The Sickened Luna's Last Chance novel Chapter 237

+15 BONUS

Chapter 237

Ella

I waited.

And waited.

And… waited.

One by one, the other women in the room were called for their interviews. Slowly, the room began to drain, leaving me behind. Even Sophia got called before I did, strutting out of the room with her head held high and a triumphant smile on her face.

Meanwhile, I was left to rot.

I waited for so long that the exhaustion of the past few days finally began to catch up with me. Sitting on the plush sofa that I had once spent afternoons reading letsurely on made me realize how uncomfortable the cellar room was, and the crackling fire in the fireplace began to lull me to sleep.

Soon, I was beginning to nod off right there on the couch.

I fell into dreams of blood and death.

I dreamt of crimson liquid gushing from between my legs, washing my baby away in a red tide. I reached for him, trying to save him, but it was too late. He was drowning, being pulled beneath the bloody ocean by dark hands.

By the time I made it to where he had been, he was gone. I dug through the thickening blood, so thick it was almost like mud now, but he wasn’t there. Soon, those hands were pulling at me too, but pulling me

away.

Away from my son.

Away from Lucien.

And into the abyss.

A mirror floated in front of my face, revealing silver eyes and burgundy hair. A face that was my own but not quite stared back at me. I screamed, clawing at it until the flesh fell away to reveal another face.

My old face. But not the one I remembered seeing in the mirror–rather, one that was laying in a casket with her hands folded over her chest. Everything about it was slightly off.

I pulled at my hair, realizing that it was nothing more than a blonde wig that fell away the moment I touched it. Only thin wisps remained beneath. I wiped at my skin, peeling away the layers of thick makeup until I found the true color beneath.

1/3

Chapter 237

Pale. Pallid. Green.

Rotting already.

+15 BONUS

Worms began to wriggle beneath my skin. I felt it at first rather than saw it, but then one poked its slimy

head out from behind my eye, sending a milky blue eyeball rolling off into the bloody mud around me. I opened my mouth to scream, but only maggots fell out.

I was decaying already. The mud was burying me alive, six feet deep, too deep for anyone to hear my

cries.

This time, there were no hands. Only the hard interior of a coffin, the wood splintering and cracking to let the earth and the bugs in, the cool, musky dampness becoming the perfect environment to fester in.

And then came the smell of a fire. The sound of crumbling timbers. The echoes of a baby crying beyond the flames. Behind my eyelids, I saw strong arms in a black suit carrying my son away, away, away. The flames engulfed them.

By then, all that was left of me was a locket. And soon, that, too, would rot.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify