CHAPTER 483: YOU HAVE TO GIVE SOMETHING IN RETURN (2)

Clara had not been able to resist the temptation. It had all started a few weeks ago.... Well, maybe, well before that, but that was when she had taken the action.

"I can help you get those blemishes and wrinkles off your face."

After hearing those words from Aliya prior, Clara could not get rid of that taunting and inviting voice out of her head.

The words gnawed at her sanity, a cruel lullaby that repeated itself night after night, louder and sharper with each passing day. Maybe it was because she had been greatly tempted, as there was no other reason. The words had burrowed under Clara’s skin and nested in her heart, filling her every waking and sleeping moment. There was no escape, or so she thought.

She stared into the gilded mirror that once celebrated her beauty but now threw her disfigurement back at her like a slap. Despite this, she still spent hours in front of this vanity, with a picture of her past-self nestled on the tabletop as she stared at herself, as if thinking of what she was before... though it was gone forever.

Her once-cherished face was ravaged. Wrinkled in unnatural folds, sagging like ancient parchment, a hideous contrast to the body she had maintained with ruthless discipline. Even makeup could do nothing much for it. It was a mockery.

’That witch is heartless!’ She had thought this several times, but what could she do about it? What hurt Clara the most was the fact that she had not even benefited from that beauty candy! Her useless daughter had, but she, the mother, had to pay the price.

’That witch is so blind! Did she not see who took the candy?’ Clara would lament day and night.

All her efforts had gone down the drain. She did not even have to try to know that no man would touch her now. No whispered praises, no covetous glances. Just pity at best, disgust at worst.

Clara had once promised herself she would never bow to that Aliya woman. She was that thief-the one who had tried to take her daughter’s husband, the one who had smiled sweetly even as she twisted the knife in the media. Everyone on T-Vino island knew of Aliya and was on her side. For once, Clara supported her daughter, Shelby, until that offer was made.

To Clara, Clara always came first. No matter how much she loved her children, Clara loved herself more, and this was not even a secret.

Because now, pride was a memory drowned by desperation.

Her hand reached for the phone, trembling as if every fibre of her being still fought the inevitable.

Despite her better judgment, the number had been sought and was already saved.

She pressed call.

The line barely rang once before it was picked up.

"I was wondering when you’d finally come to your senses," came Aliya’s voice even before Clara had said a word. Aliya’s voice was sweet as poisoned honey. Calm, expectant, triumphant.

She was not surprised, and this never occurred to Clara to find strange.

Aliya knew Clara’s type. She always knew that Clara would reach out, it was just a matter of time. This was for the simple reason that Aliya had planted those words like seeds, and now the harvest was ripe for reaping.

"I’m ready .... You said I could reach out... about ... about ...." Clara whispered, her voice a shadow of the pride it once carried.

A delighted hum vibrated through the phone. "Good. Meet me at the old chapel by the woods. Bring nothing but your desire and be ready to pay."

The line went dead.

Clara sat there for a long moment, clutching the phone against her chest, her breath shallow. Somewhere deep inside, a scream tried to rise, but it was swallowed by the cold, ruthless hunger for beauty. She had long forgotten the price she had paid for her first quest for beauty, because Aliya’s words did not shake her at all.

Outside, the night seemed to thicken, and the air tasted faintly of iron.

Still, Clara rose. She would go.

Because she already knew: Aliya wasn’t offering salvation. She was offering a bargain. And that night, she would pay. Whatever it would cost. Somewhere at the back of her mind, her excitement rose.

’I am going to be normal yet again!’

"Madam, where are we going?" Angela’s voice pierced her thoughts,

"We?" Clara paused,

"You and I are not going anywhere. I

am going somewhere, so stay back and look after the house."

"But-"

"When did I need a babysitter?" Clara snapped, took her purse and then walked out of the house.

