Chapter Text
Rox repeated Ras’s words regarding the tournament of the sources. So, that’s why he wanted to free us!
Now it all made sense to her. She deduced that since the Forbidden Five were elemental masters, Ras would have had them all compete in the tournament for whatever plan he had in store. The gall that this wretched tiger had! To think that he would have used the Forbidden Five as pawns for his plan. She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when his delusional control over them came crashing down on him.
Thanks to Ras’s disclosure of entering the tournament, Rox now found herself in a race against time to find a way to free her brethren. She could practically feel the sand draining from the hourglass. There wasn’t a moment to lose. Without further delay, she activated the soundproof spell, the runes once again lighting up the walls, before their glow waned. She then approached the door and began to weave a complex locking spell. The room was now as secure as a vault; the door lock designed specifically for no one to be granted entry, except for Nokt.
Rox settled onto the dusty wooden floor and arranged her legs into a comfortable cross-legged position. She drew a deep breath, the air filling her vessel’s lungs, and slowly exhaled. She inhaled and exhaled a few more times before closing her eyes. With practiced ease, she reached out and entered Jordana’s mind.
The transition was jarring, as it always was. Rox opened her eyes, now in the form of her original body. She held up her hands and admired her sharp claws before looking down to see her small, nimble legs. The familiar weight of her sandogasa hat pressed down on her head. Despite knowing that this form wasn’t real, it was a comforting sensation against the unfamiliarity of the body she possessed. Oh, how she hated having to walk around with such lanky legs.
She stood in a flat, vast grass field. The sky above was filled with thick, dark clouds. A deafening boom reverberated through the mental world, followed by a blinding flash of lightning. She instinctively shielded her eyes, her claws brushing the wide brim of her hat. Then, the sky opened, not with a gentle drizzle of rain but a torrential downpour.
There was no way she would search through Jordana’s memories in this chaotic landscape. This would not do for her.
With a mental command, she began to visualize a different setting, an organized space that would replace the chaotic storm. She projected a specific image into the raging tempest, her intentions clear. With each carefully placed thought, she began to actively alter and reshape the landscape. The storm slowly began to recede. The heavy rain ceased, the sound of thunder now just a distant rumble, and the lightning faded into weak flickers.
Rox now stood in a small library, filled with the scent of paper and leather. There were rows of shelves, all filled to the brim with perfectly aligned books. Their spines were adorned with ornate lettering, their titles indicating the context of the memories they contained. Each book was a window into a specific moment of Jordana’s life, a captured memory, waiting to be read.
She admired the setting that took up the mind space of her host. It reminded her of when she and Nokt used to go to the tribal library, where she spent countless hours engrossed in her magical studies. She sighed in content, savoring the serenity. Here, no one could disturb her from her work.
Rox strode to the nearest shelf, her claws trailing lightly along the spines as she considered her options. She glossed over the books that were labeled ‘childhood’, ‘school’, ‘hobbies’, and many other trivial parts of Jordana’s life. Her lips curled up in distaste. These things held no value for her. Her eyes landed on a volume that said, ‘magic’. Intrigued, she began to devour the book, sifting through the memories contained within the pages.
In such a short amount of time of learning Theroxian magic, Jordana was able to perform telekinesis, crystallomancy, the static spell, create a lightning storm, and even corrupt the magic of Gandalaria, the high sorceress. For someone who has had over a lifetime of experience in magic, Rox had to admit she was impressed with Jordana’s capabilities. This girl certainly held a natural talent in the mystical arts. But talent was nothing without control, something Rox knew all too well.
She placed the book back on the shelf and moved on to another one. Then another, and then another. Her frustration grew with each book. Most of these memories were mundane, unimportant, and utterly useless to her goal. She returned the half dozen books back to where she found them before moving on to another shelf. Then, she tore through another dozen books and promptly returned them, with no luck in finding anything of use to her. Rox groaned impatiently, realizing that her search was going to take much longer than she had anticipated.
Information was all that mattered to her. Everything else was irrelevant. She couldn’t care any less about the emotions attached to these moments, nor the personal sentiments Jordana had felt. The moments of joy, sadness, fear, love, and hatred — all of it was inconsequential. All her desires, her ambitions, and her dreams were foolish. Rox continued to read the volumes of memories, determined to find something, anything of use to her.
