The day of Isabella's ceremony had passed in a blur for Anna. The gods had showered her twin with praises, their voices echoing in her mind as she stood in the shadows, unnoticed and ignored. The golden light that had enveloped Isabella, the warmth of their adoration, had left Anna feeling cold and small. The blessings had only made Isabella stronger, more radiant, while Anna was left to struggle with the growing pain inside her—pain that never seemed to subside.
It wasn't until later that night, long after the gods had returned to their celestial domains, that the true weight of the day's events began to settle on Anna's weary shoulders. The pain that had come with the divine blessings still burned in her veins. Her body felt as though it had been torn apart from the inside out, as if something inside her had been permanently broken. The cuts from healing the animals had multiplied again, fresh, raw, and seeping with blood.
As Anna lay on her worn bed, her body trembling with exhaustion, she tried to make herself comfortable. But no matter how she twisted and turned, the pain in her chest and arms wouldn't subside. The constant aches and sores from healing the creatures—those same creatures who feared her and attacked her daily—made it impossible to find rest. The pain was always there, constant and unrelenting, like a shadow that never left.
The door to her room creaked open.
Anna froze, her heart sinking into her stomach. She recognized the presence immediately. Isabella.
The door was barely open when Isabella stepped inside, her presence commanding, as always. Her face was glowing with the light of the gods, the divine energy still lingering in her form, more beautiful than ever. Anna didn't look up, too afraid to meet her twin's gaze. She had learned long ago that showing fear was an invitation for cruelty, and she was far too afraid of what Isabella might do next.
Isabella didn't speak. She didn't need to. Her actions spoke louder than any words ever could. With swift, practiced movements, she crossed the room and knelt beside Anna's bed. Anna's breath caught in her throat, her heartbeat hammering in her chest. A deep, gnawing fear rose up within her as Isabella's fingers wrapped around her throat.
"Not again," Anna thought, panic rising in her chest.
Isabella squeezed.
The pressure was immediate, sharp, and crushing. Anna gasped, her hands flying to her throat, trying desperately to pry the fingers away, but they were like iron—unyielding, unrelenting. The sharp pain in her chest intensified as her body trembled with fear and exhaustion. The cuts from the animals, her own torment, burned fiercely with each shallow breath she took, each second that passed. Her arms were covered in fresh lacerations—scratches and gashes from her attempts to tend to the wounded creatures, and her own body became a reflection of the suffering she had unknowingly inflicted on herself.
Isabella's grip tightened, and Anna's vision blurred. Her heart raced in her chest as she struggled for air, her body wracked with pain. The pressure on her throat felt like a vise, crushing her windpipe and pushing the life out of her. Her hands, slick with sweat and trembling, tried to push away Isabella's hands, but there was no strength left in them. Every inch of her body felt as though it were screaming in agony, the fresh cuts on her skin stinging with the touch of the air, the blood oozing slowly down her arms as she fought for her life.
She could hear Isabella's breath, steady and calm, as if this were a mere act of routine. Anna's body spasmed in an attempt to break free, but Isabella's fingers never wavered.
Anna's head felt light. Her vision was darkening at the edges, the struggle for breath becoming harder and harder. The air felt thick and suffocating, her lungs burning as they begged for relief that never came. In the haze of her fading consciousness, all Anna could feel was the suffocating grip of her sister, and the dull, aching burn of the cuts that had only grown worse in the last few days. Her body was bruised, her skin raw, and with every breath, she could feel the weight of her own suffering.
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The air in Anna's room was thick with a suffocating tension as Isabella loomed over her. Anna, still weak from the ceremony, could barely catch her breath, her heart pounding erratically in her chest as she trembled beneath her sister's grip. Isabella's eyes glinted with a cruel satisfaction, her lips curling into an almost playful smirk as she pressed her hands tightly around Anna's neck.
The difference in their power was immediately apparent. Isabella's hands, once delicate and slender, now felt like unyielding iron, fingers coiling around Anna's throat with a strength far beyond anything Anna had ever endured. The blessing Isabella had received pulsed through her, filling her with an immense, god-given strength that Anna could never have imagined. Each second, the pressure around Anna's neck grew, making it harder and harder for her to breathe.
Anna's breath was ragged, coming in short, desperate gasps, as her lungs struggled against the suffocating grip. She clawed at Isabella's hands, but it was useless—her own hands, shaking with exhaustion and fear, could not even make a dent in the unrelenting hold. Isabella's strength was too much, and Anna could feel the world slipping away as her vision blurred and darkened at the edges.
The pain was unbearable—her throat was closing, suffocating her, while her body felt like it was being crushed under the weight of Isabella's power. Her limbs flailed weakly, her hands desperately trying to pry away Isabella's fingers that dug into her skin like claws. But every time Anna managed to get her hands on Isabella's wrists, the girl's grip tightened, and Anna felt the crushing, suffocating pressure double.
Her chest burned with the desperate need for air, but the more she struggled, the more Isabella seemed to relish in her helplessness. Anna's vision swam, and in her mind, a swirling whirlpool of pain overtook her. Her heart hammered in her chest as if it were trying to break free, each beat feeling like a drum of agony.
The worst part, however, was not just the pain—it was the helplessness, the crushing realization that she couldn't do anything to stop this. She could feel the blood rushing to her head, her face flushed with a mixture of desperation and terror.
As Isabella's smirk widened, Anna could barely register it through the haze of pain. The suffocating weight on her chest, the intense pressure on her throat, seemed to blur everything else. Her body convulsed in desperation, but there was no escaping the unrelenting force crushing her throat. She could feel her body weakening, the strength draining from her limbs, and the world around her slipping away like sand through her fingers.
And then, suddenly, the pressure eased for a mere moment, giving Anna a split second to gasp in a desperate breath. But it was fleeting. Just as quickly, Isabella's grip tightened again, her hands digging deeper into Anna's throat with terrifying force.
Anna tried to scream, but no sound escaped her lips—only a painful, strangled wheeze. The pain in her throat was so excruciating that every breath she attempted felt like fire burning through her lungs. The flesh wound on her body, invisible to the eye but excruciatingly present, throbbed painfully as her body unknowingly healed the animals once again. The burning sensation spread across her skin, making each moment even more unbearable.
The blood, mixed with the agony of the strangulation, rushed to her head, and Anna felt herself losing consciousness. Her limbs went limp, and her hands fell uselessly to her sides. Isabella's smirk never faltered as she held Anna's fading form tightly, reveling in the power she now wielded over her sister.
Anna's body was now just an empty vessel, a victim to the power she could never hope to fight. With her last strength, she thought, not of herself, but of the life she had tried to live. She tried, with the last of her fading will, to push against the suffocating grip, but all she could manage was a small, broken gasp for air before the darkness swallowed her whole.
And then… everything went black.
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As the days dragged on, the weight of Anna's suffering only grew heavier. She could not escape the inevitable truth that she would live each day under the heavy hand of fear, a constant companion. Every glance from Isabella, every touch from the gods, reminded her of her place—beneath them all.
But deep within, something inside Anna began to shift. The constant ache in her body, the emotional exhaustion that had become part of her very being, began to change her. She was no longer the innocent, frightened girl who had once longed for affection and recognition. The world had tried to break her, to make her bend and break under the weight of its cruelty.
But Anna's spirit, though battered and bruised, still flickered, weak but alive.
The story was far from over.