them.
Biting
harder on her lip, she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping the vision would
dissipate by the time she opened them again. But the pressure in her head and
the humming in her ears only increased.
She
had to look.
The
nightmare wouldn't end until she did.
Dread
consumed her, pressing the breath from her lungs, but she opened her eyes and
sent her gaze where it had to go.
Straight
through the mist to the prone shape stretched upon her bed.
The
image there beseeched her with eyes so filled with pain and sorrow their
powerful impact near bent her double.
‘Twas
the black stag.
The
beast whose heart had been ripped from its body.
Blood
ran down her chin as her teeth sank deeper into her lip, filling her mouth with
a brassy, metallic taste.
She
tried to look away, but couldn't. Frozen in place, bound by a force stronger
than she, Linnet watched the terrifying spectacle unfold.
Then
the wretched creature on the bed shifted, changing shape as she'd known it
would. Before her eyes, the stag became the man.
One
whose identity she now knew.
Her
husband.
The
man without a heart.
And
like the beast, Duncan MacKenzie beseeched her with his eyes.
Troubled
eyes holding her spellbound, forbidding her to look elsewhere.
As
before, he reached for her with blood-soaked hands. But this time his mouth
worked soundlessly, forming silent words whilst his tormented gaze held her
captive.
"Please
... I need ..." he pleaded, his voice raw, broken.
His
anguish wrapped itself around her, suffocating her in a stranglehold from which
she couldn't break free. She could only stand immovable as stone and pray the
vision end soon lest she perish from fright.
"Please
.. ." he said again, but the word faded, ending on
a ragged gasp.
The
mists dissipated, too. No longer dense, the thin, curling wisps receded into
the floor whence they'd come. And the tall shadows against the walls were once
again just that, shadows.
Gone,
the dark copse of trees she'd seen but moments before.
She
still heard the whirring noise but it, too, lessened as the normal night
sounds returned: the light patter of rain against the closed shutters and the
sigh of the wind chasing away the unholy drone that accompanied such
visitations.
Only he lingered on, his ravaged state growing in terrifying clarity with
each breath she took, his anguish a living thing.
‘Twas
so real she could smell the blood gushing from the wound in his chest, almost
feel the damp warmth of the deep red stains on the bedclothes, hear his
lifeblood dripping onto the floor, where it formed a pool, staining the rushes.
Aye,
‘Twas real.
Too
real.
Linnet's
fingers dug into the plaid, holding it tight as if its nubby wool could shield
her from the nightmare before her.
In
desperation, she turned away, staring instead at the tightly shuttered windows.
She must keep her wits, dared not do aught to awaken her husband.
Or
shatter the frightening image.
Ill
tidings came to those who tampered with visions such as hers.
A
soft rustling sound made her glance fearfully back to the bed. To her horror,
she saw he'd moved, raised himself up on his elbows.
Pinning
her with his stare, he struggled to speak, but his mouth only formed silent
words.
And
he tried to lean forward.
Why?
To reach her?
A shudder
passed through her at the thought. Pure terror welled inside her, demanding
release. Trembling, she clamped a hand over her mouth.
Then
he spoke.
Garbled
words she couldn't understand.
With
tremendous effort, he took a deep breath, holding it within as if to gather
strength before he released the air on a rush.
The
words that burst forth from his lips curdled Linnet's blood.
"Give
back my heart!"
Linnet
jumped back and released the cry she could hold back no longer.
‘Twas
an earsplitting shriek that echoed through the castle and was surely heard all
the way to the farthest shores of the loch.
A
bloodcurdling scream rent the night's quiet, instantly banishing the sweet
oblivion
Biting
harder on her lip, she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping the vision would
dissipate by the time she opened them again. But the pressure in her head and
the humming in her ears only increased.
She
had to look.
The
nightmare wouldn't end until she did.
Dread
consumed her, pressing the breath from her lungs, but she opened her eyes and
sent her gaze where it had to go.
Straight
through the mist to the prone shape stretched upon her bed.
The
image there beseeched her with eyes so filled with pain and sorrow their
powerful impact near bent her double.
‘Twas
the black stag.
The
beast whose heart had been ripped from its body.
Blood
ran down her chin as her teeth sank deeper into her lip, filling her mouth with
a brassy, metallic taste.
She
tried to look away, but couldn't. Frozen in place, bound by a force stronger
than she, Linnet watched the terrifying spectacle unfold.
Then
the wretched creature on the bed shifted, changing shape as she'd known it
would. Before her eyes, the stag became the man.
One
whose identity she now knew.
Her
husband.
The
man without a heart.
And
like the beast, Duncan MacKenzie beseeched her with his eyes.
Troubled
eyes holding her spellbound, forbidding her to look elsewhere.
As
before, he reached for her with blood-soaked hands. But this time his mouth
worked soundlessly, forming silent words whilst his tormented gaze held her
captive.
"Please
... I need ..." he pleaded, his voice raw, broken.
His
anguish wrapped itself around her, suffocating her in a stranglehold from which
she couldn't break free. She could only stand immovable as stone and pray the
vision end soon lest she perish from fright.
"Please
.. ." he said again, but the word faded, ending on
a ragged gasp.
The
mists dissipated, too. No longer dense, the thin, curling wisps receded into
the floor whence they'd come. And the tall shadows against the walls were once
again just that, shadows.
Gone,
the dark copse of trees she'd seen but moments before.
She
still heard the whirring noise but it, too, lessened as the normal night
sounds returned: the light patter of rain against the closed shutters and the
sigh of the wind chasing away the unholy drone that accompanied such
visitations.
Only he lingered on, his ravaged state growing in terrifying clarity with
each breath she took, his anguish a living thing.
‘Twas
so real she could smell the blood gushing from the wound in his chest, almost
feel the damp warmth of the deep red stains on the bedclothes, hear his
lifeblood dripping onto the floor, where it formed a pool, staining the rushes.
Aye,
‘Twas real.
Too
real.
Linnet's
fingers dug into the plaid, holding it tight as if its nubby wool could shield
her from the nightmare before her.
In
desperation, she turned away, staring instead at the tightly shuttered windows.
She must keep her wits, dared not do aught to awaken her husband.
Or
shatter the frightening image.
Ill
tidings came to those who tampered with visions such as hers.
A
soft rustling sound made her glance fearfully back to the bed. To her horror,
she saw he'd moved, raised himself up on his elbows.
Pinning
her with his stare, he struggled to speak, but his mouth only formed silent
words.
And
he tried to lean forward.
Why?
To reach her?
A shudder
passed through her at the thought. Pure terror welled inside her, demanding
release. Trembling, she clamped a hand over her mouth.
Then
he spoke.
Garbled
words she couldn't understand.
With
tremendous effort, he took a deep breath, holding it within as if to gather
strength before he released the air on a rush.
The
words that burst forth from his lips curdled Linnet's blood.
"Give
back my heart!"
Linnet
jumped back and released the cry she could hold back no longer.
‘Twas
an earsplitting shriek that echoed through the castle and was surely heard all
the way to the farthest shores of the loch.
A
bloodcurdling scream rent the night's quiet, instantly banishing the sweet
oblivion
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