Just before the break of dawn, Maya returned. The darkness was still thick, and Elena was taken aback by her sudden appearance.

"It's time to move somewhere more comfortable," Maya said, opening the door with a smile.

Contrary to Maya's expectations, Elena hesitated. Terror seemed to grip her at the thought of what she might do.

Maya held her breath for a moment, then stepped into the darkness where Elena had taken shelter, and gently grabbed her arm for encouragement. The touch, however, made Elena jump back as though it were the first human touch she'd ever experienced.

Observing the deeply traumatized girl, Maya pressed her lips together and summoned her patience. In Maya's mind, it was inconceivable that someone in Elena's state could pose any danger. She appeared pitiful, nothing more.

As she glanced around, the disarray of the place struck her. This wasn't an environment anyone could live in, so she knew she needed to convince Elena to leave with her.

Elena consented on one condition—Maya must keep her distance.

For the first time since her demise, Elena glimpsed the world beyond the dim, cramped basement, which held nothing but a pair of dilapidated washing machines and a rusty sink.

Despite nothing holding her back, Elena didn't bolt. She followed Maya silently, slipping into their dorm room, which was now darkened by blacked-out windows.

Under the lamp's light, Maya finally saw Elena clearly. She looked tormented, grubby, still wearing the same dress she had when she died. Maya wondered why Elena hadn't changed into the fresh clothes she'd provided.

Elena stood motionless in their room as Maya closed the door, regarding the familiar space as if it were completely foreign to her.

"I can't stay here," Elena started toward the door.

"It's fine. The light won't come through," Maya reassured her as she instinctively reached to grab Elena's sleeve.

Elena, however, dodged it with a swift, jerking motion.

"Light is the least of my worries," she snapped. "I can't be in the same space as you!" Immediately regretting her harsh tone, Elena admitted quietly, "I'm not in control. I… don't want to hurt you."

Not understanding what Elena meant, Maya offered encouragement, "You're managing well at the moment."

"I won't when… I sleep…" Elena mumbled, then her raw gaze confronted Maya. "You can't seriously be comfortable with me here."

Elena's dark blue eyes studied Maya with the wary intensity of a stray cat, distrustful of humans.

"What are you suggesting then?" Maya challenged softly. "Do you want to go back to that cold basement?"

Elena winced at that thought. "I shouldn't be here…" she murmured.

They lingered in silence.

'Why was sleep a problem specifically? Does she need something like a coffin to rest in?' Maya's thoughts ran wild.

"What if we chain you to a bed when you sleep? Would that work?" Maya suggested, half seriously.

However, Elena gave a serious answer, "I have no idea…"

🜺🜺🜺🜺

After their exchange, eager to find a solution, Maya left to find someone selling chains—a pointless errand. It only demonstrated how desperate she was to have Elena back.

It left Elena to her own devices, alone in an unlocked room. Not that a mere lock could stop her. Unlike the basement with its iron bars on windows and steel door, her obstacles here were only a flimsy wooden door and drywall.

Amazed at how gullible Maya was to leave a predator unsupervised where she wouldn't have to go far to find her next prey, Elena scoffed to herself.

'This girl was meant to save the world, and she so easily put trust in a monster wearing her friend's face.'

'We should make her learn her lesson.'

With ugly thoughts filling her head, Elena stepped into the small bathroom and turned the faucet to fill up the tub.

In the well-lit space, she was able to look at herself in the mirror for the first time since her demise.

She was coated in dirt, dust, blood, and grime, making her feel filthy. In her ruined dress, she resembled a monster from a nightmare. Her reflection in the mirror showed dark, hungry eyes, making it seem as if the creature was ready to pounce.

'What am I?'

She didn't like the answer that was presenting itself to her.

Elena Petrova, the most powerful water mage of her generation. That was who she was supposed to be.

She couldn't have just died. She was smarter than that, strong enough to protect herself.

'You truly are a beauty…' the raspy voice of her murderer echoed in her mind. It was the observation he first made when he had captured her alone outside that night. '…With a spine, too,' he had amusedly concluded when she put up a fight.

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The memory was interrupted by the recollection of the sound of her own spine snapping… so easily.

'Was… No longer is…'

'Who is this, then?'

Her head felt crowded, but there was only one reflection staring back at her.

Turning away from the mirror, she stepped into the water, still fully dressed, desperate for solace and the comforting embrace of her element.

Undae filia — that's who she used to be.

But it was only water…

'No…!' a desperate plea echoed in her mind.

She submerged herself in the bathtub filled with tepid water. Though it only felt tepid for her, as her tolerance for cold had drastically increased.

The basement she had spent days in sometimes reached sub-zero temperatures—more than enough to kill a living person from hypothermia. But Elena was already dead.

The cold could bite at her skin, but never win. Yet she still hated the feeling.

'Cold and abandoned… It always repeats.'

The faucet was still running.

Elena had spent countless days in that room, sitting on the cold concrete floor in complete darkness, alone with her thoughts. The unfamiliar, barely-present odour of her skin, the slow rot of the blood on her clothes, the filth that clung to her, the damp and dusty space around her, each sensation coming to her in waves, overwriting her senses and conflicting with what was written in her memory. Most physiological processes seemed to slow down or completely halt, and her preferences for smells and tastes began to change.

