Lorelei’s soul and body screamed. Burning agony flowed like molten lead through her veins. Through blurring eyes, she could see red droplets raining on the floor.

‘Such a pretty color,’ she thought as the scarlet of blood displaced the sparkling snowflakes that danced in front of her. In a couple of heartbeats, all she could see was red.

Akin to a wind-swept candle, her mind flickered in and out of focus, but even its few moments of sharpness were soon engulfed by the shadows of gruesome nightmares. That soul-tearing pain. Those cold, glittering sparks. They were somehow so familiar. So terrifying.

Through ringing ears Lorelei could hear the distraught stuttering of Bessie that was almost drowned by Duncan’s loud voice.

“I… I… sh-she s-suddenly started b-bleeding. I d-don’t know w-why…”

“You deaf, girl! Go bring the infirmarian!”

“Y-yes. I’ll… be right back.”

“Hurry!”

Bessie ran out of the room like some sort of demon was chasing her. For some reason, the sound of the maid’s fading steps made Lorelei feel a surge of relief.

“My lady.” Duncan leaned over her, the panic and indecisiveness in his voice so unlike his usual steadfast demeanor. “What should I do? How can I help? I should bring you to bed-”

“N…o,” rasped Lorelei. “Stay… put.”

With utmost effort, she rolled on her back and remained lying on the cold slabs, sticky blood still flowing out of her nose. Her heart galloped and after each labored breath, she expected to feel the dreadful nausea again. First was nosebleeding, then retching blood, then bleeding through the eyes and ears, and in the end - blood coming from all other orifices followed by death. She had a few hours at most. Maybe even minutes.

Despite her waning senses, Lorelei bit her teeth and clawed her way out of the depths of unconsciousness. She ignored the pain. She had felt worse. She suppressed the nightmares. It was useless to fear now. She didn’t want to give up yet!

Tears welled in her eyes. Noah! She would never see him again. She should have told him she loved him. There had been so many chances, so many missed opportunities. She should have accepted his kiss that night. Now it was all too late!

But despite all odds, the nausea didn’t return. Lorelei’s labored breathing calmed down and the pain in her body dwindled to a dull, persistent ache. She suddenly sat up, scaring Duncan out of his wits.

“Duchess!”

“S-something… isn’t right.” She coughed, clearing her throat. With the sleeve of her shift, she rubbed her face and stared at the remnant blood stains. “It’s clotting.”

“Isn’t that a good thing.” The old knight knelt before her, still keeping a safe distance, but his worried face seemed to relax considerably. “Gods be my witness, you gave me quite the fright! I’m glad you-”

“It shouldn’t be clotting.” Lorelei bit her lips and her thoughts galloped. “I shouldn’t be able to sit and talk with you like this. I should be drowning in my own blood right now.”

“Pfui! Don’t you even think of such things, my lady! Thank the saints, you are feeling better!”

“No, Sir Duncan.” Lorelei stared at him. “You don’t understand. The moment the bleeding starts, there is no getting better. Our bodies have a finite amount of humors and the plague purges out every last drop of our blood.”

“I’ve witnessed enough unimaginable events to know that miracles do exist!” Duncan shrugged. “And right now, I wouldn’t mind some godly intervention.”

“A miracle?” Lorelei frowned and chewed on her lip. “Could be, but still… Say, how is Lady Nelini doing?”

“As grumpy as a caged bear, but other than that - completely fine.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” mumbled Lorelei and counted on her fingers. “She found the first body. Then we had the second death two days later and after that - two more in the span of six days. And then Madame Gilbert died yesterday. So it’s been… over eight days?! This isn’t right!”

“What do you mean?” A sharp note snuck into Dincan’s voice and his face clouded.

“Usually the first symptoms of the Blood Plague take seven days to manifest. She should have shown some signs already.”

“Maybe she wasn’t afflicted,” said Duncan coldly and clenched his jaw. “Not everyone succumbs to the plague.”

“You are mistaken, Sir Duncan.” Lorelei rubbed her neck and felt the vigor slowly returning to her drained body. “As long as you come in contact with the plague, you get infected. But as long as you don’t start bleeding through your orifices, you have a chance of recovery. Has she reported any fever and tremors?”

