Chapter 15: Covered in light.
"I-I did it?"
Tuesday's voice trembled as she stared at the shadowed window, her eyes wide, disbelief written all over her face.
The mannequin had disappeared.
A crooked smile tugged at her lips.
She couldn't decide whether to cry in terror or laugh in relief. Somehow, she'd survived another impossible nightmare.
With shaky hands, Tuesday cautiously lifted the head of the Marie Antoinette doll.
Flip~
The doll's head was hurled into the air, only to be swallowed by a strange, dark energy.
Her gaze snapped back to the window, wariness replacing her earlier shock.
'...'
The seconds dragged on, but nothing stirred.
Her crooked smile grew into a wild, manic grin.
"I really did it!"
She shouted, her voice raspy and raw.
"Yes! Hahaha!"
Tuesday leaped around the room, tears blurring her vision.
"Did you see that, Homer?!"
Tap! Tap!
Her laughter spiraled into hysteria as she slapped the floor with her hands.
The spider hidden within her clothes recoiled even further. He could barely recognize his master anymore.
"Hahaha!"
She continued to laugh, hugging herself tightly.
She didn't know if she was laughing to keep the terror at bay, or if she had finally snapped.
Thud!
"Ahhh!!"
Suddenly, the entire room started to quake violently around her.
She curled into a corner, clutching her knees to her chest, her eyes darting wildly in every direction.
The room warped, bent, and twisted unnaturally.
"Ugh."
She landed hard on a cold, familiar floor.
Before her stretched the same empty, vast space as before.
The entire mansion had vanished.
"Am I… back?"
Her eyes darted across the room, her movements frantic and jittery.
Her behavior was erratic, but only when she was certain that everything was as it had been did she stand.
With uneven, hurried steps, she approached a peculiar door.
It was the door of the third trial.
A suffocating darkness seemed to leak from behind it, denser than anything she'd felt before.
Gulp.
She swallowed hard, her throat dry.
Her instincts screamed that no sane person would dare open that door.
Yet despite her trembling, Tuesday's eyes gleamed with a fierce determination.
She had survived two impossible trials on her own.
Instinctively, she knew this had to be the final one.
All the dark energy in this cursed place seemed to gather behind that door.
'I can do it.' she convinced herself.
If she waited any longer, Wednesday would wake up. While the thought of having her there brought some comfort, Tuesday didn't want her waking up just yet.
'This is not something a child should have to face.'
If Tuesday, an adult, had nearly collapsed under the pressure, how could she expect Wednesday, still just a child, to endure?
No matter how mature or clever Wednesday appeared, in Tuesday's eyes, she was still just a kid.
That thought gave her the strength to push through this nightmare.
Tuesday had never blamed Wednesday for opening the secret door. She blamed herself for being passive.
It wasn't Wednesday's fault. Tuesday, the adult, should have taken charge.
And now, she would bear that responsibility. Just as she had done twice before, she would save them.
Her hand reached for the door.
As she did, a thick, dark aura wrapped around her, making it hard to breathe.
Her danger sense hadn't kicked in, which meant opening the door wouldn't kill her outright.
She grabbed the handle and tried to turn it.
"Why won't it open?"
But the door stayed firmly shut.
"Is it not over yet?"
She had heard the message of completion after finishing the first and second trials.
That's why she had thought Wednesday had only opened the door and hadn't used the mannequin's finger to unlock it.
Her legs began to wobble pathetically and her body fell to the ground.
Her mind had been so tortured so far that she wouldn't have been shocked if her heart stopped right then and there.
Tuesday struggled to stand.
Her resolve was clear, but her body continued to rebel, threatening to give out.
'Why?'
Her trembling worsened, and it wasn't just fear coursing through her veins.
Something was invading her mind, trying to twist it.
Only one person could be responsible.
'Ugh-!'
A familiar voice echoed through her thoughts.
"Wednesday?"
Tuesday's eyes lit up with hope and expectation.
Those feelings made her ashamed of herself.
She decided to do it alone, but just hearing her voice made her heart beat with happiness and relief.
"Are you awake?!"
