The rain continued to pour down dulling every other sound the atmosphere had to offer. The silence didn’t soothe her mind and instead, it only gave out the room for her thoughts that bombarded with questions that had no answers.
Her mother was alive but not once had she come in contact with her. Was there a reason and explanation of what happened or how it happened? All this while she had visited her mother with sadness in her heart but with every minute that passed by, Penny found it hard to fathom down the fact that the person wasn’t dead but alive.
She turned around from facing her back to Damien to look at the mirror where Damien had been looking right at her.
“Unable to sleep?” he asked her before turning his body to the side to look at her directly instead of using the mirror on the ceiling of the bed. Both of them had drenched in the rain to change their clothes to a fresher dry one with their hair in the process of drying.
“Is it possible to return from the dead?” it was something that was biting the back of her mind.
Damien didn’t answer right away. After a thunder growled in the sky, he said, “There have been readings, inscriptions on how people can be brought back from the dead but they all come from the unorthodox ways of the black and white witches. One might think that the white witch doesn’t hold such power but they actually do only that they are aware that it isn’t healthy to make use of it. Every action which goes against the universal nature comes back twice with the reaction one can far be able to resist.”
“But my mother was a human,” she frowned. Was there someone who had brought her back to life after her death?
“Did she have the same green eyes as you?” he asked her to see her shake her head.
“They were brown in color. Human-like.”
“When did you visit her grave after her death or being buried?” questioned Damien, “You moved the very day with your relatives,” Penny nodded to the question he asked. Now that she thought about it, it was strange that her relatives who never came to see what condition her mother and her were in had come on hearing the death of her mother. Relatives had later started to come like a proof of witness.
“It was five days later I went to see her again. The pain was too much to let go of her who had been with me all these years,” she said, thinking about the time of how much she had cried sitting at the grave but it had been a very short visit. A visit that didn’t go for more than two minutes which was why no one knew that she had come there. She had come quickly to only disappear. Had her mother awoken from her death in those five days? She didn’t know what to think of it as nothing made sense at the moment.
“I am sorry to hear what happened to your father and also about your mother,” Damien offered his piece of words. Penny gave him a small smile that lifted up her lips to only fall back. She was sad and confused.
“She must have her own reasons for not coming to meet me,” murmured Penny as if trying to console her but something told her that it was a lie and Damien’s expression told her the same which he didn’t utter out but only stared at her.
“Get some sleep. You will need it for tomorrow,” he said waiting for her to close her eyes. Penny nodded her head. It took a while before Damien heard her steady breathing to indicate that she had finally fallen asleep after spending more than an hour in the bed without actually falling asleep. He, who had been on the bed turned to his other side to push himself up from the bed before placing his feet on the ground and standing up.
Damien had been waiting for Penny to fall asleep and now that she had fallen deep in sleep thanks to the weather and her getting drenched in the rain, he walked towards the fireplace. Bending down he added a few more logs to keep the room temperature warm enough so that it wouldn’t be affected by the rain that continued outside.
Walking towards the stand to pick up the animal faux made coat and the very next second he had disappeared from the room in a blink of an eye. Damien was back in the house he had visited before. It was the black witch, Bathsheba’s house.
Bathsheba had her back against him. She was clinking glasses, picking up the little bottle to remove the cork of it and pour the contents inside the boiling pot which made bubbling sound in front of her.
“I was waiting when you would give me a visit,” said Bathsheba, as if expecting his arrival the lady turned to look at the pureblooded vampire who hadn’t bothered to knock on the door where the rain would have made him wet again.
“What are you boiling?” he glanced towards the pot and then the ingredients that were placed on either side of it. Some which were still full and some of the things that were emptied by putting in the pot.
Bathsheba turned back at the top, moving the coal like fire away from the pot to stop whatever she was preparing, “Just some potion for my daily use. If you are here at this house of the time, I assume it is for the girl that you have come.”
“Her mother’s body is missing from the coffin,” Damien raised his brow in question, “She saw her mother buried.”
“A lot of people are buried, councilman but not every single one of them stay there. Some bodies get stolen and some come back alive.”
Damien chuckled, “I wonder why I didn’t think about it,” he rolled his eyes to say, “What do you think happened?”
“I think you already know the answer to it. You are here only to confirm if what you deduced is the right one or not,” Bathsheba offered him a glass of blood which she had placed in the side.