“No”

“What about her eyes?” Lorelei’s brows drew together. “Are they bloodshot?”

“If you mean like from crying-”

“No. All of the eyes’ whites become deep-red in color.”

“No.”

“Then what about any bruise-like patterns or bursting veins on her skin?”

“None.”

“Maybe you haven’t seen them clearly because of her dark complexion.”

“My lady,” Duncan’s tone was chilling, “be it fair or dark-skinned doesn’t matter. I know very well what a bruise looks like.”

“It doesn’t fit!” Lorelei ignored the old knight’s threatening demeanor. “Weakness, fever, bruised skin, bloodshot eyes, and then external bleeding and death. Those are the stages of the Blood Plague. Sir Duncan, are my eyes bloody?”

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“That…” He blinked at her and gasped. “They are!”

“It makes no sense.” Lorelei shook her head and then twisted her body with some effort so that her back faced the old knight. Her loosened shift revealed her shoulder blades. “Tell me, are there any bruises on my skin?”

“I…” Duncan coughed. “I see nothing.”

“Maybe it’s lower.” Lorelei stood up on her still wobbly feet. The rustling behind her indicated the old knight scrambling up. “Forgive my indecency, Sir Duncan, but I need to be sure.”

Saying that, she pulled the shift further down until it reached her hips.

“S-saints!” Duncan gulped and his voice thinned. “Noah will skin me!”

“What do you see?”

“Nothing. I saw nothing. Put your clothes back on, girl… my lady.”

“Are you sure? Did you have a good look?”

“Damn it. I did. Your back is fine. Cover yourself already!”

With a burning face, Lorelei tightened the sift and turned around to meet the utterly flustered Duncan. If the situation wasn’t that serious, she’d find the old knight’s expression hilarious.

“There is no logic.” She dragged herself to the bed and sat down. “This sickness is jumping stages? It shouldn’t be.”

“So what does this mean?” The old knight had somewhat regained his composure.

“No idea.” Lorelei rubbed her temples. “But one thing is for sure. I need to see the infirmarian’s notes on all the victims.”

***

Bessie ran through the echoing hallways and her heart was about to burst.

She had made a terrible mistake! They almost caught her, but she couldn’t control herself. It was the hunger’s fault. The tantalizing smell of a fresh soul had tempted her to do something foolish. But how could she have known that the duchess was a monster?

Bessie cursed and ran even faster, ducking behind pillars and hiding in the shadows of statues and doorways the moment she heard someone approaching.

She had been so close to breaking her shackles, but now, her spirit was damaged yet again. It was almost ripped to shreds and sucked out the moment she had tried to devour the duchess’ soul. This was insane! How could a Limerian do this to her? Was it a protection charm? A guardian talisman? Some other force she didn’t know? It felt so foreign and terrifying.

No, she had to calm down. It didn’t matter what guarded the duchess. An ignorant Limerian like her would likely not even notice that her soul had almost been ripped out. After all, those fools all thought the recent deaths were due to a disease. All she had to do was hunt one, no, two more souls and then find a secure place to absorb them. Then her transformation would be complete and the carnage could begin. No. Not carnage. Retribution!

“Just a bit longer,” hissed Bessie and her lips stretched in a vicious smile. “You’ll all die, you dral-kudashi!”

For anyone gifted with true sight, the air around Bessie began to shimmer like she was amidst a silver snowstorm. But there were also thin wisps of darkness mixing with the soul-dust. They rose from her skin like a myriad of fine tentacles, wiggling and hungrily licking everything in search of a living prey. Surrounded by a curtain of black miasma, the girl’s features blurred and contorted into something grotesque. Something evil, merciless, and no longer alive.

From her hiding place behind the marble likeness of some Limerian holy woman, Bessie observed two priests arguing in hushed voices several paces from her.

