Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

Nathalie was in her room to rest after a brief meeting with Arnold and Theodore—maybe Johannes as what his father would say. She kept her conspicuous attire, the one she had for New Year's Eve, hidden deep inside the closet.

'Even Arnold holds resemblance to her father, William.'

Right off the bat, Arnold coming back so soon was alarming to her, she knew she had to make haste.

'Time to keep the clothes in a safe place; these shall be useful soon enough.' With a click, she heaved a light sigh as she grazed her fingertips over the polished surface of the closet door.

'I'm in this magical world I created, and I shall start living as the monster in this story. The question is, will I ever be, though?'

Nathalie turned around, leaning her back against it while arching her neck.

'Right, my sling bag and manuscript.'

She rushed to bed then grabbed her sling bag and her manuscript beneath the pillows and placed it within the vanity's special vault.

Pushing the drawers went along such timing with the series of knocks echoed through the door. She dashed in a flinch and took a jump, sailing nimbly in the air and crashed on the mattress.

"Mysti?"

She sat upright, leaning against the headboard, as she cleared her throat.

Another round of knocks came around, and she hollered at Arnold to enter her room.

His head perked from the door that was now slightly ajar.

"I'm all fresh now."

Arnold had a lopsided grin and flashed his set of three-layered suits: A white inner sleeve toppled with an azure vest and an arctic greatcoat. He was also wearing such trousers, in mint condition, that had the same pattern and hue as the vest.

[For what reason should you wear that outfit though?]

"I call it family bonding."

[No.]

"To celebrate your recovery, I shall hold a banquet—"

[No!]

He drooped his head and shirked like a dog reprimanded from bad actions.

Nathalie couldn't help but giggle at his actions. Even with such distance, he was purposefully disheveled— but not too subtle and bizarre to look at— and his outfit went a tad bit disarray for her to criticize.

"Do I look good enough in this attire of the day?" He then let out a hearty hum. Seeing how he had his chin up and tugging the open lapels of his coat, she took a slight shake of her head.

It was a special side of him that was only for her daughter whenever he would interact with her.

[Father, you're now a notch lower from what I remember. Did our fashion sense gone out of the blue?]

Her sharp words were more than enough to impale him and coughed a mouthful of blood.

[Look at you.] Nathalie patted the spare space near the edge of her bed. "Father, come here, please."

Him, feeling dejected, he continued to slump his shoulders while shuffling across the floor like a wandering ghost.

Once he stood beside her and bent lower, those slender hands of hers reached for his white ascot necktie pinned with their golden household insignia, which symbolized their wealth and birthright.

[There's a speck of dust here.] A little of it and then a pat to his shoulders. She then smoothed down the sleek coat. [Also on your white gold belt.]

Taking a peer down, he flicked it off with his white-gloved hand, which also matched well with his leather shoes.

Arnold only had a hearty guffaw while scratching his nape. "Thank you. You're always the best."

Blinking from how she got embraced all of a sudden, she revealed a smug smirk.

'Here it comes…'

[We won't be doing this all day, all week, throughout our lives, right? Someday, you will need to do it on your own. It might be the last time I—]

"No!" he roared, then hugged her tight. "I almost lost you. No way there shall be a thing such as 'last'—not on my watch!"

The warm quilt hardened no different from a stone as the sheet of ice spread out her bed. Sleets and diamond clouds of dust befell on her shoulders and cheeks with a burning touch.

[Dad, don't make it snow here too.] She caressed his back, which he apologized, and vanished the bitter cold around them.

Once they pulled away from each other, she asked again, [I don't think I have remembered that much, Father. Did I sleep well?]

"Ahh! That's…" He clicked his tongue from her question, an inevitable one that was hard to answer truthfully. "Yes, a good night's rest; you don't have nightmares, to begin with."

His palms continued to caress her back with a goofy smile on his face.

'He's trying to divert the conversation. It won't do. I feel bad, but I have to know.'

Inwardly, Nathalie wanted to roll on the floor, laughing, from Arnold's constipated look—so distressed and livid from her plea.

'Now for the final acting.'

[Father, if you won't tell me, then I'm afraid to tell you I have headaches and too nauseous when I think of the large gaps within my memory—]

Nathalie pressed her stomach as she acted like the urge to retch from the sudden bile coursing through inside her. Wretched sounds escaped her lips, and Arnold held a deep concern from his glances as he began to panic.

"Mysti?! Mystique!" He tried to shake her; suddenly, her actions went worse, convulsing a little. "Johannes?! Maids! Guards! Damn peasants!" roaring aloud, he also reached for the ringing bell.

But Nathalie stopped him halfway.

[Father—please—pat—back…] She wrote hurriedly midair and reached for her back, gesturing, while she groaned in pain.

He acted quickly. To his surprise, Nathalie slowly recovered from her lurching position, and he went on doing it ever-so-diligently.

[S—stop, I'm fine…] Nathalie coughed lightly; she then shifted her back against the headboard and glanced at him with droopy eyes. [Father, please…]

"You will regret it." He said through gritted teeth, trying to control his frustration.

Nathalie smiled with warmth, that even though his cold and angry facade, he would thaw from it.

Indeed, it was super effective.

"[I would never; I'm sure Father is there for me.]

He took a scratch from his head, loud and strong enough for both of them to hear; as his slicked hair turned disheveled, he hissed, "Fine, tell me if it hurts so I shall stop it, are we clear?"

Once Nathalie nodded, she braced herself when his palms hovered her face.

From thereon, several intricate frames played through her mind like a panorama.