'I can't escape…' Marilyn Thornhill sat at the café table while nervously sipping her coffee.
'Someone is coming, their footsteps are imperceptible; if they weren't so close I wouldn't hear them…' Marilyn could feel that presence because it was behind her.
'Did the hunters discover me? No, not the rudimentary ones, it must be a mistake…'
Jonathan stopped right behind Marilyn, tapped the floor three times with his sword before walking in front of the woman sitting silently.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
"Well, this is the end." Jonathan searched for a seat he could sit in and placed his sword across his left leg.
He knew perfectly well that seated his speed to draw a weapon and shoot would decrease; that led him to the decision to use his sword if necessary.
Jonathan, like a true gentleman, smiled and said: "You look worse than you should, what a mess—you are the woman who controlled the game and now you tremble as if you were frightened."
"My manners, how dreadful, I am so sorry, my name is Jonathan Belmont and when a Belmont speaks to you, you must look him in the eyes."
Crack!
The loud strike on the table startled Marilyn, but made Wednesday in the distance enjoy the scene. "I suggest torturing him if he doesn't talk; ripping off a few fingers will work with her."
"No, don't scare the teacher… I didn't come to kill her immediately or we wouldn't be having this conversation. You don't deserve to die yet, even if you have committed many crimes."
From Marilyn's understanding, these crimes would be death sentences; if she hasn't been attacked yet it is only because Jonathan has doubts or is simply waiting for the most opportune moment.
"Whatever you've done before matters, but not now. I want to know if you're involved with the dark network. Who told you how to control Tyler?"
Jonathan paused and said: "At least answer, that way we'll kill those involved in your plans."
"I won't speak…"
"I would like to kill you, don't give me reasons." With these words Jonathan was only playing with Marilyn's patience, who was surely thinking of the way to order Tyler to attack.
But with so many hunters it would be impossible for her even to harm Jonathan, who would react first.
"You are an intelligent woman; I think you know what is good for you."
"You know nothing…" Marilyn whispered as she cried. She was terrified, not because her chances were over, but because Jonathan's eyes were as dark as space and that terrified her.
"Speak now or…" Wednesday, who wanted to participate, held Marilyn's purse, but before she could do anything she lifted her head upward and her senses were eclipsed by a vision.
As soon as Wednesday's fingers brushed the edge of Marilyn's purse, an icy torrent ran through her veins. Her breath was cut off and darkness pulled her, like falling into an endless abyss.
Suddenly, the café transformed into a fog-wrapped forest. The air smelled of damp earth and dead leaves. Between the trees appeared Marilyn, her smile too wide to be human, her gaze loaded with a feigned sweetness that shattered like glass. The woman was not alone. Before her stood a man of indistinct silhouette, as if shadows themselves had woven him. His voice did not come from his mouth but resonated in the air like a distant echo:
"The keys are the true inheritance…" murmured the man, fearful of being heard, and he said: "Each one guards a hidden power, and the most important… sleeps in the foundations of Nevermore."
Marilyn nodded, bowing her head like a devotee before her dark deity. Her lips formed words Wednesday could not hear clearly, but she understood the meaning: conspiracy, betrayal, destiny.
The roots of the forest began to writhe beneath her feet, as if trying to trap her. Among the twisted trunks, metallic flashes appeared: black keys, silver keys, keys bathed in a reddish sheen that looked like blood. All floated in the air, surrounding the woman and the strange man.
Then the man's eyes—two vacant spheres glowing like dead moons—turned toward Wednesday. Although she knew she should not be visible in the vision, she felt that he could see her.
"The crow must choose," said the figure, his voice a knife in her mind. "Open the door… or seal his own end."
The ground split with a roar, and the last thing Wednesday saw before the vision dissolved into shadows was Marilyn placing a golden key into the pocket of her robe, with an expression that was no longer that of a teacher but of an executioner.
Wednesday snapped her eyes open, her heart pounding as if trying to burst from her chest. This time there was no doubt: Marilyn hid more than secrets… and Nevermore was at the center of it all.
"Wake up, I'm here and no dark power will trap you." Jonathan's words dispelled all stiffness in Wednesday, and he asked, "Do you have anything important?"
"Yes, I heard about the keys; that man, Joseph Crackstone, spoke to her about the keys and said they were more important." Wednesday said as she still caught her breath.
And Marilyn, when she heard this, sprang to her feet and shouted: "I should have killed you."
Bang.
But the next moment, Jonathan, who knew what needed to be killed, killed Merilyn and whispered: "Wish to summon a dead, ultimate sentence, death."
Wednesday looked at her teacher's corpse with indifference and whispered: "Don't look at everything."
"But if enough is seen, the rest doesn't matter. Besides, she controlled the Hyde so she was dangerous."