“What are you doing here, Father Ignatus? Who told you to leave your post?” The taller cleric’s voice was cold and domineering, reminding Bessie of that horrible beast-of-a-man Ambrosinus. They were the same kind, those heartless bastards - serving some false gods, trampling on others, and enjoying their screams and anguish. They all deserved what was coming!

“Forgive me, Your Holiness!” The plump priest fidgeted a bit. “I was worried. The duchess never misses a visit, but she didn’t come yesterday. And just now, Novice Antony told me about-”

“You left that Binshi unattended! You defied your orders!”

“Quell your anger, Your Holiness. It’s just for a bit, and I left Novice Antony to look after her.”

“Still-”

“I know I did wrong and I will repent and accept your punishment. But let me meet with the duchess one last time. The poor child must be so scared and desperate. She didn’t deserve such a fate. Please, Your Holiness, allow me to be there for her final moments.”

“You are turning soft and senile with age, Ignatus” The bishop snorted. “Your holy powers are second only to mine, so your main duty is to protect this temple and everyone in it, not just the duchess.”

“It’s not like the girl can break free from your barrier.” The plump priest pleaded, holding his ground. “Allow me to at least say goodbye.”

Swallowing a vicious grin, Bessie emerged from her hiding place, managing to plaster a distraught expression all over her face.

“Venerable F-Fathers!” She rushed to them and bowed. “Please, please help. T-the duchess, she…”

“What happened to the duchess?” The cold voice of Bishop Petronius was like a whiplash.

“S-she went crazy!” Bessie licked her lips and couldn’t control her shaking body. Those tasty souls were almost in her reach. “She just attacked me and broke out of her room. I didn’t know what to do!”

“Merciful Gods!” Father Ignatus gasped.

Next to him, Bishop Petronius seemed more angry than distraught.

“Where is she now?” he asked coldly.

“F-follow me.”

Turning on her heels, Bessie ran off without looking back. She was sure that those two would follow. Elation engulfed her and she almost screamed from happiness. The stars were finally giving her their blessing. After so much misfortune and suffering, she was finally given the chance to get her revenge.

Soon, their small party reached the now-abandoned main hall. Piles of debris still covered the floor and the clouded morning sky peeked through the gaping hole in the roof. There was no soul to be seen. Ever since the announcement of the Red Plague, all work had been discontinued. There were more pressing matters at hand than clearing some rubbish.

“Duchess!?” Father Ignatus shouted and frantically looked around. “Where is she?”

“T-there.” Bessie bit her lips and pointed to the far corner of the hall that was littered with huge chunks of broken masonry.

“What is she even doing here?” Bishop Petronius frowned and slowly followed Father Ignatus who was already running towards the mountain of rubble. “Your Highness! Come out!”

“Don’t be afraid, my lady! We-” The plump priest suddenly went quiet.

“What is it? Did you find her? Is she alive?” The bishop hurried after him.

“She… isn’t here?!” Confusion twisted Father Ignatus’ face. “Where could she…?”

Before he could finish the sentence, three spikes forged from pure darkness stabbed his chest.

“Ignatus!” Bishop Petronius froze for a second, staring at his impaled companion.

This sealed his fate. A web of black miasma twisted around his body, healing his limbs and gagging his mouth. No matter how hard he struggled, the burning darkness didn’t even budge.

“Hush, Father.” A hissing voice whispered in his ear, making him shiver. “We don’t want to be disturbed by someone hearing your antics. Not that anyone would come here anyway. Not when the duchess is drowning in her own blood.”

Bishop Petronius twisted his neck and threw a poisonous glare at the woman standing next to him. No, not a woman but a creature from his darkest nightmares. After a couple of seconds, he closed his eyes in resignation, but his act didn’t fool Bessie.

Her claw-like nails bore in his stomach. The priest let out a muffled howl, but his agony only made her grin wider.

“Tisk, tisk! Trying to summon your holy powers? You think I’ll allow you to do that? Oh, stop squirming. It’s just a bit of pain. Don’t worry, I won’t kill you yet. First I’ll enjoy your chubby friend over there before he expires. Your time will come too. I’ll enjoy your soul slowly to the last drop. Then, I’ll feast on your precious duke and duchess.”