"How did it come to this…?"
The woman, Geraldine Belle Sardes, held her breath to that question.
She had walked through these halls a thousand times before, but never like this.
The air was heavy with the metallic sting of blood, and the eerie silence did nothing to lessen the weight pressing against her chest.
Her hand brushed against the blood-stained walls, taking care not to step over the corpse beneath her feet.
Every few paces or so, she would stumble upon the lifeless bodies of guards, staff and even guests. Most were people who used to shower her with so much attention it made her want to crawl into a hole and hide. Some were those she would see tending to their peaceful daily lives.
But now—those people were dyeing the walls, floors and furniture of the hotel with a deep crimson hue.
Even so, she didn't weep or grief for them. With every corpse she came across, her expression didn't change.
It held no shred of empathy. It wasn't because she didn't care, she cared way too much for her good, but she understood grieving for them now wouldn't change anything.
The best she could do now was not think about the sight and continue toward her destination.
That was always her advice, wasn't it?
"…"
Through these vacant corridors, Geraldine had been taking slow and steady steps. There was no need to rush, that person wasn't going anywhere after all.
Her golden glare narrowed as she drew closer to that faint, unmistakable presence.
The one that had been calling out to her ever since she set foot in this place, the Sardes Hotel.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. The heart of the building, the master office was just in sight.
"…"
Without a word, Geraldine adjusted the grey scarf around her neck, more out of habit than a necessity, and began walking.
With each step she took, that faint presence guiding her grew stronger. There was no doubt now.
That person was waiting inside for her.
She stood near a heavy wooden door, her hand hovered over the door handle for a moment. It wasn't out of hesitation. Somewhere deep down her heart, she held a faint hope that the person waiting on the side of the door wasn't who she was expecting.
"…."
And so, with a push, Geraldine stepped into the master office.
"Yo, Princess. It's been two long…"
Greeted a man waving a hand at her.
There were three figures in total, but the one who stood out to her was the one seated on the chair and desk her mother used to sit at.
He looked eerily familiar, or it was more acceptable to say, the man in front of her was a stark contrast to the one in her memories.
"…Oh, right. You never liked that nickname. Yeah, that's my bad, my bad. I've forgotten, my memory just isn't what it used to be. How long has it been? 5, 6 or 7 years? I've lost count…"
His latter guess was the accurate answer. By the looks of it, that was enough to dramatically change his voice, attitude and overall appearance.
That once dark brown hair was now an unkempt white mess that fell unevenly over his forehead, its bangs casting shadows over his faint crimson eyes. Beneath them were dark circles which gave the impression of a man who hadn't slept in days, if not weeks.
The ashen tone of his skin almost blended with the tattered grey cloak he wore over his shoulders. And finally, his lips were pulled into a grin of someone teetering on the edge of madness.
Seeing him in such a state had softened Geraldine's glare.
"Are…are you really the same person? No, forget it. That was a stupid thing to say. It's obvious you've changed"
Knowing that, she still posed that question. Perhaps there was a part of her that didn't want to accept how things had turned out.
"Ah, but it's not stupid. I've been asking myself the same thing for years. Heh, I suppose you could put it like that. Though it looks like I'm not the only one. Your body's way more defined now, nice longer hair and my personal favorite…that frown on your face"
He finished as he slowly traced a finger over his own lips.
"Do you remember, Geraldine? That polite, hollow smile you used to wear? At the time, I think it was the one thing I truly hated about you"
As much she hated to admit it, she knew exactly what he was talking about. Even she didn't understand why. Was it out of obligation, out of expectation, out of the need to be someone others wanted her to be?
"…Ah, well. That doesn't matter now"
"Just one? Here I thought you saw me differently back then, how disappointing. All of those heinous acts you committed, were they for the sake of your parents…or her sake?"
Geraldine chuckled, probably for the first time in years. Regardless, it faded the next moment.
"No, that doesn't matter now…right?"
The grin on the man's face had faded as well, replaced with a scowl.
"I don't disagree. You're right. It's in the past. I'm the one at fault here. It's always my fault. If I could have done more that day, would that have changed the outcome? I wonder—"
"Enough"
The moment she said that word, her golden eyes began to glow as brilliant radiance began to cloak her body. The walls trembled, the heavy wooden desk groaned, and the tiles of the floor shattered under an unseen pressure.
This was enough to trigger the other two present figures to flinch.
She raised a palm toward them—toward the man she had once called her friend.
But before she could do anything, something yanked her wrist downward. Her brilliant radiance fractured, its patches mingling with the ambers of something darker, corrupt.
"Connie—"
Geraldine's body reacted before her mind could catch up. Her free hand flew to her neck, but it was already too late. A searing pain bloomed across her throat.
Warm blood spilled between her fingers and onto the floor, her own breath gurgling in her windpipe.
The culprit stood before her, dagger in hand. It was the man, his expression was oddly calm and the shade in his crimson eyes had deepened.
"It's ok. I've already seen it…"
She barely heard him as her knees buckled to the floor. But before she could collapse, he caught her in an embrace—wrapping his frail arms around her body.
"…I saw this too"