Three

Chapter Three

NICOLETTE'S POV–

Everyone was gathered for Dad’s burial in the cemetery. All were wearing black as a tradition, while I wore white. Maybe that explained why people kept giving me unpleasant looks. White can also be worn at funerals, and I didn't have any black clothes.

Four men rolled the coffin down into the bottom of the rectangular hole they had dug, while the other two started to cover it. I could hear the rattling of the soil as it landed on top of the coffin, as well as random gossip around me. Aside from the gossip I could audibly hear, I was starting to get annoyed by their looks. It sent an uneasy feeling over me.

I exhaled and tightly folded my hands together. I needed to calm down; it was my dad's final day on earth, and I couldn't afford to ruin it.

“Hey, what's up?” It was James. His voice whispered in my ear as he leaned his shoulder against me while keeping his eyes on the men burying the coffin.

“It’s nothing,” I answered, giving him a brief look from the corner of my eye.

Like I said, I was trying to focus on the burial when I felt something hard hit my back. I groaned, stretching my body as I scanned the area to find where it came from. Whoever did that is going to get a good left hook from me, I swear.

Another came from nowhere, and it hit my shoulder.

“What the fuck!” I blurted. Hearing me curse made every head turn to me, especially Uncle Arnold, who shot me a horrible look.

I gasped, clutching my shoulder; it fucking hurt. Not only that, I clenched my jaw and threw a threatening look at every gaze I crossed. This had gone too far. I didn't have enough patience for this kind of disrespect. But as I had seen, it only raised the tension.

What the fuck was wrong with these people? I was the one being harassed, and they had the nerve to look at me like that?

“What the fuck is your problem?” I stood up and shouted, glaring at every face at the funeral. By now, I was totally pissed off by those disgusting looks from everyone.

“You are the problem!” A man in his 20s shouted back, standing at the end of the tent. “You should die with your father!”

That's it! I had had enough of this piece of trash.

Just as I took a step, a heavy hand grabbed my shoulders, making me unconsciously swivel around.

My blazing eyes met Uncle Arnold’s disgusted gaze. He appeared more troubled by my reaction than by the humiliation I had just received.

“Nicolette, enough,” his low, deep voice still sounded commanding.

“What? Why me?” I protested, pressing my brows together. “Am I not allowed to protect myself from this kind of cruelty?”

He breathed out, trying to keep his composure. “This is why I ask you to leave, because coming back here is your biggest mistake.”

I shoved his hand off my shoulder and faced him. “And why is that?”

“She’s a monster!”

“Their family is cursed!”

“Stone her!”

“Stop!” Uncle commanded while raising his hand to them.

Even the mayor of his city couldn't control his people. What a shame. Every hand at the funeral lifted a stone to throw at me, and most of those stones hit parts of my body. Did these fucking people just come here to torture me? I couldn't believe that these were the kind of people Uncle Arnold had been serving for three terms.

A stone went straight to my face, although I was covering it with my arms. It struck my nose so badly that I instantly collapsed on the ground. Damnit! It seemed like my nose was broken, my head was aching, my arms were covered in scratches, my knees felt like they had no strength, and they also had considerable wounds. Cursed it! I would definitely die if this went on.

I literally crawled my way out of the burial. This was the most bullshit thing I had ever done; however, I badly needed to escape from these people. They didn't give a fuck if they killed someone in front of a government official. And it seemed Uncle Arnold didn't give a shit if I died on the spot. He only cared about his position and reputation.

Believing it was safe now since I was at a distance from the burial, I forced my knees to carry my weight, knowing that they were shaking due to the unbearable pain from my wounds. Furthermore, I cautiously took a step, one by one, towards the road leading to my dad's house. Besides, I desperately needed to get out of here rather than follow my dad to his burial.

Just when I thought I could live, I saw several people heading toward me; they were all coming from the direction of my dad's house. And as I could see, they were all carrying stones, ready to stone me to death.

This was getting worse than ever. I never came here for this.

Left without any other options, I ran toward the woods a mile from the funeral, struggling to keep my feet on the ground. It was as haunted as it seemed, and I had no idea what kind of beasts lived there, but damn! Did I have a choice? If hiding in the woods would save me, then I would rather deal with those creepy beasts with my charm, if I had any, than be helplessly stoned to death by those cruel beings.

“Die! Die!”

I could hear their voices cursing at me, and it appeared that they would stop at nothing just to kill me. What had I ever done to deserve this? I just came here for my dad, and the whole city wanted me dead. Insane was an understatement for these idiots.

The forest swallowed me the moment I stepped in, and it felt as if I had been walking for a mile, although I had just arrived. Those bitches who had been chasing me slowly stepped back, giving me the impression that they were afraid to follow me in here. Guess I made the right decision for now.

In the woods, it looked like time had shifted, or maybe because of the tall trees that covered the sky, it seemed like it was already evening when it was still broad daylight. For some reason, I had a hunch that I had seen this place before, or had I been here before? Why was it giving me a feeling that this place was somehow familiar?

My foot continued to walk further, as if it had its own mind. Somehow, I couldn't feel anything—the pain, the aching of my head, and my wounds… it was all gone. Completely disappeared. What's with this place? It struck me as if it was inviting me to stay, and some part of me wanted to.

As I went deeper into the woods, a mist slowly enveloped the surroundings. I could feel the fine hairs on my skin stiffening as chills ran through me. Since I had the guts to intrude on this haunted place, I might as well build the courage to face whatever was coming.

In the blink of an eye, I froze where I stood. It appeared that my legs had turned to stone, and I couldn't move them. Sweat started to break out on my forehead. Dude, another uncanny, and I will definitely freak out. I wasn't trained for this.

Wait… What just happened? Did my vision just blur? Not only that, my eyelids were getting heavy, which gave me blurry sight. Gravity was pulling me to the ground. What now? I couldn't move a finger at all. I could vaguely see the silhouette of a paw appear from the mist. Maybe a dog’s paw? But it was too big for a dog's paw. And why on earth would a dog be here? Perhaps a hunting dog. It was coming towards me…

This is so bad… I’m busted…

Coming from nowhere, a palm just covered my face. I forced my eyes to open, and boom. I jolted and found myself sitting on a bed. Likewise, I was stunned for a moment.

What? What the fuck was that just now?

Panting, I scanned the whole place while my eyes almost popped out. This was Dad's room, which meant that I made it home. How? I was on the ground, frozen like ice. And… whose hand was that? Whoever’s hand it was, he must've taken me home.

Impressive. There was still a human being living in this hell.

Anyhow, I had plenty of questions in mind that were bothering me. I needed answers as soon as possible before they drove me insane.

And the only thing that could give me answers was Dad's journals.