Immortal Hunt

The air pricked her lungs hastily before Celestine could take note of where exactly she was. Although it felt odd breathing, she did it for as many times as if she had not done it for a while. The flat surface beneath her back was unkindly rough and dusty. The unrefined soil may not be enough to scrape her skin but the earthy smell lingered.

Why am I in here?!

She recognized the thing where she was awkwardly situated and pushed the casket open. A blinding light beamed at her face, causing her to glint for few seconds. There were good times when she basked under the sun but enjoying the warmth of it now would be nothing but preposterous; not with her throat dried and lips chapped.

She felt strange. Everything was, actually. She did some efforts to take her body away from the wooden box that palpably served as her coffin. Terrified, she figured out the coffin was in a pit, and so was she.

She stood, taking mental estimations on how deep she was unsuccessfully buried underground. She was a meter deep in an open grave. The thought of being the corpse itself in a grave was scarier than seeing one. Her arms, albeit shaking, tried to lift her whole frame with the support of the lower part of her body. She tried few times before she succeeded and the second she was out, she was drenched in sweat. Her eyes took in the excavated topsoil that was abandoned on the ground.

They excavated the ground with the obvious intention of burying me but why did they leave it unfinished? Well, not that I’m disappointed, though.

It only took Celestine a while to realize that her body's sticky with grime, sweat, dried mud, and blood. A gasp escaped her lips noticing how thick the dried substance smeared her torn dress and voluptuous frame. The splotches that were surely blood seemed to be long devoid of its natural moisture so it appeared few darker shades of red, nearly maroon, to her eyes. The mud did not do any better to make her a little cleaner than she was now. 

The rustling leaves of the proud trees around her caught her attention, and soon piqued her interest. She wanted to know if she's at the forest's core and what to find if ever she was not hapless enough to find her way out. She looked up, wondering why the warmth left her skin, only to discover that the sky's already dismal, with threatening clouds hanging beneath it. The temperature dropped to a bit colder and more menacing. It's a reflex to hug her arms as she took more steps that led to nowhere.

She did not know where she was or even where she should go. She simply wandered, not worrying about anything, and though ironic it may seem, she was worrying not even worrying. But as soon as the uneasiness crept at her insides, she shrugged it off, somehow managed to console herself.

Better wander than being stuck here fearing the unknowns.

After what felt hours of walking with multiple unfortunate trips, she heard a stupendous gush of water. She followed where the sound was coming from, with a quick and sharp turn to her left, there it was—a river. The sight of it sent sudden itchiness on her skin. Her exterior screamed for the freshness it could get from the crystal-clear water.

I'd never wanted a bath this much before!

Her feet endured the intermittent pains due to the scrapes of wild, unfriendly rocks she failed to avoid. The ground and grass got damper as she walked nearer the river bank. She rashly ensconced herself along the riverside. She could not get filthier than what she was now, could she? She eagerly scooped sufficient amount of water and shivered after it touched her face.

Preparing herself for the chills of the river, she took few deep breaths and jumped. With barely opening her eyes while she was rubbing her face again and again, she found a huge rock formation with a crevice at its side, enough to hold onto and keep her from being dragged along with the current.

The river's intense coldness was hidden from the shallow part. She almost shrieked as her whole body met the freezing temperature underwater. She might have let go off the rock had she allowed the icy water steal her attention from her firm hold. With just a hand to wash those disagreeable substance from her body, it obviously consumed her time. Having a satisfying bath, she lifted herself to land, leaving only her legs soaked. Her breaths were now smooth and even, unlike the earlier ragged ones.

She eyed her body intently. Aside from the recent scratches of her feet that she had gotten from her rise, there was no severe, evident injury that may have resulted the excessive blood stains on her silky, white dress. She even examined her body if it was currently suffering from an unbearable pain, and again, there's none. She was about to drink, when she almost lost her balance the moment her reflection came to sight.

"What the hell?!" was all she could mutter out of shock and unwanted confusion. She stared at her reflection again, hoping to see her face for the next try, but to no avail. It was the same face the rippled water reflected, and she kept on muttering the same words.

"What in the world has happened?! Why do I have a different face?!”

Celestine−̶ or not−̶ trotted inches away from the water. Her sound breathing and short-lived serenity were now gone. Her chest was aching and she felt like hyper ventilating anytime. The air seemed to solidified, planning to choke her along its way down her lungs. And the cold breeze intensified her shivering. She did not quite understand why it had to be like that...or why it should not have to be the way she saw herself.

She was Elizabeth Celestine! There was no way in the world that can change that, yet her reflection told otherwise. Few moments earlier, she was so sure of herself, and now, a hint of doubt sprouted and threatened to swarm all over her chest like an inescapable plague. She mentally reprimanded herself to stay calm and collected. The sight was beyond calming but she had managed to stay focus.

Unintentionally, her fingers found its way up to her chest, where something must be located. There, at the spot, she rested her palm, desiring to feel something inside that should have been beating all this time. A heart. A healthy and unharmed heart.

The pain in her chest intensified as her panic rushed back, choking her, making it intolerable for her to breathe. The pain though was not from the supposed erratic thumping of an organ. She's sure of the pain was not coming from it. Because there was nothing beating. Maybe, her heart was not really there or it had just forgotten its purpose. Is she a walking corpse? Is she supposed to be alive or should she better be dead by now?