Elena felt as if she didn't know this body; it didn't belong to her. Her mind kept torturing her with memories from her past and new desires she didn't want to have.

It became common to daydream about sinking her teeth into the flesh of others, to relish in the idea of letting out their blood and using it to quench her thirst. If she could, she'd submerge her whole self in the warm, crimson liquid to reach ecstasy.

Food no longer appealed to her, nor seemed necessary. To satiate her hunger, only the life-giving crimson substance came to mind.

And the process of feeding… in her thoughts, had become somehow inexplicably… erotic.

Elena could no longer see a physical desire for another without thirsting for their blood.

Feasting on blood was now an expression of hatred, desire, and indifference. People she wished to murder in the most gruesome way, and the ones she wanted to worship like an idol, their blood simply had to be spilt.

Living like this was… repulsive.

'Do you think we fought so hard to live only to be satisfied to die like a dog on the street?'

'But I don't want to live as a mere slave to my urges either.'

The bath was now overflowing.

However, none of that was worse than the fact that she could no longer feel the connection with her Element. Sitting in water was no different from sitting in wet liquid. There was no comfort. Her domain had shut its doors on her.

In her life, it was perhaps the only thing that felt truly hers. It wasn't something stolen from another, but a gift received unprompted. And now it was gone, taken from her… extinguished.

The sound of footsteps sloshing through water came from the room.

Initially, they stepped uncertainly in place, echoing the confusion of their owner upon entering the water-logged room. Then, the hesitant shuffle evolved into a hurried dash toward the bathroom door.

The next moment, Maya appeared in the doorway, her face etched with concern.

Elena didn't look at her, didn't acknowledge her. It was only in the corner of her eye that she could see Maya's shape. But she knew the exact expression she made without glancing at it. Maya ran to turn off the faucet.

"Are you trying to flood the entire dorm?"

There was no reaction.

"Elena?"

Elena finally turned her gaze toward Maya, as though she had only just registered Maya's presence.

"It's just water," she said, as if she were trying to make Maya feel better about the mess.

But those weren't words you'd want to hear from a Child of Water. The implications behind them were nothing short of chilling.

Maya stared at Elena, unsure of how to comfort her. She couldn't fathom how it felt to lose an element. Maya assumed losing even one would be devastating, but losing your only one… Even though Elena didn't shed tears, Maya felt an urge to cry for her loss.

"The store wasn't open," Maya said finally, a few sobs escaped her.

"Of course not," Elena said flatly.

"Elena… your clothes," Maya's voice quivered.

Elena looked down at her body. She was still fully clothed. To her, it didn't matter whether she wore clothes or not—she was dead regardless. However, her state was clearly causing Maya distress. After all, humans don't typically bathe in their clothes.

She sat still for a beat longer, then turned her head slightly, just enough to acknowledge Maya's voice.

"I need to take a bath," she said.

Maya let out a weak, joyless chuckle, uncertain if Elena was making a deadpan joke. There was absurdity in hearing that from a person already in a bath.

"I'll leave you to it," Maya said, giving her a supportive smile while wiping away her tears.

She got up and walked toward the door. There, she paused, looking back at Elena once more, before closing it behind her.

Elena was alone, once again. She could hear Maya trying to quietly soak up the water in the room, no doubt using her magic. Elena frowned and ripped the already torn dress off herself. She wanted Maya to be enough reason for her to live, but she wasn't.

Without her Element, she felt forever broken—incomplete. She cursed at her selfish nature, she cursed at the one who made her this way, who murdered all light in her life. And there came one more reason for her to live…

Payback.

Her mind was set on killing the one who decided to make himself her maker, her god. As a young girl, she had learned to refuse gods set upon her, as gods could only be evil in her mind.

He'd called her his princess, his child, but she was going to show him he created a monster—his own demise.

Elena stepped out of the tub, cleaned, and stood in front of a mirror again.

At first look, there stood a girl who looked just like she used to, but her eyes could discern the subtle difference.

Her skin was fairer, clearer, with not a trace of blemishes or imperfections left. The lines of her face were sharper, more defined, and her lips kept colour. Her hair was smooth and shiny. Her complexion, although pale, seemed healthier, but the scars she suffered and the markings on her skin stuck.

The vicious bite on her neck remained slightly noticeable, her burnt fingers almost completely healed, her posture corrected, and her waist even narrower.

She looked at herself thinking: 'What a perfect design…'

Non-keen-eyed would never notice the changes, but they worked to make her more attractive. Nothing was more effective at luring prey than appearing like a young, fertile woman.

She scoffed. Her appearance was promising life, but she was only bringing death.

It was nothing new for her. She already knew how to use her appearance to her advantage. And, oh boy, was she going to make use of it.

She was a vengeful person in life; why should her death be any different?

The voice inside her head—her only company in that basement—liked the idea. The whispers at the back of her mind had coalesced into a singular voice, a mirror of her own. Her death had given birth to a tormentor within her own consciousness. It existed purely to perpetuate her misery, day and night, but at least there was one thing they agreed on.

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