Hello, The Witch's House fandom! Here's the only offering I have for you to profess how much I love this game and the twist ending. Of which, if you haven't seen that ending and are reading this, STOP AND FINISH THE GAME!
This little fic touches on the possibility of a part of Viola remaining in Ellen because of her body, based on the theory that a body itself contains the memories of the person, not only the soul and mind. I'm pretty sure that as long as Ellen uses Viola's body, a part of Viola will always remain, and not just in her image.
With that, I hope you enjoy this fic. :)
A person's body holds a lot of memories on its own. Etched with the experiences the holder has gone through, no matter whose soul it contains, the memory of what it has went through remains. Ellen knew this, and as she began her days leading her new life as Viola, she knew she could depend on these memories to help her adjust carefully.
Simple actions like walking and running felt different than when she was in her own body. The feeling of the items around her, the soft, itchy quality on her bed, the cold, metal kettle on the stove, everything felt new and familiar to her at the same time. These new experiences excited her, and for a while she reveled in the joy this new body gave her.
She was no longer sick, she was free. She could do anything she set her mind to.
But even with these body memories of how to walk, run and put things together like making her bed and doing simple chores such as cleaning, there were still certain aspects of being Viola that she couldn't quite fulfill. Viola's father was shocked when he realised his daughter had forgotten how to cook their favourite dishes. Ellen was quick to blame the trauma of what she went through recently as the reason as to why she forgot.
Finding it strange but knowing it can't be helped, Viola's father pulled out the cooking recipes Viola's mother had written while she was still alive. Looking at it fondly, he gave it to Ellen and spoke of his wife. "She didn't start off as a great cook, you know," he said. "She used to fail a lot as a child, which is why she would write everything down, making sure to take note of anything she should be aware of to make the food better. She became a great cook after that, and never needed this ever since. But you loved it, I remember... You read her notes happily and picked up cooking easily thanks to this. I hope this will help you remember how to cook again."
Ellen was sure there were tears in his eyes, but he smiled happily. Even though he wasn't her real father, she did take over Viola, and she did say she would give Viola's share of love to him. And while it was a cruel promise, it was one Ellen intended to keep. So she decided to work on her cooking.
It took a while to get used to. Ellen had never cooked in her life, having been bed ridden since she could remember. While cutting up the ingredients turned out fine, of which Ellen assumed she had always been good with the knife, putting it all together didn't come as easily to her as she thought. She hesitated before the stove, urging herself to do as what was written in the book Viola's father gave her. But after a while, she felt sure this wasn't right.
This just didn't feel right.
Realising this, Ellen took a deep breath, closed her eyes... and trusted Viola's body. It should know... it should remember. And with that trust, Viola's body began to move. She put the ingredients in accordingly, one by one, the feeling both nostalgic and new to Ellen. And the moment she tasted the dish as it was ready, a familiar feeling rushed through her, and she knew she had gotten it right.
She let Viola's father try the dish, and he smiled in approval. "That's my little girl," he said as he took another spoonful of her cooking.
Ellen took his words with pride. She wanted to compliment herself first, showing Viola's father a tiny part of who Ellen is with words of how hard it was to make this and that he should have more pride in her.
But the first words she found herself saying was, "Thank you, father."
She stood shocked. Again, the feeling of familiarity. It may take a while to get used to this.
As they rested by the fire, the radio turned on, a happy tune began to play and instantly Viola's father stood up. "It's our song!" he told her. Snatching her hands, he pulled Ellen towards the middle of the room.
"But father, I can't dance," Ellen protested as she struggled to keep up with him. This dance was too fast! This is ridiculous! Dancing is ridiculous!
"What? Nonsense! We dance like this all the time whenever we hear this song!" He held her right hand and putting a hand on her waist, he began to twirl her around and danced small steps in a square around the room.
Ellen panicked. She was sure he was going to step on her feet, or stumble and fall, he could hurt this body! She wanted to shout at him to stop, but as she looked at his bright smile and how much fun he was having, Ellen decided against it.
And once more, allowed Viola's body to take over.
The dance got faster and Ellen realised she was keeping time with him perfectly. In the end, this dance was about letting go of control. The room was spinning and soon Ellen found herself laughing in a way she had never laughed before. It came from deep within, a joy she had never known all her life, the joy she had always wanted, and as Viola's father pulled her out in a striking pose in time with the music, Ellen fell to the floor, laughing until she cried.
"I don't know what's gotten into you honey," said Viola's father as he sat on the floor with her. "But I'm glad you enjoyed that. It feels like forever since we last did it."
Ellen apologised and explained that she felt like she had never had so much fun as she did just now.
That night, as Ellen was asleep, her eyes suddenly flew open and to her surprise, tears were falling down her cheek. She sat up and wondered if she had had a bad dream. She clutched her nightdress, wondering why her chest hurt and if she had harmed her body by laughing so hard.
But the answer soon came to her. And she laughed ironically as her tears poured even more. "Stupid body," Ellen murmured through her sobs. "You shouldn't yearn for a soul that has long gone."
Yet she allowed Viola's body to mourn. For even if Viola's soul was gone, the memories in her body remains.