"So, are we shooting the movie with that yellow-eyed monster?" Charlize asked, falling in step beside Christian as they made their way back to the rest of the crew.
"Not quite," Christian muttered, shifting the unconscious weight of Annika in his arms.
"He won't show up in the actual movie."
"Right. So, on top of dealing with rumors, now I have to worry about random monster ambushes on set. Wonderful." Charlize's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Feeling overwhelmed?" he asked, glancing sideways.
"Can I scream?"
"No," Christian said flatly.
"Instead of throwing a tantrum, how about explaining what happened with Alexis?"
Charlize hesitated, her mouth half-open.
"You did what I told you, right? Broke the bottle—the one with the ants and her photo at the crossroads?" he asked.
She looked away. "No."
"Why not?"
There was a sharp edge beneath his calm tone—enough to make Charlize flinch.
After a pause, she spoke.
"I wanted to learn from her acting. From the dreams."
Christian raised an eyebrow, caught off guard.
That hadn't been on his radar.
He'd suspected something was off when he realized Alexis hadn't detached from Charlize.
He figured Charlize had grown obsessed with the dream-state, maybe even addicted.
But this was deeper.
"You're using her to learn acting?" he asked.
Charlize nodded. "Yes. I was going to break the bottle like you said. But in the dream... Alexis was incredible. I saw it—how she moved, spoke, held the room without trying. I can't match that in the real world, not by practicing lines in front of a mirror. But in the dream, I can feel what it's like. It's real there."
Christian ran a hand through his hair and muttered, "You've completely lost it."
Then he sighed. "Well, it's too late now."
"What do you mean?"
"She's been attached too long. Breaking the bottle won't cut it anymore. Alexis isn't just haunting you. She's a part of you now—mind and body."
Charlize blinked. "Wait... what?"
"She's in your subconscious," he said.
"Your thoughts, your instincts. She's blended in. Isn't that right, Alexis?"
He tapped Charlize gently on the forehead. She recoiled, startled.
"What the hell was that?" she asked, rubbing the spot.
"How did you—how do you do that?" she added, eyeing him like he might sprout horns.
"Relax. I'm not the monster here," he said, letting Annika down gently.
She was still out cold. He leaned against a crate, finally catching his breath.
"When Sally was being controlled by that spirit, it was you who snapped her out of it," Christian said, looking at Charlize.
"That's when I knew you weren't dangerous anymore. She didn't break the bottle, sure, but in the dream... You made peace. And that mattered."
"I did," said a voice—Alexis's voice, coming through Charlize's lips, softer than usual.
"Sally gave me something good, even if it was just a dream. I should've let go then, but... I felt her desire. To be better. So I stayed. I'm not sure if that was right."
Christian didn't even blink.
"It wasn't your call. Spirits like you don't get to make choices. You're an echo, not a person. You only think clearly when you're inside someone. And that means they influence you as much as you influence them."
Alexis fell quiet for a beat. Then, slowly: "You had Sally trick me. You told her to seal me. That was your plan."
"Guilty," Christian said with a shrug.
"But you're blaming the wrong guy."
He folded his arms and studied Charlize.
"Maybe you really do care about her. Or maybe it's just her mind bleeding into yours. You can't help but care because she does."
There was no reply—just the quiet weight of shared memory, unspoken grief, and tangled minds.
"Trying to provoke something between us?" Alexis asked, her voice cool but searching.
She wasn't slow—she'd picked up on what Christian was saying. He just waved a hand.
"Don't read too much into it," he said.
"When Sally asked you to stay, when she wanted you to help her, you couldn't say no. Not to her. It was like a prayer answered. That changed everything between you."
Alexis narrowed her eyes.
"You mean...?"
"You're part of her," Christian replied.
"Fully embedded. You think with her mind, feel through her. You act for her, sometimes as her. And you carry memories that aren't even hers. You're not just a ghost anymore. You're a second personality living inside her."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"It's dissociative by any clinical standard. But I'm not a shrink," Christian added.
"Not my job to fix it. For now, what matters is that you're stable and not trying to tear her apart from the inside. That's good enough."
There were ways he could influence their mental balance—thanks to the binding charm he'd wrangled Alexis into months ago.
However, forcing anything now might exacerbate the cracks. And time wasn't on their side.
Something worse was coming.
"Alexis. Sally. I know you're both listening," he said, his tone sharpening.
"You've reached some kind of... détente. That's fine. But if we can't handle the yellow-eyed monster—Wrath Tiger—then this entire production, and maybe a lot more, goes up in flames. So I need both of you. Together."
Alexis chuckled darkly. "If this film crashes and burns, your problems will be far worse than a pissed-off spirit."
Then, softer: "Sally wanted me to say that."
Christian cracked a dry smile.
"Nice to see you two bonding."
He pushed forward. "Next scene, I need something... different. Sally will still play the heroine, like planned. But Alexis, you'll piggyback. Think of it as a layered performance. A second presence, haunting the same frame."
"So we're filming 'The Fifth Sally' now?" Alexis asked with a sly grin.
(T/N: Fifth Sally- a novel about a woman with four personalities.)
"Or is this your homage to 'Vertigo'?"
(T/N: Vertigo- Movie by Alfred Hitchcock)
Christian raised an eyebrow.
"Why not both? Hitchcock had style. And I need that tension—the pressure of the split."
He stepped closer, eyes steady on Charlize.
"When you two switch, when the lines blur—that's where the real power is. Alexis isn't just a passenger. The transitions leave traces. Imprints. I've already set the stage with layered enchantments. If we do it right, we can trap the Wrath's essence in the final cut."
Alexis tilted her head.
"You're using film as a containment spell?"
"More like a ritual performance," he replied.
"The Wrath Tiger agreed to my terms—barely. He doesn't care if we borrow some of his power. To him, it's beneath notice."
He paused, voice low. "But once the film's done... once it's released... that's when we strike."
"Strike?" Alexis echoed.
Christian's voice was calm. Cold.
"We'll use the film's release to bind him. Anchor him. And then we end him. For good."