Hollow Ocean: A Gothic Saga (HIATUS)

Chapter 4

The room smelled of candle wax dripping from the lowly heat of glowing ember, seasoned with the salt of his own sweat.

It's been two days since they placed him in this small shabby room somewhere within the College. The room he was given to rest on was cramped, bricked with bronze, and bright candlelight kept his room from becoming pitch black. He was too injured to move his body or leave the room.

Doctors tended to him day and night, and his luggage and identification was safely returned. No doubt that Fiona was making sure he was more than comfortable in Vollimere.

Not even a warm bath could get that painful memory out of Theodore's head. The brutal imagery of the burning forest and the corpses of the Wolves was still freshly ripe in his mind. Just imagining it was enough to make his wounds sting, even though they've been stitched shut by now. He splashed his face full of water before he stepped out of the bath.

Speaking of Vollimere, the city itself was a behemoth more than the other cities he's visited before.  The city was surrounded by a massive wall that stretched for miles, built with black bricks and spikes formed around the base. It was too tall even to scale, no wonder it hasn't been penetrated for so long, not even the Shadow's Claw could perceive to breach it.

Inside the wall, a multitude of various buildings and houses littered each nook and cranny of a territory the size of a small ocean. The streets were always busy, even at night where the city lights felt like stars on the ground.

As he sat alone, admiring the nightly view from his window, the silence gave Theodore a lot of time to reflect on past events. It struck him that he hasn't heard "that voice" for the longest time before the forest. Taunting him when he was so close to becoming the very monster he was sworn to kill.

Has it been a while since he was able to let his bloodthirsty inhibitions loose? Theodore asked himself. The entire time he slaughtered those demi-beasts, he found himself relishing under an intense pleasure that nearly overtook his mind. 

"Time is running out, Theodore," the monstrous voice called out to Theodore as a dark shadowy figure instantly appeared behind him. Though he was alone, he could see its form from the reflection of his mirror.

Its entire body was painted in blood, a perfect imitation of Theodore in the aftermath of his battle with the Claws. Its hair was disheveled, and it wore a crooked smile from ear to ear. 

It was a phantom of his likeness born from the demon's curse, looking to torment him and cloud his judgment. With his special glasses broken during the battle, Theodore 

"Your strength is waning. It won't be long before you lose control for good, and I take over your precious body."

"You heard that apprentice, yes?" Theodore said to the phantom. "There is a cure, and Fiona found it. It will be mine after I complete their task."

The phantom giggled horribly. "And you believe her? So soon? Poor little Theodore... You're so desperate to become something you'll never become, that you're willing to side with the one that betrayed you."

"I'm not taking any sides here. I'm just strictly here for business, as usual." Theodore retorted. "But I will tell you this, demon. If this cure turns out to be a farce, I'll let you decide what to do with Fiona."

"Attaboy..." The phantom hissed. "Admit it. You enjoyed slaughtering those poor beasts in that battle. They never should've left their poor cages, don't you think?"

"No, it doesn't." Theodore stared at his reflection, as the phantom set foot just behind him. "They were fighting for a cause, and they died bravely."

"You keep telling yourself that," it fondled his neck. "But let me remind you. If it weren't for me, you would've been dead a long time ago. Remember the witch?"