Chapter 103 Attending Her Own Memorial Service
George took a deep breath of the fresh air, and his mind cleared up right away.
He figured this spot would be perfect for the memorial service. Emma would have loved the beautiful scenery here.
George pictured Emma, like a playful deer, running into his arms in this lovely park. A small smile crept onto his face.
"Isabella, I've got a special place to show you. Trust me, it's not something most people have done."
"What place?"
"You'll see when we get there. I'll take you."
"Then I'll bring Seraphine along."
"No, it's not a place for kids."
Isabella Taylor frowned. "You're not dragging me to a bar to find strippers, are you?"
She remembered three years ago when she and her partner started the "Miss Lady" brand. Her partner was always dragging her to bars to find strippers. Isabella had met quite a few strippers back then.
Her partner dropped her off at a funeral home on the edge of town and then drove off.
Isabella was puzzled. Why on earth would she need to be at a funeral home?
But her partner never did things without a reason.
There had to be something special about this funeral home today.
The place was open to the public. She walked in and saw a sign and a table at the entrance of the main hall.
On the table was a photo of the deceased, surrounded by flowers and candles, giving off a faint scent. Pretty standard for a funeral home. What wasn't standard was that the photo was of Emma.
Isabella got it right away. No wonder her partner said most people wouldn't have this experience. She was attending her own memorial service.
Since she was here, she figured she might as well check it out. To avoid being recognized, Emma put on a pair of oversized sunglasses.
There weren't many people at the service, mostly folks in suits who looked like George's business partners. They were probably there to support George.
None of them looked particularly sad. And as for Emma's friends, not a single one showed up.
Made sense. Those people hated Emma.
George must've lost his mind to hold such a weird memorial service.
Emma wandered down the path to the back garden. At a corner, she spotted a rundown, almost collapsing wooden cabin.
She stopped because she heard Anna's voice coming from inside. A voice she'd never forget, even in death.
What a small world. Just back in town and already bumping into Anna?
Emma quietly hid in the bushes outside the cabin. She pressed her ear against the wall, trying to catch what was being said inside.
"Can you really do it?" Anna's uneasy voice came through the cracks. Her tone had a hint of malice, like she was excited about some twisted plan.
"Of course," a deep, raspy voice replied. "As long as you're willing to pay the price, I can make Emma's soul suffer too."
Emma's heart skipped a beat. Even in death, Anna wouldn't let her go. Maybe this was the real reason George held the memorial service.
"Name your price," Anna's voice was still dripping with venom.
She was filled with hatred and jealousy towards Emma, wanting to completely eliminate this obstacle.
"Very well," the sorcerer Marcus Graham sneered.
Then came the sound of something heavy hitting the ground. Anna had thrown a bag full of cash on the floor.
Marcus unzipped the bag, glanced at the crisp bills, and nodded in satisfaction.
"Today is the third anniversary of Emma's death, a perfect time to curse her. Once I complete the curse, she will never appear in anyone's dreams again," Marcus promised sinisterly, weaving a beautiful lie for Anna.
"Good, I'll be watching," Anna said before leaving.
They were planning to curse her soul during this time.
'George, do you really hate me that much?' Emma thought to herself.
Emma hid in Anna's blind spot, so Anna didn't notice her. But Emma did feel an urge to jump out to scare Anna to death.
Emma smiled as she watched Anna's departing figure, her eyes devoid of any warmth.
'Anna, I'm not dead. From now on, it's you who will die. Let's see if you can be as lucky as I am,' Emma thought.
Emma slowly turned her gaze back to the cabin.
In a dim corner, Marcus lit several black candles. The flickering candlelight illuminated his sinister face.
The surrounding air instantly became heavy and cold. He held an ancient staff in his hand, covered in intricate runes that emitted a faint dark glow.
He slowly walked to the table, where a photo of Emma was placed. In the photo, Emma smiled innocently, watching everything unfold. Marcus smiled virulently, feeling secretly pleased.
"Let's begin," Marcus muttered.
He raised the staff high, his lips trembling slightly to chant ancient and eerie incantations. Each syllable sounded like low thunder, echoing off the cabin walls.
As the incantation continued, the surrounding air began to distort. Black smoke rose from the candle flames, slowly gathering around him.
In the smoke, countless twisted faces seemed to wail and struggle, emitting mournful cries that sent chills down the spine.
The photo on the table began to tremble slightly.
Marcus's fingers traced intricate symbols in the air, causing the black smoke to thicken and gradually form a swirling vortex.
"Dark forces, devour her soul!" Marcus's voice was filled with fervor, as if making a pact with the dark forces.
At that moment, the photo on the table suddenly flickered with a faint light, resisting Marcus's curse.
Marcus felt unease in his heart, but he didn't stop chanting. Instead, he chanted even more forcefully, trying to draw more power from the dark forces.
Suddenly, Emma's photo tore in half, and Marcus spat a mouthful of blood onto it.
Marcus made an "OK" gesture to the camera in the corner. He was the highest-paid sorcerer abroad. Once he cast a curse, no soul could escape his grasp.
But Emma began to doubt. He must be a fraud. Otherwise, he should know she was still alive.
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