The Coming From the Shadows Series
Previous Instalments:
- The Imperium Chronicles: The Legacy A Lost War – The Rise of the Imperium: A Dark Legacy Unfolds
Coming From the Shadows
The Imperium Chronicles: The Seeds of Servitude
Back Ground:
Since Ancient Times; the Imperium – and organisation that was formed as uniting voices of various Cultist groups, had been in search of their Ancient Celestial Master – at first, they found themselves up against the formidable ‘Guardians’ a remanent left behind to guard the Ancient Prison’s from Human interference and to prevent the Followers of ‘Zor’Githas’ from finding and freeing him; but, with the marching of time, the Imperium learnt to operate in the shadows, manipulating King’s and Queens to their bidding, using the desire of ‘more’ and ‘more’ – ‘Greed’ was a powerful motivator to twist people into serving the Imperium.
As time marched on; the King’s and Queens of would be led into conflicts against one another, within the chaos, the Guardian’s would come under threat, and as their numbers dwindled, a new movement would be established within the Early Medieval Period; the ‘Hunters’ were established, while the lacked the same unity as the Imperium, they proved to be more than capable of causing a disruption.
So often is proven by time though; Greed can always draw out the most selfish of individuals who crave ‘more’ – by December 21st 1872 – the last organised group of ‘Hunters’ in Britain had established a long-time safe haven East of Lancaster at a Farming Estate they built a community within, until the Cult of the Minotaur struck, serving their leader; Elias Smythe – the Hunter’s were either killed or scattered, it meant to end of what little organised resistance the Imperium had to contend with – there was nothing to challenge them.
Amongst those who survived was the Langdon Family; Cyril and Evelyn – Evelyn had given birth to their daughter the night of the attack, face with little options, they had to flee to ensure ethe safety of their newborn daughter.
Settling in the village of King’s Langley; Cyril and Evelyn would train their daughter; Cathryn – though they mostly remained isolated to ensure they could remain hidden from the Imperium, but, nothing lasts forever, in 1887; the Cult of the Minotaur, faced with an internal power struggle as its new leader; George Smythe came to power was unaware as members of his Cult broke orders, tracking the Langdon Family and killing both Cyril and Eveyln – Cathryn at 14 was left an orphan – she would be rescued by Anne Smythe the following morning who took Cathryn away to safety, becoming a mother figure to Cathryn as she did what she could to protect her.
Cathryn still held her secrets, as a strange and mysterious man known simply as ‘The Monk’ would appear and disappear to provide Cathryn with training; ensuring she always remained ready to fight the Imperium – but her inexperience and lack of understanding of manipulation left her unaware of the tactics that George Smythe would begin to employ due to Cathryn’s clear developing infatuation of him – he had already begun to plant the seeds of her control.
Introduction:
10th of December 1889 AD
London, England
The air wafted with the stench of stale urine and the burning of coal-smoke that blackened the sky; everything seemed to shroud the narrow alleyway within the infamous ‘Devil’s Acre’.
Jeremiah, a man whose weasel-like features, were contorted in fear, he scrambled against the grimy brick wall as a shadow loomed over him; a figure hardened by years of struggle; his face, etched with a grim determination; Jesse.
Jesse was one of the few Hunters to have escaped the farm in 1872; he spoke with a threatening voice, a low growl “Where is she Jeremiah!” Jesse grabbed the collar of his threadbare coat and pinned him backwards against the wall, lifting him ever so slightly upwards “Cathryn Langdon!; what do you know about her?”
Jeremiah sputtered “I…, I don’t know a Cathryn Langdon!; Please, I am just a messenger…”
Jesse slammed Jeremiah back against the wall “Don’t lie to me!; I know you’re sniffing about the Smythe Estate in a regular basis; that’s where she is, isn’t it!, what does the Imperium want with Cathryn!”
Jeremiah’s eyes darted about, he was desperate for an escape route “The…, The Smythe’s they protect her; that is all I know, I swear!”
