Chapter One
She was dragged into the room by one thin arm, and tossed onto the bed. She sat in the same position she always did, her dirty blonde hair hanging in unkempt strands across her face. She sat back against the headboard, and wrapped her hands around her knees, pulling them up to her chest.
The dress she wore may have once been white, but had faded to a filthy grey. The hem was torn, threads pulling from the line of the dress as it continued its long path to being unravelled.
The man who'd tossed her into the tiny attic room looked at her in contempt as she stared off into nothing. He spat on the floor, then walked over and slapped her across the face.
The girl's head snapped backwards, then slowly came around to stare forward once more. She showed no other reaction – her expression was neutral, all but the swiftly reddening skin on her cheek.
“Pathetic,” the man said, and turned away.
He walked from the tiny room, closed the door, and turned the key in the lock, before heading downstairs.
The girl sat staring, the stinging sensation in her cheek slowly fading in the still air of the empty room.
And then it wasn't empty any more. The man in the long coat stepped from the shadows near the door, and reached a fleshless hand out to stroke the girls hair. She didn't move, just continued staring straight ahead.
“They've hurt you, haven't they, my dear? Beaten you, ruined you, driven you to this...” He tapped her on the forehead with his knuckles. “Driven you somewhere inside there, deep where they can no longer reach you.”
A rictus smile crossed his skinless face and he reached into the pocket of his coat.
“But if I know anything – and I do – then part of you wants to make them hurt back. Part of you wants them to pay for what they have done. And that's where I come in.”
When his hand came out of his pocket, it was closed around something that shone light through his fleshless fingers. He opened one of the girl's hands, and slipped the object into her palm. Her fingers slowly closed around it, and went still once more.
In her hand, the light began to pulse, a steady thrumming that lit the room in flashes of illumination.
The skinless man smiled, and stood.
“Have fun my dear. I look forward to seeing your accomplishments.”
He turned, and walked back into the shadows. There was a sound like wind blowing, and then he was gone.
The girl sat staring, her hand clenched around the glowing jewel in her hand. Deep inside her mind, she felt her psyche begin to expand, creeping into the corners of the room. Like a cloud, her mind filled the available space, then began to leak outwards, travelling down the stairs towards the floors beneath. Her awareness travelled down to the lower floor, seeking out those who had locked her in this room.
***
Down in the servants' quarters, the Butler was staring moodily into the fire. The palm of his hand burned from where he had slapped the girl, but not as deeply as the shame burned in his soul. He was a portly man, his sparse white hair having long since faded from its youthful black. He sat back in his chair, and sipped from the cup of tea the Cook had handed him.
“It didn't go well then?” the woman asked.
“No. She's not improved.”
“And what did you do?”
The Butler glared at her from underneath heavy eyebrows, then ran a hand across his tired eyes.
“Nothing that we haven't all done. The girl's a bloody nuisance to us all.”
The Cook shrugged, and began to make up a tray of food.
“That for her?” the Butler asked.
“Aye. I'm used to feeding her by now. What the master did to her...”
Her voice tailed off at the Butler's warning glance. When he was sure she wasn't going to continue, he turned back to the fire.
“There are things we don't discuss. You know that.”
The Cook shrugged again, and lifted the tray. Opening the door to the back stairs, she began the long ascent up to the attic, the lanterns leading her
She was dragged into the room by one thin arm, and tossed onto the bed. She sat in the same position she always did, her dirty blonde hair hanging in unkempt strands across her face. She sat back against the headboard, and wrapped her hands around her knees, pulling them up to her chest.
The dress she wore may have once been white, but had faded to a filthy grey. The hem was torn, threads pulling from the line of the dress as it continued its long path to being unravelled.
The man who'd tossed her into the tiny attic room looked at her in contempt as she stared off into nothing. He spat on the floor, then walked over and slapped her across the face.
The girl's head snapped backwards, then slowly came around to stare forward once more. She showed no other reaction – her expression was neutral, all but the swiftly reddening skin on her cheek.
“Pathetic,” the man said, and turned away.
He walked from the tiny room, closed the door, and turned the key in the lock, before heading downstairs.
The girl sat staring, the stinging sensation in her cheek slowly fading in the still air of the empty room.
And then it wasn't empty any more. The man in the long coat stepped from the shadows near the door, and reached a fleshless hand out to stroke the girls hair. She didn't move, just continued staring straight ahead.
“They've hurt you, haven't they, my dear? Beaten you, ruined you, driven you to this...” He tapped her on the forehead with his knuckles. “Driven you somewhere inside there, deep where they can no longer reach you.”
A rictus smile crossed his skinless face and he reached into the pocket of his coat.
“But if I know anything – and I do – then part of you wants to make them hurt back. Part of you wants them to pay for what they have done. And that's where I come in.”
When his hand came out of his pocket, it was closed around something that shone light through his fleshless fingers. He opened one of the girl's hands, and slipped the object into her palm. Her fingers slowly closed around it, and went still once more.
In her hand, the light began to pulse, a steady thrumming that lit the room in flashes of illumination.
The skinless man smiled, and stood.
“Have fun my dear. I look forward to seeing your accomplishments.”
He turned, and walked back into the shadows. There was a sound like wind blowing, and then he was gone.
The girl sat staring, her hand clenched around the glowing jewel in her hand. Deep inside her mind, she felt her psyche begin to expand, creeping into the corners of the room. Like a cloud, her mind filled the available space, then began to leak outwards, travelling down the stairs towards the floors beneath. Her awareness travelled down to the lower floor, seeking out those who had locked her in this room.
***
Down in the servants' quarters, the Butler was staring moodily into the fire. The palm of his hand burned from where he had slapped the girl, but not as deeply as the shame burned in his soul. He was a portly man, his sparse white hair having long since faded from its youthful black. He sat back in his chair, and sipped from the cup of tea the Cook had handed him.
“It didn't go well then?” the woman asked.
“No. She's not improved.”
“And what did you do?”
The Butler glared at her from underneath heavy eyebrows, then ran a hand across his tired eyes.
“Nothing that we haven't all done. The girl's a bloody nuisance to us all.”
The Cook shrugged, and began to make up a tray of food.
“That for her?” the Butler asked.
“Aye. I'm used to feeding her by now. What the master did to her...”
Her voice tailed off at the Butler's warning glance. When he was sure she wasn't going to continue, he turned back to the fire.
“There are things we don't discuss. You know that.”
The Cook shrugged again, and lifted the tray. Opening the door to the back stairs, she began the long ascent up to the attic, the lanterns leading her
Similar Books
