Missax - Do This For Me 〈EXTENDED ✭〉

“Do this for me.”

She had opened it. She had not screamed. But she had seen the dried herbs hung upside down, the circle of salt on the floor, and the mirror covered in black cloth. And she had said nothing. missax - do this for me

Elara should have run. Any sensible person would have. But she had been chosen, shaped, prepared for this moment across years of strange requests and midnight trials. Missax had not been training a servant. She had been crafting a vessel. “Do this for me

Elara’s throat tightened. She had never been able to refuse. Not when Missax asked her to sit for portraits for hours until her neck ached. Not when she asked her to read aloud from crumbling Latin texts she didn’t understand. Not even the night Missax had placed a cold, antique key in her palm and whispered, “Open the door to the east tower, and do not scream.” And she had said nothing

Missax’s lips curved—not a smile, but something close to relief. “I become part of the walls. The earth. The memory of the house. You will hear me in the creak of the stairs, see me in the fog over the lake. I will not be gone. I will be everywhere .”