A low growl escaped Jesse’s throat as he pushed Jeremiah higher against the wall, his muscles tensed under the effort; his glare unmoving “Protect her or Use her?; tell me everything, or I swear, you’ll be feeding the rats before dawn!”
Jeremiah sobbed; he cracked, spilling a jumbled tale of whispers and rumours – he told Jesse of the Imperium’s intrigue at the potential she had in leading them to something simply called ‘The Box’, something the Langdon Family had supposed to have been protecting, but since the deaths of Cyril and Evelyn, it had simply vanished.
Jeremiah also spoke of George Smythe; how a darkness clung to him like a second skin, Jesse listened intently to each word – he knew the twisted games of the Imperium, but what Jeremiah said of George, made him stand out as entirely different – George Smythe; the son of Elias Smythe, was described as far more twisted, like the embodiment of evil incarnate, Jeremiah spoke of his cruelty and his twisted manipulations of people, how he swayed people into serving him without ever needing to resort to acts of violence, and most of the time, he only ever presents things as simple ‘suggestion’ that somehow enables George to control people with little effort.
Jeremiah painted a grim picture; of how all he is aware of, is George has displayed interest that goes beyond ‘The Box’ that it seems like George has other plans, that would not fit the agenda of the Imperium – Jesse knew he would need to act, and act quickly.
Chapter 1:
15th of December, 1889 A.D.
The Smythe Estate, Near the mouth of the River Thames
Along the River Thames; the Smythe Estate was like a land of grotesque opulence; cut off from the world outside by a protective wall, a single gated entrance – its ground covered by a dense forest that cast skeletal shadows.
At the centre of this island of horrifying opulence was the Smythe Manor; it’s gothic architecture clawed at the sky, a monument of power in decadence.
It was here, within these walls that Cathryn Langdon – was lying in her bedroom; the heavy velvet curtains drawn shrouding the room in darkness aside from its flickering lamps as they cast dancing shadows.
Cathryn’s long raven-dark hair fell all around her across the pillow, as her silvery-grey eyes stared upwards with a dreamy-like stare; the cold reality of the outside world was far from her mind; she stared at the ornate ceiling, a canvas for her burgeoning fantasises; George Smythe filled her thoughts – his sharp, intelligent icy-blue eyes; they were like glacial ice, so full of intelligence.
She couldn’t but think of how his lips quirked with a knowing smile; he was a man of power and influence; commanded people without hesitation, his physical prowess she had only ever seen briefly, and that had been by accident – normally, his body was hidden beneath a well-tailored suit.
She imaged his hands tracing the curve of her cheek; his voice a low murmur in her ear; a shiver ran down her spine, the mixture of fear and exhilaration; she wanted him, she didn’t know why; but she felt a desperate need – it was both terrifying and thrilling, she couldn’t help her lips twisting into a smile as light giggle escape her.
Then, there was a sudden dip in the mattress, it jolted her back to reality; her breath caught in her throat; Georg Smythe – he loomed directly over her, his face close to hers, he placed a hand against her cheek, lightly moving his fingers to caress her skin, it sent shivers down Cathryn’s back – his eyes bore into hers, dark and intense, a hint of mischief that made her heart beat faster “Daydreaming Cathryn?” he questioned; his voice was low, but there was a seductive purr present “I wonder…, what had captured you imagination so completely?”
Cathryn blushed crimson as she began to stammer “N-Nothing George…., I.., I was just thinking” her eyes flickered to his lips involuntarily; she found herself wanting to press her own against them, to feel his skin against hers; she wanted to be closer
George’s smile widened; predatory and knowing “Hmm.., perhaps, you should be thinking about what you should be wearing for dinner tonight; something more appropriate than what your currently wearing”
George straightened up; his gaze lingering on her a moment longer before he turned, leaving the room; Cathryn felt her heart pounding against her chest, she scrambled from the bed, she felt a need to please him; she needed to find the perfect dress, the perfect way to present herself, she had to gain his attention.
