Nikasios's Island

X

Previously:

"Presents as in curses," Aggie said, "Curses for the Evil."

The last chapter...

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The ground was finally dry from the storm, the grass smooth with every stroke. Still, petrichor was adrift in the air, an invigorating smell. When the morning awoke from a night of darkness, the sun crawling out from the horizon, its light peeking out from under the shadows, all life flourished. Birds sang to one another, hauntingly pure and smooth as silk.

A knock appeared at the creaking wooden door. Nick woke, nearly scared from a nightmare, his hair in unbelievably curls and waves. He put on a pair of jeans and a plain grey shirt, making sure to brush his tangled hair before he opened the door.

Aggie panted, multiple books held in her arms. "I found it,"—she heavily breathed, exhausted by the looks of it—"I found a solution!"

"You sure it'll work?" Nick asked blandly, his eyes half-open.

"No," Aggie said, frowning. She hesitated. "But anything's better than nothing."

She walked inside and set her books on the side table as the door shut. "Just as the ice trapped an evil forever, we shall trap this evil in a box, a cursed box," Aggie said. "I already planned the curse and I got the box ready at my place. Are you up for it?"

Nick nodded but then froze. "How're we going to get Cressida in the box?"

"I'm not certain."

Paris woke from a quick nap on the hammock on the balcony of the tree house. The fresh air blew between her eyelashes, blinking while coldness danced on her eyelids, the wind carrying the scent of the nearby mango tree, sour and tropical, similar to an orange. Paris rubbed her eyes, adjusting to the radiance of the noon sun. The temperature was mild and the wind gave off a peaceful blow. She walked down the tree house steps. Once she was on solid dirt, she turned right and walked along a trail.

She halted at a small house. Paris knocked. "Aggie?" she asked, her voice booming. "Are you there!?"

She opened the door to peek, knowing it'd be mean to intrude―Nobody. Paris let the door close and walked around curiously. Aggie's house was how it was the day before―her chairs with azure cushions lined next to a small couch, bookshelves in every corner of the room―except for a huge box that lay atop a smaller table. The letter 'P' was carved onto the dark wood. Paris let curiosity get the best of her; she walked towards the box and reached to open it―

Until a sudden noise distracted her. She whipped around, strands of golden-brown hair lit by the sun from a window, and dancing in the air. Nothing stood behind her. A chill ran through her veins, up her spine, and to the hairs on her neck.

"Who's there?" she asked, as if whoever was there would answer. She pretended to reach in her pocket. "I've got a weapon."

A woman came out of the shadows in a long elegant dress, her golden hair bouncing on her shoulders. She smiled sardonically, the world breaking around her. Paris nearly fell backwards as a familiar voice said, "Honey, I highly doubt you've got yourself a weapon. In my experience, the only weapon is me."

Paris hesitated, one foot behind the other, wide-eyed. "You may be a weapon―but I'm the far better than yours."

"Then let's test your theory." Cressida grinned.

Cressida leaped to the air and disappeared into smoke, rising to the ceiling. Seconds later she appeared behind Paris who was unsure where she was. She attacked Paris's shoulder, smoke following her every moment like a second shadow. Paris fell forward from the blow and whipped around, remembering her training with Nick.

Another blow came at her gut and she fell next to the box on the table. Paris stood up, her nerves crying and tingling with pain. Cressida waved her hand gracefully in the air and soon dark smoke charged for Paris, knocking her against the glass window, broken glass shards cutting her clothes and skin. She felt weak and choleric.

The most ominous and foul feeling sat at the pit of her stomach. The world around her partially faded and a ringing noise blocked parts of her hearing. Suddenly the other windows shattered, the walls cracked, and Cressida flew across the room slammed against a bookshelf. Paris opened her eyes and saw the destruction around her; she felt the rage in her veins. She realized soon, that she had done this; she had caused things to combust spontaneously.

She looked down at her hands as if they didn't belong to her, and lifted her chin towards Cressida, with a ghost of a smile.

Paris put her hands in front of her and gusts of wind jerked Cressida back and forth. Her skin marked with cuts, lips bleeding.

She heard Aggie's voice in her head, "We shall trap this evil in a box, a cursed box."

She walked closer to Cressida and saw the darkened fire burn in her eyes, the color consumed by evil. Paris lifted a hand and waved it; Cressida hitting the table. She tried again, nearly about to fall from lightheadedness; but she wouldn't let this stop her. With the flick of a wrist, Cressida came flying into the box with an impact so hard, the box closed and locked so tight no power on Earth could destroy it. The box remained hidden and unopened for eternity.

For the evil of Earth, when curiosity comes, shall be followed by hope, and the healing of wounds.

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Thank you for reading this far and I hope you enjoyed it.
My apologies for the crappy ending; maximum 9k words for this book.