Vindicta: The Story of a Vengeful Spirit

Chapter VI

            "She's alive," the nurse said, emerging from room 444, "she has severely injured her abdomen, but she's alive. Barely though."

At these words, Dolores faked a sigh and tear of relief, not caring at the slightest, while Lady Banquesta kept her forever neutral facial expression.

"That's a relief," Dolores's mother muttered to Dolores, her tone annoyed; "it would be rather costly to find a new maid, and Bella was a rather good one. Go fetch me some water now, shoo."

A mild rage burned in Dolores when she heard these words. Even though she didn't care for the maid, Lady Banquesta should, and these words said by such a human made Dolores feel the injustice of the world. Quite hypocritical, but then, so was the rest of the world.

Dolores obediently tipped her head and headed toward the water dispenser. As soon as she was out of her mother's sight, she changed course, heading in the opposite direction into an empty tool room where a veiled figure of a little girl was sitting on an empty bucket—waiting.

"We never agreed on this," Dolores remarked, her tone neutral, but that mild rage still burned.

Vindicta tilted her head, then drew a line on the bucket that she was sitting on.

"All plans take time," the evil child hissed, the mild rage now slowly flourishing into fury—how dare this demon creature defy her? "You acted on impulse, created a foolish plan!"

The demon spirit let out a dark growl, almost feral, and stood up abruptly, causing the bucket to topple onto its side. For a moment, Dolores was filled with fear, which felt strange as the girl usually only felt anger or frustration, never fear. Then, Dolores realized that the emotions she was feeling did not belong to herself, and it was instead Vindicta pulling on the strings.

"You dare use your magic on me, devil," she spat, and the fear immediately subsided.

Vindicta, almost like a dog, bowed her head like she was in sorrow—another act, Dolores knew—but the young girl still did not like this feeling, for it was too like the times with her mother, and Vindicta must have also known about this dislike.

"Never mind," Dolores said decidedly; "leave Bella alone for now, too much meddling with her and we'll have someone suspecting something's going on. I'll think of another plan in the meantime."

Vindicta tipped her head as a sign of confirmation and seemed to want to say something else, too, but then came the voice of Lady Banquesta demanding for her cup of water, so Dolores took a relatively clean plastic cup from the trashcan and scooped up water from the mop bucket and headed out of the tool like nothing had happened. She then casually slipped the cup of ungodly contents into her mother's hand, again like nothing had happened.

"What took you so long, girl?" her mother demanded, taking a sip of the water; "are you so useless that you can't fill a cup with water?"

Dolores mumbled a quiet "Sorry", telling her mom some excuse of the water dispenser being broken.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Get in! In!" And Lady Banquesta ushered Dolores into the room where Bella was lying on her sickbed, tubes sticking out of her body, her once-rosy skin now a grayish pale color.

Tears, Dolores thought, desperately trying to squeeze some liquid from her eyes, tears, tears, tears!

But she just couldn't as she stood there admiring the work of Vindicta—how powerful she was! The best Dolores could do was keep her face frozen—hiding the smile that desperately wanted to blossom—as she sat there, looking at the fragile body of her maid.

The maid was unconscious, probably better if she wasn't, and all Dolores could think of was how easily she could end her now, and pose it as just a fatal incident. She would rather not have Bella blabbering everywhere about this. And besides, Dolores had a new plan now, and that required Bella to live on for a little longer.

She excused herself to the washroom and hurried down the corridor to the tool room once more, where her evil companion was still standing, in the same position as before.

"Vindicta," the young girl said, "I need you to—"

Whatever Dolores was going to say was cut short by a bone-chilling shriek echoing down the hallways. Cutting the conversation short, she sprinted down the corridor, following the sound of the melancholy wails. She burst into the room the sound came from.

Nobody was there, no nurses, no doctors, no visitors—except for Bella, on the bed, struggling against her own weak frame. Some of the tubes sticking out of her skin snapped, and the terrible moaning continued, much more loudly than a patient who had garden shears sticking out of her abdomen just a few days ago could have managed.

As Dolores still stood there, taking in that sight with shock, Lady Banquesta stumbled into the room, seemingly disheveled.

And this time, it was Dolores who gave the orders:

"Get a nurse, doctor, someone, now."

Her mother obeyed. When her mother left the room, the demon child sat on a stool, smiling, admiring the beauty of this hysteria. Vindicta, she thought.