It was two in the morning as Victor was crossing the Wishborne River, which bordered New Hampshire and Maine. Darkness had spread all around. A deep silence enveloped the Wishborne River, and dark clouds hovered above, threatening to burst into rain any moment. The river's water came up to Victor's knees, flowing slowly. In one hand, Victor held his bicycle, in the other his phone, using its flashlight to find his way as he waded through the cold water. Suddenly, his phone rang.
Answering, Victor said, "Yes, Vanessa, tell me."
A woman's voice came from the phone, "How far have you reached, honey?"
"I've reached the Wishborne River, Vanessa, just crossing it, then I'll be right with you."
Hearing the river's name, Vanessa replied in panic, "What? You're crossing the Wishborne River now?!"
"What else? You know there's only this one route from Willowknoll to Redgrove. And the only way is across the river."
"You shouldn't have come back this late. You should have stayed at the Grovehill Lodge for the night! You know she roams near the river."
Surprised, Victor asked, "She? Who?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't pretend. Mom told me never to say her name while crossing the river, or she'll really come..."
"Vanessa, you too now, all these tales of Elysira... Mom's been getting to you too. There's no such thing as Elysira—"
Before he could finish, Vanessa interrupted, scared, "Shhh! Keep quiet! Oh dear Lord, please protect my husband and forgive him if he has unknowingly made some mistake. He'll never utter her name again."
Victor laughed, "Vanessa, there's no such thing as Elysira, you see? These are just superstitions made up by the townsfolk."
"You can deny it if you want, but I believe it. Just please, come home soon!"
"Yes, Vanessa, I'm coming, just let me get across the river first."
"Alright, I'll hang up now."
"Wait, wait... don't you think you're forgetting something?"
"Me? What am I forgetting?"
"You managed to remember Elysira, but you forgot that today is our wedding anniversary."
"Oops, I'm sorry—was so worried about you I completely forgot."
Victor, pouting, said, "You forgot, so now you'll have to be punished, get ready for it."
Vanessa lovingly asked, "Oh? And what will my punishment be?"
"Your punishment is that you'll have to stay awake all night."
Vanessa blushed and replied, "You and your jokes..."
"If I can't tease my wife, who can I tease?"
"Alright, come soon, I'm waiting for you."
Vanessa ended the call, and Victor continued crossing the river. He'd hardly taken a few steps when he heard the tinkling of anklets. It sounded as if a girl had just run past him.
Victor stopped in his tracks. He looked behind him, but saw nothing except the darkness—no one was there.
"Vanessa's nonsense about Elysira is getting to me. Now my own mind is playing tricks... Still, they do say she's beautiful. I'd love to meet this Elysira herself."
Saying this, Victor pressed on. He'd barely stepped forward again when he saw a dark silhouette by the riverbank. Victor froze. The figure stood as if waiting only for him. From that shadow came both the sound of anklets and the scent of jasmine flowers. Victor's hands and feet began to tremble.
Shivering, he whispered, "Could Vanessa have been right? Is that... Elysira?"
Victor's face was drenched in sweat, his heart pounding, fear taking a firm hold.
He called, "Who... who is there?"
No answer. Only silence.
Victor pointed his phone's beam at the figure. In its glow, Victor saw that the shadow was not just a silhouette, but a woman.
There, on the riverbank, stood a beautiful young woman, about twenty-four years old, five feet two inches tall. She had a long neck, pink lips, and her black hair fell loose to her waist. Her fair body was draped in a black dress. She seemed like some enchantress, so beautiful that any man losing himself in her embrace would be understandable.
She gestured to Victor to come closer. Forgetting every story about Elysira, Victor left his bicycle and rushed like a moth to a flame.
Nearing her, Victor asked softly, "Who are you? What are you doing here? What's your name?"
The woman smiled, replying, "What's in a name? It's what you do that matters."
"What do you mean?"
Looking deep into Victor's eyes, she whispered, "The same thing you wanted to do with your wife—you wanted to keep her awake tonight, didn't you? Won't you try to keep me awake?"
There was a strange intoxication in her eyes. Victor felt himself falling under her spell.
Staring into her eyes, Victor replied, "Of course. Not just tonight, I'll keep you awake tomorrow, the next day, forever..."
No sooner had he finished, Victor pulled her nearer, and in the next moment both were lying upon the sand of the riverbank, entangled and unclothed. The scent of jasmine wafted from her skin. She was beneath him, Victor atop. Victor's sweat was a mark of his exhaustion, his strength fading, but she showed no sign of weariness—her thirst seemed eternal.
