TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of past abuse, mentions of molestation, past threats of rape, panic attacks
Hello, lovely readers! How have you been?
This chapter is heavily emotional and it might trigger some people. It will not be explicit and will consist of memories of certain conversations, hallucinations and panic attacks. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you to skip anything because everything is connected this time, unlike on chapter 16, so, please, keep that in mind.
Unfortunately, I have bad news. This week will be the last time I publish before I enter hiatus. It'll probably take more than a month before I come back. However, I will be rewriting the chapters I haven't yet just like I have been doing until now, just in a slower pace. I hope to return to you guys with, at least, three newly corrected chapters.
Anyway, a big thank you to everyone for supporting this story! I'm glad you're enjoying Cataclysm!
Please do not forget: updates take place every Monday and Friday from 12pm to 5 pm PST!
See you,
—Cherry
The full moon shone in the sky. Splendid, ethereal, cold. This was how Medea saw it that night: an untouchable and severe deity, ready to judge her apprentices. She would only accept the very best of them as her the next Minor Priestess.
It was a lot of pressure.
Out of the seven who had been chosen for the third phase, only three had been successful in their missions, including herself. She had heard whispers about how the others had disappeared, been seriously injured, or even died during the mission.
A chill ran through her body.
That was almost her fate as well.
She could have been dead right now. The Zoldycks would have killed her, had it not been for Killua and Alluka.
She took her fingers to the tattoo on her wrist, tracing the lines to calm down. Everything is alright, you're okay, you're safe. It's just the last phase. You can do this, Medea. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes. A small smile appeared on her lips when she remembered a pair of shiny gray eyes.
Kurapika…
Three weeks had passed since their arrival in the Republic of Mimbo. Three weeks since they had parted ways. Time passed so slowly without him by her side. At times, she had the feeling her life was an endless cycle of boredom. All she did was wait for the moment that Kurapika would be available to talk so she could finally hear his voice again.
She had grown quite fond of him over the past few months and, although it was something that made her nervous, it was somewhat fun to live such a common, mundane situation. It was a relief to see that she, too, could experience what most people did. That she could be, to some extent, normal.
It was comforting.
However, now that she was in Ileack, nothing mattered besides her goal. Medea would do everything in her power to become the newest Minor Priestess.
Her white satin robe was a cloud of smoke against her skin as she shifted her weight to her other leg and the wind blew against her. Medea fidgeted and cracked her knuckles. The wait made her feel sick, or maybe it was the ritualistic drink they had given her.
A few members of the clergy were adding the final details to the ornamentation around the garden, where tall, shrubby trees separated the Great Temple from the dark forest surrounding it. This garden was always so eerie. Medea never liked it, there was always a heavy feeling in her chest whenever she stepped foot on it. It was odd. Maybe it was due to the proximity to the forest and the memories that came with it.
Butterflies flew in her stomach as realization dawned upon her.
The last phase.
She could not believe she was actually part of it, it felt like a dream.
Dreams become nightmares in no time, whispered a voice in her mind. Medea frowned. It did not sound anything like the thoughts she normally had, it was aggressive. Imposing. Give up while there's still time. Leave.
Medea just closed her eyes and shook her head. No. She would not allow her insecurities to take the best of her. This ceremony was extremely important and she was honored to even be among the candidates for the title; nothing would trouble her right now.
Becoming an influential member of the clergy was not the reason she had joined the Order, and, honestly, she would have never expected something like that. Still, she would not give up. It would be an affront to the Goddess.
Why, then, did those negative words surround her mind every moment she thought about the Order? Was it out of self-consciousness? Out of her fear of not being good enough?
She took a deep breath.
Her eyes roamed around and she stared at the lake in the middle of the garden, the water reminded her of tar. How did they even use it during the rituals? She had no idea. No one was allowed to talk about the New Caste Ceremonies, it was forbidden by the priestess, and therefore everyone was uncertain about what would happen.
The woman observed the water absorb the silvery beams of light that attempted to illuminate it. Pitch-black. Pure darkness. It was almost like staring into those profound, life-sucking holes that were Illumi Zoldyck's eyes. Almost. She did not feel as threatened by the lake as she did by Illumi.
Why did he even despise her that much? Had she offended him in a way she was not aware of? Because all the times she did it, she was quite conscious of her actions.
Medea rolled her eyes.
Whatever. Illumi was not normal, Killua had said so himself, and she absolutely believed him.
She closed her eyes.
