The Sherry in Shadow

Chapter 7: The Cure

Sherry was not sleeping; she couldn't. She had to maintain a steady control over Chameleon to keep up her disguise. So, she played the part of the sleeping damsel, ever since they had hauled her from the carriage. She was, however, undeniably weary, her energy reserves sapped from the earlier skirmish. The soft couch beneath her, much nicer than the wood and wire mesh of her previous captivity, further tempted her lie to transcend as truth. The adrenaline of coming face to face with her lifelong foes was the only thing keeping her awake.

She was also listening to the conversation between Epsilon and the Numbers that "rescued" her. Despite the discomfort of reliving her botched antacid plan through their bizarre, dysfunctional exchange, it confirmed a few things: Firstly, that Silon, the world-famous pianist, was actually a Shadow Garden member, and a high-ranking one at that. In fact, Silon was Epsilon, aka. one of the Seven Shades, which were part of the top brass serving directly underneath Shadow. This revelation almost made her laugh. Secondly, she has fully convinced them that she's a victim of demonic possession. A villainous smirk crept across Sherry's face.

"Hey, are you awake?" Epsilon's voice suddenly pierced through her thoughts, her hand lightly touching Sherry's non-deformed shoulder. Sherry stifled a gasp, managing to maintain a faux grogginess.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're safe now," Epsilon reassured her. Sherry slowly sat up. Clearly it was time to 'wake up'.

"Where am I?" Sherry performed her confusion flawlessly, adhering to the script she had rehearsed in her mind time and time again.

"You're someplace safe. We rescued you from those bandits," Epsilon explained, "They were going to sell you to the Cult of Diablos."

"Rescued?" Sherry had to muster all her self-control to keep her indignation from bubbling to the surface. "I mean... the Cult of Diablos? I don't understand."

"Let's talk about that after you're cured, okay?" Epsilon continued.

"Cured?" Sherry echoed. "How are you going to cure this?" Sherry gestured to her enlarged arm.

"Can you stand up for me?" Epsilon asked, pulling Sherry up by her good arm. Epsilon slowly attempted to pivot Sherry only to be met with subtle resistance. "Can you please turn around for me?"

"Um, you didn't answer my question. Also, can't the cure be administered from the front?" Sherry cautiously suggested. She had a strong suspicion that Shadow Garden utilized an artifact pilfered from the Church to remedy demonic possessions, and she was intent on witnessing it first-hand.

Epsilon, a tad surprised at this, reassured, "Don't be so scared. What do you think I'm going to do back there, huh?" Epsilon thought for a moment. Then her eyes narrowed, her demeanor shifting abruptly as she leaned in close, her tone far more grave than moments before, "We aren't being judgemental, are we?"

What was she implying? Sherry hastily shook her head, hoping she hadn't overstepped her bounds.

Epsilon's countenance quickly reverted back to a breezy smile. "Of course not, you were out cold. Plus, you seem more receptive than some." Epsilon's gaze flitted towards the blonde elf who was standing nearby. "Anyway, please just turn around, okay? We'll have to remove your clothes."

"Um, okay," Sherry replied, and twirled around in her cloak. She realized that any further pushback might jeopardize her carefully crafted façade. "Wait... What did you just say?"

Before she knew it, Epsilon deftly slashed through Sherry's clothes with her slime, leaving her in nothing but her undergarments. Instinctively, Sherry clung to the shredded remnants of her attire, her cheeks aflame with mortification. She was on the verge of objecting when a radiant glow of blues and purples began to fill the room.