The tranquility of the library was suddenly broken by a piercing shriek of surprise that bounced off the shelves and echoed across the ceiling.
With her concentration now disrupted, she let out a sigh of frustration. Even in the mental world, she couldn’t find solitude. Of course, her host just had to wake up now and discover her presence here. Didn’t this girl know that it was rude to make noise in a library? With deliberate slowness, she turned around, and her orange eyes met the widened, fear-stricken brown eyes of Jordana.
For a long, breathless moment, Jordana was paralyzed in terror at the sight of Rox, bathed in the dim light of the library. Her presence felt so overwhelmingly dark and malevolent. A bone-chilling coldness emanated from her that began to seep into the room. Jordana’s eyes met Rox’s glacial gaze. Her breath hitched in her throat, and a cold flash seared through her that made the hair on her arms stand up. Rox’s dark, ragged robe and tattered cape, coupled with her intimidating mask obscuring the lower half of her face, projected an aura of menace. To her, Rox looked like something out of a nightmare.
Her eyes landed on the sharp, curved claws of Rox’s hands. She shuddered at the horrifying thought of them piercing her flesh. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to run away, but her feet remained rooted to the ground. She was in the dark, completely clueless as to what happened to her and how she ended up here. She desperately needed answers, and unfortunately, it seemed that this creature was the only source of information. A glimmer of hope fluttered amidst the rising tide of terror within her. Perhaps this stranger could help her. She had to take the risk.
Rox, initially bristling with anger at the intrusion, found her irritation slowly evaporating. She tilted her head, observing Jordana’s form with curiosity.
So, this is what she looks like, she mused, taking in the slim build of the teenager. Her eyes moved to Jordana’s curly, auburn hair bun. She shifted her focus to her soft, smooth facial skin and her Imperian mark on her cheek before settling on the curve of her red lips. For a fleeting moment she felt a twinge of envy, coveting the beauty that Jordana held. She now wished for her real body to possess the same allure, to no longer wear a mask to hide her face.
Then, the feeling was gone as she hardened herself. Beauty didn’t matter in a cruel, unforgiving world. It was merely a distraction, and distractions were weaknesses. Weaknesses could not be tolerated. Weakness led to pain, suffering, and death. All that mattered was strength.
Rox’s gaze remained fixed on Jordana, who continued to tremble before her. Her posture shifted subtly, her body leaning ever so slightly forward. Unconsciously, she licked her lips, practically tasting the sweet, potent waves of fear radiating off Jordana. The intoxicating, palpable terror was like drinking a heady wine, and she craved more. The tangible flavor resonated deep within her, stirring a primal, insatiable hunger that she hadn’t felt in ages.
It brought back vivid memories of times long past, when the villagers of the Wyldness cowered in fear before her, while the rest of her siblings laughed in sickening delight. When kings and queens that ruled over entire tribes prostrated themselves before the Five and pleaded for their lives. It felt so good to have complete power over others. To have such power over life and death. In her eyes, Jordana was prey, nothing more.
Rox yearned to bathe and drown in her host’s fear until there was nothing left but despair. She took a step forward towards Jordana before stopping herself. Her hand clenched into a fist, her claw digging into her palm in a conscious effort to restrain herself and quell the urge to further terrify her host.
I shouldn’t, she told herself. Perhaps later, she could feast on Jordana’s dread. But not now. This wasn’t the time to turn herself loose and indulge in her twisted appetite. Her mission was far more important, and time was slowly running out.
“Quiet yourself, child,” Rox commanded, her voice holding a subtle edge of warning. “I’m trying to read.” She gestured loosely to the open book in her hand.
Jordana, filled to the brim with fear, slowly managed to stammer out, “W-who are you?”
For a moment, Rox couldn’t believe that this girl didn’t see the family resemblance. She didn’t even bother to offer an answer and buried her face in the book.
“Are… are you one of the Forbidden Five?” Jordana’s voice rose slightly with a flicker of recognition.
