Chapter 9
1529words
I am trapped in this cursed place forever, with her.
Huddled in the confessional as the angry shouts outside gradually faded, my panic slowly subsided. Anna sat close beside me, her warm body against mine—a contact both comforting and terrifying.
"Are they gone?" I whispered.
"For now," Anna whispered in the darkness. "But they'll return. Michael, it's time you learned the truth."
"What truth?" Anna took a deep breath and began a story that chilled me to my core.
"That college student you saw as a child was named Emily," Anna's voice echoed softly in the small space. "When the time came for the hand-cutting ritual, a village family was supposed to offer someone's arm. But no one wanted to sacrifice their own family member."
My blood ran cold.
"So they chose the outsider—that college girl. She'd been kidnapped by traffickers, and the villagers told themselves they were 'rescuing' her, giving her shelter and community. But in reality..." Anna paused. "In reality, they planned to use her from the beginning."
"Use her?"
"When the ritual time came, no villager could bear to see their own children, parents, or siblings mutilated," Anna continued, her voice cold with rage. "So naturally, the burden fell to the outsider. And as it happened, she was pregnant."
My stomach twisted violently.
"Pregnant?"
"Seven months pregnant," Anna's hand brushed my arm, sending shivers through me. "The villagers believed that sacrificing a pregnant woman would provide a double offering—mother and child—ensuring the village's protection for twice as long."
"Oh God..." I covered my mouth, fighting the urge to vomit.
"She fought desperately, begging for mercy, but they showed none. They bound her before the angel statue and hacked off her hands with an axe," Anna's voice grew eerily detached. "Blood drenched the altar. Both she and her unborn child died."
I sat speechless, horrific images flooding my mind.
"But something strange happened," Anna continued. "Though the villagers buried her behind the church, the next morning her body appeared in the eastern woods, surrounded by stone hands that had emerged from the earth."
It was the corpse I'd seen as a child! "How... how did she move there?" I asked, trembling.
"Because she made a deal with the multi-armed angel," Anna's voice carried a hint of dark triumph. "She wanted revenge on the entire village—to make everyone pay."
A realization struck me. "Wait, Anna—how do you know all these details so clearly?"
In the darkness, I sensed rather than saw Anna smile. Her soft, sweet laugh now sounded utterly terrifying.
"Because I am her, Michael. I am the college girl whose hands were cut off, and I am also the baby girl born from her womb." The world seemed to spin around me.
"WHAT?!"
"My real name is Anna Marie Wilson, from Boston, studying education," her voice remained gentle and sweet, though her words made my soul quake. "I was only eighteen when they brought me here—my whole future ahead of me—until these monsters destroyed everything."
I tried to run, but my body wouldn't respond—as if some invisible force held me in place.
"Then now... you're..."
"What does it matter who I am?" Anna whispered in my ear.
"Then why are you after me? I never hurt you!" Fear made my voice break.
"Because it's your turn to lose a hand," Anna's tone turned icy. "By village law, each family must take turns offering an arm. Your family fled, but the debt remains. Now that you've returned, it's time to pay what your family owes."
I remembered the sorrow in my parents' eyes when they sent me back, the guilt and despair they couldn't hide. They'd known all along what awaited me.
"Then why only now?" I forced myself to remain calm. "If this curse is real, how could I live safely away for so many years?"
"Because I bore it for you," Anna's hand caressed my cheek. "I volunteered."
"What do you mean?"
"I made a deal with the angel," Anna's voice carried a disturbing pleasure. "I offered to have my hands cut off in your place. Each time my hand is severed, it regrows, and someone in the village dies. I'll continue until every arm on that statue is mine."
My blood turned to ice in my veins.
"The villagers..."
"They're ghosts, Michael," Anna laughed softly. "Already dead but unaware. They hate you, blame you, believing your sacrifice will restore their lives. But they're all doomed to die."
"You killed them?"
"The angel killed them," Anna corrected. "Each time my arm regrows, the angel takes a life. Jack, the mayor, everyone... they've all died for my vengeance, but their souls remain trapped here."
I finally understood the village's eerie silence, the absence of people, Jack's strange behavior. They weren't alive at all!
"Then why target me? Why sacrifice your hands for mine?"
Anna was silent briefly, then whispered, "Because your parents tried to save me once."
"What?"
"I was bound to this place. Your parents helped me escape, but I was recaptured. They locked me in a basement until the sacrifice. I was pregnant with myself, and I was born from my own corpse. Sometimes I'm not even sure who I truly am."
The story grew increasingly bizarre, my mind struggling to comprehend its twisted logic.
"So I decided to repay my debt uniquely," Anna continued. "I endured the pain of sacrifice in your place, but in exchange, you must stay here forever as my companion."
"Your parents were villagers too. Though they tried to save me, I despise them," Anna's voice hardened. "So I'll use you to settle accounts. Not with your life—but with your freedom."
I trembled. "Then... you want to kill me?"
Anna stroked my face tenderly, her voice softening. "No, my dear. I don't want your life. I want your body, your soul, and your eternal companionship."
Now I understood everything—this beautiful ghost had crafted a perfect trap, using my attraction to lure me step by step into this cursed abyss. And I would never escape.
"I can't escape either," Anna whispered, her voice hypnotic as a spell.
"From the moment you first dreamed of me, you were already mine."
Fear and despair crashed over me like a tidal wave.
I wanted to scream, to run, to beg for help, but everything blurred. Anna's voice faded, darkness closed in, and I felt myself falling into an endless void...
Then consciousness slipped away.
When I opened my eyes, I was back in that dreamlike church.
I wore a black tuxedo, standing before the altar. Around me stood "guests" in formal attire—Jack at the organ playing the wedding march, Mayor Thomas holding a Bible, villagers smiling and applauding.
But now I knew they were ghosts. Their faces twisted grotesquely in the candlelight, their eyes hollow and dead, yet they celebrated this macabre wedding with enthusiasm.
Anna approached in her exquisite wedding gown, still breathtakingly beautiful, though I now knew the horror behind that beauty.
"Now, let the bride and groom exchange their vows," Mayor Thomas declared solemnly.
Anna gazed into my eyes with that heavenly voice: "Michael, I vow to love you forever, to protect you, and never to part from you in life or death. In our world, time will lose meaning, death will have no power, and only our love will exist eternally."
It was my turn, but I couldn't refuse. As if in a trance, I lost all control of my body. My mouth opened automatically, speaking those damned words: "Anna, I vow to love you forever, to accompany you, and never leave you regardless of time or place. I offer my body and soul to spend eternity here with you."
"You may now kiss," announced Mayor Thomas.
Anna rose on tiptoes and pressed her lips to mine. The sensation was simultaneously ice-cold and burning hot, terrifying yet intoxicating. As our lips met, I felt my soul permanently bound to this place.
Wild applause erupted around us as the organ played triumphantly. But I knew this wasn't a celebration—it was my funeral.
This time, no one would wake me from the nightmare.
In an endless cycle, I became part of the multi-armed angel's curse, forever trapped with Anna in this village until the end of time.
Each day repeats the same pattern—walking with her, talking, participating in village activities. On the surface, it seems idyllic, but I can never leave, never return to the real world. And the dead villagers will continue their endless charade until new victims arrive.
If anyone ever reads this account, heed my warning—never seek out St. Mary's Village, and never trust encounters that seem too perfect. Some beauty exists only to trap souls. Some love is an eternal curse.
As for me, I'm condemned to spend eternity in this beautiful hell with my ghostly bride. (This is my story. I know it sounds insane, but every word is true. If you never hear from me again, you'll know why...)
