A few weeks have passed since the Witch's House disappeared from the forest. The villagers rejoiced that the monster was slain. Never again will they have to worry about their children coming too close to the forest's edge.
Never will they realize that they brought the monster in their home.
What neither they nor Ellen came to know was that the poor soul that perished continued to haunt her. While the physical vessel was destroyed by her dearest father, the soul was all that remained. The last contact she can make is within the world of dreams.
The dream begins the same way each time. Viola appears in her normal body. The sickness is apparent in her body still. Her eyes are gouged out just as Ellen left them; her legs remained intact that she could stand, yet appeared bloody. Every time, she screams at her dear friend.
It was all supposed to be one day. I trusted you. Give back my body. Give back my life. We can make this work. Everyone would love as you are. Just give it back. Give it back to me. How could you do that to those people? They didn't deserve that. Give them back. Give it back. Give it back. Give it back. Give it-
It was nothing but a futile attempt to produce guilt out of the witch. In the end, a soul can only do so much to tempt the living. The only result of these nightly visits was that sleeping simply became a nuisance to Ellen. While it was surprising that her soul imprinted on her, Ellen soon grew tired of it. How she wished she could shove down another bottle of medicine into her throat once again. Nothing would ever change this tragedy. The witch had won. Why should she ever change it now? Suddenly, those dreams came to an end. Ellen no longer saw Viola. Perhaps she finally moved on, thought the witch; One less bother to deal with. A beautiful empty morning is what she woke up to. It had been some time since she woke up not irate. It was life as normal, except for a light wetness on her face. How strange, did she already miss her dear friend that much? Perhaps all those dream sessions had an effect after all. However, something was amiss. A dull pain was coming from head; a pain she knew all too well. The witch brings a hand to her face to wipe away the tears. It was not water that came from her eyes. It was blood. She rushes to her dresser mirror. Her shocked reflection echoes back to her. Her eyes had the same symptoms that first appeared of her illness. Bleeding eyes, stiffened body, and the most unconceivable pain was how it progressed. Out of all the possible bodies she had to switch with, it just had to be this one she was stuck with! Viola couldn't have done this- she left. She should have passed on! A soul couldn't do this, she shouldn't have any power left-
We'll always be friends, right Ellen? If that's the case, then as friends, we should share things with one another! Don't worry; we won't just share our deepest secrets. There is one thing that is most important that best friends share: they shoulder each other's pain.