The dining room was a cavern of shadows and candlelight; silverware gleamed, reflecting the flickering flames – a strong scent of the roasted meats wafted easily through the air, a blend of sweetness that mixed with a aroma of expensive wines; Cathryn, dressed in a gown that clung to her figure, entered hesitantly.
George was already seated, a glass of claret in hand; he was leaned back against is chair, his predator gaze observing as Cathryn slowly came in – he was not alone, his cousin; Anne was present, she sat with a face etched with quiet concern – she could see his eyes observing Cathryn.
Cathryn felt her skin crawl, her heart race from the appraising gaze “Ah…, Cathryn, punctual as always; such a commendable trait, obedient”
Cathryn barely registered the subtle edge in his voice; she was too focused on the warmth of his gaze, the way he made her feel special; chosen.
As the meal progressed; a messenger would arrive, his face pale and drawn; he whispered urgently to George “Sir, we have a problem; someone has been targeting our informants in Old Pye Street; they’re being silence, one-by-one”
George frowned; a look of calculated annoyance on his face “This is most concerning; it seems we have a rogue ‘Hunter on the loose, disrupting our peace” he once again leaned back in his chair “Whoever it is, must be stopped before they can unravel our network” there was a pause as his attention shifted towards Cathryn, his eyes gleaming with hidden purpose before his attention had apparently returned to the messenger “It is a pity really; Old Pye Street is such a hive of information, if only we had someone, a skilled operative that could deal with this little issue hindering our progress”
Cathryn’s mind immediately fixed on what was being said; she knew of George’s role within the Imperium, yet, despite that; he never once tried to stop her actions – she had been sneaking out very often striking against the Imperium’s operations – what Cathryn was unaware of, was how her actions had been indirectly benefiting George, and since the start, he had begun twisting her activities into an advantage, he no longer ever needed to even get his own hands dirty, Cathryn simply created chaos on her own – just as she had been raised to do by her parents, but; she had never saw or even understood George’s intentions or manipulations.
The idea that someone else was also causing trouble against the Imperium had now sparked her curiosity, would they be a threat or a potential ally; though another thought entered her head, what f this new danger that seemed to be presenting itself became a threat to George – Cathryn shook her head, she wasn’t going to allow that, she saw her opportunity to finally do something that she believed was going to be ‘protective’ she had not even clicked that George had laid his conversation out deliberately.
Chapter 2:
16th of December, 1889 A.D.
The Devil’s Acre, London
The stench of Old Pye Street was overwhelming – a miasma of dirt, decay, the effects of poverty was rife with vice and desperation; this was Cathryn’s first visit into the so called ‘Devil’s Acre’ her face was a mask of grim determination.
Prostitutes called out to passersby, pickpockets plied their trade and the atmosphere thick with the sound of drunken laughter and the sounds of angry arguments; she did her best to ignore, to focus on her training, she knew of one target within this area, she was hopeful she can find him before anyone else – ‘James Shaw’ – he might have answers ion the possible whereabouts of this new ‘Hunter’ creating trouble.
As darkness fell, she finally found him; he was slumped against a wall – his unmoving form caused her to narrow her eyes, she approached cautiously, pushing her hand into the inside of her coat, her fingers tracing the handle of the Kukri Knife hidden away; as she kneeled down, she inspected the unmoving form carefully, then…, there was a noise.
She whirled around quickly; her hand moved away from the handle of the Kukri Knife, instead, her fingers found the small throwing knives; instinctively she drew one free and flung it – it whistled through the air, narrowly missing its target and embedding itself into a wooden beam just inches away from the figures head, it was clear he had timed his head movement; his head was tilted towards the left “Hold!” his voice commanded
The figure as he stepped closer, coming further into the light revealed a weathered face with haunting eyes; Jesse – he stared at her with a mixture of surprise and something akin to pity in his gaze “Cathryn Langdon?” he asked; his voice rough
Confused, Cathryn edged back a moment, returning her hand back into her coat, her fingers gently grasping the handle of the Kukri Knife in preparation “Who are you?”
