The Coming From the Shadows Series
Content Warning: The following Content contains violent story elements, please be cautious if you proceed with reading this Story
Related Content / Previous Content:
- C.F.T.S /The Imperium Chronicles A Daughter’s Vengeful Anger – Bloodlines and Betrayals: The Rise of the Anti-Imperium
C.F.T.S
The Imperium Chronicles:
Twisted Loyalties
Background:
Since April, the Anti-Imperium Group – the ‘Hunters’ had been striking against their Cultist enemy; one of the more powerful voices of the Imperium; The Cult of the Minotaur, but not only did their focus fall on Imperium Cultist groups; but at a variety of their explorative projects in search of various Temple’s in a hope of discovering an Ancient Prison were their ‘Dark Master’ had been sealed away.
Cathryn, the sole survivor of the Hunter’s Purge from 1872 – the year of Cathryn’s birth, left her carrying a legacy alone against the Imperium.
Cathryn had tracked a potential Temple within the mine, setting off a chain of events, leading to an ambush resulting in her fractured ribs and concussion, but would be rescued by her youngest twin-daughter; Lydia and a British Soldier; Thomas who had joined the Anti-Imperium Hunters due to his fascination and growing romantic inclination towards Lydia.
Lydia, who had been born and initially raised within a Cultist environment for the first 15 Years from 1890 to 1905 of her life, forced to observe her father’s cruelty – from Physical, Mental to Sexual Violence against her mother Cathryn, and experiencing Animal Torture as part of her Cultist Upbringing intent to desensitize her, with her own brush with near-assault in Italy – the discovery of Thomas having feelings for her brought immediate confusion, her only experiences of such things had often been Male-Dominance that she distrusted and often fought back against after her evolution from a ‘Timid Child’ to a ‘Human Weapon’.
Thomas’ revelation though, after all of his past rescues; Egypt and Burma had broken though that hardened exterior, and with Thomas’ unusual approach – letting her take the lead to feel safe, to be in control, broke all of the existing belief she had, after her first kiss it would lead to an Emotional Breakdown.
It would be her mother who Lydia would turn to for help – Cathryn, upon waking would provide advise while also seeking to ensure Thomas’ true intentions, Thomas would however prove himself not only to Cathryn, but to Lydia which Cathryn herself would settle Lydia’s ever-growing tension with revelations of what she had learnt.
In May, after tentative exploring emotions amongst organising, it would be after a relocation from Kirkland to an Old Dilapidated Farm East of Lancaster, which would be discovered to have been the very place Cathryn had been born during the 1872 Purge – on that farm, Lydia’s growing relationship would enter new territory as she began learning to put names to her feelings, and when Thomas tested the waters by initiating an intimate kiss, Lydia, while she would momentarily freeze, would respond with as much eagerness as Thomas – but, this vulnerability left them open when the Cultists, under the Leadership of Sinclair disobeyed George Smythe’s commands, attacking the Farm early, the ambush discovering the two in their intimate moment allowed them to take Lydia by surprise, shooting her in the back of the shoulder forcing Thomas into a protective position utilizing skills acquired from his Boer War Experience.
The Hunter’s would escape and relocation at an Abandoned Mill on the very outskirts of Lancaster, where reorganising began once again.
Introduction:
As June of 1910 unfurled across Lancashire – each day heralded a renewed effort, Cathryn’s leadership; with her recovery oversaw operations, sending Thomas, Elizabeth, Miquel and Damir on missions to lead the efforts, while Norina and Erin were put in charge of recovering supplies, and Xian, despite the tension he brought provided an extra security for their new Safehouse.
Thomas – a British Soldier and Boer Veteran, a man with imposing height, dark hair and blue eyes who would often wear a wide-brimmed slouch-hat and his typical heavy jacket, had undertaken many of Cathryn’s requests while Lydia was recovering – using his rifle training to deal with targets in woodlands and to ensure nothing would be found.
Elizabeth – the Older twin Daughter of Cathryn; a woman who had, unlike Lydia’s stoicism, developed a Cold, Sadistic and Detached approach to life due to her role as her father’s once ‘Loyal-Daughter’ before she joined her Mother and Sister against the Imperium, though she was the physical female embodiment of her father; sharing the same Dark-Blonde hair which she would often tie back to maintain a practical bun – and her Icy-Blue Eyes.
Elizabeth, unlike Lydia had developed a preference for Diplomatic approaches, and used her experiences of learning from her father and his ‘Wealthy Aristocratic’ teachings to their advantage, though she had experienced a shift in her attitude with regards to Miquel – the Kenyan Born soldier, and comrade of Thomas who had joined Cathryn’s group.
With so much activity though, Lydia felt trapped being unable to fight; with the onset of June, her arm, while still severely painful, was movable, she had begun taking up easy practise, but she desperately wanted to take action alongside everyone else.
One of those days finally came; she discovered a potential Scout she could strike at; an Easy Target, alone and wouldn’t be too much of a struggle to acquire information – she resolved to take that mission alone.