Without looking up, Rox offered a curt nod, her attention still glued to the memories within the book.
For a member of the Forbidden Five, Jordana didn’t expect her to be rather… short. She had imagined a tall, imposing figure like Ras or the wolf man that was freed at the ritual. Still, her height didn’t make her look any less intimidating.
“I am Rox of the Forbidden Five. And I know who you are, Jordana.”
“How do you know my name?” Jordana slowly asked, unsettled that this stranger, who she had never met before, knew her name.
Rox ignored the question and continued to read.
“I only saw one of the Five come out of the portal. How is it that you’re here? Why are you here? And where are we?” Each question tumbled out of her mouth in quick succession, a frantic plea for answers. Her mind was racing, trying to piece together what was happening.
“Too many questions,” Rox stated flatly.
Jordana made her way to a wooden table, pulled up a chair, and sat down. She took in a few deep breaths and rubbed her forehead.
“Where are we?” Jordana asked.
Rox heaved a sigh and shook her head. Even if she wanted to, she could not rid Jordana of this place. It seemed that she would now have to endure this whelp’s presence until her task here was complete. “We are in your mental landscape, within your consciousness,” she answered.
Jordana’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Um, what does that even m—”
Rox cut her off mid-sentence. “We’re inside your mind. It's a place that exists inside every living being, one that very few know how to access,” she clarified with a hint of condescension, as if explaining something extraordinarily simple to a child.
“Oh, wait. A mindscape! I remember reading a bit of it in one of the Theroxian scrolls,” Jordana said, her eyes widened with recognition.
“But… if we’re inside my mind, then how is it we have bodies?” Jordana questioned.
“Our real bodies aren’t here. These are just our mental forms,” Rox said.
Jordana watched as Rox opened another book, her fingers delicately turning the pages. Somehow, she could feel every slight movement, each flip of the paper, and the sharp claws touching the book. She didn’t know why, but she was becoming increasingly anxious, a primal fear gripping her. Suddenly, an inexplicable, overwhelming feeling of vulnerability seized her.
“Um, how do I get out of here?” Jordana asked, her voice trembling, gazing pleadingly at Rox, hoping for an answer.
“You don’t. Your fate has already been sealed,” Rox replied curtly, her attention completely absorbed by the book in front of her. Every word she said was like a hammer blow to Jordana's hopes.
“What happened to me? Why am I not in my body? Please, tell me what’s happened to me!” Jordana's voice rose to a panicked pitch.
Rox let out a chortle. “Why don’t you use that little brain of yours?”
The very last moments of the ritual surfaced in Jordana’s mind. The memory was now crystal clear, and the fragmented pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. A red, fiery bolt shot straight towards her before a burning pain stabbed her in her chest.
“That red thing that hit me. Was… was that you?”
“My soul,” Rox answered aloofly.
“Your soul?” Jordana repeated, her voice thin with terror. She recoiled internally, knowing that this entity dwelled within her own being filled her with revulsion.
But if Rox’s soul was inside her, and they were both here in her mind, then… who was controlling her body? A new, even more terrifying wave of panic washed over her. “You… you did something to me! I was in my body before, but now I’m not! What did you do to me?!”
Rox finally turned back to Jordana, her lips curved into a cruel smirk, hidden behind her mask. “I can’t believe I have to spell it out for you. It’s called being possessed. By yours truly,” she said with dark amusement.
“I’m… oh no. No, no,” Jordana whispered, letting out a shuddered breath and shaking her head in denial. The realization hit her like a physical blow, sending waves of nausea through her. She buried her face in her arms and felt like she was about to puke. She didn’t know if that was even possible, since her form and this place only existed in her mind. It was like a nightmare now turned into a reality.
Jordana took a moment to process all of this. She was now possessed by a member of the Forbidden Five. More questions began to flood her mind. Why was Rox possessing her body? What could she want with her? What did she have planned? Would she ever leave her body? Did anyone else know that she was being possessed?
“Could you leave my body? Please?” she asked shakily.
“No,” Rox flatly replied.
“What can I do to make you leave?” Jordana asked, hoping to appeal to her in some way.
Rox remained silent and continued to read.
