. She couldn't possibly be this friendly without a motive.
Still skeptical, he tested the ground. He was aware that she was a sorceress; in fact, he had been in contact with the coven before it was taken over by the gov. Nowadays, they only saw each other at work, even though they belonged to different departments. For obvious reasons, they often crossed paths.
"What exactly do you have in mind?" he asked cautiously.
"Let's say I'm preparing your redemption," she replied, a mocking tone lacing her words.
Emilian didn't trust her yet.
"Wha-what is your in-intention with this pro-proposal?"
He knew she worked with a team of writers. Why would she need him on the team? Let alone post-mortem.
"Since you're such an avid reader of mine, you must know what's coming next, in the following chapters, right?" Her mocking tone had the grace of a direct punch to the face.
Her words were derisive, but he could sense the seriousness in her tone as she turned to face him.
"But how could I possibly know that?" he spluttered, taken aback.
He had no talent for writing. While it was true that he had followed Marie-Rose's novels from the start, as she often advertised them at work and previously in the coven, taking part in the actual writing process was a completely different matter.
"I never read anything in my life," he confessed, quickly adding, "Except for your novels."
He had, in fact, read some materials, mainly the prospect of the mint tea box. It was just another expression for doing nothing all day long. Despite this, it would be great if he could find some answers directly. So far, he had been searching for them behind the scenes and didn't have time to interact in the official comments section, too busy making suppositions and ridiculing the concepts.
"It was about time you proved yourself!!" she chuckled.
The next second, the silence following her statement was broken by her loud sneer.
Emilian didn't find it amusing. His embarrassment was palpable, reflected in the long face he pulled, with his lips pouting helplessly and his left brow furrowed.
"As the villain that you are," she completed her earlier statement, before bursting into a fresh round of laughter.
"But..." he attempted to protest, but words failed him. His thoughts were too scattered to form a coherent sentence.
"But what? Were you thinking about being the male lead?" Her taunt only further emphasized his confusion.
"Uhm... uhm..." He couldn't find his words yet again, feeling utterly mocked by the witch.
"No love, you're far from being beautiful," her words lacked any remorse, and he couldn't take them lightly. Everyone had always praised his good looks since he was a child, and only this damn witch dared to pretend the opposite. To deepen his shock, she emphasized her stance: "I'm not kidding!"
"Wh-what?" he spluttered, preparing to defend himself. His ego couldn't take it, but before he could find a suitable retort, Marie-Rose continued, eager to strike back verbally, since she couldn't do so in any other way.
"You're nothing close to Jayden, love. He's extremely beautiful, you're not." There was a hint of mirth in her eyes, ready to burst out if not for her determination to exact her verbal revenge. "And yes, beauty is the most important."
Her statement was the truth. Despite her odd tastes in beauty, she couldn't deny that the first impression was everything. She might have been perceived as superficial, but she didn't feel sorry for the beliefs she held. She had her own taste in personalities, and she knew that beauty mostly came from within. Confidence. That's what Jayden had. She loved it.
"Bu-buut... The cover. The cover of your novel had a boy with black hair and a girl with brown hair... Jayden is blond. And fifteen years younger than you."
Ten years, not fifteen. Was he still confusing him with Anne's boyfriend? And no, she didn't have a preference for much younger men. Ten years was a reasonable age gap. She didn't even like blonds. For all her life, she thought that she liked brunettes with blue eyes. But, well, for one time, it just happened that a blonde with green eyes stole her heart. 'I guess that shit happens sometimes,' she thought.
"So? What's the problem? Let's just assume that we both dyed our hair..." she replied sardonically, the sound of laughter starting to creep back into her voice. "Or we could change the cover altogether and replace it with a picture of Jayden and me. Just to prevent the cover people ending up knifed down by someone I know." she said sarcastically, alluding to Emilian. "Or better yet should I fear for Jayden's life instead?"
His brown eyes widened in disbelief.
At this point, he didn't know whether she was being serious or just messing with him. So, would he write about the people on the cover, or not?
"So... you want me to write a love story..."
"Oh, yes! With your level of imagination, you'd be the best fit. You've tried your nonexistent wit with so many scenarios. Who haven't you paired me with? Let me see... Julian... Raul... Jean... Patrice... Is anyone missing? Is there anyone you didn't suspect me of having a crush on or having an affair with?"
"But I'm not romantic, I can't write romance," he replied, although he didn't need to say it. Marie-Rose knew. It was evident from a distance, judging by the fool's expression.
"My ghost will guide you," she assured, though her comfort was of little use to Emilian, who was terrified by the thought. The idea of being haunted by her ghost was a prospect he found deeply unsettling.
Nevertheless, the ghost of Marie-Rose was merely an amalgamation of hurt feelings and desperate thoughts. The novel would serve to soothe her pain, aiding her in fading away. "And one more thing. Don't you dare be too creative again."
Emilian pursed his lips, not daring to defy her mocking remark. She reinforced what she wanted him to write about:
"Take note that if I ever want the female lead to be with someone, it has to be Jayden. It's non-negotiable." In reality, she wanted to express that if she chose to be with someone, it would have to be Jayden.
'No, I don't think he didn't moved on,' she thought, acknowledging his right to happiness. Out of everyone in the world, he deserved to be the happiest. She couldn't help but feel saddened that being happy with him wasn't an option for her.
It wasn't her fault that they met. It wasn't her fault that they liked each other. It wasn't her fault that things happened the way they did. She had done her best to move on.
'I didn't ask for any of these. Falling in love with him wasn't part of my plan. It just happened. I've done my best to move on.'
Yet, it seemed that some unseen forces were binding them together, keeping them as prisoners of an unspoken affection, and the spectators played a significant role in that. She would have let go a long time ago, if not for them.
However, Marie-Rose and Jayden remained entwined for so long simply because of a story. Could it have been fate?
How did they become entangled in this tale to begin with?
***
Let us now explain the motivations behind the characters.