The possessed Saintess

~4~

"I love you, Alya Whitmore. I crave your touch, I desire your voice, I need you to be by my side." Her words were a declaration of profound affection, spoken amidst the turmoil and pain, a testament to the enduring bond between them.

The saintess broke into tears leaning her forehead onto Roby's.

"We mustn't…"

"Let's run away."

Roby's sudden burst of energy ignited Alya's senses, and she was instantly on her feet, hand tightly clasped with her friend's. Together, they sprinted through the meadow, and the world around them transformed in the blink of an eye. They found themselves hurtling down a narrow forest path, the ground beneath them uneven and challenging, each step accompanied by heavy, labored breaths. Sweat streamed down their faces, their exertion mirrored in the glistening beads that clung to their skin.

Amidst the pounding of their hearts and the rush of the wind in their ears, the cacophony of panic and chaos grew louder. Distant shouts filled the forest, and Alya's ears registered the ominous swish of arrows being shot.

"No matter what you do, don't look b--" Roby's words were abruptly cut off as she came to an abrupt stop. Her eyes widened, and slowly, her gaze shifted downward, revealing the chilling sight of an arrow lodged through her chest. Pain etched across her face, but despite the agony, she mustered a serene smile, a silent message of love and sacrifice meant for Alya alone.

Alya's heart sank as she met Roby's gaze. There were no words, but in that moment, a profound understanding passed between them. Roby's smile conveyed not just love, but also an unspoken plea for Alya to keep moving, to survive, to remember the bond they shared even in the face of tragedy.

"I love you…and I always will. I do not regret a single thing."

The sudden and sharp sound of a slap echoed through the room, followed by an intense stinging sensation that radiated across Alya's cheeks. It was a physical jolt that cut through the air, leaving her momentarily disoriented and bewildered.

With wide eyes filled with fear, Alya turned her gaze towards her stepmother. Her heart raced, and her breath caught in her throat as she met the steely, disapproving gaze of the woman who was supposed to care for her. In that fleeting moment, their eyes locked, and Alya saw not a nurturing figure but a face contorted with disgust and anger.

The room seemed to grow colder, the atmosphere thick with tension and unspoken grievances. Alya's cheeks still tingled from the slap, but the pain was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil that gripped her. She felt vulnerable, trapped in a situation where her fear and her stepmother's disdain converged into a heartbreaking realization that this was her harsh reality.

"I should've killed that witch earlier. Good thing your sister caught you guys planning to run away."

The room was plunged into a sudden and chaotic disarray as the door swung open violently, crashing against the wall with a resounding thud. The intruder stormed in, their voice a piercing scream that filled the space.

"WHAT DID YOU DO? WHY... WHY! YOU SHOULD'VE KNOWN THAT THIS WOULD END BAD!"

Alya turned, her eyes widening in surprise and alarm at the furious figure that had barged in. It was Jungdea, his usually calm demeanor shattered, replaced by a whirlwind of anger and accusation. His voice trembled with a mixture of fear and rage, directed squarely at Alya.

Torn between the shock of Jungdea's outburst and her own inner turmoil, Alya could only manage a feeble response.

"Jungdea..." Her voice wavered, unable to find the words to explain the situation or to soothe her friend's overwhelming emotions.