“If you need something, or if you need me to do something, tell me, and I’ll do it,” Jordana desperately offered.
Rox sighed loudly, clearly annoyed by Jordana’s attempts to bargain.
“There is nothing you can offer or do that will make me leave,” Rox said, as if her words were a law that Jordana could not break, or else she would suffer the consequences.
“Can you at least tell me what you’re doing here, reading… books? Wait, why are there so many books here?”
Rox let out a short laugh, amused by her host’s naivety and inability to understand what this place really was.
“This is a library. What did you expect me to do?” Rox countered.
“Wait, you said that we’re in my mind. Are these books my memories?” Jordana asked.
“They are,” Rox answered, now bringing her focus back to the book.
Jordana could feel Rox’s hands as she went through the memories in the book. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t just an invasion of privacy. It felt like a parasite was burrowing its way into her, rummaging through the most intimate aspects of herself. It was like a diary being read through without permission. Her mind, her sacred space where all her memories were stored in, was being desecrated by this evil soul. As Rox continued to read one book after another, Jordana was overwhelmed with a throbbing pain in her head. It was almost like a slow, agonizing migraine hitting her hard. With every page Rox turned, the pain grew.
“You… you can’t do this. This is my life you’re looking at!” Jordana cried out in desperation.
“Yes, I can. For now, you’re just going to have to deal with it,” Rox stated unsympathetically.
“But I can’t!” Jordana’s voice broke, rising an octave in panic. “I want you to leave, and I want to return to my body! Just leave me alone!”
Rox’s eyes narrowed; the girl’s constant whining was starting to get under her nerves. “Why don’t you go find yourself a book instead of bothering me?” Rox snapped, her tone sharp and dismissive. “Perhaps you can revisit some of your cherished memories. Well, assuming you have any,” she suggested, further twisting the knife.
Jordana shook her head vehemently. “No, you need to leave! This is my mind, and you’re invading my privacy!”
“That’s rich, coming from you, who so rudely interrupted my reading and invaded my privacy earlier,” Rox smugly retorted.
“I… I did?” Jordana asked naively.
Rox snickered, amused by the girl’s obliviousness. Or maybe she was just that dense.
Jordana’s brow furrowed, her confusion slowly morphing into realization. “Hey, you’re just trying to twist my words!” she exclaimed. “Just get out! Please!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Rox said, before pulling out another book, indifferent to the growing distress of her unwilling host.
“Well, how would you feel if I went into your mind and began to read all of your memories?” Jordana asked, hoping that she appealed to Rox’s empathy. That is, assuming she had the capacity to empathize with others.
“How do you think I’d feel?” Rox asked back, a dangerous glint now present in her eyes.
“Um, uncomfortable? Scared? Terrified?” Jordana guessed, trying to articulate the whirlwind of feelings she was currently experiencing.
“Try furious. But I very much doubt you’d even want to see what my cathedral holds. Not a place for children like you.”
Jordana bit back the urge to ask for clarification, knowing that whatever Rox was alluding to was something she wouldn’t want to know. It was better to just remain in blissful ignorance than know whatever her memories held.
“I’ll take your word for it,” she whispered.
“Finally, common ground. Now, could you please be quiet and leave me alone?” Rox asked with fake politeness before starting a new book, creating a fresh wave of pain for her host.
“No! You leave me alone! I… I can’t stand this feeling!” Jordana begged shakily.
Rox shot her a glare. “I’m starting to lose my patience with you. Cease your incessant whining this instant.”
“Every time you look at my memories, it hurts! Please, just stop!” Jordana cried out, her voice breaking into a choked sob.
Rox ignored her host’s continuous pleas, completely disregarding the agony she was inflicting, and flipped through another page.
“Why are you even looking at my memories?”
“That is none of your concern. Now shut up, before I make you,” Rox threatened sharply, sending shivers down Jordana’s spine.
Rox’s eyes landed on a book titled ‘enemies’. Perhaps this could give her insight into who the masked figures were at the ritual. With a spark of interest, she pulled the book out and began to read it, all the while hearing the irritating noises of pain coming from Jordana, her hands now grasping at her head.
