For a moment, there was nothing but darkness. The room was permeated with coldness and silence that made every second feel eternal, almost as if they were all frozen in time, on the tip of their toes as they waited for something, anything, to happen.

It happened soon enough. The silence was broken by an ear-piercing scream that made everyone, especially Angela, cover their ears. They were all disturbed by the noise, but she was the one who recognized the voice.

Don't do this, please... she wept in the deepest crevices of her mind, closing her eyes intensely. Don't punish me...

She then proceeded to be shoved to the ground, releasing a slight cry of pain. She was in no way a crybaby, but she wasn't used to fights, and it showed as she struggled to get up. She looked around for some kind of explanation, it being the only tactic she was sure of, but the ghost still wailed, and the faces of the Jenkins family were still grave as tombstones.

"You were not true to your oath," the Mayor said coldly shortly after, and she soon realised why it was so, for it was pretty obvious. From her mind came the image of a stalking phantom whose eyes were stained with tears and whose dress was stained with blood, and whose frail right hand held a bouquet of red roses that Angela had plucked for her.

The roses never reached her... This is not real. It's a projection of my subconscious, a waking nightmare.

"Silence it," the Mayor growled as the apparition kept screaming. "You're the only one who can. If you don't do anything, she will never go away."

"What is going on?!" Marissa cried out, throwing her hands in the air.

"I would like to know that as well," the Mayor said in a booming voice, turning to face Angela with nothing but hatred in his cold blue eyes.

Why are you here? Go away, Angela thought, trying to send the thought to the projection of Cristina, but she seemed not to have heard her. In fact, she didn't say anything at all.

Please say something, Angela thought as she tried desperately to hold back a scream, but all she was able to get out of her was incoherent babble.

She stood in place and looked around insecurely like a student taking an especially difficult oral exam, but nothing came. Soon, everything seemed to disappear. The surroundings, as well as the people around her, swiftly vanished, replaced by a void where there was no concept of space or time. Only she and Cristina remained, hanging in the air, the former like a puppet and the latter like a leaf blown by the wind, helpless against the tyrannical whims of a constantly shifting reality. Red and black roses filled the darkness, forming walls that echoed screams of wrath and woe, pulling Angela's wriggling body in, instantly overwhelming her brain with memories that came in the form of images flashing through her mind all at once.

The flowershop where they first met, which had a cute pastel aesthetic and was full of all kinds of flowers. Their subsequent friendly encounters at concerts, in cafes, at clubs, mostly at clubs. Their increasing meetings and lengthy conversations over cups of black coffee or intense dancing after numerous glasses of wine. Their carefully cultivated bond that blossomed like an ivy over many years, eventually leading Cristina towards Angela's bed, where she felt like she never had before, and where even Angela, with her many old lovers, felt like she never had before in her own way. Their decision to share their life together 'til Death do them part. 'Til Death do them part...

It's really haunting how life can pave way for death so easily...

She loved Cristina with her whole soul, more than she ever could have imagined. She loved her pleasant face and silky voice and gentle shoulders that were perfect to lean on and unceasing support during her numerous endeavours which still did not undermine her shining personality and everything else. She could not love her at all times, but she still loved her most of the time and did so earnestly, in spite of their arguments and flaws. However, they both, especially her, had many problems, and the biggest of them all was whether she had loved her enough and whether she was the right partner for her and whether she was a bad-

YOU ARE ERASING ME, Cristina's image yelled in her voice while also possessing her appearance, the words loud enough to pierce right through her brain, rubbing salt in the wound.

Am I a bad person? Angela wondered, the thought rippling through her mind, taking many forms. I want to love again. Am I a bad person for wanting to love again? I want to live again. Am I a bad person for that, too? I never asked for this pain. I never wanted it. Does refusing this pain make me a bad person? But there's more to this. My life... Full of gluttony and sin for years. Prior to that, there was nothing but a false, hollow existence of suburban idyll. Several times, Cristina herself has commented on it. It went into one ear and right through the other. Nothing changed. I couldn't change it. I didn't want to change it. But what does that make me? A fornicator? A sinner? Again, a bad person?

There were also layers to this locked deep inside Angela's subconscious that she couldn't reach, which made her even more desperate.

I AM SUFFERING AND IT'S YOUR FAULT, Cristina screamed, and it was louder and more painful than before, but at least it was over. It didn't matter to Angela that she was bleeding out of her left ear and that she felt tired as a dead person and that her head was still buzzing. At least she could go on like nothing had happened in the first place.

These musings are boring and annoying anyway, Angela thought, wiping the dust off of her dress.