Tying her Long Dark-Raven Hair back into a loose bun, she had a momentary struggle with the angle on her left arm, but she persevered; her Silvery-Grey eyes filled with fiery determination; collecting her Jacket, she pulled it on slowly pulling her worn, but trusted boots; tying the laces around at the ankle to secure them tightly.
She then finally made her way to collect her bag; lifting it and putting its strap over onto her right shoulder, letting the bag hang down along her left hip; the weight was much heavier though than what it should be due to the addition of a Jian Sword being tied to the bag itself, subtly swaying with her movement as she got herself moving.
When she left; her short, slender and lean frame moved with the quiet grace of a predator – she knew her intended targets location, she would make sure she reached it as early as possible to ensure she can intercept, though; she fails to tell anyone of her intention – that last thing mentioned to anyone would be Thomas regarding her shoulder still being sore.
Chapter 1:
A Few Days Earlier
Heysham, Lancashire
Within the opulent confines of the Cultist Heysham Bureau; the air was heavy, oppressive – George had grown tired of his estranged wife’s continued interruptions and hindering-actions, such skills had once proven valuable for him, he had originally used them to eliminate rivals, providing false information that enabled Cathryn in her Naivety and Youth during the years of 1887 to 1889, to trike at the Imperium.
The truth though; it solidified George’s power, and he once he believed he had no use of those skills, had attempted to force her subservience.
His actions had almost worked – he had nearly broken Cathryn as a Domestic Slave, but Lydia; she had been the spark, that innocent child who despite every effort George made, would never leave Cathryn’s side, unlike how Elizabeth had, and those spark had evolved since 1906 as direct opposition to him and the Imperium.
As he sat at his desk; fingers steepled together with a barely-contained anger, his cold, Icy-Blue eyes swept over to Edward and Joséphine “Cathryn’s group have become bolder” her rasped, his voice a deep but low growl which seemed to vibrate through the stone “Their strikes have begun hindering our operations”
Edward, a gaunt, almost cadaverous man with a cruel flicker within his gaze simply nodded – it was a silent echo of his wife more overt predatory grin; Joséphine MacQuoid, her dark eyes gleamed with a manic spark as she ran her delicate fingers over the Bowie Knife she was holding – it was a promise of violence “Their audacity is tiresome Smythe” Edward finally drawled, his accent heavy indicating his origin of the more rugged Highlands “We should show them the folly of their rebellion”
George leaned forwards, his hands now pressing flat against the rough-hewn table “Indeed, I want a message sent to that Estranged Wife of mine; that we will no longer tolerate…” he paused for a brief moment “You, Edward, you will oversee it; I want the message loud and clear, if you instead capture the entire group; bring them to me, I know your penchant for violence, but I have my own intentions I wish to make clear to Cathryn and those daughters of ours”
Edward and Joséphine exchanged looks – they knew George’s depravity, it could potentially rival them, though, they wanted to overshadow George, to take an imaginary title that George seemed to hold; this opportunity provided to them created the same moment of thought for them, a moment of depraved understanding as Edward shifted his gaze back “Consider it done” with a curt nod and dark grin he gestured for Joséphine who displayed a sadistic glee as she turned to leave
Present Date
Within the dense woodland along the River Lune, Lydia ‘s small stature and training enabled her to move like a wraith amongst the undergrowth, her senses on high alert to every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves; as the morning sun dappled through the canopy, it painted shifting patterns across the forest floor, Lydia however was focused – she needed to do something, to play her part, and the Scout would prove a simple enough task, she wouldn’t need to really worry about anything beyond information.
When she had picked up the trail, she manoeuvred with graceful silent movements, as she stalked the Scout’s direction.
She knew though that something wasn’t quite right; the signs were evident, the cautious movements could be noted with subtle disturbances here and there, as if someone stopped to search around – not typical behaviour of someone who would have felt safety – and as far as Lydia remembered, the information at the safehouse indicated that the Scout was taking a direction that was meant to ensure his safety.
She heard him before she saw him – a faint splash, the heavy tread of ill-suited boots on the muddy bank; he emerged from the thicket, a bulky figure in a long coat, head swivelling, eyes darting nervously; he was carrying a crude-looking satchel and a short wooden club; it was clear the scout was no fighter – it would prove an easier target than she even realised which created a sense of confusion for her.
The target was too easy – it gave her a moments pause, she shifted her eyes; something wasn’t right, she felt it, but she also couldn’t abandon her goal; a subtle whispering did attempt to dissuade her intent, ultimately, she decided to pursue.
Chapter 2:
Lancaster, Lancashire
Within the confines of Lancaster, Elizabeth had been tasked by her mother to maintain an observation over Cultist activities, the recent information regarding Scout movements had sparked curiosity, specifically due to the three distinct positions being intended – as she stood silently by a table, her head turned in the direction of the window, she watched the subtle peacefulness of everyday life outside, she found it rather curious, during her time as the ‘Loyal Daughter’ and learning from the Wealth-Upbringing she benefited from, she had spent time amongst people in Public, so often it had been only amongst those affiliated to the Cult of the Minotaur or its associated Criminal undercurrent.
