𝐈'𝐦 𝐚𝐧 𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 (𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐃)

Chapter 60: Essence of Despair

The dying embers of the hearth cast long, twisting shadows across the room. I dozed off into a restless sleep, and that was exactly when the nightmare struck.

The darkness pressed down on my chest, heavy and suffusing, as those same shadows morphed into faceless figures that chased me through an endless, shifting maze.

Every time I tried to scream, my throat locked tight, trapping the terror inside my lungs while the air grew thick as water.

Just as the coldest shadow reached out to grab my ankle, a sharp, rhythmic hammering fractured the dream, dragging me violently into consciousness with a jolt that left my heart hammering against my ribs.

I bolted upright in the armchair, eyes burning and mind trapped in a heavy, disoriented fog as the persistent knocking rattled the wooden door frame.

A wave of pure irritation surged through me, heat flushing my cheeks as I glared at the offending door through tangled strands of hair.

Every muscle in my body resisted the sudden movement, aching from my cramped position in the chair and the sheer injustice of an interrupted rest.

Yet, as the lingering panic of the maze slowly receded, a quiet sense of relief washed over the anger. I was profoundly grateful to the unseen visitor for tearing me away from the horrors of my own mind.

Gritting my teeth against the physical ache, I pushed myself up from the cushions, letting out a sharp, ragged breath that was halfway between a groan and a sigh.

"Come in," I finally said.

Bella slipped inside, carrying a small wooden box, cradled as if it might shatter. Her eyes flicked to my bandaged hands, then to the blanket half-draped over my lap.

"Sorry," Bella whispered. "Did I wake you?"

I straightened up, rubbing a hand over my face. "No. I was done sleeping anyway. Is that what I think it is?"

She nodded and set the box on the table between us. Her fingers lingered on the lid for a second before she opened it.

Inside, resting on black velvet, was a single vial of dark liquid. It shimmered faintly, like oil on water.

"I finally finished the potion," she said. "But it's not what you asked for anymore."

I frowned. "Explain."

"I couldn't do it," she said quickly. "I couldn't make something that would hurt you just to hurt him. Not after everything you've been through. So I started over."

She picked up the vial carefully and held it out.

"I called it the essence of despair," Bella said. "It doesn't just cause physical pain. When he drinks it, he'll relive his worst memories. Every mistake, every death, every moment he wants to forget. It'll feel real. And it'll come with fear so sharp it breaks people. Delirium. Madness."

I stared at the vial. The liquid inside didn't move, but it seemed to pull at my eyes anyway.

"It doesn't wear off," Bella added quietly. "Not unless he takes the antidote."

My eyes sharpened. "And you can make the antidote?"

"I'm the only one who can," she said. "And I won't make it for him, unless you want me to."

I took the vial from her, cold against my palm.

Bella continued, voice low. "The effect comes and goes. He'll relive his worst memories. He'll feel the fear, the delirium, like it's happening again right now. Then it'll stop. For an hour, a day, maybe longer. He'll never know when it's coming back."

I turned the vial slowly, watching the liquid swirl.

"So he'll live with it forever?" I asked. "Always waiting for the next time it hits. Never safe in his own head."

She nodded. "It drives people insane. Not right away. But eventually, they break. Because they can't trust their own mind anymore."

I smiled, slow and sharp.

"Perfect," I said.

Bella looked at me, worried and relieved all at once. "Use it on him, unnie. Make him pay. But please, don't let it turn you into him."

I pocketed the vial and leaned back in my chair, letting her words sink in.

It took me less than two seconds to conclude that I refused to apologize for the sharper edges of my soul or the uncompromising way I survive.

I was the sum of my scars and my choices, and I would occupy this space unapologetically, even if it made me the antagonist in someone else's story.

So instead, I just shrugged and said, "I make no promises."

***

Author's Note:

So sorry for the short chapter, but this one is just an interlude for the next chapter. Please look forward to it! 😏