Focus. Focus on waiting for the High Priestess.
A mantra sounded in her mind, due to the long years of serving the faith.
You are nothing.
The Great Changeable is everything.
Precisely for this, she would give her body and soul to the Golden Lady that night. Medea owed her everything. She would be lost without her goddess.
No, you wouldn't. You have only known this goddess for less than a decade. You survived this far because of your own merit. The voice stated.
Medea shook her head. Lies. I'm just nervous. This is not true.
Are you sure? The voice inquired, amused. Why do you have to follow what the High Priestess taught you? It was you who found the Order, not the other way around. It reminded her.
No, the Ever-Living Golden Goddess found me. She chose me. She assured herself. I would've never had the ability to find the way to the Sacred Golden Light if the High Priestess hadn't been appointed to do so by the Great Lady herself. Medea pinched the bridge of her nose, hands shaking slightly. To even think about such a thing was horrible.
It was treacherous.
It was blasphemy!
How could her mind be feeding her with such thoughts? It was disgusting what human nature could do when confronted by the Light of Freedom.
The wooden doors opened with a bang and everyone bowed before the woman who was heading into the garden. Her long, golden veil wavered behind her as she moved, like pure light. She sat on the elegant, impressive oak throne, in the middle of the garden, fingers tapping the gold-adorned armrest with disinterest.
"Magnificent Priestess, guide us through the labyrinths of Destiny!" They greeted her with formality.
"May the Great Changeable, the Lady of Heavens, be praised among us!" Announced the woman, raising her arms to the skies. "May her Eternal Light fall upon us during this night, the peak of the Full Moon. May her face be turned to us tonight!"
"And forever!" Replied the clergy members.
"Seven apprentices were bestowed with the Spark of Heavens, but only three survived the trials." She stared at the selected women, ice-blue eyes studying them with intensity. "For the last stage, there will be only one challenge." The woman whispered something and the clouds began to cover the bright moon.
Everything turned pitch-black.
Medea narrowed her eyes. As much as she tried to, she could not see anything, not even her own hands. It was like being blindfolded. She took her fingers to her face, expecting the fabric, but there was only the soft texture of her own skin under her trembling hands. The cold wrapped her like a blanket. There was nothing to give off the slightest light.
It was dark.
It was too dark.
Her breathing became heavier.
Was that the last trial?
No. This could not be. She wanted to see. She needed to see.
The floor swayed under her feet, she couldn't find a point of stability to support herself. Her hands were sweating.
It was as cold and dark as it had been in Proyca.
It was all that again.
Her body shook and she grabbed her hair, the air suddenly too hot and sharp in her lungs. Not the dark. Not the dark again. No, no, no…
It could not be.
It could not.
She had gotten rid of the nightmares regarding Araeso's darkroom years ago. Hell, she did not even need to have the lampshade lit while she slept anymore! Why was she feeling like she was still trapped in that place? She was out. She was not in Lys. This was Ileack, she knew that. But a small part of her mind did not.
Please, don't lock me in here! Please, please, I'll behave!
Her mouth went dry.
She needed to get out of there. Urgently. She was not stable enough to deal with this phase, and certainly not to endure this nightmare again, not after all the progress she had made.
Leave.
Leave.
I have to leave!
As she turned around and attempted to run, her feet stumbled on something soft and she fell. She grunted. Her knees were burning and wet. Blood. There was blood. Of course, there was blood.
Ignoring the pain in her scraped knees, Medea rose from the floor, legs wobbly. Out, out, out, I have to get out right now!
But would it even be any good?
The Moon was cunning and tricky. Maybe this was one of her games to make her lose the opportunity to rise between castes.
Was it worth trying to stay there, in the dark, both literally and metaphorically, just to try to become a Minor Priestess?
I warned you to leave, did I not? Provoked the voice, clearly entertained. Look at you, so miserable, unable to make up your mind on what you should do… How pathetic.
"Shut up."
Why did you not die at the Zoldyck mansion at once? It would have been better for everyone.
"I said shut the fuck up!" She hissed with a trembling voice.
As she walked through the cold grass, muscles too tense to run, something tugged her hair. She gasped. Her scalp burned. Her head was pulled harshly as something tried to drag her around, but she stuck her bare feet in the soft ground. She gritted her teeth. She had to stay still.
Another pair of hands pulled on the knot that kept her robe closed and tore it off of her with easiness, exposing her naked body to the frosty air.
No.
No.
Not this.