It was during this peaceful observation Elizabeth was questioning what life would have been like had she not tried to prevent Lydia’s and their Older Half-Brother; William’s escape that night in 1905 when she had ratted them out to their father, the consequences of her betrayal leading to not just the dispersal, but the destruction of the Smythe Estate at William’s hand when he set it on fire, the life outside the window in those streets seemed so much different from her own, less…., isolated, she was aware of poverty and restrictions; yet observing; it looked so much more free.
Miquel; who stood beside her – his the height difference had become a noticeable shift for Elizabeth who had been so use to being visibly bigger and intimidating, now; she felt as her sister did; small, Miquel noticed the distant look in her eyes as he organised things, he had been working very diligently – normally, Elizabeth would have been alone; though their recent closeness had pivoted that usual direction, she had requested, though with hesitancy, to bring Miquel with her.
As he watched her; he couldn’t help but smile, moving slowly to not startle her, gently stroking her arm to draw her attention “Elizabeth?”
“Hmm?” She turned to look at him “I’m fine, just thinking how different things are out there” she let her lips curve into a genuine, if rather saddened smile
Miquel gave a slow nod but smiled; he then gestured to the notes and paperwork he’d been organising, notes of interest from their observation the acquisition of supplies to ease Norina and Erin’s Supply-Runs; though he did recognise she wasn’t really that interested, she still seemed distracted “How about, I take you to experience that” his lips tugged into a slight grin as he watched her
Elizabeth looked at him with some surprise, giving a quick affirmative nod “I’d like that” Miquel gave a wink as he returned back to the table, Elizabeth felt a sense of giddiness at the prospect before resolving to resume their work.
After a moment, Miquel, who had become focused on something with a great intensity seemed to realise something very important; reaching over he gently found Elizabeth’s sleeve to tug on it “Elizabeth” he said, his voice low to draw her attention “I’ve deciphered this message; it confirms yours and Cathryn’s suspicion, Two Cultists from a failed expedition in Mauritania, a British man and French Woman, they’ve been seen amongst small detachments of Cultists operating around the woodlands along this river here….” He gestured to the map carefully, tracing his fingers along the River Lune, he had marked various settlements during his deciphering of the message
Elizabeth’s features softened as she looked at Miquel, listening to him speak which elicits a sly grin curving her lips; she found his Kenyan accent rather alluring since they’d begun working together more actively – though, her eyes flared suddenly with awareness, a flicker of something akin to alarm “Edward and Joséphine” she whispered, the names tasting like ash on her tongue
Miquel let his eyebrow raise with confusion, he was unfamiliar with most of all of this Anti-Imperium work he had joined into, originally joining the group due to his close friendship with Thomas, and his effort to support Thomas in his attempt to get closer Lydia – he had improved and even found reason to commit more beyond his original reason, just like Thomas had found more of a reason to commit – he frowned as he looked at Elizabeth “Who…, who are they who are spoken with such a particular kind of dread?”
Elizabeth looked at him carefully; her expression unusually worried “Edward MacQuoid; he is a lunatic, a Cultist whose extreme methods could possibly rival my father, and that depravity…, it is matched by his wife; Joséphine….” A rare shiver traced its way down Elizabeth’s spine “Joséphine is usually loyal to the French Cultists ‘The Roosters’ but, she has often proven too much for them, she can make other Cultists blanch with her sadism, and to put it simply; they are a pair of predators Miquel…, they revel in suffering, they enjoy it purely for the sake of fun…, enjoyment…” she shook her head
A cold dread now settled in Miquel’s stomach – he knew the danger the Cult of the Minotaur possessed, but the casual cruelty in Elizabeth’s description created a fresh fear for him “We should get back to the safehouse, warn Cathryn”
Elizabeth gave a quick nod “Let’s get going then eh Soldier” she shifted forwards, grabbing his wrist to pull him as she made for the door.
Along the River Lune
The air along the riverbank was suddenly rent with the clash of steel as Lydia struck; drawing her Jian free, she surged forwards from the cover of foliage, her light movements barely even alerted the Scout until she was near-enough atop of him forcing the man into a scramble to defend himself – he barely had room to move to the side, his feet splashing into the edge of the river nearly causing him to slip as Lydia came forwards towards him.
Wielding her sword within her right hand, she was less restricted but, her movements still pulled at the shoulder injury which only pushed her; rotating around to avoid a wing of the Scout’s club, she was quick to spin her sword into a spinning motion behind her back – the movement itself catching the Cultist partially as she came around with completing her spin, but as she moved her sword towards the front again, she snapped her arm in a fast, precise swing, using its momentum to strike the club, sending it flying.
