The Villianess story: A 100 ways to kill your husband-Chapter 363: The wrong girl

The temple stood in the heart of the forest hidden by its ruins, hidden by thick trees and cloaked in silence. Cracked stones lined the floor, dark with age and dried stains no rain could wash away. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth, smoke, and something bitter like burnt flowers and blood.

The flames flickered across the cold stone walls, making shadows stretch and twist. In the middle of the temple stood several stone caskets, long and narrow. One of them had just been opened.

A quiet sound echoed low and muffled. It came from within the casket, the whimper of a girl still breathing.

The priestess stepped forward, her movements slow and deliberate. She was tall, her veil thin enough to show her pale face but keeping her identity anonymous. Her fingers, covered in rings, hovered over the girl like a spider ready to strike.

"She’s the right age," she murmured, voice cold and soft like falling ash. "Her skin is smooth. Pure. The goddess would be pleased."

The ladies of the moon didn’t offer sacrifice just for immortality but for power and influence. All of them were extraordinary beauties, and the main criterion to join them was a face that could kill. It was a beauty that chilled the bone. Their faces were still, their eyes sharp. They were not saints or saviours. They were killers.

The other women said nothing. They watched. Waiting. None of them cared about Hope’s desperate cries; she was no different than a lamb to them.

The girl inside the casket trembled, her wide eyes shining with tears. Her hands were bound, and a silken ribbon gagged her mouth. Hope tried to move, to twist away but there was nowhere to go.

The priestess smiled faintly. "Open the next Casket." the priestess chimed, she wasn’t interested in this one.

The next one had her interest. The stone cover screeched as it moved, grinding against each other. Another lady was exposed, one with radiant skin, blue eyes and ginger hair.

She was also in the same misery as Hope, but she knew it was over. There was no escape.

Around them, the wind picked up, howling faintly through the broken archways. One torch blew out. The others burned brighter. The room temperature dropped the wind, putting off all the torches.

"This isn’t the girl," the princess’s voice boomed; the other shuddered, scared of her anger. The delicate girl in the casket tried to cry, goosebumps crawling up her skin as danger drew close

The torches lit again, and one of the ladies spoke, "But she matches the descriptions, dedicated pale skin, red lips like cherry, ginger hair that looks like the sunset with beautiful blue sapphire eyes."

Her head snapped at the one that spoke, her torch growing brighter. "So you brought a substitute after failing to get the original. I thought we had a plan in place, or did I have to spell it out? The one we need is Abrielle Nightshade, the wife of Cedric Von Drakkar."

She barked, and they all went silent, too scared to talk. Hope’s eyes went wide recognizing Abrielle’s name.

The priestess’s eyes fell on one of the ladies who was too scared to speak. "Speak, what happened to Abrielle? We already commissioned Death’s Bite to kidnap her and made the sorcerers attack to keep the prince busy. All that was left was to pay the mercenaries and collect her. She is the one Maledicta craves her blood."

The priestess demanded answers. Everything was carefully planned? They have been watching the princess for months waiting for the right opportunity they might not get again.

"We were about to get her as planned, but Jocelyn insisted on giving her to us after the Culling, but on the night of the Culling, Cedric attacked. We have no idea how it truly happened because our sisters that were there could barely escape."

The priestess went silent, a storm brewing in her eyes.

"Are they still alive?" She asked.

Another spoke."We don’t know if they escaped or are being held captive, but we haven’t gotten any word from them. That’s why you found a substitute from another Kingdom. It was the closest resemblance."

The ginger girl did share a good resemblance with Abrielle. If you don’t stare at the face for too long, you won’t tell the difference. The priestess clicked her tongue irritatedly.

"Her blood means nothing to the goddess, keep her alive for now. A use might arise, but if any of you catch a glance of the missing sisters that failed their mission, kill them at first sight."

The priestess’s words were the law they could not defy. The Doppelganger eyes relaxed knowing they were going to kill her yet.

A dagger was given to the priestess, one made of iron. Plain iron. She gracefully walked towards Hope’s casket; her movements were truly refined, and her face relaxed despite the storm in her eyes.

She raised her hand holding the dagger, her eyes going cold. "Accept our offerings oh great Maledicta."

Hope’s muffled scream echoed, blood drenching the white dress she had on. The dagger was plunged into her heart. Hope’s eyes go dull and lifeless

In her last moments, she thought of her bubbly sister, Betty. The ladies said Abrielle was rescued meaning Betty might have escaped. Her last wish was for Betty to get back home safely. Her only regret was not being strong enough to stop Betty from leaving home that night.

The priestess clicked her tongue then her voice boomed. "The storm will still come, but to win, we must have the holy lady’s blood. We must have Abrielle Nightshade’s blood." Her voice pierced through the air. Lighting flashed above them. frёeωebɳovel.com

The cloud rumbled a loud thunder echoing jolting Abrielle from sleep. The image of blood and golden hooded figures flashed in her eyes.

"It’s just the thunder," she heard Cedric’s calm voice try to soothe her nerves as he pulled her closer.

Her hands clutched his shirt and she buried her face in his chest. She was trembling in his hands. "Something scarier than the thunder is coming." She said, not understanding her vision. The thunderstorm continued, and then it started raining heavily again.