Her chin trembled. She wanted to cry, but there were no tears, all she did was shake.
Let me see how much you've grown since the last time.
Be a good girl or I will let them play with you.
Medea shut her eyes tightly and turned her body around, the pain on her scalp increasing. With a fast and precise movement, she kicked the person behind her. The one who had undone the knot on her robe tried to grab her, but she elbowed them in the nose. There was a loud groan, but she paid it no mind.
Instead, she started to run aimlessly. Her only goal was to escape.
Oh, Heavens, it was Lys all over again!
Her lungs seemed to have no ability to cope with the thoughts that clouded her head and she gradually began to feel the air missing in her chest. She could barely inhale. The air was too little. Her breath was scarce. She tried to breathe in through her mouth, but not even that helped.
On her chest, there was nothing but a horrid burning sensation. It was heavy and overpowering, and it slowly settled deep in her guts, spreading through her very bones. Her jaw was trembling. If it was the soil or herself spinning, she did not know.
Was she having a panic attack right when she was trying to escape?
Truly ridiculous.
Her long nails pierced her arms. Maybe the voice was right, maybe dying in Dentora would not have been necessarily bad. It would have been better than reliving the worst part of her life, at least.
The ground beneath her disappeared completely and she barely had time to realize what was happening before she was embraced by freezing waters.
She opened her mouth to breathe, but ended up swallowing water instead, and choked. Her eyes widened. Air, she needed air.
Was this a sort of divine punishment for surviving that drug?
No. It was not that. It was the Goddess punishing her for what she had done in Proyca, toying with what she feared so much. And she did it well. Perfectly well.
Medea tried to swim to the surface but was only able to cough up the water momentarily and hold her breath for a few seconds before her body was engulfed by the lake again.
Open your mouth wide, Medea. She heard Araeso's disgusting voice instruct her.
I don't want to! She heard her younger self reply, in a mix of fear and fury.
Don't be a bad girl. He growled. Let me put the toy inside or I'll have to take you to your cell, but you don't want that, do you? Answer me, Medea!
She wanted to throw up. Great Changeable, how she wanted to throw up.
Remembering that man filled her with hatred. Yet, all she could feel at the moment was nausea.
Disgusting.
He was disgusting. She was disgusting.
Cold water pierced her skin like thousands of needles, and the dark only made everything worse. Endless darkness enveloped her body, her mind, her soul. Her thoughts and memories were her only company. Her body trembled when she attempted to swim again, but she was so nervous that no coherence existed between her thoughts and actions. She could not control her movements.
A momentary warmth spread around her legs when the dread became too intense.
Did you pee yourself? The vicious voice in her mind asked, snickering. My, oh my! Such a brave Sea Hunter indeed!
Humiliated, that was how she felt. Not even in her own head did she have a little bit of safety. She had no idea she hated herself that much.
All she could think about was how she should be swimming. How she should be breathing. How she wanted to leave.
It was horrible to remember everything that had happened. She hated her past. The only thing she wanted was to get away from that damn lake and from herself. If she couldn't get to the surface while she still had time, she would drown and die.
How ironic for a Sea Hunter.
She could hear the voices in her memories.
You were born to be a cum dumpster, and only that, laughed Araeso, you're not important. You're a toy. I raised you to be one. You will never be anything different.
So weak. You can't even compare to me. That's why Lasym put me in your place, you dumb whore! Evie Gargani reminded her.
Dumb whore! Araeso repeated.
Dumb slut! Evie chuckled. The whole Association knows I'm way more qualified than you!
Their laughter filled her ears, but then, a quiet voice called her name and everything stopped.
It's not your fault, is it, my love? Enoull asked. It's not your fault if you're foolish and unprepared enough to the point that you can't perform a task that you work with. You know that's why I traded you for my freedom, don't you, sweetie?
Please, stop, Enoull! She begged.
I chose him. It was always him. You were always nothing to me, but him? Enoull sighed. I would die a thousand deaths for him.
She wanted to cry. Anyone but Enoull. Her words were always the cruelest ones.
Why wouldn't her ghost leave Medea alone after so many years? Wasn't she tired of playing with her feelings even after death? If Medea died too, would she feel avenged and stop tormenting her finally?
Oh, please! The voice in her mind huffed. Stop being dramatic! Will you give up because of memories?
Medea stopped resisting the waters, focusing on her own inner voice. It seemed so familiar, but at the same time so different. How was this happening?