Desperate, the Scout made a move to surge forwards at her, pulling a knife from his belt – Lydia jerked back before swinging her sword upwards barely stopping him before she followed up with a quick kick, pivoting on her supporting left leg and kicking out with her right intent on creating a little more distance – when he still persisted to close the distance, she grew tired of the prolonging of the engagement, moving her left hand within the confines of her jacket, collecting a small, fragile egg within the interior pocket; its shell breaking between her slender fingers – within the closing seconds of his approach, Lydia pulled her arm free and flung her hand forwards – within the light, glistening tiny shards of grounded glass struck the man’s eyes, causing an immediate halt to the fight as he began frantically rubbing his eyes, dropping down near the bang of the river to desperately clear out his eyes.
Chapter 3:
With the Scout barely managing to get his vision back in his left eye, he found Lydia stood over him, her Lydia’s Jian’s tip poised at the edge of his throat “Where are you going; what information do you carry?” her voice, despite its calmness, despite how softly she spoke carried a threatening tone, her eyes locked onto him like a predator
The Scout, a pathetic figure merely whimpered, eyes were wide with terror “I…, I don’t know…, I…, I was just given the satchel and given my instructions on where to go…”
Before anything further could be stammered out; a different sound reached Lydia’s ears, a distinct crunching of leaves and breaking of twigs, a sound that was too deliberate to be an animal, she moved immediately, twisting around and moving her left hand into her jacket to grab a throwing knife from one of the protective pouches within the confines of her jacket as she span around she threw it – but the movement, despite her lethal intent caused her to move out of instinct, forgetting her injury.
There was an explosion of pain, a jolt that caused her to gasp as he flung the knife, her muscles seemed to seize as the knife flew completely off-mark, embedding itself harmlessly into a truck of a distant oak.
At that precise moment; Edward exploded from the tree line, a blur of motion – he tackled Lydia with brutal force, a heavy impact that sent a fresh, agonizing jolt through Lydia’s already screaming shoulder – the force of the blow combined with the uneven bank sent Lydia careening backwards dropping her sword as she slipped backwards into the river.
The Scout scrambled the very moment Lydia came under threat; as she went backwards without control, crashing into the shallow water of the river bank, splashing water up around her, soaking her as she slid into a wave of icy water that simply drenched her, her right hand instinctively moving backwards seeking purchase as her lower back hit the slick muddy bank as water seeped around her taking her breath – as her eyes locked onto Edward, his positioning, along with her own seemed to click to what happened in Italy.
The encounter along the Ticino River – it was the same, the night of the ambush a year earlier; her breath hitched; it wasn’t Edward she believed she was staring at, but Albert – the day he had tried to physical violate her in the midst of that ambush, during their duel along the river.
The weight of the body above her, the roaming hands – she couldn’t breath as the memory slammed into her like a physical blow, her muscles which had only moments ago been primed for combat, seized into a catatonic stillness.
Her Silvery-Grey eyes glazed over foxed forwards towards Edward, she tried to push herself up…, to fight, but her body wouldn’t move, she felt trapped; the last time, she had only escaped in a frantic primal panic, this time, she did not respond at all; her body had locked up, she felt as though she was trapped in a repeat of Albert’s action to violate her – she was propped up slightly by her elbow, partially within the cold river water and half still along the muddy bank.
Edward moved, slowly rising up as Joséphine joined him; the two standing over Lydia with a mixture of confusion and perverse fascination; Edward looked to his wife as he drew his Wembley revolver “This looks familiar” his voice was like a low rumble “She’s…, not fighting…” his tone shift made clear his confusion despite recognision of Lydia’s state being familiar, though he was unable to recall which specific memory that made it so familiar as he looked to Joséphine
The Cultist scout, now having managed to scramble back to his feet, pointed a trembling finger at Lydia “Why…, why do you just finish her while she is…, like that?”
Joséphine though, her face was illuminated with a sickening grin as she stepped closer, the Bowie Knife glinting, she ignored the Scout’s plea “No…, No, no my dear fool” she purred, her French accent thick with cruel amusement, her eyes sharp and predatory, they raked over Lydia’s frozen form “There is no need…, don’t you see?” she knelt down, a grotesque parody of concern, her gaze locked on Lydia’s unseeing eyes “This…, is far more interesting” she leaned in, a sadistic curiosity twisting her features “This isn’t shock; this is a fragment…, a broken piece; some deep violation, she isn’t just defeated Edward; she’s reliving something…, severe…”
Edward observed carefully as Joséphine took the moment to pluck the throwing knives visible within the open jacket; and as she rose up, brought Lydia’s bag with her.
She had purposely ensured Lydia was unarmed, that frozen state had served a far greater purpose than they would allow to let go; as Joséphine looked to Edward – they exchanged glances, a silent negotiation between the two depraved souls, the opportunity presented by Lydia’s catatonic state was too rich to ignore.
