Chapter 253: The Witcher’s Trap

The ragged breathing coming from Perdita filled the room as she moved from one body to another body trying to find an escape from the hall she found herself in.

Beads of sweat now formed on her forehead, hair tousled everywhere, leaving her looking disheveled.

She had moved up to twenty bodies while checking the floor and everywhere, and suddenly, she noticed a rope hanging from the wall behind where one of the bodies rested against it.

Without wasting more time, Perdita tugged in the rope, and immediately, the door of the hall opened with a click, allowing a streak of light inside.

"Oh, thank the heavens!" Perdita exclaimed and wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her sleeves. Immediately, she went for the door.

On opening the door, more light filled the hall, and she noticed the bodies nearest to the door give off a sizzling sound, smoke rising from them as though their skin were melting.

Her face mirrored the thoughts that swirled in her head while trying to understand what was happening. But before that, she told herself, she needed to get to where Sthena was.

Closing the door behind her, she stepped into the corridor she recognized earlier walking in from, glad she was finally out from that maze she had found herself in.

Quickening her steps, Perdita rounded three more corridors, noticing how the sound of fighting had reduced and everywhere had almost turned quiet.

Seeing no one in sight, her breath hitched at the thought that she had missed the corridor once more. Suddenly, she saw the familiar red hair she had grown accustomed to, and she released a deep sigh.

"Sthena!" Perdita called out, relief in her voice as she hurried over. But her steps came to an abrupt halt when she saw the woman beside him. "Sthena?" She called again, this time in apprehension and uncertainty.

Her calling made the woman beside Sthena stop walking, and she turned, making Perdita’s eyes widen in disbelief. She exclaimed in horror, "What in heaven’s name is going on here?!"

This couldn’t be happening. Perdita felt her head sway from what she was seeing. The woman beside Sthena looked like her, or, rightly put, was the same person as her.

Still filled with apprehension, the gears in Perdita’s head immediately worked overtime as she immediately turned to Sthena to question, "Where did we first meet?"

"Woodbridge village," the other Perdita beside Sthena answered. She turned to ask Sthena. "Who is this woman? Why does she look like me, and why is she asking where we first met?"

"Shut your fucking mouth, Witcher!" Perdita snapped, her gaze burning in quiet fury. "I did not ask you that question." She turned to Sthena once more, asking, "What did you first take from me?"

"Sthena, don’t listen to her. She is faking me." The Perdita beside Sthena interjected. "Remember I told you one of the witches impersonated you? She is also doing the same thing. Don’t listen to her."

What?! Perdita exclaimed in her head. How did this witcher know Sthena was impersonated by the witches? She had killed the witcher herself, and no one else was there when it happened.

"If anyone is impersonating another, it is you." Perdita’s hand by her side itched with anger to immediately kill her impersonator. But that would be hard given she was standing beside Sthena, who she still didn’t know if he was the real one or not. And why is he not talking?!

Perdita took a deep, slow breath, clenching her fists tightly as she turned to Sthena once more. "Where did I first bite you?"

"Why are you letting her ask you such stupid questions?!" The impersonating Perdita fumed, visibly enraged as her nose flared. "Kill her immediately."

"Why do you keep asking questions, and you are claiming you are the real Perdita?" Sthena, who had been quiet all along, questioned back. His hand reached up to the right side of his neck, he squeezed, and he exhaled in exhaustion.

Perdita’s brows knitted in confusion at the question from Sthena, making her question if this was another impersonator of Sthena. But then, she noticed his subtle action of rubbing his neck that immediately made her internally exhale in relief that he was indeed the real Sthena. She had indeed bitten his neck during the exorcism ritual back then in Woodbridge village.

"I must warn you, you may see things that will gore you out, getting suddenly attacked and tricked by them, as witches will be involved. You must stay vigilant and always by my side. Do not believe or say anything."

She remembered Sthena’s words from earlier and immediately understood what he was playing at. But why was he still standing beside the impersonator if he already knows she is the real one?

"Why don’t you quietly leave while I still have it in me to show leniency?" Sthena continued, his red eyes slightly narrowing.

Getting the cue, Perdita bowed and spoke quickly. "For—forgive me!" Then she turned and walked away, her steps quick on the floor. "I need to find Daemon immediately." Whatever Sthena was planning to do, she needed to prepare herself for it.

"Why didn’t you kill her? She will—"

"Why waste my time on her when I have you beside me?" Sthena interrupted, tucking Perdita’s hair behind her ear. "Didn’t you say you have somewhere to show me? Come then."

"Of course," Perdita nodded, her lips stretching into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Walking for a while, Sthena and Perdita came to a cleared path that led them to a thatched hut.

"While I was looking for you, I stumbled upon this hut." Perdita explained, glancing at Sthena’s face. "To think they have had this hidden all these while."

"Mhm," Sthena hummed in response, uttering no further words just as they entered the hut and it shut by itself with a sharp thud.