"What was that?!" the Mayor bellowed, throwing his hands in the air.

Or could she?

"Nothing," she replied coldly, standing up like she'd just taken a long, refreshing nap, which was quite impressive given that she had no time to think.

"Are you sure, my dear?" Marissa said, her eyes widening as she rushed to her aid. "You look horrible! You have the countenance of a zombie and the gaze of a mourner. I'll go fetch a nurse, but there's only so much that she can do. You look dead inside, Cristina. I don't know what it could be, but I don't mean to pry either if you don't want to share it-"

"It's my sister," Angela said, her hand clasped on her forehead in a theatrical display of grief. "My sister died in a car crash a month ago, and now she's cursing me for having a wedding with you. She won't leave me alone! It's horrible!"

"Of course, that must be pretty sad," the Mayor said in a tone of voice filled with false sympathy. "My condolences."

"Your poor sister," Marissa said, placing a hand over her trembling heart. "I'm sure she didn't deserve it. My condolences. However, you still have to live, Cristina. The wedding we're supposed to have next year is a symbol of idyll and love, and I know you'll see it with time as well. We're soulmates, Cristina. You can't escape it, and one day you'll realize that you don't even want to."

"So you didn't see anything?" Angela said, having blocked out her words, causing Marissa to be disappointed, which was written on her face.

"We didn't see anything," the Mayor whispered to her. "But what did you see?"

He and his daughter then turned to leave, after which she had to catch up with them and shout a reminder to wait for her. At the same time, she wondered whether the Mayor could see inside her mind or whether he simply seemed like he could do it. Reading her thoughts was an obvious skill of his, if not one he was using all the time, but she had no idea what just happened

"You're free for the rest of the day," the Mayor said nonchalantly the moment she caught up to him and his daughter. "You may go wherever you please. Just don't distance yourself too far from the house, and, no matter what you do, do not go into the basement. If I don't see you in the next hour, it's not going to look good for you, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," she responded swiftly, more than eager to leave this stifling property.

He said not to go into the basement, Angela thought as she made her way towards the street, wary of their watchful gazes. Clearly he's hiding something. But I have to be careful. One mistake and I'm done for. I need to find a safer way to enter the basement. I mustn't even think about it too much if I don't want to look suspicious. I'll go for a brief walk and see what happens next.

It was not a very joyful walk. The sunny streets full of blooming flowers and friendly people were no better than noir environments in her mind. The beautiful, colourful, dainty petals of flowers designed to win many gardening competitions, adorned by the golden glistening rays of the Sun taunted her, reflected her resurfacing sorrow from the event she wished to erase, themselves eternally blessed by the presence of the birds and the bees, standing there and looking pretty, not having to worry about anything in the world. And she thought of the basement constantly too, that wretched basement. She walked in circles, trying her best to cast the thought out, but nothing worked. After what seemed to be an hour, she returned to the mansion with a sigh of resignation, dreading the haunting yet still somehow dull routine there. There was nothing to do all day, but that didn't mean she wanted to acquaint herself with the village's odd customs.

Not unless they are related to the basement...

Speaking of the basement, Angela was surprised to see the black door at the bottom of the short, rocky, dilapidated stairwell that obviously led to it unlocked and unguarded. She raised an eyebrow at the convenience, and for a moment or two, she pondered whether it was a trap or not. Not wanting to ponder on it too much, she entered the basement, and when she did, it seemed like any other - a bleak, dingy place with cobwebs and ants all over, full of boxes filled with unimportant stuff, cleaning appliances, and dust. But there was a distant white glow, a faint presence of magic. Something special. It might mean more than she had hoped for. It might mean her salvation.

However, she didn't have much time to react because her phone buzzed loudly in her pocket - its presence itself was strange because she didn't recall putting it in there - indicating that signal had returned. She picked up instantly, stunned by who was on the line.

"Jared?" Angela whisper-shouted with evident excitement, hardly being able to believe this turn of events. "I've missed you so much. Where are you, my friend? How have you been?"

"Angela," Jared spoke, his voice shaky. "I know you're in the basement right now, but you have to leave. I know that you want to oppose Roger Jenkins with everything in you, and I know that you jumped at the opportunity to talk to me because I know things that you don't, but now is not the time. You must leave immediately. The forces of darkness have led you to this basement in order to-"

"Jared?" Angela gasped as the signal cut off, which she didn't want to believe. "Jared, what were you trying to say? Jared? Jared?!"

Before she could recover from the shock, the phone in her hand was replaced by a camera, which magically compelled her to take a snapshot, and suddenly, she noticed that she wasn't in the basement anymore.