This wasn’t just a capture – it was a psychological victory, and a chance to inflict a far different kind of torment “She’s a prize Edward” she whispered to her husband; her voice was a low throaty purr “A ‘Hunter’ who’s reputation as one of the most stealth…, and the Daughter of Cathryn…, and broken like this…., oh…, oh the possibilities”
Edward, equally as captivated by the sight of Lydia’s vulnerability responded with gleaming eyes “Is she fully disarmed?; we can’t leave anything to chance” he gestured “I suggest you pat her down; it seemed to be me that triggered this state of panic…, it might make her more likely to fight back”
Joséphine maintained that sickening grin as she moved down again, she let her hands roam briefly as she gently gave a pat down – it was clear Lydia was desperately wanting to react, her body though simply remained rigid, she was seemingly lost to an internal nightmare – once Joséphine had finally finished, she looked to Edward.
“To George…, or…., for our own amusement?” There wasn’t really a question in his voice, it was a suggestion…, an invitation
Joséphine’s grin widened, a flash of white teeth in her cruel face “Why Edward, what a question; George shall have his victory, but this…, this is ours; we keep her”
The Cultist Scout who’d been observing with a mix of fear and confusion realised what they were intending was not something George would want, recognising that Lydia is one of the three targets George was seeking “But…, George specifically…”
Before the Scout could finish; Edward raised the revolver, pulling the trigger before he was able to react – the loud bang echoed out through the woodland startling wildlife, his eyes though had returned to Lydia as a dull thud hit the ground with a confused gurgling sound that was now actively being ignored – the only other sound that broke through the silence was Lydia’s ragged breathing.
Edward’s eyes darkened, anticipating a sadistic joy ahead “Let’s go and begin our game” Joséphine, equally eager moved watched as he seized Lydia and yanking her upwards, when Lydia made an effort to resists, he simply twisted her arm up her back, purposely pushing the pressure on the same arm already searing with pain causing her to let out an agonising scream that sent birds into flight – they intended to move her, and she was faced with very little choice but to comply due to her panicked state.
Chapter 4:
Within the gnarled embrace of the bushes a solitary figure had stood, observing with a growing curiosity, he’d found a perfect vantage point for the observation, and was an unseen witness to the catatonic freeze Lydia had found herself in resulting in her capture.
Despite the muscles screaming to take action – he had to refrain, he had orders, he was to observe and report, not to interfere, he stood motionless, he could have sworn he’d heard Lydia’s whimpering as she was taken, the figure shifted awkwardly, disappointed in his own inaction, he felt it was a failure to stand by, but, there was a large plan taking place, as long as Lydia remained alive, something could be done, slowly, he retreated back into the shadows, he needed to report back to his group.
At the abandoned mill; Erin – the American Former-Cultist, she was a woman that simply made the room eerie, her Long Black Hair cascaded downward past the centre of her back, it starkly contrasted with her pale, ghostly complexion – then, there was her emerald green eyes that usually maintained an intense look – but, since developing her relationship with Norina – Cathryn’s adopted younger daughter – her featured had softened while around Norina.
Noria, two years Elizabeth and Lydia’s junior – possessed an eerie twin-like similarity to Lydia and Cathryn, her hair, long and Raven-Dark, with Silvery-Grey Eyes; the two stood overlooking some supplies, their attention focused though Erin was purposely teasing Norina when she could.
At the main table where all the planning was undertaken, Cathryn was stood; she was leaning over, looking at a map; her long hair had fallen forwards as she gazed intensely at the map, beside her was Thomas and the Manchurian national from the Great Qing; Xian – he had barely spoken, only offered advise which was, at present ignored due to his recent actions causing so much tension and being the direct reason for the relocation from Kirkland to the Dilapidated Farm and now, to the Abandoned Mill.
Sat nearby on some crates, watching the interaction between Erin and Norina sat the ex-Serbian soldier; Damir, he couldn’t help but smile at their loving interactions despite efforts to keep up with being busy.
Over in the corner, distant from everyone else, was the very man that had trained both Cathryn and Lydia; he dressed as a Tibetan Monk, and was known simply as ‘The Monk’ he at present was sat cross-legged on the ground, his eyes closed, appearing to not be paying attention to anything – yet he was fully attuned to his surroundings, even shifting his head subtly, his eyes remaining closed as anticipating the arrival of Elizabeth and Miquel as they crashed through the door.
“Mother!” Elizabeth’s voice was sharp; it drew attention immediately “Edward and Joséphine are here in Lancashire; they are setting a trap”
Cathryn’s gaze locked to her oldest daughter; her expression hardening “A Trap…, where?”
“The woodlands along the river” Miquel interjected, his voice urgent “I had deciphered the information this morning; they are moving scouts around for some kind of operation, I believe it may be the same Scouting mission that was being taken as a potential target”
Cathryn’s gaze swept around a moment, her keen eyes counting, her brow furrowed “Where is Lydia?” she questioned, a subtle shift in her tone, there was a growing hint of concern in her voice
“I believe she went to rest” Thomas looked at Cathryn; she looked at him with a distant look present in her face “She was complaining about her arm, I told her I would go and check on her after we was finished with planning.., do you want me to check on her?”