“I’m here to help” Jesse said; his eyes never leaving hers “We are on the same side; we both fight the Imperium” stepping forwards; he watched as Cathryn immediately moved back as an instinctive reaction “Come with me; you’re young, inexperienced; you don’t yet understand the game they are playing” he paused, his voice dropping to a low whisper “And…, as a young girl, your not going to see what they intend for you”
Cathryn’s eyes narrowed; she kept her distance, the two of them keeping pace – when Jesse moves, Cathryn backs up, slowly, they moved deeper into the alleyway, Cathryn’s fingers remained tight around the handle of her Kukri Knife.
Jesse attempted to speak of her parents; claiming to her his knowledge of Cyril and Evelyn – telling her of their life at the Farm East of Lancaster; something Cathryn had no memory of; Cathryn though was more focused on the fact he wouldn’t stop advancing – as she moved further and further back, her foot would hit a wall first, she’d backed up to a dead-end, Jesse had trapped her.
He continued to speak of her parents though; he told her of their work against the Imperium, she was aware of it – she wasn’t however, sure of who he was, and that was what needed explaining “Cathryn…, please” Jesse said, his voice was rough filled with an urgency, he held his hand out – it was as if he was trying to sooth a wild animal; but Cathryn was no wild animal – she was a Langdon
“Stay back!” she hissed at him, finally drawing the Kukri blade free; he was too close – but, this action had an immediate effect
Upon her drawing the Kukri knife; he finally stopped his advance; his face was etched with frustration, he realised that further pursuit would only push her away – letting out a frustrated sigh, he reached for the cane resting beneath his long coat, pulling it free, he gripped its handle and pulled – with a sharp, metallic ‘shink’ he drew the concealed sword free “This is what they’ve done to us Cathryn” he told her; the tip of the cane-sword aimed towards the ground “Made us suspicious of our own shadows; we both fight the same enemy!”
The words would barely register; a deafening roar tore through the air – Jesse felt a sharp, stinging pain explode across his shoulder, he staggered, his face contorted in agony as the cane and the cane-sword itself clattered to the ground, he fell against the wall before collapsing down to the ground.
From the shadows of the alleyway entrance; George emerged – his tall and imposing frame filled the space, casting a long, menacing shadow over Jesse – his face hardened, almost cruel “Cathryn” he said; his voice suddenly as smooth as silk “Are you alright?”
She stared; speechless at the scene before her, Jesse bleeding and barely even conscious – then there was George; a protector – George never waited for an answer, he simply held his hand out “Come Cathryn; let us return back to the Estate” though Cathryn didn’t pick up on it; there was a subtle authority in his tone around ‘Come’
She didn’t hesitate though; she immediately obeyed; returning the Kukri Knife inside her coat before taking his hand; his grip was surprisingly tight; almost possessive, as they turned to leave; she saw George cast a final, fleeting glance towards Jesse, a flicker of something dark and predatory in his eyes before he led her away,
Chapter 3:
Jesse groaned; his body throbbed with so much pain he could barely keep himself conscious, he could taste the coppery tang of blood in his mouth – with great effort, he clawed his way back to his feet, the world around him span, each breath was ragged – each movement and agonising struggle; he needed to get out of there.
Stumbling, he crashed back against the wall when his legs nearly went on him, lurching about he eventually reached the end of the alleyway; a building loomed in the distance; its windows casting patches of weak light, summoning what little strength he had, he dragged himself towards it – a figure pulled the door inwards, a man within looked at Jesse with concern catching him as he fell forwards suddenly, his eyes widened as he pulled Jesse into the open doorway “Jesse!” he roared out in panic “Mabel!; Mabel get in here, we need help!”
The Smythe Estate
Within the oppressive opulence of the Smythe Manor; Cathryn sat on the edge of her bed; the silk cool against the backs of her exposed legs, she was leaning forwards, her mind was replaying the events of the evening; it was a dizzying kaleidoscope of confusion – how did Jesse know about her parents, about their actions against the Imperium – was he telling the truth?