Her hoarse voice now carried a spark of vitality.
'...'
"Can you believe it? I defeated the mannequin!"
Her fingers trembled with anticipation, like a child eager to share her good grades with her parents.
"I wasn't scared at all, instead you should have seen him. I beat him so much that black came from his face!"
Tuesday began to recount everything that had happened while Wednesday was unconscious.
She threw herself into the retelling, using her entire body to illustrate each moment as if reliving the scene where she struck the mannequin.
Her arms flailed, her steps mimicked the frantic movements, and her expressions shifted dramatically.
Of course, she would never admit she'd exaggerated the stories just a bit to make herself seem cooler than she actually had been.
But in her mind, it didn't hurt to embellish the tale a little.
"I was so cool, right? Didn't you think I'm awesome?!"
But no matter how loudly she spoke, Wednesday remained silent.
"Even I can't believe I did it! But the door won't open for some reason-"
'Who are you?'
A cold, emotionless voice interrupted her monologue.
The tone was unfamiliar, and the intentions felt dangerous.
Tuesday instinctively sensed she was being judged from head to toe.
Her face flushed bright red with fear and shame.
"I admit I lied a little, but isn't that reaction too much?" she said, nervously fidgeting with her fingers.
Wednesday's reaction was completely different from what she had expected.
Regret and darkness overshadowed her once bright face.
But unaware of it, Wednesday's words only grew colder with each syllable.
'Why are you inside my body?'
Tuesday could feel a menacing aura radiating from within her own flesh.
The hairs on her body stood on end, and her fingers turned icy.
"S-Stop joking, Wednesday. This isn't funny..." she stammered, trying to control her fear, but the dangerous energy surging from her body only became wilder and creepier.
A consciousness struggled to take control.
Before the trial, Tuesday wouldn't have been able to resist.
But for some reason, Wednesday couldn't seize control.
'Are you part of this stupid cult too?'
Suddenly, her eyes turned red, and dark energy enveloped her body.
She felt the pressure of the strange force pressing against her.
Crack!
A sound came from her arm.
"Ah!!"
Tuesday screamed with pain, it was the second time she had broken her arm since she came to this trial.
'What are your intentions?'
"M-My what?!"
Crack!
A sound came of her finger being distorted in a strange direction.
"AAhh!!"
'I can do this all day.'
The familiar phrase was being spoken in an unfamiliar tone.
Tuesday's mind began to cloud with confusion. The situation was incomprehensible.
She couldn't understand why Wednesday was behaving this way, nor could she make sense of the strange energy pressing against her body.
Wednesday's aura seemed distorted and frightening—very different from the Wednesday she once knew.
"Ha... Ha..." she tried to regulate her breathing, just as Wednesday had always taught her.
Fortunately or unfortunately, the rising anxiety began to dull the pain, making her thoughts clearer.
"Wednesday, it's me, Tuesday. Don't you recognize me...?"
Her words conveyed concern and care for Wednesday, even through the pain of her broken limbs.
'So, it was you...'
Wednesday's words were slow, as though she was trying to remember.
Hope flickered in Tuesday's eyes.
Even though Wednesday was still acting strangely, if she could recognize her, everything would be okay.
But it was a shame her next words were far from hopeful.
'The one who manipulated my memories across all those regressions.'
Tunk. Tunk.
The spacious room was shrouded in blackness.
'It was you, wasn't it? The "thing" I needed to find.'
The room began to crack as Tuesday sensed a dangerous, dense energy of death radiating from it.
It was malicious, wild, and unfamiliar.
'The one who killed Enid.'
TUNK!
'And the one who put me in that hell.'
TUNK!!
[#1/#2/#NaN #@#%¨¨&%$#@!#]
A strange, androgynous voice filled the spacious room.
Squish!
Strange and huge tentacles emerged from the walls, approaching in all directions with assassin intentions.
Her danger sense was being triggered dangerously, but the voice inside her head remained cold.
'Why?'
A huge and grotesque tentacle stopped right before her eyes being held back by a strange dark energy.
'Why did you put me in that hell?'