Cathryn’s eyes widened a little “Lydia would have made an appearance…, she doesn’t rest for long periods, she will train even if she struggles, she won’t stop…, you know that” her calm voice gave way to a terrified realisation as her eyes showed visible dread “Oh no…, she wouldn’t…”
“That Shăguā” Xian snapped, his tone sharp “She’s gone after the damn scout” his frustration hinted to him believing they had somehow lost some kind of advantage, ignoring the revelation of a potential trap, the uncaring nature immediately drew Cathryn’s ire
“This is because of you!” she snapped, twisting and shoving Xian aside as she rushed towards the door Elizabeth had just come through; it led to an instant action as everyone followed Cathryn’s wake, outside, though only Thomas, Elizabeth and Miquel would pursue with Cathryn shouting for Erin to keep Norina safe in their absence.
Norina stood close to Erin, shifting a moment to twist and look up – Erin offered a soft smile as she gave a gentle embrace “Do not worry My Little Dove; they’ll find your sister”
The Abandoned Mill fell into an eerie silence.
As the group moved down along the dirt-road, Cathryn began directing “Miquel, Elizabeth; I want you two to take that direction and search the possible spot where the First Scout was intended to be located” she instructed giving a gesture towards her right to explore along a route leading towards Halton “It might be unlikely, but if she went that way at all it might lead her to somewhere safer if she realised a trap was being set up”
Elizabeth gave a quick nod, quickly pulling Miquel as she set off in the direction given, Miquel giving a quick nod to Thomas as he followed Elizabeth
“Damir…, you and Xian take the spot along the River where the Second Scout is meant to have been located” Cathryn then shifted her attention to Thomas and gestured “We’re travelling along the River too, towards Hornby; we’ll check where the third Scout position is meant to be”
Thomas gave a quick nod as he and Cathryn set off, moving into a jog to speed their movements, they knew the urgency; Xian, he narrowed his eyes a moment before following Damir, questioning why Cathryn would word things as if he was needing to follow Damir’s command – he follows Damir regardless, but it still irritated him
Over the next several hours; the group disperses out to search their assigned locations; it was by the darkening of the sky as evening began to descend that Cathryn and Thomas, walking along the winding banks of the River take notice of subtle signs indicating Lydia’s presence – the careful positioning to avoid clear signs of her presence, while initially missed by Thomas, Cathryn recognises them causing her to stop which draws Thomas’ attention with a momentary confusion “She came this way” Cathryn says without looking at him, her direction now following the subtle indicators.
They eventually came across a secluded alcove close to the River bank – they noticed there was signs of a struggle, or what was an effort of something fighting before falling, as they moved they spotted the dark shape sprawled and partially submerged at the edge of the river as if purposely pushed, a man in crude working class attire.
Thomas moved forward pulling the body back and kneeling down, he noticed the neck wound, a clear indicator of a skilled, swift strike by someone, it also made it obvious it wasn’t Lydia as both Cathryn and Thomas knew Lydia’s tendency was to strike her opponents with her Jian Sword as if it was a spear, not a hack and slash movement, Lydia had refined her movements to match her small slender frame to use agility and precision to give her the advantage “This isn’t Lydia’s handiwork” Thomas murmured
Cathryn slowly moved around, her eyes scanning their surroundings but landing on the sword thrown off to the side when Lydia had let go during her fall backwards after the ambush, as she moved nearer, she noted the fallen throwing knives scattered along the bank “She’s been disarmed” she said, her voice was steady but held a raw tremor – her daughter was vulnerable, but as she inspected the scene carefully, it became clear there wasn’t any fight beyond someone falling which she connected as being Lydia to the imprint within the muddy bank and numerous footprints marking the spot “Edward and his wife” she shifted her gaze, scanning the surrounding area for signs of movement before she moved to collect the Jian Sword from the ground, without its scabbard she decided to tie it securely against her own bag, positioning it in a way it won’t interfere with her Kukri Knife if she requires a weapon
Thomas gazed about carefully; his own training in the army had given him a variety of skills that were coming in handy for tracking, though when it came to Lydia; he understood why she was able to detect Lydia’s lighter movements, she had trained Lydia – both of them however recognised the signs of where Lydia was being taken when they spotted the break in the foliage “That way” he said
Chapter 5:
Whittington, Lancashire
At a small cottage in Whittington – a picture of a rather rustic serenity paled to what was inside; the inside was a chilling tableau; inside, Lydia had not only locked from her catatonic state, but the throbbing constant pain that radiated in her arm had left her nauseated, she felt the wound on the back of her shoulder wet, it was not simply from her wet clothing either – it felt warm.
