Chapter 72: Obedience is Survival

The ash crunched under Camela's feet. Vincent’s hand trembled slightly in hers, it felt warm but unsteady. He was breathing too fast and each breath was shallow.

The masks swayed above them, their hollow eyes staring down on them, with their mouths open as if they were ready to bite.

The whispers grew louder and sharper, sounding like a chorus: “Love me. Fear me. Obey me. Choose me.”

Camela felt a burning sensation in her throat as she moved closer to Vincent, her voice trembling.

“Tell me which of them is you. Please…tell me,” she whispered.

He shook his head faintly, his golden eyes losing their light as he responded, “I don’t know anymore. They all feel like parts of me…pieces of lies and truth. I can’t tell which one I really am.”

Suddenly, the wind began to surge, and a mask broke free and fell from the branches above, landing at their feet. It wore Vincent’s gentle and loving smile—the same one she knew from their first night together when he kissed her hand by the candlelight

The mask spoke softly, “Camela…obey. Choose me.”

Camela bent down, her fingers trembling as she reached for the smiling mask. But Vincent's hand shot out and quickly grabbed her wrist.

“Don’t do it. That’s not me; it wants you to obey without thinking,” he said hoarsely.

The mask's mouth stretched wider as its whisper grew more intense. “But obedience is survival. Obey me, and I will keep him alive. Disobey, and he will burn.”

Camela froze, her nails digging into her palms in distress as she murmured, “I can’t let you die.”

Vincent's facial expression twisted in agony. “If you choose wrong…you’ll bury me forever.”

The mask hissed threateningly, “He is weak and he cannot save you…But I can.”

Feeling overwhelmed, Camela pulled back her hand just as the mask screeched; its smile transformed into sharp teeth before crumbling into ash.

The trees creaked ominously as more masks began to fall one by one around them.

Five masks lay on the ground circling them—each of the faces was distorted yet bearing Vincent’s face in different forms:

One laughed maniacally.

One wept silently.

One screamed in terror.

One of the masks grinned, revealing sharp teeth.

The other had a blank face, with no features at all.

They all spoke over each other, with their voices overlapping and clawing at Camela’s ears:

“Obey me.”

“Obey and live.”

“Obey and he will love you.”

“Obey or bleed.”

“Obey or vanish.”

Camela clasped her hands over her ears, trembling. “Stop! I won’t listen!” she yelled.

The maid's voice slipped through the chaos, calm and cold. “If you refuse to listen, you will die here. The lesson is obedience. Survival demands it.”

Camela's eyes burned with anger as she asked. “Obedience to who? To the masks? To him? To you?”

The maid’s whisper sliced through the air like a blade. “Obedience to the truth you fear most,” she replied.

Vincent coughed as he pulled her closer. “Camela…listen. Sometimes the only way through is to obey, even if it hurts. But you need to know who you're obeying.”

Suddenly, the screaming mask lunged toward Camela, slamming into her face.

She cried out and clawed at it, but it clung like wet skin. Its mouth pressed against hers, forcing a scream down her throat.

She staggered backward and gasped for breath, she felt dizzy and began to see visions—herself kneeling in a hall of flames, Vincent chained up nearby, and her father smiling down on them both.

The mask hissed against her skin. “Obey. Kneel. Beg. That is how you survive.”

Camela breathed sharply and clawed harder at it, her nails digging into her own skin.

“No…I won’t…” she cried out.

Vincent grabbed her shoulders urgently, his voice intense. “Camela! Just obey this once! Do what it says…kneel…before it kills you!”

Her heart shattered at his words as she dropped to her knees.

Instantly, the mask ripped away with a screech before turning to ash in the air around her. Her chest rose and fell rapidly; sweat dripped down her forehead as she looked up at Vincent, horrified.

“I…I obeyed,” she whispered.

He shook his head in disbelief but was visibly shaken himself.

“You survived,” he answered back.

The maid's whisper echoed through the garden. “Lesson one. Obedience keeps you alive; refusal costs blood.”

Now two masks hovered in front of her—one was gentle with soft eyes and lips slightly parted as if ready to speak words of love. The other one was fierce; it growled, baring its teeth and its eyes blazing with fury.

The gentle one said, with a sense of urgency, “Obey me. Love me and I will protect him safely.” Meanwhile, the fierce one snarled, “Obey me. Fear me and I will make you strong.”

Vincent shuddered, gripping her hand tightly. “Don’t trust either of them. They’re both traps.”

Camela’s voice quivered as she replied, “But what if I say no…”

Suddenly, the ground beneath her cracked open, with ash spilling out like a dark wave. Black roots curled upward, grasping at her ankles.

The maid's voice echoed ominously. “You can’t refuse forever. One path is obedience to love. The other path is obedience leading to fear. Both will keep you alive, but only one will keep you whole.”

Camela’s tears blurred her vision as she turned to Vincent. “Help me decide which path to take.”

His lips parted in response, leaving his mouth open but only blood flowed out, and his eyes rolled back in pain and terror.

The gentle mask leaned in closer and spoke softly in her ear, “If you obey me, his pain will end.” But then the fierce mask hissed menacingly, “If you obey me, no one can ever hurt you again.”

In a burst of frustration, Camela screamed and pushed both masks away. “I refuse to choose between love and fear!”

The masks shrieked in response before shattering into shards as ash fell around them.

Vincent collapsed against her shoulder, whispering weakly yet still alive, “You disobeyed…and yet you lived.”

The maid’s whisper became sharper. “Lesson two: Sometimes survival means breaking the rules. But know that every refusal has its price.”

The trees creaked as they bent inward, and from the highest branch hung a massive single mask. It wore Vincent’s face—but crowned with thorns.

Its golden eyes blazed fiercely while its mouth moved slowly with each word heavy: “Obey me, Camela. Place me on your head and you will command the fox. Refuse me, and he will belong to me forever.”

Camela stood frozen in place, her hands trembling uncontrollably. “I can’t...I can't wear his face…”

Vincent grasped her wrist urgently. “Don’t! It’s not really me…it’s a trap!”

The maid’s voice cut across him, louder than before. “Obedience is survival. To walk out of this garden, you must wear this mask.”

Tears streamed down Camela's face as she responded, “But if I wear it…what will happen to him?” she asked.

The mask spoke in a deeper tone, the voices of both her father and fox layered together. “He will remain here. I will depart. You will survive.”

Vincent grabbed her hands, staining her fingers with blood.

“Camela…please don’t do this. If you obey…it wins,” he whispered.

The mask moved closer, pressing against her forehead. “Make your choice. Now.”

The ash swirled around her as the trees groaned louder, and their branches snapped.

Camela's hands lifted, shaking as she struggled between Vincent's bloody grip and the crown-mask floating in front of her.

The maid whispered one final warning:

“Obedience will save you. Disobedience will destroy you. What is your path to survival?”

Camela froze in place and felt as if her breath was stuck in her throat.