The question remained suspended in the heavy, freezing air. Evangeline locked her gaze onto the crimson eyes of her bridal self, her jaw tightening.
"Not yet..." she replied, her voice an impenetrable wall of steel.
The bride began to move, pacing around her in slow, rhythmic circles, the silk of her white gown rustling against the dark void. "Not yet? Then when, Eva? When...? When...? When...?"
The word began to repeat itself, distorting into a hollow, endless echo. With each repetition, the bride's form grew fainter, her footsteps fading into nothingness until she evaporated entirely into the black mist. All that remained was her delicate white veil, fluttering downward to settle flat against the pitch-black floor.
Evangeline walked over, bending down to pick up the lace fabric. She scrutinized it with a hard, calculated stare. "Ha... it seems this place is trying to play tricks on my mind."