Edward had not simply left it at twisting her arm during her initial attempt to resist; he had purposely struck the back of her shoulder upon discovering exactly what was causing her shoulder so much pain, he had taken a sadistic joy in her desperate screams that had left her throat raw – now, as she lay on the floor in soaked clothing her body was just a canvas of pain.
Her mind…, that steely façade was simply a shattered mirror reflecting the endless fragments of terror, she simply stared forwards, she hadn’t licked onto the reflection of herself staring bac at her; she simply felt trapped within a never-ending nightmare.
Edward looked towards Joséphine, delegating what was to happen next; specifically instructing for Joséphine to prepare Lydia, to soften her up and make her more pliable; making a passing comment that if Lydia could fight back, he’d be more excited by a potential thrill; once Joséphine had nodded her confirmation, her sinister grin widening at the possibilities Edward took his leave, he recognised the need to inform George of their ‘Success’ and avoid a potential discovery of Lydia still being alive, in doing so, he had left Lydia completely alone with Joséphine.
Joséphine had spent that last hour since their arrival mostly speaking with a sadistic purr to Lydia, regardless of if she would even acknowledge her; she was intent on setting Lydia up for her intended ‘Game’ – she had no other desire than to play with the fertile ground of Lydia’s mental state with her own brand of sadism.
Caton, Lancashire
At a rather ordinary looking building within the centre of Caton, an operation was underway by a group of men; various boxes and containers were stacked, with tables covered with maps and planning tools, at the central table one figure stood with his attention on a map of the region, there was various markings along not only the River Lune, but at Whittington, Hornby, Lancaster, Heysham, Knott End-Of-Sea and further to the north; Windermere.
The man; dressed in an usual way, stood out amongst the group, most of which wore typical everyday wear; while he, he wore a Multi-layered Robe, pants that were dark and appeared to be made of a heavy fabric, along with sturdy boots that reached above the ankle.
He wore a hood that was keeping his face obscured and a strange Chest Armour that appeared to be experimental; across his back was a Kodachi Short-Sword, at the back of his waist was a Kukri Knife positioned just above a holstered Mauser C96.
As he examined the map, the door flung open drawing his attention to see one of his ‘Observers’; John – part of a team that was labelled on the map along the River Lune as ‘The Eyes’ “Astor” he breathed, clearly out of breath as he rushed over towards the table, the robed man barely moved, he stood unnervingly still as he remained quiet, his usual gesture for those working with him to proceed “They’ve got her”
An older man stood opposite of Astor shifted his gaze from the table towards John with an intense stare “Lydia?” he questioned, John nodded quickly, the older man shifted his gaze to Astor carefully “How do we proceed?”
Taking a deep breath in, he placed his finger towards Whittington “I’ll go after her” his voice was a low rumble,
“Alone?” the older man raised his eyebrow, he knew Astor usually took on tasks by himself, but usually, it was when he deemed it important, otherwise he’d assign someone he entrusted
“Yes” he answered simply “Lydia is at risk; I can’t allow the ‘Hunters’ to fracture”
“It’s Lydia; she has endured worse than two sadists before” the older man sounded rather surprised by the prospect of her being in danger
“No; she wont resist, she is at risk already” Straightening up, he made a gesture towards the ‘Observer’ that had reported on Lydia’s capture “I want you to collect two horses and travel to Hornby, I suspect you’ll find Cathryn there by morning”
John raised his eyebrow, looking questioningly to the older man before returning his attention to Astor “How do you know that”
“It’s the only location they can go; they will lack information to go any further than Hornby” Astor said simply before taking his leave without another word.
Whittington, Lancashire
Having been making various preparation – Joséphine, with a predatory grace, approached the bag she had originally taken from Lydia, it was worn but well kept, indicating its importance; meticulously, she began removing its content, her fingers long and slender produced the first of many items from within the well organised interior – a small container of emergency medical supplies, with a small glass bottle containing something clearly alcoholic, she doubted its likeliness as a drink, leaning her to conclude it was for medical purposes due to the rest of the items it was with.
Then came other tools; tools that were intended to pick locks, to gain access to usually inaccessible places, a Mortar and Pestle; something she initially found strange but put down to potentially being used for herb crushing, she also discovered unusual eggs which made her eyebrow rise up questioningly, carefully, she laid them out, a connoisseur appreciating art.
Then came an unusually item – a Book, it was a dog-eared copy of something called ‘The Titan’ it confused Joséphine immensely for a moment, she began to scan through its pages, discovering it was about a Passenger ship that sank within icy waters – there was a tremor of understanding as she shifted her gaze, a sparkle within her eyes as she looked towards Lydia for a brief moment and then placed the book down beside the other items
The next item to capture her attention though was something that stood out as a complete oddity – a Puzzle Box of some kind, crafted from what seemed to be wood; Dark with Intricate carvings across its small body, it quickly became clear though; there wasn’t any method to open it, no obvious seam or even a latch.
As she looked at it with growing fascination, she realised something; she had a sudden desire to look away, it was like a warning at the back of her mind telling her to avert her gaze; a primal urge as if the Box was some kind of forbidden object that was demanding respect or fear, her curiosity, a dangerous thing in itself was piqued – it was no mere trinket.
