BLOODY LOVE'S
Episode 124

The woman in front of him was definitely not Mary. Jose just realized. Maria was wearing a pastel dress with a bustle on her hips and her honey-brown hair was tied in a braid of French style; while the woman in front of her was still standing silently staring at her, wear an old style dress that expands and imprints here and there, with a low neck that shows off the cleavage. Her curly hair was unraveling covering her open white shoulders.

Jose's still stuck. His finger was still pressing on the medallion which was feeling hot. He remembered the photo in the medallion. He remembered the initials engraved there. Jose felt a wave of horror as well as relief melanda. It was like meeting an old friend who had been separated for a long time. "A-Arabella?"

The woman in front of him opened the fan in hand and hid the smile behind it, but those blue eyes still stared fixedly at Jose.

"We're not that familiar until you can call my name" her voice was so sweet as the clanking of bells. "I don't know you."

Jose apologized sincerely, but did not introduce himself. There was a voice in his head that screamed forbidding him to mention names. A name is a self-identity, a kind of first gate of the individual. If he told his name to someone who should not be in this world, what would happen? Jose closed his eyes for a long time, counting to five, then opened his eyes in the hope that the beautiful woman in front of him would disappear. He hoped that the woman was an illusion.

But when he opened his eyes, Jose still saw Arabella. The girl looked at him with an interested face. "What the hell were you doing just now? Dizziness?"

Jose doesn't know what to say. The figure in front of him looked so natural, completely human-like. Jose doesn't know if he's in an illusion or Arabella just like Sir William can't age.

"I have to go back" Jose said in a soft whisper. But his feet did not move. He did not want to part with the girl. It was a strange feeling and confused him. But Jose clutched his own hand with all his might until his knuckles turned white and his nails stuck in the palm of his hand. It hurt, but it kept him conscious. This feeling of not wanting to part, this great longing, was probably not his feeling but the feeling of the necklace he was now wearing.

"Where to go back?" Arabella lowered her fan, already half-turned towards the branch of the corridor. "To party?"

Jose nodded stiffly.

The girl in front of him laughed again in a voice that resembled the clanking of bells. His white arm stretched out toward the master's room. "The party's here, right? Look, everyone's waiting!"

Waiting who? Jose wanted to ask that, but his tongue was a bit off.

Arabella turned her back, but the woman turned back to Jose and moved her head in an inviting gesture.

Faintly heard the sound of songs and light laughter, as if the party was right beside them and only blocked the wall.

Without actually realizing what was happening, Jose stepped following the woman towards the direction of the master room.

***

They had found some floors that could go down if stepped on with all their body weight. Marco estimates that there must be a certain mechanism in this castle that can measure a person's weight. Duke Ashington is eccentric, but he's not a prankster. Everything has its purpose.

Marco looked. He was so absorbed in thinking that he forgot that he was not alone in that place. "Just look at how the floor is from above" he said. "I can still remember which floors came down earlier. Maybe when I look up, I can get something."

"Don't!" Nolan came closer. His feet stepped on the tip of his coat and he stumbled down with a very loud noise.

Marco shook his head in surprise, but did not help immediately. He lifted his oil lamp high, observed the places where the floor could go down, and spent a minute thinking about what it meant before finally getting some guesses. He'll try it soon and find out what's right.

Nolan was still lying on his stomach on the floor, enduring the embarrassment. Marco had no other choice, so he went down to the girl and patiently helped her get up.

Nolan's eyes were wet and his nose was red. The girl rubbed her face with the back of her hand, but her tears just rolled more and more. "Your word just now, you're not leaving" he said, still in a raucous voice. "Don't go upstairs."

"I'm just going up the stairs, not leaving you" said Marco coldly, still unhappy with the way Nolan spoke to him. "No need to be too dramatic."

Nolan shook his head, irritated himself for not being able to control his tears. He did not like to look crybaby, but his entire body shivered in fear at this moment. The fear that spread from the tip of the hair to the tip of the foot, made him unable to get up again after tripping down earlier. He wondered why Marco remained relaxed. Didn't that man feel it? This horror.

"I smell it" Nolan finally managed to whisper trembling. His hand gripped Marco's shirt sleeve, determined not to let the man go again without him. His blue eyes stared straight at Marco's black eye bead. "It smells the same as the ghost ..."

Marco's feathers are hearing it. He did not smell anything, but in this situation it was impossible for him to ignore the slightest hint. He looked around the room. This place is circular and completely empty. There was only a marble floor and coiled stone walls surrounding them. There were no furniture or objects they could use as weapons or hiding places.

"Where does it smell?"

Nolan forced himself to speak. "From above" he said with teeth shaking until his voice was not too clear. His sleeves wrapped in coats lifted up, pointing towards the secret door where they had come. "Dafi .. I mean from that direction ..."

Marco nodded slowly, understanding why the girl was so panicked to see him climb the stairs. He grabbed Nolan by the shoulder, then dragged the girl to an empty spot under the stone stairs. It's the only place they can take shelter. Marco shrank the flame until the light dimmed, then took off the waistcoat he was wearing and used it to wrap around the lamp, covering the flame until around them there was only darkness.

For some time, they just crouched quietly under the stairs and listened. Marco took out his folding knife carefully. He won't use his revolver here. Too dangerous. If he was alone, everything would be easier. But he did not want to risk shooting Nolan whose movements sometimes he could not predict.

Nolan was beside him, sitting hugging his knees and pressing his lips to it so that his trembling breath could not be heard. In the head of the girl was still clearly shadowed by a peyot's face with headscarf eyes whose skin was like boiling pool. His whole body was shaking. But he doesn't want to be protected. This time he was determined to be useful.

***