InsANIty

Caroline left for the capital, enrolling in the Advanced Magic class—the official path to becoming a recognized witch. She bade farewell to Phel, whose eyes struggled to hide the ache. The entire town gathered to send Caroline off with warm wishes and hopeful cheers. The mayor himself shook her hand.

Phel smiled… even if part of her knew she'd be lonely. But this was for the best, right? Caroline deserved a break.

Although outwardly cheerful, a shadow of her mother's death persisted within her, perceptible even to Phel.

"Take care… Caroline. Don't forget me." Phel's voice trembled.

Caroline chuckled softly. "How could I forget you, Phel? You're family to me… my sister." She pulled Phel into a tight hug.

"See you soon."

Then, she finally departured

—

One year passed.

Phel kept the shop running, tending the stall Caroline once manned with passion. She learned a bit of combat in her Lizardmen form— Hoping that, someday, she'd stand beside Caroline again.

The news spread like wildfire.

Caroline—the prodigy. The Red Witch of the Kingdom.

No one spoke of Teracota anymore, the former candidate for the title. It was as if Caroline swallowed the world whole. The people adored her… worshipped her even.

Yet something gnawed at Phel's heart. Like there's something didn't feel right.

She packed up the stall one evening, crooning. Until a shadow fell across her counter.

"We're closed," she said without glancing up.

"Have you really forgotten my face… after all this time?"

That voice. Phel spun around.

There she stood.

Caroline.

The sun glinted off blonde hair, now long enough to be loosely braided and fall over her shoulder, bangs swept aside. A crimson dress clung to a body noticeably thinner. Shadows deepened hollow cheeks, framed shadowed eyes… A smile played, but her eyes… When had they turned red, like freshly spilled blood?

"Caroline! You… you're here!"

Phel flung her arms around her before she could stop herself.

"A lot of work has swamped me," Caroline said softly, "So… I thought I'd come back for a while. See my hometown. See you."

"You haven't written in months! I was starting to think you'd forgotten me…" Phel tried to sound playful.

But Caroline's smile didn't reach her eyes. They shimmered with something… hollow.

"I've just been… busy."

A soft laugh escaped her lips, but it felt brittle—like glass about to shatter.

Was that look… just Phel's imagination?

"Let's finish up here and head home." Caroline hooked her arm around Phel's shoulders. Her skin was ice-cold.

That night, Phel woke with a start to a strange, unsettling murmur coming from Caroline's room. Cautiously, she peered inside to find Caroline sitting cross-legged, her eyes closed, repeating the same cryptic words in a low, almost hypnotic tone.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

The chant crawled under Phel's skin. But she told herself it was nothing. She went back to bed.

In the morning,

And there was Caroline again. Smiling, humming, making breakfast. The perfect mask.

Over eggs and bread, Phel tried a harmless question.

"So… any news from the other witches? Wistery maybe? She knows you're staying here, right?" The knife in Caroline's hand stilled.

Her head snapped up; her wide eyes darted around, taking in the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

Those crimson eyes locked on Phel with a sharpness that turned her blood cold. But just as quickly…

Caroline smiled again. "Of course she does."

—

Phel left the house early that day, an uneasy weight pressing on her chest. She tried to lose herself in work. But whispers slithered through the crowd.

"Did you hear? They found goat heads."

"What?" Phel asked a customer. "Twelve of them. Skewered on stakes. Out by the city border."

She frowned. "…Why tell me that?"

The woman smiled, eyes glinting unnervingly.

"Because you should be careful… of what's standing next to you." The customer vanished into the crowd. Phel stared after her. Did… we have anyone like that in town?

When she finally packed up for the day, she spotted Caroline standing at the street corner— Arguing with someone on her device.

Or was she arguing… with herself? Phel went home, heart pounding.

That night… she heard whispers again.

From Caroline's room.

She couldn't sleep.

—

The next morning…The house was dead silent. No smell of breakfast. No hum of Caroline's song.

Phel walked through every room, Empty.

Finally… she opened Caroline's door, The stench hit her first.

And then—The symbols; Crimson runes, glowing with an internal, malevolent light, scrawled on the cold, unforgiving stone floor. They snaked across the rough surface, a blasphemous tapestry of power. More were etched into the damp, moss-covered walls, their sharp angles and intricate curves seeming to writhe and shift in the flickering torchlight. Even the ceiling, a vaulted expanse of darkness overhead, was not spared. The same crimson script crawled across its heights, forming a dizzying, inverted reflection of the floor's ominous design. Each mark pulsed with a silent energy, a promise of something terrible, something ancient, and something hungry. The air itself thrummed with a palpable tension, a suffocating weight of dread that pressed down on anyone who dared to witness the unholy display.