Are you going to tell me that you ran away from Lys, not once, but twice, only to be whimpering in the middle of a lake because you remembered Araeso's punishments? Are you not ashamed of yourself? It asked impatiently. The Zoldyck family would not hesitate to kill you now, you know? You are acting like a coward. The voice growled. Illumi would laugh at you! Look at yourself!
So what if I'm like this? It is only natural thanks to all the years suffering in Proyca, she thought, outraged.
Do you not want to prove him wrong? It taunted. I thought you wanted to shut him and many others up… I suppose I was wrong.
Medea frowned.
For an inner voice, hers was starting to get on her nerves. But in a way, it was right.
There were a lot of people who she wanted to see mortified because of her success. She wanted them licking her shoes. That was what they deserved.
Panicking or not, she was gonna swim up and breathe again. Who did Araeso think he was to disturb her again after she had killed him?
Gathering what was left of her strength, she controlled her movements. She could do this. Swimming was part of her. And so she did. The air in her lungs was running out. She needed to get to the surface as soon as possible.
Medea would be damned if she allowed herself to drown to death.
The water's resistance became less and less evident. It was infinitely smaller than before and she knew she was almost there. At any moment she would be able to breathe again.
When her hand crossed the water surface, touching the cold air before grasping something soft and solid, her body followed it. Using what was left of her energy, Medea pulled herself out of the lake. Taking deep breaths, she coughed and threw up on the grassy shore.
Crawling on the slippery soil, Medea sat with her head between her hands, body shaking due to the cold. Her knees were still sore, but it did not matter. Her mind was way more injured than that.
All of a sudden, hands pushed her to the side and she fell with her face on the ground. She groaned, but tried to squirm away. There was no way she would allow anyone to touch her.
"Calm down." Someone said.
"Let go of me! Let go of me!" She repeated, fighting back.
"Calm down, Medea!" Commanded a powerful voice.
Medea felt her body stiffen.
The High Priestess.
She could not see her, but that meant the woman was aware of what was going on. Her leader was still in control. Everything would be fine… Or so she hoped. "Y-yes, ma'am."
There was music echoing through the garden, light and airy, like a child's laughter. Medea frowned, confused. Were they already electing the new priestess? She had spent a lot of time in the lake. Had she lost her chance to win? Had it all been for nothing?
Her chest felt heavy.
"Spread your legs." The woman said.
Medea involuntarily widened her eyes.
"What?"
"Spread your legs and lift your ass up. Now." She ordered.
Albeit reluctantly, Medea did as she was told.
Two cold fingers touched her lower lips and she sighed, surprised. What was going on? Why was she doing that? The fingers spread her inner lips slightly, exposing her even more to the air, and stayed like that for a while, until, much to her surprise, they entered the tiny opening.
Medea held her breath when they moved around, touching something inside her a couple of times. She could almost feel the weight of the High Priestess' icy gaze on her figure, analyzing her as she gave the final verdict.
She bit her lower lip, determined to be approved, even if it cost her to put up with that in silence and suppress her own emotions.
Around them, noises of drums and lyres grew in intensity, indicating that the ceremony was approaching its climax.
The High Priestess retrieved her hand, distancing herself from the younger woman.
A man approached her, his stiff thighs touching the back of her own, and time stopped.
What was happening?
Did they want her to sacrifice her virginity to the Moon?
She gripped the grass hard. That was not how she envisioned her first time to be like.
She had always imagined something intimate, secluded, and in a quiet place. Her lover would take her like he wanted to, but making sure not to hurt her. He would be patient. Attentive. He would touch her with no haste. She would trust him.
It was not supposed to be like this.
To her surprise, however, something thin and pointed was shoved between her shoulder blades, ripping the skin apart. Medea grunted in pain.
The blade made spirals, angular lines, and other forms on her skin, deepening at certain points and barely touching others. The noise of the instruments and songs increased as time went by, and the marks expanded across her entire back, with more and more drops of blood leaking from the openings.
Suddenly, silence.
All the music and voices ceased, leaving Medea clueless about what would come next. A cold feeling spread through the wounds and she felt her skin tingling as drops of thick liquid fell on top of it.
Trembling, she barely realized that someone was helping her to stand up again, only taking notice of it when the shadows dissipated from her eyes.
She sighed in relief. It was over.
The members of the clergy remained static, dividing their attention between her and the priestess.
Violet eyes stared at her leader. The woman's countenance was contemplative, and her blue eyes were as hard as iron. A living statue.
