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We now return to the fateful night of Evaline’s abduction by the enigmatic stranger. Terror-stricken and barely conscious, Evaline sensed herself being carried down a steep descent, her captor’s movements purposeful and unyielding. They traversed a considerable distance on level ground before she was placed into a carriage, which hurtled forward at a breakneck pace. Though blind to her surroundings, Evaline’s mind conjured the horrifying image of a precipice, each jarring motion suggesting an imminent and fatal plunge.
At last, the vehicle halted. Evaline was lifted out, carried through a labyrinthine passage, and the groan of ancient hinges announced the opening of a door. Once inside, she was unceremoniously deposited on a bench, her terror overwhelming her into unconsciousness.
When she awoke, Evaline found herself seated on a black velvet fauteuil in a vast, shadowy chamber. The room’s oppressive gloom was only broken by the flickering light of a massive lamp, its flame casting grotesque shadows on the black marble walls. Supporting her was the stranger, his eyes cold and unrelenting. He held a large goblet filled with a potent liquid, pressing it to her lips and forcing her to drink. The powerful stimulant revived her but filled her with a strange, uncontrollable energy. She struggled against it, her will battling the foreign sensation.
“Drink!” the stranger commanded, his voice a harsh whisper. “You need your strength for what lies ahead.”
Evaline mechanically raised the goblet to her lips, but as she caught the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes, she flung it to the ground.
“Foolish girl,” he hissed. “That potion would have fortified you.”
Evaline averted her gaze from his, feeling the weight of his malevolent influence. Her eyes darted around the chamber, taking in its sepulchral atmosphere. The black marble walls and floor added to the sense of being entombed. Nearby, an estrade draped in black velvet held a table, upon which rested a lamp fashioned like a demonic imp, its wings supporting a cauldron. The lamp’s multiple burners cast a lurid glow, enhancing the room’s eerie ambiance.
A dagger with an ornate hilt was embedded in the table beside a mask, an open book, an antique inkstand, and a parchment inscribed with ominous characters. Dominating the lower end of the room, a massive black curtain concealed some unknown horror. Two jet-black vases stood sentinel at its base, adding to the chamber’s cryptic menace.
“What is behind that curtain?” Evaline asked, her voice trembling.
“You will see soon enough,” the stranger replied. “For now, sit in that chair and read the writing on the scroll.”
Evaline hesitated, but the stranger’s grip tightened as he led her to the chair.
“Read,” he commanded.
Evaline glanced at the document and shivered. “By this,” she read aloud, “I surrender myself, body and soul, to you?”
“You do,” the stranger affirmed, his voice dark with triumph.
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“I have committed no sin that warrants damnation,” Evaline cried, falling to her knees. “I call upon Heaven for protection! Begone, fiend!”
At her words, the cap of the lamp fell, plunging the room into impenetrable darkness. Mocking laughter echoed around her, mingling with wailing cries of inexpressible horror.
Evaline prayed fervently, her pleas for deliverance intertwining with thoughts of Anthony. Her prayers were interrupted by strains of exquisite music emanating from behind the curtain, followed by a deafening gong. The lamp’s cover lifted, and the burners reignited, bathing the room in a hellish light. Clouds of incense rose from the vases, filling the air with a cloying, stupefying fragrance.
Again, the gong sounded, and Evaline’s gaze was drawn to the curtain. Towering above the vases were two gigantic figures, cloaked in black, their faces hidden by monk-like hoods. Gleaming eyes peered from behind masks, their hands crossed upon their chests. At their feet crouched two other spectral figures, similarly attired, their fingers pointed mockingly at her.
A strong light behind the curtain revealed a staircase of black marble, leading to some unseen chamber. A gigantic shadow loomed against the drapery, a hand pointing ominously towards her.
Evaline covered her eyes, but curiosity soon forced her to look again. An ebony door revolved open, admitting three female figures, robed in black, hooded, and veiled. They advanced soundlessly, stopping a few paces from her.
“Who are you?” Evaline cried, her voice edged with hysteria.
“We are the victims of Anthony,” the figure on the right intoned. “As we are, so shall you be.”
“What crime have you committed?” Evaline demanded.
“We have loved him,” the second figure replied, their voices a haunting chorus in the oppressive gloom.
“Is that a crime?” Evaline cried out. “If so, I am equally guilty with you.”
“You will share our doom,” replied the third figure, her voice a chilling echo.
“Heaven have mercy upon me!” Evaline exclaimed, collapsing to her knees in desperation.
A voice, deep and terrible, boomed from behind the curtain, “Sign, or Anthony is lost forever.”
“I cannot yield my soul, even to save him,” Evaline replied, her voice trembling with anguish.
“Witness his punishment, then,” the voice commanded.
A side door creaked open, and Anthony was dragged forth by two masked figures, their garb reminiscent of Inquisition torturers.
“Do not yield to this fiend, Evaline!” Anthony’s voice was desperate, his eyes pleading.
“Will you save him before he is cast, living, into the tomb?” the voice taunted.
A heavy marble slab rose slowly from the floor near Evaline, revealing a dark, yawning abyss. She stared into the pit, her heart pounding with indescribable terror.
“There he will be immured, unless you sign,” the voice hissed. “As he is immortal, he will endure an eternity of torture.”
“I cannot save him that way, but I may precede him,” Evaline cried. With a final, desperate glance at Anthony, she threw her hands aloft and plunged into the pit.
A horrific scream echoed through the chamber. It came from Anthony, who struggled frantically against his captors, trying to follow her into the abyss.
Moments later, as Anthony gazed into the darkness, a tongue of blue flame erupted from the pit, danced eerily in the air, and then vanished. From the abyss, a figure shrouded in black slowly ascended, appearing to float without support, and stood motionless at the edge.
“Evaline!” Anthony’s voice was filled with despair. “Is it you?”
The figure nodded but remained silent.
“Sign!” the voice thundered again. “Your attempt at self-destruction has placed you wholly in my power. Sign!”
The figure moved toward the table. To Anthony’s horror, it picked up the pen and inscribed a name on the parchment. He leaned forward and saw the name: Evaline Thorneycroft.
A groan of utter despair escaped him, echoed by a roar of diabolical laughter. The figure moved away and joined the other veiled forms.
“All is accomplished,” the voice declared triumphantly. “Away with him!”