Chương 27: Chapter 26: My Little Girl

Christa walked silently down the dim, quiet corridors of the Altheris estate. The air felt unusually cold, heavy against her skin. She reached the heavy oak door of the nursery and pushed it open slowly, the hinges making no sound. A sickly green light spilled through the high arched windows, the wrong colour entirely for moonlight. Christa stepped inside. Elma was lying perfectly still on her mattress, her eyes closed, seemingly deep in sleep. But she was not alone. Sitting directly beside the bed was a young boy.

He was unnervingly pale, his features cast in dark shadows. He held Elma's small hand in his own. He did not move. He did not blink. He was completely, suffocatingly silent. Christa's breath caught in her throat. Her heart beating faster and faster as she took a trembling step forward. Her eyes darted over her daughter, searching for reassurance, but her gaze couldn't leave Elma's chest. She didn't see the pendant.

"Where is it!" She shouted, but the boy didn't answer. Blind panic seized her. Christa stumbled backward, her mind reeling, until her spine collided hard with something solid directly behind her. It didn't feel like a wall. It felt like a massive torso. Christa froze. Slowly, terrified, she turned around. Towering above her in the green gloom was a hulking, shadow-drenched monster. Its form was chaotic and horrifying.

Hanging mockingly from the center of its monstrous, twisted neck was Elma's golden pendant, glowing faintly in the dark. Christa gasped, spinning back toward the bed. The boy was no longer sitting. He was standing near the window, holding Elma's limp, unconscious body tightly in his arms. He finally turned his shadowed face toward Christa, his voice echoing in her mind.

"She is better with us," he whispered. Before Christa could scream, the monstrous entity behind her unhinged its jaw and lunged. Christa jolted upward, a terrified scream tearing through her throat. Her hands flew to her chest, her fingers clawing at her nightgown as she gasped for air. She blinked rapidly in the dark, the horrific green light replaced by the familiar, dim shadows of her own bedchamber. It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare.

She sat completely rigid on the edge of her mattress for a full minute, waiting for her violent trembling to subside. The oppressive silence of the estate pressed in on her ears.

"Elma." She threw the heavy blankets off her legs. Her bare feet hit the cold stone floor, and without bothering to grab a robe or a candle, she burst out of her room and sprinted down the corridor, heading straight for the nursery. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. As Christa sprinted blindly down the dimly lit corridor, her frantic footsteps echoing against the stone, a figure suddenly stepped out from the intersecting flank.

Anastasia grabbed Christa firmly by the shoulders, using her momentum to smoothly but forcefully pin her back against the corridor wall.

"Christa. Are you okay?" Anastasia asked, her voice sharp but laced with deep concern.

"I—I need to see Elma," Christa cried, thrashing weakly against Anastasia's grip. The sheer terror of the nightmare was still suffocating her.

"Please, let me go, I need to see her!"

"She is fine," Anastasia stated firmly, refusing to yield. Christa kept weeping, her chest heaving as the frantic energy that had been keeping her moving suddenly gave out. The terror she'd been holding back crashed over her all at once. Anastasia tightened her grip on Christa's shoulders and gave her a firm shake, just enough to stop her from spiraling further.

"Look at me," Anastasia commanded, her gray eyes locking onto Christa's tear-filled gaze.

"She is fine."

"I don't know what is wrong with me," Christa sobbed, burying her face in her hands.

"I had this dream... and... and…" She couldn't even bring herself to describe it. Every time she tried, the image of the shadowy beast and the pale boy rose to the front of her mind, choking the words before they could leave her mouth. Anastasia let out a soft sigh and lowered herself to the floor, sitting beside her on the cold stone.

"You are alright," Anastasia soothed, wrapping a warm arm around her and gently patting her back.

"Tell me. What is wrong?" That simple question broke the last of Christa's defenses. She collapsed into Anastasia's lap and burst into fresh tears, clutching at the older woman's dress as sob after sob shook her body.

"I'm so tired," Christa whimpered.

"Something is terribly wrong with Elma. I... I don't know what to do anymore." Her voice cracked.

"I'm so scared." Anastasia wrapped both arms tightly around the trembling mother, rocking her gently in the dark corridor.

"Oh, my little girl," she murmured.

"Everything will be alright. You will get through this. You've come to me with fears like this before, remember? And what do I always tell you?" She gently stroked Christa's hair.

"That things will be alright. And somehow, they always are. Trust me a little longer." Christa sniffled, drawing a shuddering breath as she leaned into the embrace. Anastasia pulled back just slightly, her eyes dropping to Christa's bare collarbone. Her brow furrowed.

"Do you still have your pendant?" Christa looked away, wiping her tear-streaked face.

"No. I gave it to Elma." Anastasia completely froze. A flash of profound, undisguised shock crossed her features.

"And what about you?" Anastasia asked, her tone shifting. She gently cupped Christa's cheek, forcing her to look up.

"See? This is exactly why this all happened to you. This panic, these nightmares... it is because you gave your protection away." Christa looked away, suddenly finding the stone floor far easier to face than Anastasia's eyes. Without another word, Anastasia reached behind her own neck and unclasped the Nanar's Crest resting against her collar. She held it out, the metal gleaming faintly in the dim light of the sconces.

"You should have told me before you did something like that," Anastasia scolded softly. She leaned forward, carefully wrapping the chain around Christa's neck and locking the clasp at her nape. Christa looked down at the gold, then back up at the older woman.

"But what about you?"

"I have another," Anastasia dismissed smoothly, waving a hand. She leaned back down, pulling Christa into another tight hug. When she spoke again, all the gentle warmth had vanished from her voice, replaced by an edge of chilling rage.

"No matter what happens in this world, Christa, you must never kneel before those false gods." Anastasia's grip tightened fractionally.

"The day will come when they answer for what they did to us." Christa swallowed hard, a shiver running down her spine at the force behind those words.

"I won't," she whispered.

"I know, my little girl," Anastasia murmured, her voice melting back into its familiar warmth as she pressed a kiss to the crown of Christa's head.