Inside, the hut was dark, left for a single candle burning brightly at the center, where markings were inscribed around it. At the far end of the hut was a pot, and under it was hot coal brewing the contents inside the pot that gave off the stench of a rotten egg mixed with herbs.

Perdita went to stand before the pot, her face scrunching as she observed what was inside.

"What is in there?" Sthena questioned while rubbing his nose at the assault his nose received. He walked towards Perdita, wanting to see what she was watching; however, before he could peek inside, he fell to the ground, his breaths suddenly coming out in pants.

"What—" He struggled to speak, his chest tightening the more he tried to breathe or talk. "What did you do?" He stared in alarm at Perdita, his voice betraying the hurt he felt.

"Seeing how you didn’t drop down immediately when we entered here, I was about to think my portion wasn’t working." Perdita spoke, her gaze still fixed inside the pot that continued to bring out steam as it boiled.

"What are you talking about?"

Perdita scoffed, now fully turning to face Sthena. Bothering not to keep up the appearance she stole, her face began to change to its original form. Scaled and cracked black skin now replaced the smooth face she had some minutes ago. Her nails grew longer, curved, and sharp at the edges.

Disgust marred her now wrinkled face while her rage-filled eyes stared venomously at Sthena on the floor. "I thought of you to be smart. I didn’t know I would get you this easily, especially when the real Perdita appeared. Though you weren’t also smart in that aspect, as you did not kill as I had told you to." Her tongue slithered as she spoke, her voice raspy and crooked.

"But all the best," The Witcher continued. "At least I’ll have more people for my ritual."

Sthena took a deep, shallow breath to steady himself. His palm pressed to the floor while he made to stand.

"I would advise you against doing that." The witcher turned her back on Sthena. Taking a knife from a nearby stand, she came back to where Sthena sat heaving for air. She took his hand and harshly cut his palm to draw blood and allowed it to drop into the vial she held.

She then went back to the pot and poured the blood into it, making it sizzle, and more smoke wafted from within it.

"I never imagined this day would come so soon." A smile slid across the witcher’s face, a cackle following suit.

"What do you mean?" Sthena quizzed, his hand now placed on his chest that continued to ache with each breath he took.

"What do I mean?" The witcher turned to face him once more, explaining. "You have always been the key to everything going on here."

"Your blood," she stated. "Is the last ingredient in the pot of my creation. It is the key to unlock everything."

Sthena’s squinted in question. "The key?"

The Witcher paused, staring skeptically at the pureblooded vampire. She said, "Your ears shouldn’t hear this, but what can you do now in such a state? It’ll bring me more joy in knowing how defeated you’ll be, knowing you failed in the end." Another cackle followed as she went to the pot and began to stir it while speaking.

"If you had left the investigation, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now. And I know, you discovered the missing heads from the graves in Blackfang town and that you came here to know what we are using them for."

"If only those lousy men had not been foolish to leave the body of that woman in the open, this wouldn’t be happening this soon." She murmured to herself, hissing at the end.

"So you have been following me?" Sthena asked, coughing as he did, and with it came a mouthful of blood he spat out to the ground.

"I see the potent smell of my ritual is hitting you hard enough. Just give it a few minutes and you’ll join the ingredients inside my pot." A maddening smile stretched on her lips, eyes glinting in evil and joy.

She continued to speak, "Of course I had you followed. I have been doing that for a while to know when and how to get you and your blood, thanks to Opheeny. You weren’t smart by keeping her by your side, were you?"

"The heads," The Witcher turned, keeping the long stick she was using to stir the pot by the side of the pot. "Across from this hut, you’ll find a building where my newest creations are. I used the heads I took from the town, especially heads of pureblooded vampires, to create bodies that will soon come alive after feeding them my great potion made possible by the blood of a second-generation pureblooded vampire, which is you."

An anxious alarm ticked off in Sthena’s head as he made to stand again, but his body had weakened more than it was before, making him slump back to the ground breathless.

"You need not be shocked, nor should you try to do anything. It is late now. And oh," The Witcher paused when she noticed Sthena trying to use his ability. "Don’t waste your strength on that. I made sure no vampire can make use of their ability in this hut or around it."

"Vetis must have promised you a lot." Sthena stated, his darkened gaze on the witch filled with fury at their audacious act.

"Oh, you know about him being involved." The witcher nodded her head as though in understanding of the situation. "He undeniably promised us something, but we witches do not hold firm to promises; rather, we execute and take everything for ourselves."

"And you think you will succeed?"

"Am I not doing that already?" The witcher questioned back, chuckling to herself. "Not to worry, I’ll see to it that the right news is sent out to the people together with a bone of their beloved king to be kept as an artifact."

"Enough of the chit-chatting now. We must get into the main aim of my wonderful creation." And the witcher took hold of the knife once more and slowly approached the paralyzed king on the ground.