The door creaked open, disrupting her swirling thoughts; George stood in the doorway – his presence filled the room, quickly, Cathryn scrambled to her feet as a wave of relief washed over her “George!” she said, her voice laced with surprise, she felt vulnerable due to her nightwear
George grinned; to Cathryn it felt like a reassurance, it melted away her anxieties as he slowly approached her “You seemed quite shaken when I got you back here; are you alright?”
“I…, I am now” she nodded, stammering; her cheeks flushed “It was…, a little scary…”
George let out a sly chuckle “Ah…, no worries my dear; but…” he paused, his eyes becoming intense “You need to be more careful Cathryn; you shouldn’t be out amongst places like Devil’s Acre; London can be a dangerous place, especially for someone like you”
Days would bleed into weeks – things would follow a pattern, a chilling routine – the Smythe Manor, a place of daunting elegance, had begun to feel like some kind of gilded cage for Cathryn; George, with an unsettling smooth efficiency had woven himself into every fabric of her life.
From breakfast to the late evening; his eyes, always sharp and knowing – he never left her side, he had begun to escort her on walks around the grounds, prevented her from leaving alone, masking his actions with careful words – when he did walk with her, his hand lingered on her lower back, he spoke with a low, constant hum to his voice, it seemed to vibrate into her very bones.
He had begun to subtly undermine her independence – that once fiery spirit, it was slowly dying out, she found herself unable to leave the Smythe Estate; things had suddenly and drastically shifted – she hadn’t realised it yet, he was cloaking his insidious control with a cloak of ‘protectiveness’ a guise of concern “Are you sure you would like to go alone Cathryn; the streets can be so…, unpredictable” he would tell her; his gaze always lingering, he ensured silent offers hat she wouldn’t refuse, beginning to often turn to his offers of companionship – he would begin involving her in his meetings, displaying acts of power and authority, these acts were deliberate – he used displays of authority to undermine that independence and determination as an Anti-Cultist.
Despite it all, her inexperience would always betray her; she fell into the traps – George was no longer just her ‘Host’ after being being rescued by Anne, and essentially becoming an adopted daughter to Anne; she had become dependent to George, he had shifted massively in only weeks; he’d become her protector, her provider…, everything.
George, he knew how to work and twist her naivety perfectly; her desperate need for acceptance, and that growing infatuation she had for him; he played upon them perfectly with a masters touch; her fiery spirit that her parents had nurtured was being extinguished, replaced with a disconcerting docility – she had a craving to please George that gnawed at her from the inside-out.
One evening, as the fire crackled merrily, casting dancing shadows across the room; Cathryn had found George alone in front of the fire, she had been trying to find Anne, unaware that George had sent her away, sending her purposely on a business errand that ensured Cathryn was completely alone and cut off from any interference “Cathryn” George began, noticing her enter the room; his vice like a velvet caress “Come…, sit with me”
She obeyed without question; settling beside him on the plush seat, George soon reached out, his fingers gently tracing the delicate curve of her jaw; it sent a shiver down her spine, she felt that same excitement, she stared at him, a smile gently curved her lips “You are so beautiful” he whispered, leaning in close; his breath warm against her ear “So…, pure”
She felt her heart pounding against her chest; he had drawn closer than she had ever felt him before, his touch felt o intimate; she couldn’t move, couldn’t pull away; no words, no screams could escape; her body simply felt numb; her will subservient to his presence.
He eased her head; she faced him, their eyes locked – his lips were mere inches from hers “Do you know how much you mean to me Cathryn?”
She could only give him an almost imperceptible nod as she stared into his eyes; her throat tight with emotion – then, he kissed her, it was slow; deliberate, it sent a jolt through her, his mouth was warm, inviting – it was not the innocent chaste kiss she had dreamed of with George – there was something else, but, she wasn’t able to work out what it was, her mind just turned blank – her eyes closed.