The memory began with Jordana sitting alone at her desk with a volcano experiment in front of her, while the rest of the students were gathering around and admiring some odd-looking cube with lights floating around it. Rox rolled her eyes and turned the page, completely uninterested in her host’s childhood.
She skipped a few pages before observing another memory. The setting took place at the Shadow Dojo on the night of the blood moon. Jordana opened the gateway while Ras chanted the required incantations. A battle began to unfold at the ritual. Masked figures emerged from the forest of spirits and began to perform an all-too-familiar martial art. These must be the ninja Ras and Jordana mentioned throughout the memories she read.
“Practitioners of spinjitzu. What weaklings!” Rox chuckled.
Then, something in the sky caught her attention. It was a red, burning dragon, soaring up in the sky. Rox’s eyes narrowed, immediately recognizing the accursed technique, the very thing that defeated the Five eons ago. The red ninja had just performed rising dragon. Much to her dismay, she soon saw two other ninjas perform it. She clenched her fist and growled in frustration.
“Those wretched dragons,” she hissed, muttering curses under her breath. “Why haven’t they died from old age yet? Or wasting sickness?! Argh!”
They must have taught these ninjas their fighting technique in case the Five escaped. Rox had a nagging feeling that she and Nokt wouldn’t see the last of them. Though this news bode ill, she took something positive away from the memory. The dragon masters were now weak. If they were at full strength, they themselves would have tried to stop the ritual. Once the Five were fully reunited, taking their revenge on those so-called masters would be a piece of cake.
Rox slammed the book shut and carelessly threw it over her shoulder, landing with a thud on the ground.
Jordana felt like a sledgehammer just hit her hard in the head. “Augh! Stop!” she screamed in pain, falling off the chair and collapsing to the floor.
Upon seeing her host crumple to the floor, Rox let out a scornful laugh that echoed through the library. Hearing her host’s whimpers and cries of pain was now becoming less of an annoyance to her and more like music to her ears, taking a sickening delight in it.
Each book that was taken out, and each page that Rox turned now felt like she was adding more fuel to a fire that was burning Jordana’s mind. The cruel, mocking laugh caused something to break within her. She slowly, shakily, stood up. A spark of anger grew within her. All she wanted now was for this monster to leave her alone. This was her body, her mind, and hers alone. Rox didn’t belong here.
One title immediately caught Rox’s attention. In golden letters, it read, ‘Source Dragon’. Surely, there had to be something of value in there. She opened the book and began to observe the memory, now witnessing a discussion taking place between Empress Beatrix and Dr. LaRow. She listened intently to every word that the two said. Her interest grew upon hearing the words that the empress said regarding the Source Dragon that they held imprisoned underneath the city.
Imprisoned? Who imprisoned it? And how? Rox wondered, curiosity rising within her. Imprisoning a Source Dragon was quite an impressive feat.
She was well aware of the existence of Source Dragons and how they operated. They were never known to reveal themselves to the mortals or set foot in the realms unless they voluntarily chose to. It was obvious to her that this Source Dragon didn’t come here of its own free will. Someone must have lured it to Imperium.
The memory shifted to Jordana in front of a strange contraption that Rox couldn’t even begin to understand. She watched as Jordana commenced the energy-draining process of the Source Dragon. The test failed, yet she tried again. Seven times she tried, each one ending in failure. Her persistence surprised Rox, who was initially expecting her as one to give up so easily.
Dr. LaRow was now chastising Jordana for trying to drain the dragon over her pathetic desire to compete with Ana. Yet, she continued her attempts to drain the dragon’s power, just to prove her worth. To prove that she was better than her rival. Such imprudence. Such determination, wasted over something so foolish and insignificant.
After the eighth attempt, she successfully drained the Source Dragon.
She turned a page, watching Jordana sneak through a crowd of Imperians to leave her realm. Then Ras intercepted her, giving praise to her for draining the Source Dragon, before babbling on about how he used the Empress as a pawn and her resources to seek out more Source Dragons.
It was as clear as day to Rox that the tiger was manipulating Jordana. She listened as Ras monologued about his plan before Jordana followed behind him, and the two left Imperium.
