Sophia Kraken's Arc

Chapter 1 of 4

Sophia pressed the powder puff against her cheek, watching green skin disappear beneath a layer of pale dust. Her hand moved too fast, leaving streaks across her jaw. She cursed and tried again. Every morning was the same battle—hiding what she'd become since the carriage accident three months ago. The sharp rocks had killed her, but somehow she'd come back wrong. Now her skin had a green tint that powder could barely cover, and yesterday her left pinky finger had fallen off during breakfast. She'd learned to carry spare gloves. What she wanted more than anything was to master these cosmetics, to perfect the disguise until no one could tell she was dead. The powder from Madame Beaumont's shop worked, but it ran out fast. She needed more, and she couldn't afford another jar. That's when she remembered the old building two streets over—the one with peeling paint and cracked plaster walls. She'd walked past it last week and noticed chunks of white plaster crumbling onto the ground. She grabbed a small cloth bag from her drawer and hurried outside. The building stood empty, its walls showing gray dust beneath the broken white surface. Sophia glanced around, then scraped her fingernail along a crack. Pale powder fell into her palm. She worked quickly, collecting the fine ash into her bag. Her heart raced as she gathered enough to fill it halfway. Back home, she spread the powder on her vanity and mixed it with a drop of lavender water. The paste looked promising. She dabbed it on her wrist and watched it dry to a pale finish that matched her old skin tone almost perfectly. Not quite as good as Madame Beaumont's formula, but close enough. She could work with this. She could learn to make it better. This was how she'd master the art of hiding what she'd become—one experiment at a time. But testing powder on her wrist wasn't enough. She needed to see her full face in proper light, and her bedroom mirror was too small and dim. Sophia tucked the powder bag into her pocket and walked toward the town square. A fountain stood in the center, its twisted figures casting shadows across the dark water. The basin held still water that reflected like glass. She knelt beside it and leaned close, studying her face in the surface. The plaster powder looked uneven in daylight—too pale in some spots, too green in others. She pulled out her handkerchief and dabbed at the streaks, trying to blend them smooth. Her hands shook as she worked. This was her life now—stealing materials, mixing formulas, practicing in public fountains. But each attempt brought her closer to the answer. If she could perfect this disguise, she could go anywhere. She could attend the balls again, walk through crowds, live like she used to. The reflection staring back at her still looked wrong, but it looked more human than yesterday. That was progress. A woman walked past and stared at her kneeling by the fountain. Sophia's face went hot. She stood too quickly and dropped her handkerchief into the water. The woman kept walking. Sophia fished out the wet cloth and stuffed it in her pocket, her heart pounding. She needed help—real help. Someone who understood what she was trying to do. That's when she noticed a shop across the square with a painted sign showing a bright face and cheerful colors. The words read "Zombie Cosmetics Store" in curling letters. Her breath caught. A store for people like her. She crossed the square and pushed open the door. Inside, shelves held jars of powder in different shades, bottles of colored liquid, brushes of all sizes. A counter stood at the back with mirrors lined along the wall. This was where she could learn. This was where she could master every technique she needed. Sophia stepped forward, fingers already reaching for the nearest jar. Today was the day she started learning how to truly hide what she'd become.