"Sister Medea was the first to save herself from the deceiving darkness, the illusion created to test the apprentices' limitations, and, apparently, she has her mental aspect intact." The High Priestess announced. "She is also a maiden, which qualifies her for a caste promotion. Therefore, I conclude here the Act of Choice. Please welcome your newest Minor Priestess."
It was only when the woman threw a silver veil into the air that time seemed to run again.
Medea felt warm tears dripping down her face as she trembled.
The other clergy members howled with joy around them, singing and dancing. Some of them approached the gigantic banquet prepared for that occasion, on the furthest part of the garden as they celebrated. However, the only thing she did was take a deep breath.
She had succeeded.
She was a Minor Priestess.
Thank you, Sabina. Thank you so much, my friend!
Someone covered her body with a light gray cape and undid her braid, which fell like a cascade of pearls atop her sore shoulders — the symbolic freedom given to the ones chosen by The Great Changeable. She didn't process the congratulations of those who were watching her and had been part of the process. Her shock due to the pain that radiated through her flesh was immense, but it could not compare to the pride in her chest.
Immersed in her thoughts, she allowed two priestesses to guide her to a spacious chamber, the one that was mostly used after ceremonies.
It was warm, and shiny, and smelled like roses and lilies.
Like a funeral parlor, chuckled the voice in her head.
They helped her to enter the large pool covered in bubbles and different types of flower petals, and her skin bristled due to the temperature change. Their skilled hands slowly cleaned the dirt off of her, even from her hair, and tended to the fresh wound on her back with utmost care. Medea sighed. She felt like a princess. Was this the treatment the High Priestess received every day? It was divine.
She could get used to this luxury.
Steps echoed through the room and Medea opened her eyes, face turning to the path ahead, and her gaze met the figure whom she so vehemently respected and feared. Being face to face with that woman was quite the experience. Medea always felt a knot forming in her throat when this happened; her sudden presence never meant anything good.
The priestess looked at her from head to toe.
"Congratulations on the achievement, white lily. You must be euphoric to finally become a Minor Priestess." She commented. "You truly are a treasure for us."
She lowered her gaze to the orchid petals that floated amid the soap bubbles, uncertain whether she should cover her body or not. It felt weird to be like that in front of her leader. As the woman didn't sketch any reaction to her nakedness, and considering that her fingers had been inside her just a few moments ago, Medea decided to ignore the matter. Being embarrassed now was silly.
"Thank you, Mistress. I am very happy to have ascended to this position." She said quietly.
The blonde sat by the pool and stared at her as she ran her fingers through the scented water.
"And you only did it thanks to me, I must remind you. Without my tutelage, you wouldn't have even learned to control this sordid thing the infidels call Nen." The woman told her, voice dripping with contempt. "Had we not met on that deplorable night, you'd spend the rest of your life being feared, you know that."
Medea nodded and winced in pain as water dripped through her sore back. One of the women whispered an apology and she made a gesture with her hand to show she was not upset.
"I will always be grateful for it, my lady. The path you introduced me to is the reason I'm alive now." Replied the Hunter.
"Indeed it is, but we shouldn't live in the past. We must keep focusing on the future as our Goddess taught us, and that is why I came here in the first place, not just to congratulate you." She gestured to the priestesses who were helping Medea and then at the door. "Leave us alone."
When they closed the door, not even sparing a glance back at the young woman, she sighed and smiled. "Tell me, what brings you here?"
She combed the younger priestess' light hair with her fingers, placing it over one of her shoulders so that she could have a full view of what marked her back. Carefully, she touched a few spots near her nape and poured water on the area, removing the final remnants of the blue liquid on the reddish skin.
"Malphor did a nice job on this tattoo. It's exquisite. I'm sure you'll find it impressive, even if you are not a fan of this kind of art."
"It's alright, I already have one because of the Order anyway." Medea replied. "And besides, I thought I was going to be deflowered, so between these two options, I definitely prefer the tattoo."
The woman chuckled. "I bet you do…" She wrapped a platinum Strand on her finger. "I have a new job for you, white lily. It will be many moons from now, but I preferred to warn you in advance."
Medea felt her muscles become rigid and tried to turn around.
"But, ma'am, you told me I wouldn't need to act as the Night Lady anymore! You said I would be free to focus on my career and—"
Medea howled in pain as she felt the blonde's nails piercing her forearm's skin and the other yanking her head back. Her scalp burned with the sharp movement. Gluing her own torso to the young woman's back, the golden-haired priestess used her improvised rein to tug at the white hair even more violently, tearing off some strands in the process.