Rox added two and two together. Ras used the container of Source Dragon energy to access the Shadow Dojo. He unveiled all its ancient knowledge and assembled all the necessary components to commence the blood moon ritual and free them. Though it wasn’t explicitly stated in the memory, Rox knew without a doubt that Ras was the one responsible for luring the Source Dragon and imprisoning it under Imperium. But how he did it remained to be seen.
She was now more convinced than ever that there was a memory here that could help free the Five. Searching for the answer was like looking for a needle in a haystack. But her instincts told her that she was getting close. She put the book away and moved to another shelf.
Rox’s ear twitched at the sound of rapid footsteps echoing down the hallway behind her. Her head snapped around to see Jordana rushing towards her, whose eyes blazed with resentment, her cheeks were flushed with anger, and her fists were clenched at her sides.
“If you won’t leave, I’ll make you leave!” Jordana shouted. She was going to make Rox pay for all the pain that she had caused her. Everything that she said to make her leave was either met with cold indifference or contempt. It seemed that violence was the only language that this witch understood.
Jordana skidded to a halt a few feet away from Rox. She began to wave her hands in the air to call upon her Theroxian magic and thrust her arms out to release it. Except, nothing happened. The orange energy she expected to see was absent, and she couldn’t feel the familiar buildup of magic beneath her palms. She tried to cast the spell again in a more forceful attempt, but her magic still wouldn’t respond.
“Wha— huh? It’s not working!” Jordana exclaimed incredulously. She moved her hands frantically, grunting as she desperately tried to conjure her magic. She had done it enough times by now to know that she performed the spell correctly, so why wasn’t it working?
Rox let out a throaty chuckle as she watched Jordana's futile attempts at summoning her magic. “Have you already forgotten? We’re inside your mind. Magic only works in the real world,” she sneered.
A flicker of realization crossed Jordana’s face, quickly followed by a fresh wave of anger. Of course. That would explain it.
“Leave my body right now, or else!” Jordana shouted.
Behind her mask, a smile formed on Rox’s lips, amused by Jordana's pathetic attempt at intimidating her. "Or else what? What are you going to do? Talk me to death?" she gibed, before giggling to herself.
“I’ll do worse than that, you monster,” Jordana vowed venomously.
She met the feral orange eyes, and for a moment, they widened, filled with an emotion that she couldn’t quite discern. They then quickly narrowed with a piercing glare, followed by an animalistic growl. But this time, Jordana didn’t show any fear. She simply glared back at the evil being in front of her.
"Insolent whelp! How dare you call me that!” Rox hissed, pointing one of her claws at her. “I should have you groveling at my feet this instant and thanking me for tolerating your pitiful presence for this long.”
Jordana grimaced in disgust as she envisioned the humiliating act. There was no way she would ever kneel before Rox, whether it was in the mental or physical world.
“Well, I can’t tolerate your presence!” Jordana shot back with indignation. “What you’re doing is hurting me! You need to get out right now!”
Rox let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m becoming tired of hearing that annoying voice of yours.”
“Hey! My voice is not annoying! You are!” Jordana snapped, the childish comeback escaping her lips before she could even stop herself.
Rox let out a condescending chortle, unable to take her seriously, not even for a second. “You are certainly the feistiest host I’ve ever had.”
Jordana ignored Rox’s words, not caring whether it was an insult or a compliment. Her blood boiled hearing Rox laugh at her again, that mocking sound that was aimed at belittling her. “I’m not going to ask you again! Leave!” she shouted, her voice thick with rage.
Rox rolled her eyes dismissively and scoffed. “As if you could make me. Now be quiet and run along now.” She then turned around, and right as she was about to continue down the aisle, she felt something slam into her back, knocking the air from her lungs and sending her to the ground.
Momentarily disoriented, she felt a pair of hands grip her shoulders and flip her onto her back. Jordana mounted Rox and pinned her arms to the floor with hers. She pulled her fist back before striking the wolf in the face and mask. “Get out! Get out! Get out!” Jordana screamed repeatedly.