The coppery reek—Blood… She stumbled back—And collided with something behind her.

A shadow loomed over her. She looked up.

Caroline.

Staring down at her with hollow eyes, dark circles sinking deep into her skin.

"What… are you doing… in here… Phel?"

Her voice so Soft, But it sliced through Phel's spine like a dagger.

Without thinking Phel shoved past her And ran.

She ran until her legs gave out.

She ran until her lungs burned.

When she finally stopped—

Silence.

No voices.

No sounds.

She spun around—The market square was empty.Where is everyone…?She peered into the windows.

Shops… homes…

Abandoned.

Gone.

Her throat tightened—She screamed.

She screamed until it felt like her voice tore from her throat."…It's no use, Phel."

The voice—Right behind her.

She turned.

Caroline stood at the edge of the street—

Alone.

Smiling.

In a city stripped of life.

"Caroline… what have you done…?"

"What do you mean?" Phel's voice cracked in the suffocating silence.

"Where is everyone? What have you done?"

Caroline tilted her head. Her voice came soft—too soft. "I didn't do anything. I don't understand what you're implying."

"Stop lying!" Phel's shout echoed through the empty streets. "Stop pretending and tell me the truth!"

Caroline stood there—expression unreadable. "I only… made a mistake."

Her lips trembled. "I'm trying… to fix it."

Phel stared at her— This wasn't the Caroline she knew. No… this wasn't anyone she knew.

"Who… are you?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Are you even Caroline…? The Caroline I knew?"

And Caroline smiled— That hollow, soulless smile.

"The Caroline you knew…Was never me."

From the sky, a silhouette descended. It was Wistery.

Her cheek reddened, as if she'd been struck. Her shoulders slumped with exhaustion— But her eyes burned with something terrifyingly warm… Warm, and only for Caroline.

"All preparations are complete." Her voice was hoarse. "I believe… it's time."

Caroline's eyes darkened. "They offered their lives…?"

Wistery nodded. "As ordered. I have no right to question it."

She handed Caroline a sharp iron stake. "You said… you would do it… for me."

Caroline met her gaze— Her face calm. Too calm. "Are you ready?"

Wistery closed her eyes. "I am."

Without hesitation, Caroline drove the stake straight into Wistery's heart.

The sound— Sickening.

And Phel— Phel could only watch as blood poured out, as Caroline carefully collected every drop into a glass vial.

Phel wanted to scream— To run—But her body refused.

Her legs rooted to the ground as Caroline turned… Blood splattered across her skin, soaking her golden hair, staining her crimson dress.

Her red eyes gleamed in the darkness.

"Shall we begin the Ritual?"

She smiled— And stretched out her hand toward Phel.

"Come with me…Let us become…Eternal."

Phel's vision blurred with tears.

No—

No, this wasn't right.

She broke. Shifted into her lizard form— And ran.

She didn't care about the blinding light that erupted behind her. She ran until the town was nothing but a speck in the distance.

She ran until her lungs burned— Until her heart screamed.

And when she reached the next city—The streets were bathed in blood.

Circles of magic drawn in dark, rotting crimson.

It was happening again.

At the edge of the road— A body pierced through the heart with a stake. Staly. Dead.

She ran to another city—

The same.

Circles. Blood. Bodies.

Another city. And another.

Until finally…

The royal capital. And there…

Dead bodies. Dried blood. Corpses of nobles, soldiers— Even the king.

They had bitten their own tongues to die.

And then—The shadows.

Horrifying swarms of pitch-black forms, devouring every last trace of life—Before they drifted away like smoke.

Phel followed.

They led her back… To her home.

To their town.

And there… she saw them.

One by one…The shadows slipped into the cracks of every house…

They were the people. Her people.

Phel collapsed, sobs ripping through her throat.

She returned home… Their home.

But no matter how many times she tried— She couldn't enter.

A barrier.

The house stood untouched. Frozen in time.

Days passed… Years passed.

Phel stayed.

The shadows haunted the empty streets— Feeding on human scent. Devouring everything…

Except animals. Except her.

They left her alone.

And always… they returned… To the house.

After a time… Phel gave up trying.

She simply sat at the market stall… In her lizard form… Living on in hollow routine.

She waited.

And waited.

Until…

Two strangers came.

Two humans… Invading the cursed city.