His hand moved from her jaw to the nape of her neck, he had pulled her closer, she was practically in his lap – she had completely surrendered to the moment, to the intoxicating power he held over her “I want you Cathryn” he murmured against her lips; slowly he eased back, it was once again a deliberate act – he sensed she wanted more “I want you to be mine; completely, and utterly”
The words hung in the air; they were heavy with unspoken implications – but, she couldn’t process anything, she never realised what he was saying; never realised he wasn’t talking about their kiss; she didn’t click that he was talking about making her a possession – his eyes burned into hers “Do you understand me Cathryn; do you understand what I am asking?”
She didn’t; she had no idea – nothing was processing, she had gone completely blank, all she saw was a hunger within is eyes that barely concealed desire, but, her infatuation of him blinded her to the danger; she didn’t know just what George wanted, didn’t know he wanted to ‘own’ her, to shape her into his ideal, or to mould her into whatever he desired – all she could do was nod.
Chapter 4:
20th of December 1889 A.D.
Old Pye Street, London
In the back room of a dilapidated building, a strong scent of bitter herbs and stale brewing concoctions wafted around; Jesse slowly became aware as his eyes began to open, letting out a pained groan as he slowly began to sit up, the wound in his shoulder still throbbed – the pain was insistent, but, at least he was alive.
His eyes slowly scanned the scene; taking notice of two women hovering over his attered clothing, one, meticulously patching up tears and reinforcing seams; Bael – an elderly woman, she held a dark aura about her, her head immediately snapped upwards – her eyes were sharp, almost coal-black that bore into Jesse as she locked onto him “What did you do to get yourself shot Hunter” she demanded, her voice a firm rasp “You seem like you have tangled with a pack of wild dogs”
Jesse winced, both at her tone and he memory of the encounter “Smythe” he answered “George Smythe did this” he told her, his tone flat, he didn’t like meeting her gaze, it was simply unsettling “I wasn’t even aware he was even there”
Bael’s eyes darkened “Smythe” she said her voice still raspy
Jesse furrowed his brow “Cathryn; the Langdon Daughter, she is alive; I saw her, she is under his influence”
Bael’s mouth tightened “That…, is not good; her family is important, her bloodline important” Bael seemed to mull over it carefully, slowly, she began to rise upwards from her crouched position; her movements were almost unnatural – she eased out of the room and into the next room, Jesse shifted his gaze to the second woman; Mabel – she was much younger than Bael, her expression the same as Jesse; they both acknowledged how unsettling Bael was
Then, Bael returned with Clyde in tow – Clyde shuffled into the room, his face etched with worry that he couldn’t quite keep off of his face “Bael has told me about Cathryn; so…, what is out plan?” Clyde leaned against the doorway, a silent plea present in his eyes, he was part of the machine that had nearly died out in 1872 – a ‘Hunter’ that had nearly lost his way entirely
Jesse sat up straighter, ignoring a spike of pain in his shoulder “We need to get her away from Smythe; before he can solidify his grip, he will abuse her; he is a predator” he paused “I have witnessed him before; his treatment of women he worked into servitude to his criminal empire within London’s underground, some of those…, ladies of the night…, work that life to provide information to him…, we need to get her free before he completely corrupts her to the side of the Imperium”
21st of December, 1889 AD
The Smythe Estate
The day dawned with a crisp, hopeful brightness; a layer of snow coated the grounds of the Smythe Estate and inside, a sense of delighted anticipation hung in the air – it was Cathryn’s eighteenth birthday, and Anne had gone to great length to make the day feel special – she had been purposeful in setting up decorations, organising staff within the Manor to assist in preparing a cake that was intricately decorated, and now, sat on the dining table.
Cathryn, dressed in simple, but elegant gown, sparkled with excitement – she had been so busy trying to please Goerge, she had barely even registered it was even her birthday.