’I hope she is not up to another sinister game....’ Angela lamented, knowing perfectly well that Ian was indisposed, Shelby was still missing, and Rocky was also unreachable. Whatever mess came out would be too. Much for her to handle. She silently prayed silently to herself as a taxi picked up Clara and drove off.

Clara had never been to that part of town before. It was a rundown old chapel that was like a skeleton against the night sky, its stone walls crumbling and its windows gaping like broken mouths.

She did not hesitate for one bit but pushed the rusty iron gate that groaned in the wind. She flinched.

She shivered as she pushed through further and through another set of crooked doors.

Inside, the air was colder, wetter, and it clung to her skin and crept into her bones. It was almost like the woods that she had traversed to see the Timeless Witch. The smell of damp earth and burnt incense filled her nostrils. Candles, black as pitch, burned along the cracked altar, their flames thin and shivering, casting monstrous shadows that danced on the walls.

Aliya stood there in the middle of all that. It had taken Clara about an hour’s drive to get here, and she had been about to call Aliya before her eyes landed on the younger woman.

Aliya was draped in dark, flowing fabrics that seemed to drink in the candlelight, her eyes gleaming with wicked anticipation. Her beauty was terrifying. It was too perfect, too untouched by the decay around her, but this was the kind of beauty that Clara sought.

"You came," Aliya said, smiling. She extended a hand, palm up. Something gleamed within it - a vial, filled with shimmering liquid that pulsed like a living heart.

"No refunds," she whispered sweetly. "Only results."

Aliya walked towards Clara and handed her the vial.

"But this is only proof that my medicine works. This will last you a night."

Behind Aliya, something unseen shifted in the darkness. It was a heavy presence that made the hairs on the back of Clara’s neck rise. But pride was long dead. Fear was nothing. She stepped forward in anticipation.

All other words left Clara. She did not hear a thing! Her anticipation was too great!

The vial was small, deceptively innocent in her palm. Clara could feel its faint heat seeping into her skin, as if it were alive and breathing. I was nothing like what the Timeless Witch had given her.

’If that witch had given me something like this, I wouldn’t have doubted her, and it would not have landed in Shelby’s hands.’

Clara hesitated for only a breath. Then, driven by desperation more than courage, she snatched it from Aliya’s hand.

Aliya’s smile widened — too wide, too knowing.

"Once you take it, you cannot back out of our deal. The conditions will reset in a night. However, bear in mind that you will have to take the permanent potion in at least two months, or you will not be able to take the repercussions."

Aliya tilted her head, seeing that Clara was barely listening. She was excited beyond measure. However, this was exactly what Aliya liked. She had hooked Clara without trying.

"You must drink it under the crescent moon," she instructed, voice silky. "You’re in luck as the crescent moon is out tonight and now ... Y - "

"And then my face will be restored?" Clara asked, clutching the vial tightly, hope and fear battling in her chest.

Aliya tilted her head, as if considering her like a child considering an insect.

"Yes. Your beauty will return, but temporarily... You need the second dose before the two-month mark is up, and that will be the permanent fix."

Clara hesitated finally and then, tightening her hands around the vial, as if afraid that Aliya would take it away, she asked,

".... and the price?" Clara pressed, faint suspicion finally curling in her gut.

Aliya laughed softly — a sound like velvet sliding across a blade.

Aliya looked at the desperate woman, mockingly. She had not even bothered to ask how Aliya knew of her condition and how she thought to help.... One could see the greediness shining in her eyes, telling Aliya that this Clara woman would go ahead notwithstanding the price.

’Not my turn to worry, I have already laid down all the details and warnings.... It’s up to her to take the path!’ Aliya thought,

"Just your son..."

"What?!"

Clara stumbled back, looking at Aliya like she was a monster of a sort.

"My son? My s-on.... what do you want with my son?!"

"Chill woman! I need to see him to confirm something, and he is doing a good job of hiding from me."

Clara frowned....

Aliya’s smile broadened as she saw Clara’s indecision. The woman had not outright rejected her. She was right!

Clara raised her head, as if coming to a decision.

*********

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