Normally, Rox would have immediately retaliated or shouted a torrent of insults. Yet, beneath Jordana’s assault, she remained remarkably still, offering no resistance or struggle against the barrage of punches. No cruel taunts or belittlements escaped from her mouth. Her cold eyes were unnervingly calm amidst the pain. To her, this was like a kitten trying to maul a lion. A fruitless attempt to drive her out. However, she had to give credit to this petulant child for mustering the courage to stand up to her, something that very few ever did.
Another series of punches rained down on her, and she welcomed it with open arms. For too long, she remained in a state of existence, without feeling. This was the most pain that she felt in eons, a distant sensation that she once felt daily in the heat of battle. Though she wished the girl would hit her harder, it still felt good. A primal craving ignited within her, a desire for more. She wanted to experience that rush of adrenaline, that electric jolt she felt so long ago. The exhilarating sense of feeling alive.
A paradoxical laugh bubbled within Rox and escaped her lips. Startled by the sound, Jordana immediately halted her jabs and stared down at Rox in disbelief. Behind her anger, a pit of unease began to grow within Jordana. How could she laugh like this? This wasn’t the mocking laughter she heard from her earlier; this was unhinged. Deeply perturbed, she tried to search for an answer within the depths of Rox’s orange eyes. Was she laughing at her? At her anger? At her forceful attempt to make her leave?
“Wh—what is wrong with you?!” Jordana stammered.
The only response Rox gave was her laughter, gradually growing in pitch and intensity.
Jordana landed a well-placed punch in Rox’s eye to make her shut up, but all it did was further fuel her deranged laughter.
“Stop! Stop laughing!” Her voice trembled with a mixture of anger and confusion, unable to comprehend the inappropriate response.
“And here I thought you wanted me to leave! Come on, is that the best you can do?” Rox taunted, a deliberate goad to infuriate Jordana and incite her into unleashing more pain upon her.
Provoked by the wolf’s words, Jordana continued to strike her, each blow harder than the last. Her knuckles ached and burned, but the sensation was easily drowned out by her rage.
The increased ferocity of her strikes caused Rox to erupt with hysterical laughter, relishing the pain. The sound was like nails on a chalkboard that grated on Jordana’s eardrums, further stoking the flames of her fury.
Jordana abruptly ceased her punches, her chest heaving with exertion and letting out heavy breaths.
Rox leaned her head up and whispered closely into Jordana’s ear. “You poor thing. Hasn’t it already sunk into your thick skull that your mind and body belong to me?”
Their faces were so close now that Jordana could see the wrinkles around Rox’s eyes, a telltale sign of a smile behind the creepy mask. She bared her teeth, and in a fit of rage, she grabbed Rox’s head and slammed it to the ground repeatedly. “No! This is my body! Not yours!”
A minute later, she was short of breath, small beads of sweat now trickling down her face.
“Are you done yet?” Rox asked, completely unfazed by Jordana’s aggression.
“I… won’t stop. Until you leave,” Jordana panted.
Rox slowly shook her head and let out a tut. “A sheep cannot eat a wolf. And you are not a wolf,” she said before cackling, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction in seeing just how powerless her host was.
Without another word, Jordana’s hands shot out and clamped around Rox’s throat, her fingers digging deep into the wolf’s fur and flesh. She sought to silence that infernal laughter, to finally rid herself of the dark, malevolent presence that had made her suffer while invading her memories. She would do whatever it takes to regain control over her body, even if it meant choking this evil witch to death.
Rox’s eyes widened in surprise, the manic laughter dying in her throat, replaced by a strangled gasp. Jordana's thumbs pressed against her windpipe, squeezing tighter with each passing second.
“Oh, that’s the spirit!” Rox rasped out.
A strong feeling began to bloom in her, one that she hadn’t experienced in ages. The euphoric sensation of aliveness surged through her, each moment of constriction intensifying the feeling. The thrilling pain she found herself deeply engrossed in was interrupted, as she felt her control over Jordana’s body slowly beginning to slip away. She let herself become so distracted in her state of pleasure that she had unconsciously loosened her grip over her vessel.
I can’t stay here all day. I’m just wasting time.
Rox grabbed Jordana’s wrists, pried them off her neck, and conjured up a swift thought to put her host in her place.