Crack!
Her other arm was crushed by the strange dark energy.
"--!"
The pain was so much that Tuesday became speechless.
"Was it fun to play with people's emotions?"
Tuesday couldn't even listen to the voice in her mind.
She was scared.
She didn't understand why Wednesday was acting this way.
She had hoped that with Wednesday by her side, she could somehow overcome the situation, but now she wasn't sure of anything.
Sniff.
Tears fell from her face.
The pain, stress, and discomfort from the strange situation were overwhelming her.
She had already suffered enough trying to keep them alive.
Everything she did was for Wednesday's safety, and she had pushed herself to her limits.
But the person in her mind couldn't be her Wednesday.
"Help, someone."
She cried, her body hunched in despair. She just wanted to escape and forget this trial ever existed.
She wanted her Wednesday back, not this frightening entity asking strange questions.
Crack!
Once again, the sound of a limb breaking echoed in her mind.
"..."
But there was no reaction. Tuesday had lost her spirit.
She didn't want to think about anything else.
'Is it another failure?'
The cold voice came directly from her brain.
'Let's try again.'
"!"
Her lifeless eyes were filled with despair once more.
The image of her head being exploded by dark energy replayed in her mind.
The voice seemed intent on killing her.
Energy began to accumulate at the top of her body, pressing on her brain.
Unavoidable death.
She couldn't escape.
The life she had protected until now would vanish in vain.
As the energy neared the breaking point, Tuesday screamed with all her strength.
[STOP!]
The tentacle ceased its contortion, and the energy stopped condensing.
The world seemed to freeze at her words.
Finally, the images of her death stopped invading her mind.
"You are not my Wednesday."
Pure energy began to envelop her body.
If the black represented death, the white energy she was emitting symbolized life.
The distorted limbs were healed, and her eyes turned gold as she spoke.
"My Wednesday couldn't be ugly like you."
Tuesday decided to separate the voice in her brain from Wednesday, treating them as distinct entities.
Her face was twisted in disgust as if she were confronting a criminal.
"Give me her back."
She demanded like a tyrant.
Her voice carried a persuasive weight.
Wednesday felt a tremendous pain in her mind.
A pain even more intense than the world's intervention she always felt in the black dimension.
'Ugh—'
She tried to condense energy again, but it faded in the light.
"Give me her back!"
Strong words pierced her mind once more.
'Stop...'
The situation had reversed.
Wednesday felt her mind being tortured by the light energy, which suppressed her strength and weakened her.
Little by little, she began to forget again.
Wednesday fought to resist with all her might.
Golden tears, full of rage and stress, fell from her face.
Tuesday cried out in frustration.
[GIVE ME HER BACK!]
She screamed in the spacious room.
Squish—
The energy purified the tentacle that tried to reach her body.
[##%¨&**#@$]
Strange, androgynous, and confused voices filled the environment.
Suddenly, everything was covered in light.
A color Wednesday had never seen in the black dimension.
She was so captivated by the light that she forgot to resist.
The black energy always carried a distorted and uncomfortable intent.
But the light before her had an opposite nature.
She had misunderstood the being in front of her.
'Beautiful.'
Pure like the girl in the mirror.
Familiar like a lullaby.
And more comforting than her home.
Instead of resisting, Wednesday embraced her corruption.
For the first time in all the lives she had lived...
She felt she was in the right place.
***
VERY IMPORTANT NOTE
People don't want to read this arc no matter what. I made several remakes and improvements but people kept giving bad reviews. I feel I'm putting my efforts in the wrong place (.﹏.*).
After thinking for some days and overcoming my creative block to write this, I had just two options in mind. Comment on the one you like the most, it's a pool. The one with more comments being summed with the result of ScribbleHub will be the future of it.
1. Create a remake more focused on a slice of life with mystery as subplot similar to chapters 1-5.
2. I like this development, I want to see the sequel of this story as it is.
***
Author note
Has anyone noticed all the symbolism this chapter has? There are so many of my feelings that I feel exposed while reading it lol. As a rational type is both curious and shameful notice my subconscious in this chapter.
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