Lysandra Malkov
"The day I killed my father… my mother vanished — just like that." Lysandra"s long, dirty nails clung to her tattered white robes, her gaze stern.
"And then?"
She looked at who spoke in the shadows, her eyes shifting between the flickering candles and the tiny cockroaches and rodents that came out to feast on whatever remained in her bowl.
"And then I said it over and over again — these whole years." Her face darkened, suppressing the volcano that threatened to erupt from her inside.
"Think further."
The voice sounded soft to her ears, but when it touched her skin, it made her flesh crawl, like a wriggling maggot on an old corpse.
The dimly lit surroundings were her sanctuary, the shield that protected her from the venomous eyes of the old hag who sat a few metres before her.
Granny, the only priestess in the cult.
Lysandra couldn't help but creep backwards, a bit slowly, as the shrivelled, old thing who refused to die leaned close to her. She could see her large, brown eyes, black eyeshadows that did a terrible job hiding the hideous eye bags, onyx lips that twisted as Granny smiled.
A disturbing stench of rot and impurities robbed Lysandra's nostrils as Granny walked closer. Yet, her nose had long grown accustomed to the familiar horrid smell. She could barely perceive the smelly living corpse before her at this point — yet today seemed unusual.
"I swear I don't remember anything else." Lysandra's body tightened as the arid smell of Granny drifted into her nostrils, making her sneeze.
'Poisonous herbs? She wondered, but Granny interrupted her.
"Is that so?" The old hag smiled, her hunched bag casting a darker shadow in the dim surroundings as she caressed Lysandra's cheeks with her black claws that sent cold waves down Lysandra's spine.
Thwarting her hands away from her face, Lysandra barked. "How much longer are you going to keep me here?"
"You're growing balls…" Granny chuckled, ber voice, revealing her yellow teeth and crumbling ing gum, a dark adjunct to her crumbling ing skin that smelled of putrid antiquity as maggots wriggled from one hole to another, pus dripping from her face.
"When we deem your stay here to be over, we'll let you leave." Granny said, her voice rasping like a snake in the shadows as she shifted her gaze to the leather bag beside her.
It was a small pouch made from the hide of a black reptile, and as she fumbled with it, the items inside revealed themselves. White candles, aromatic oils, a thin red fabric, and talc.
Lysandra squinted, seeing the alien materials. However, her face returned to normal, like she never noticed Granny's shenanigan.
'What does the old bitch think she is? Some prophetess of an old civilization?' she chuckled.
Even though she was a child of the cult… she knew better than to believe in their foolery and delusions.
The gods were dead… that was, if they ever existed. Otherwise, why would they keep quiet this long? Hence, Lysandra didn't take Granny seriously. It was just one of those routines these sick people do, and she'd bear with it… at least for now.
Her eyes traced every movement of Granny, regardless. From lighting the candle, to rubbing the rancid oil on her palms, and then drawing some complex diagrams in the little space between the two of them with the talc. After completing everything, her eyes looked into Lysandra's one more time.
Being on the receiving end, Lysandra could swear that Granny had aged further, her necrotic face looking more haggard, her eyes painful to the sight.
'A hypnotic?' Lysandra wondered, seeing her vision grow blurrier. She tried to resist, but it appeared that the more she struggled, the more the shadows in her surroundings coiled around her, biting off her vision. Eventually, she slept off — well, if one could call it that.
A state where she was dreaming, but also knew she wasn't completely asleep. And then the memories came, cutting on her hidden wounds like some long-lost arch enemies.
"Argh!" Lysandra screamed, breaking the silence in the dungeon. "Please… stop."
Warm tears trickled down her alabaster face, her dirty robes drenched in sweat as she trembled in one spot.
"Still don't remember anything?"
Granny's voice felt dangerously soothing, like a comforting mother from the deepest part of hell, which further made Lysandra's heart tighten.
After a few minutes of grim silence passed like a withering tree in winter, Granny frowned, her saggy eyes squirming as though they were tiny worms.
'Could this be real? "Her eyes flung open, following a sudden jerky movement of her fingers coated in aromatic oils.
Lysandra's eyes also twitched as they opened — a bit slowly. It felt like she had spent an eternity here, but the long look on Granny's face said otherwise.
Her ragged breathing didn't help either, and she could only sink in her dirty nails deeper into her skin, as she awaited what befell her next.
'I had better let him know of the situation.' Granny sighed, parking the strange materials back into the leather pouch.
Her tattered, black coat hid the pouch away in the blink of an eye, her yellow skin squirming as more pus dripped on the floor.
This further confirmed Lysandra's conjectures. 'Using hypnotics to force out information. How despicable.'
If she could spit on this woman's face presently, she'd gladly do it. However, she knew she wouldn't dare, unless she wanted to starve for days with unending torment.
Holding the position of the only female priestess in the cult was, after all, no joking matter… the reason for that, Lysandra herself could not comprehend.
"When the strings of fate weave in the endless space, and the light of atonement eventually befalls you, perhaps this young seed may bloom — for now, you remain mellow and appease the gods." Granny rose to her feet, not sparing the girl a second look as she headed for the dungeon exit.
"They're no more." Lysandra murmured.
"What did you say?" Granny paused, her fingers wrapped on the wooden door knob, losing their grips.
"Nothing." Lysandra stiffened, avoiding Granny's dark gaze.
"Blasphemy is unforgivable… remember that." She walked back to Lysandra, kicking her in her belly.
"Am I clear?" She pulled her hair, raising her a few centimetres above the floor, her strength a dark contrast to her cadaveric appearance.
"Ar-gh." Lysandra whimpered, before collapsing on the floor once more.
Drops of blood fell from her scalp to the shadowy floor, merging with the pervasive darkness as she choked in pain.
Granny spread her hands, as though stained, ready to leave this suffocating cage. However…
A thunderbolt clapped in Lysandra's ears, sweeping her off the ground, her body slammed on the old walls.
Her eyes widened in terror as her skin turned scaly and dry as if evaporating into nothingness.
"N-no… I can't die now, I -"
Her lips lost their old semblance, reducing to thin fossils, cutting off her speech as her body faded.
The last thing she saw was Granny's alarmed face. Her crumbling ing appearance gone, replaced by a frail bony silhouette.
"Noo… it can't-"
Lysandra's
Vision blanked out, unable to hear the remaining part of Granny's hysterics as they both vanished. Gone.
A/N
This is a Horror novel with three protagonists and POV, you can tell from the synopsis. The next two chapters will follow the POV of the other rwo MC so don't get confused. Thank you