Chapter 68: Angela in the Special Room

Angela's breaths came in rapid, shallow bursts as she surveyed the pink room's unsettling duplication. It was as if the room from above had been recreated below, yet the circumstances and purpose behind this eerie replication remained a haunting mystery. The sight of bloodstains on the floor sent shivers down her spine. Whose blood was it? Angela's mind raced, her thoughts filled with unease.

Amidst the room's uncanny familiarity, Angela's attention was drawn to an oddity—a pink chair affixed with a chain, nestled in a corner. It resembled an electric chair, complete with a leather body strap hanging at the side. The sinister implications of the chair struck her like a blow, causing her to recoil as if the object itself was a source of malevolence.

Outside the room, a stumbling noise echoed, followed by rapid footsteps that grew louder and closer. Angela's heart raced as she instinctively sought refuge in the back corner of the cupboard. The noise grew as the steps approached, and then the room was filled with Mrs. Vera's frantic screams for help.

Angela's heart pounded in her chest as she listened, her mind racing to comprehend the situation. She knew she couldn't remain hidden, not when Mrs. Vera was in danger. Summoning her courage, Angela burst out of the cupboard, propelled by her determination to find and aid Mrs. Vera.

The room seemed to darken as Angela dashed through the hallway, following the desperate cries. But abruptly, the screams were silenced, leaving an eerie void in the air. Angela's determination only grew stronger, fueled by the urgency of the situation. Mrs. Vera's voice had conveyed immense pain and fear, and Angela wouldn't rest until she found her, no matter the horrors that awaited her in the mansion's depths.

***
Mrs. Vera in the verge of death
Mrs. Vera found herself dragged to a rough patch of ground by the enigmatic woman in a wedding gown, a figure so stark against the light that it seemed to emanate from her. Immobilized by an aura of ruthlessness, the lady in white loomed over Mrs. Vera, a harbinger of dread.
Confusion mingled with fear as Mrs. Vera mustered the courage to speak. "Who are you?" Her voice trembled. "What do you want with me? I've never wronged you."
The woman in white broke her silence, her voice finally piercing the air. "You allowed your husband to commit vile deeds within this house," she accused, and her words struck recognition in Mrs. Vera’s heart.
"Mrs. Gale?" Mrs. Vera's voice wavered as she identified the figure. "Is that you?"
"The men who've perpetrated evil under this roof must face consequences," the lady in white's tone remained unforgiving. "Justice must be served."
Overwhelmed by the revelation, Mrs. Vera grappled with the enormity of the situation. "Mrs. Gale, I don't understand. What is all this?"
"In my eyes, your husband was no different from mine—a faithless and wicked man," Mrs. Gale's words dripped with scorn. "And so, he met the fate he deserved."
Mrs. Vera's voice quivered as she inquired, "You poisoned him? You killed my husband?"
"I couldn't allow him to continue his wicked ways, to betray you," Mrs. Gale's anger was palpable. "He wronged you, just as my husband wronged me."
Trembling with a mixture of fear and disbelief, Mrs. Vera questioned, "Who are you? You can't be the same Atella Gale I knew."
But the woman seemed possessed by a malevolent spirit, her voice taking on a deep, unsettling tone. "Atella Gale's essence is now intertwined with mine," she proclaimed in an eerie voice. "Your husband was no different from the unfaithful man I once called mine, and so he too had to be eradicated."
Mrs. Vera's voice shook with fear as she ventured further, "And Esmeralda? You said you wanted to protect her. Why did she have to die?"
"I didn't intend to push her off the veranda," Mrs. Gale paced back and forth, a portrait of conflicted emotions. "But her foolishness led to her demise. She welcomed your husband into her life, wreaking vengeance on your son."
Every dark secret within the mansion seemed to spill from Mrs. Gale's lips. "She started innocently but gradually accepted your husband's vile advances every time they were here," she spoke, her tone hardening. "And Lara, the thief who stole boyfriends, she too deserved punishment.”
Desperation etched Mrs. Vera's voice. "Tell me, Atella. Did you kill Esmeralda?"

"Yes, I did," Mrs. Gale's response was unwavering, her words a chilling admission. "I had to prevent her from tainting her soul further. All sinners within this house must be purged."
Mrs. Vera's voice quivered with a mixture of terror and sorrow. "You're deranged."
"This house was meant for me," Mrs. Gale's words dripped with resentment. "Carlos promised love everlasting, but he betrayed me. He shattered my heart and left me no recourse but to end his life."
The revelations were like blows to Mrs. Vera's understanding of reality, a tapestry of darkness woven into the fabric of the mansion she had once called home.
"Then your husband emerged, mirroring the wretchedness of mine. He awakened the malevolence entrenched within this house, and for that, he deserved death," Mrs. Gale's confession was a horrifying revelation to Mrs. Vera.