"My heart's not beating!" She unbelievably muttered. Such thought made her hysterical. Shaking her head a couple of times, hoping the mere act would convince her that she might be wrong. No one was perfect. Anyone could be wrong at times. But she could not fool herself at this. Her mind's afraid of what her chest was feeling, or not feeling, rather.

Then all of a sudden, a raspy, haunting, feminine voice popped out of her disoriented mind. Somehow, it managed to get her out of her sudden stupor. Claim or be claimed, that is the first battle, yet the most critical part. She replayed the sentence while savoring the blurry memory of what seemed an afterimage of the real speaker.

She thought she knew whom the voice belongs. Her memories of the speaker were like shards of broken glass. The image was not perfect but bit by bit, it rendered help for tiny recollections.

"What should I claim?"

Though it was obvious that it was the body  that the voice was pertaining, Celestine could not quite believe what was happening. If ever she decided to claim the body she did not own, then the next struggle was how? As seconds had gone by, her panic vaporized into thin air and turned into a sickening smoke of frustration. Her mind was reticent to offer her few more pieces of the puzzle. Maybe it won't really give her an authentic help because it was not her own mind to begin with. She had no control over it. 

"Why? Could this body think for itself? Doesn't it want to be claimed?"

Oh, yeah. She almost forgot—it was a matter of claim or be claimed. She raked her borrowed mind for any hint if there was a ritual or incantation she had to perform to fully own the body but to no avail.

Screw it! I think I need to figure this all out by myself. I won't just stress myself and end up without any progress.

She started to distance herself from the body of water. She's refreshed and her thirst was now quenched, there was no reason for her to stay there and merely wait for her real face sprout out of that borrowed body she was stuck in.

"You badly want to escape, princess? You can only travel between worlds when you’re a soul so, sacrifice your immortality now. Let me kill you," and wicked vines greedily hugged her slender frame to make any act of resistance impossible. She was shocked, and terrified afterwards. This was not the execution she wanted for her flight.

"Wait! I need some time to think!" But she was pinned down on the century-old table. Indeed, this was the  fastest and handiest escape. The word handiest did not comfort her, of course. There was no way getting yourself killed could be regarded as the handiest approach to flee from her captors. 'Fastest' matched it, though.

"In your case, death is not a choice. Fear is," said the lone sorcerer with her distinct, crooked simper.

Who would not succumb to grave terror knowing any minute they had to face their death? And for a moment, her mind explained why she was here. And all the horrible reasons why she was there lying helplessly were rotating around the morbid plans of the Majesties. It was all their fault that she went on the run asking for a quick escape from a sorcerer and ended up dealing with the sinuous vines all over her body. Rage flared her systems. If it was not for the Majesties' selfishness, she would not have to sacrifice her immortality. But then, her death could be worth it, besides, it was her powers they were after. If she died in this world and lost her immortality, which would be happening sooner than expected, then she could save herself from the burden of her conscience had she was captured and forced to take part of the next war. Thus, her first participation would not be for the greater good.

Celestine reconnected herself to the world she was currently in after her mind flashed those scenes upon her head. How could she ever forget the last thoughts she had before her life was taken away from her? The Majesties, the Kingdom, and the treason her blood was bound to commit. Unfortunately, her loathing towards the Majesties blazed against her chest like a scorching fire.

She was staggering above the thick bed of dried leaves and branches. She was back into the unending forest once more, trying not to forget the two types of creatures dwelling in the place. Predators and preys. Deluged with some of her memories, she silently prayed predators of any kind were not on the prowl at this hour or she would not stand a chance. And her weak mental state was not helping. As misfortunes did not come singly, the ground underneath her wobbly feet started shaking.

I wonder if the ground would split into half and they would spring out of the core and drag me back.

And there she saw a lady possessing a promising beauty, being chased by two men with faces hidden. Their wild eyes the only things left uncovered. The lady tried to take advantage of the dark and wittingly hid herself in a tree. Her heart's racing; she was tired and scared to death with how these men plotted her death. She covered her mouth to keep any sob from escaping that hint her predators of where she situated herself, using stealth.

I have to survive! I have to get out of here!

But then huge hands appeared around her arms to cut her luck short. This was it! They got her. But she would not just give them the satisfaction of killing her that easy, she made sure she would put up a fight. Her cries, yells, and curses tried to wake up the sleeping forest and everything within it. Eventually, she was half-dragged, half-lifted by the two devils towards the open grave they personally dug for the crime.

“LET ME GO! HELP!" All of her screams for extreme defiance and help were drowned by the heavy rain. Her unprofessional kicks in the groin of one of the men did not set her free since there was still the other man who was able to block her predicted assaults and got her. She was molested and killed. During her final moments before she loses her battle, a thought echoed in her mind: I need to get out of here! Please! Someone! Anyone! I’d give anything to escape!

At first, Celestine was not able to comprehend what happened. And then she realized, it was the last moments of the girl whose body she was presently borrowing. It was horrible. Although it was not played in her mind how the poor girl ended up lifeless, the thick blood stains were enough to explain that she had suffered gory violence.

She never pictured her own death, much more of others'. The victim's bloodcurdling screams were still ringing in her ears like she was reliving the nightmare, although the memories were not really hers to relive with.

Celestine never felt more disturbed and haunted than now. She was not warned for this. Having shards of memories of two dead creatures. One was hers, who once encountered death and lived again, and other one belonged to the real owner of the body; who died but never came back for Celestine's benefit.

But the internal battle was not over yet. She still had not fully claimed the empty vessel. And with whatever magic it got, the body could take Celestine as its new soul. The thing to which she would not let herself lose.