As Victor was reaching the height of passion, his eyes fell upon her breasts, and he saw wrinkles begin to form there. The veins on her arms and legs bulged, her hair turning from black to white. Before his eyes, the woman transformed into an old crone. Shock froze Victor where he lay. The warmth of his body vanished.
Quaking, Victor stuttered, "Who... who are you?!"
The woman gently answered, "I am Elysira... your death."
Victor's hair stood on end. He tried to scramble away but Elysira seized him with both hands and laughed, "Where are you running off to, my darling? I'm not satisfied yet—you promised you'd keep me awake forever, did you tire so soon, or is it my true face that frightens you? Ha ha ha!"
Victor, confronted with her monstrous face, was struck dumb with terror. He saw his own death in her eyes.
Enraged, Elysira shouted, "Driven by your lust, you forgot your wife, Vanessa, waiting for you at home, while you're here with me. Men like you can never truly love a woman. Your desire never ends."
Saying this, Elysira placed a hand on Victor's chest. Her long, black nails were as sharp as knives.
"No, please don't... let me go," Victor begged.
"I am letting you go, my sweet... my sweet..."
With that, Elysira thrust her hand deep into Victor's chest. Thunder cracked and rain began to pour as the blood from Victor's body drained through Elysira's nails into her veins. As it went, she became young and beautiful once more. Victor's body shriveled and turned white, not a drop of blood remained—but his heart still beat.
Elysira leaned to Victor's ear and whispered, "Sleep well... sleep well..."
Withdrawing her blood-stained hand from his chest, Victor finally died, for in Elysira's grasp was his shriveled heart. In an instant, Elysira vanished, just like raindrops fizzled into the ground.
The clacking of typewriter keys echoed: tap-tap, tap-tap.
A man in a suit sat in a closed room, working at a white typewriter. He wore thick round glasses. Shelves lined the room, packed with over a thousand books. On the table lay an ashtray holding half-smoked cigarettes and ashes.
The writer spoke to himself, "Well, that's the end of this part. In the next, Vanessa will avenge her husband's death, uncover Elysira's curse, and seek her redemption... The readers will be heartbroken over Victor's death, but what can I do? Horrors must have their deaths to move ahead."
Lighting a cigarette, the writer dialed a number on his phone.
From the phone, a sleepy voice answered, "Hello? Who is this?"
"Hello, Jack, just letting you know the story's done."
"Oh, it's you, sir. That's great news... but, pardon my saying so, couldn't this wait till morning?"
Drawing from his cigarette, the writer said, "What do you mean, it's so late? It's only—"
He glanced at his old wristwatch and realized it was 3:05 a.m.
"Whoa, it's three already? I didn't even notice—thought it must be nine or ten."
"No worries, sir, you get so engrossed in your writing you lose track of time."
"That's true. Wait till this book comes out—people will have chills reading it. I've spent many sleepless nights on it."
"No doubt, sir. Your stories are so lively, they could wake the dead and make even corpses eager to listen. So, what's this one called?"
"It's called Elysira... a Witch."
There was a shocked silence from the phone. "What did you say? Elysira?"
"Yes, Elysira. What's got you so spooked?"
"Sir, I heard that Elysira roams the real Wishborne River near your own hometown, and... well, she does those things with men—then kills them!"
"So?"
"Aren't you scared, sir? Writing her story, living in the same area where she's said to haunt, what if Elysira comes for you?"
"Jack, Elysira is not as evil as people think."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean Elysiras can be wonderful—so wonderful they'd sacrifice anything for others' happiness. But sometimes, events occur that turn life upside down."
"What sort of event, sir? I don't understand."
"According to ancient beliefs, our universe has many realms—the gods, the angels, the demons, all inhabit other worlds. These worlds exist at different distances from earth. It's said the God Realm is highest, and the lowest is home to Elysirs, Elysiras, and nymphs, closest to earth. The deities of that realm answer prayers faster than any others."
Jack interrupted, "Why, sir? Why do gods from that realm answer so quickly?"
"Because by practicing a mantra with discipline and at the correct time, one's prayers reach them more quickly. One Elysira from that world descended to earth at the end of the god age and was cursed. A curse that changed her life forever."
"What curse, sir? Who cursed her?"
An Elysira, descended from another realm, received a curse here on earth. What was that curse, and who gave it to her? To know more, stay tuned for the next Chapter of Elysira... a Witch.