Amidst the darkness and horror, a chilling command fell from Mrs. Gale's lips. "You must forgive me, Madam," she pleaded, shedding the wedding gown to reveal a black suit and pants. "Please, put this on."

Mrs. Vera's incredulous response was immediate. "What?"

"Don the wedding gown for the final time," Mrs. Gale's tone carried an eerie intensity. "It's your destiny."

Mrs. Vera's face flushed with a mix of disbelief and fear. "Are you out of your mind?"

In an instant, Mrs. Gale's demeanor shifted, her voice rising to a sharp, threatening tone. "Wear it, or I'll slit your throat!"

Bound by terror and the instinct to survive, Mrs. Vera complied, slipping into the wedding gown as instructed. With her hands tied and mouth gagged, she stood helplessly, a puppet under Mrs. Gale's sinister control.

As they traversed the tunnel's labyrinthine path, Angela appeared ahead, her voice a cry of concern. "Mrs. Vera?"

Suddenly, an unexpected change gripped Mrs. Gale. Fear welled up in her, and her tone shifted to one of anxiety. "Angela, Mrs. Vera is the lady in white. She murdered her husband and Esmeralda. I've captured her."

Conflicting emotions churned within Angela as she grappled with the shocking revelation. Uncertain of whom to trust, she spoke cautiously. "Let her speak, Mrs. Gale."

"No!" Mrs. Gale's rage surged, a torrent of anger directed at Mrs. Vera. "She killed Andrew and the guard. And now she desires to take your life! She must face justice." The anger in her voice was palpable as she struck Mrs. Vera, sending her crumpling to the ground.

Angela's distress deepened as she watched the scene unfold, torn between disbelief and the desire to help Mrs. Vera. But Mrs. Gale's forceful intervention stopped her. "Stay where you are, Angela," the servant commanded.

Desperation and anger intertwined in Mrs. Gale's words. "Do not interfere with me punishing this wicked soul. She's no true master—she betrayed her son and Esmeralda, allowing her husband's sins to unfold. Now she aims to end your life to sever your connection to Leonardo," Mrs. Gale's words were chaotic, a blend of desperation and anger. "Mrs. Vera is the embodiment of deceit." Her voice crackled like a storm, a tumultuous tirade of accusations and fury.
Angela was caught off guard by the staggering revelation. Her mind raced as she absorbed the shocking truth of Mrs. Vera's alleged actions. Her heart ached for the woman on the floor, struggling to comprehend the accusations against her.

"Let her speak, Mrs. Gale," Angela's voice was firm, demanding fairness and truth. "I want to hear her side of the story. Don't treat her like an animal. She deserves to be heard, just as you do."

Mrs. Gale's response was a mixture of anger and nervousness, her trembling hand clutching the pilfered ice pick. "She facilitated her husband's sinister desires by exploiting younger women. He was the embodiment of my husband's malevolence."

Angela noted Mrs. Gale's erratic behavior, her gaze flickering with an unfamiliar and vacant expression. It sent a shiver down her spine. The accusations against Mrs. Vera seemed disjointed from her words as if spoken by a different personality altogether. "Please, Mrs. Gale, release her mouth," Angela urged her own emotions in turmoil. "I want to hear her perspective."

"Didn't you believe me?" Mrs. Gale's irritation flared, her facade of friendliness cracking. "I've stood by you and assisted you whenever you needed help. And now you disregard everything I've done for you?"

"What did you do?" Angela questioned firmly, skeptical of Mrs. Gale's claims. "I'm not aware of any good deeds you've done for me."

"For you, I killed Andrew!" Mrs. Gale's outburst betrayed her, a slip of truth she instantly regretted. Her demeanor shifted, her voice softening into a different character as if embodying another person entirely. "Angela, I genuinely care for you," she began her monologue with a somber tone. "You've shown kindness to me since the moment you arrived. I admired how you managed Leonardo's temper, and you've been a skilled nurse. But Andrew's presence brought you trouble," she winced, "He is the reincarnation of Fredrick, and he must pay for disturbing your life."

"So, you're the murderer, not Mrs. Vera," Angela snapped back, her hand gripping the knife tighter as she took a step backward, her back against the wall.

Mrs. Gale mirrored her movement, advancing with a similar silhouette. A mix of emotions coursed through her, and she addressed Angela in a softer tone, tinged with an apology. "I liked you from the moment I saw you, Angela. But you seem ungrateful for the favors I've done for you," her voice took on an edge as she moved closer. Angela's mind raced for a way out, but she felt cornered.

As their confrontation escalated, Mrs. Gale's words turned chilling. "I'm sorry, Angela, but I have to kill you."