“Happy birthday my darling” Anne said with excitement, a warm smile gracing her lips as she embraced Cathryn in a warm hug “Eighteen; Those years have flown by so fast…”
Cathryn smiled letting a laugh escape – it was a genuine, joyful sound that hadn’t been heard for a long time “Indeed…, things have gone by so quickly; when you came and found me I was only fourteen…, I am glad you did find me though”
Anne cupped Cathryn’s face gently “Your Mother and Father would be proud of you”
The day would pass by like a whirlwind; presents and shared memories, Anne recounted some of their stories since bringing her to the Estate; her voice filled with affection; Cathryn in turn felt overwhelming gratitude for the woman who had given her a home – she had become a mother to her
As the evening approached; Cathryn had retreated to her bedroom to prepare for bed; standing in front of her mirror as she brushed her hair; her movements were slow and deliberate, lost in thought – she was unable to shake the memory of George’s kiss, his words, that hungry gaze – she felt a strange sense of fear present, but, she also craved his attention; his touch.
Chapter 5
As Cathryn stood silently, distracted by her thoughts; a shiver down her spine suddenly brought her back to reality, she became startled when a presence seemed to just materialise behind her; a familiar scent sandalwood and something else…, something metallic – it filled the air around her, she never even heard him enter the room.
He simply stood silently, the firelight casting long dancing shadows across the walls “George” Cathryn whispered; her voice barely even audible
He didn’t respond; he just stepped forwards, his arms encircling her waist, his touch was surprising gently – almost reverent, she just stood still in his embrace; finally the silence was broken “Do you know how much I adore you Cathryn?” he murmured; his breath warm against her neck; slowly, his hands eased up along her body, away from her waist towards her shoulders, tracing his fingers lightly that caused Cathryn to shiver – finally, his fingers traced the delicate line of her collarbone.
She found herself unable to speak – she just nodded her head, her heart pounding against her chest, there was something akin to screaming in the back of her mind, as if something was warning her that what was going on was wrong – then, there was a light kiss against the back of her neck – her mind was blank, she couldn’t concentrate, and then there was his touch – it was simply hypnotic to her, she’d become trapped…, subservient to his presence, her mind clouded by a dangerous fascination and infatuation “Tell me Cathryn” he whispered, his voice low, becoming hypnotic “How much do you want to please me?”
The question hung in the air; it was heavy with unspoken implications – but, she answered without thinking “I would do anything” she said; though, the words tasted like ash
A predatory grin spread across his face; a flash of teeth within the dim light “Anything?” he repeated; his voice was laced with satisfaction “Even marrying me?”
He had phrased it like a question – a subtle manipulation designed to give her the illusion of choice; but, in is eyes, it wasn’t a question; it was a command – Cathryn felt her throat tighten with fear; but she couldn’t bring herself to refuse, she couldn’t say ‘no’ – she felt a sudden feeling of terror, but she wanted to hold onto the desperate, fragile illusion of his affection.
“Yes” she whispered, her voice trembling “I will marry you”
His arms tightened around her; squeezing her “Good girl” he purred; his voice dripping with possessiveness “You have made me very happy” he released her abruptly; his gaze lingering on her “Now; get some rest, I will begin making the arrangements immediately”
He turned; walked towards the door, his movements fluid and graceful; he paused at the threshold, casting one last, lingering look at her “Sleep well my fear” he said; there was a hint of menace in his tone “And remember; you are mine now; completely, and utterly”
Then, he was gone; she was left alone in the silence of her room, she felt herself beginning to tremble – there was a sense of fear that started to overwhelm her; she didn’t even acknowledge her own movements, she moved almost ‘robotically’ as she went to the bed, all her actions suddenly devoid of any actual intention, she was just ‘moving’ – she was no longer even present in her own mind.
As the room descended into darkness; a strange, translucent figure stood by the window; her waist-length black like some kind of silken waterfall; her violet eyes locked onto Cathryn’s shadowy form as she laid in bed, there was a gentle, subtle shake of the woman’s head – her eyes held a look of disappointment as they observed Cathryn.
Slowly, the figure seem to dissipate entirely, the room eerily silent as Cathryn led now alone uncertain of what the future held for her.
Written By: Westley H.
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