"I'm your leader, aren't I?"
"Y-Yes."
"Then shut up and obey the commands given to you." She remained motionless, only facing the large cedar wood doors of the chamber. "The next time you try to question something I've already defined, you will be sorry. Are we clear?"
Medea nodded with difficulty, the limited movement causing the blood from the new wounds on her forearm to roll and dye the water pink.
"Excellent. You were born to serve," Her lips got closer to Medea's ear and she whispered: "You are nothing."
The High Priestess pushed her body forward as sharply as she pulled it, then rose up and headed towards the entrance.
Before leaving, she stared at her naked and wounded pupil in the pool of warm waters, and her face darkened. "The information on deadlines and addresses will be sent to your new phone number. You are only allowed to return to the temple when you complete your mission." And she closed the door.
Medea looked at the reflection on the water.
With the High Priestess, nothing was the way she expected. She could understand why the Moon had chosen her as her mouthpiece among mortals — they were identical.
She rubbed the newly open cut on her arm, hissing a bit as she tried to soothe the pain. It was always like this. She always got hurt, whether it was physically or not. She did not know why she was still surprised by the outcomes of their meetings.
Nevertheless, she endured it. Anything for her faith. Anything to repay the favor of being saved by the Order of the Golden Moon.
Grunting, she got up from the pool and dried herself with the cotton towel the women had left there before they exited the room. She hissed in pain when the soft fabric touched her recent injuries, especially the new tattoo on her back.
She didn't like tattoos. Hated them, actually. They made her feel marked like cattle, but she did not have much choice when dealing with the Order. She only followed what was expected of her.
She will never let you be entirely free, said the voice in her head, somberly, you will always be the little songbird trapped in her golden cage. You are a pawn in her hands. You are more capable than you believe yourself to be, do not listen to her lies.
Medea shook her head. The High Priestess was only doing what was best for the Order. Her personal happiness meant nothing as long as she could fulfill her role in the community. She officially lived for the Moon now, and she would sacrifice whatever she needed to achieve what was expected of her.
She was nothing. The Great changeable was everything.
Brushing her hair, Medea sighed. Tomorrow, she would leave the temple to meet with Alluka and Killua at the hotel. She had to pay for their stay before finally returning home. She still could not believe they had convinced her to bring them to Ileack, but she suspected it had something to do with Alluka's pout and shimmery eyes — that manipulative little doll knew exactly how to win her over. A smile sprouted on her lips.
Those two could get on her nerves and make her embarrassed to the point of being unable to speak, but she cared for them. It was like having a tiny family of her own. It made her reminisce about her and Kite, sometimes.
She laid on the bed and picked up her phone, going through the group chat's messages and laughing at the silly argument Killua and Leorio had, and also the photos Gon sent occasionally.
Clicking on her private chat with Kurapika, she could not help but smile at the photo he sent of himself a couple of hours before. His nose had a rosy shade, as did his cheeks, and he was wearing a really thick coat to ameliorate the cold. A few snowflakes were on his scarf and on his golden hair, giving him an angelic aspect.
Leaving Idaikaello
But it's snowing
So I had to check on my pretty snowflake first
She felt so silly for blushing, but he did not need to know that, so she simply replied:
Let me know once you arrive at Rhosthic
And dress properly
I don't want to get a cold after kissing you (-_-)
Suddenly, a message appeared in her notification bar. It was from that same unknown number she had chatted with before.
Hello
An item will be waiting for you in your mailbox
She arched an eyebrow. Weird. Maybe they had messaged the wrong person. Quickly, she replied:
Hey
This is Medea Lanfort, remember? I think you texted the wrong person :/
Sorry
But have a good night :)
She covered herself with the warm fluffy blanket, curled up like a baby, and was ready to fall asleep when the mobile vibrated again. She picked up the device and was ready to silence the group chat for a few hours when she read the message and widened her eyes. "What in the actual fuck?"
No, I meant to text you
I hope the item is to your liking
See you soon, Medea
DON'T FORGET: NEXT THURSDAY, AT 12PM PST THERE WILL BE AN EXTRA CHAPTER!
—
Medea keeps receiving text messages from an unknown number and it's starting to worry her. Who is this person? And what will Medea do to put an end to this situation once and for all?
To find out the answer to these and other questions, stay tuned for the next chapters~