She did comply with the need to look away, putting it to the side to search the remains of the bag, discovering a Revolver that Lydia very rarely used, then, the main object that would become her focus; a journal, clearly old and worn but still used regularly – it became, for Joséphine, the true treasure.
Her fingers traced the worn cover, a slow, possessive gesture, a subtle anticipatory smile; she opened it, her eyes devouring the contents from the first line revealing the first entry from a Five-Year old in 1895, a child learning to write due to its messy effort.
Slowly, Joséphine moved purposely towards a chair near where Lydia was laying on the ground her sadistic grin remaining fixed.
Lydia was yet to gain awareness of exactly what was going to be unleashed on her as was unable to shift or move her body, simply staring forwards, but not acknowledging anything.
Chapter 6:
Down along the River, away from Cathryn and Thomas’ investigation and far removed from Lydia’s current predicament; Xian walked with Damir, unlike Damir who was actively searching, Xian wasn’t – instead, he was simply complaining about it all “This is Lydia all over again” Xian muttered, his tone irritated yet sharp “Headstrong, Reckless…., always pushing too far, believing her prowess is enough to overcome any obstacle…., this solo pursuit was foolish”
Damir, usually one to maintain a reserved and quiet nature – especially when someone like Xian was in his critical moods, finally decides to speak up “Xian, you are forgetting; Lydia’s ‘Recklessness’ stems for a place of deep loyalty, and at more times than usual, desperation; the hostility to show towards her, does not help”
Xian stopped, shifting to look at Damir, his eyes flashing “My hostility; it is concern, for her safety and ours, something you misunderstand considering your military background”
Damir shook his head as he stopped to face Xian “I understand much more than you give me credit for” Damir retorted, holding Xian’s gaze “I understand that Lydia has a good reason not to trust you; you speak of her recklessness, but tell me; why does she refuse your advice…, your training offers, why does she distrust you so intensely”
Damir shifted about as he gestured with an overexaggerated confused shrug “Is it to do with…, your failed rescues?” he questioned “That first one only a month follow Elizabeth and Lydia’s birth of January of 1891, how your actions in trying to ‘rescue’ Cathryn led to her being subject to George’s brutality and ‘Re-Education’…” he pointed to Xian carefully “The thing you caused; or, perhaps we should look to the Failed Assassination attempt in 10-Years ago, when was that…, March…, April…., where your act to kill George resulted in him forcibly separating her from Lydia and Elizabeth for 5-years”
Damir narrowed his gaze as he positioned himself in front of Xian “Lydia has watched as her mother has been Physically beaten, Violated and mentally tortured, a result of your failed interventions” Damir though wasn’t going to let Xian speak, even as Xian’s jaw tightened – he pushed on, his voice growing more angered “And how about more recently; your comments about her incapability, your comments about her being ‘A Teen Girl Swooning over her First Love’ because she is struggling to balance her new emotions that Thomas has gently cultivated and encouraged; those are what drive her, your questions your judgement; she has faced powerlessness all her life, and now you’ve got her questioning herself”
He jabbed Xian in the chest with his finger “It is your cruel remarks, your criticisms that are fuelling her desperate need to prove herself, to take on impossible tasks even with severe injuries” his voice dropped to a low, resonant tone “I have never encountered Women like Cathryn or Lydia; and Lydia, she has more strength than you give her credit for, it takes courage for her to begin even breach a relationship, to let that guard down after a childhood of watching the man who was meant to be a Husband and Father brutalize her mother; and to never experience love, only to finally feel it at 19, that is quiet a profound act of bravery, it isn’t weakness, you mistake her stoic exterior for a lack of feeling, when in truth, it is a shield against the very pain she now risks by caring for someone”
The air crackled with the weight of Damir’s words; Xian, for once had no retort, no means to argue; his face, usually a mask of controlled intensity now held a flicker of uncertainty, a moment of profound silence as he struggled to respond, to react to what Damir just said, the forest seemed to hold its breath; waiting.
Whittington, Lancashire
Within the deceptive warmth of the cottage, a subtle shift had begun to occur within Lydia, the oppressive darkness of her catatonic state, the mental prison she’d found herself trapped within – it began to recede, the physical agony of her arm and shoulder throbbed, ravaging her with a physical sensation, but there was a recognition that her surroundings where not the woodlands or the forest, there was an unfamiliar scent of herbs and her damp clothing, while still chilling her skin causing a subtle shivering, felt a warmth from her new environment; slowly, it was prising open the psychological cage.
She was no longer entirely ‘trapped’ and became acutely aware of a subtle whispering once again at the back of her head that so often accompanied her, specifically in moments of danger – she was yet to realise though that she was awakening into a different nightmare; her eyes, still wide and unfocused now held a flicker of awareness.
Joséphine, ever perceptive had noticed the change instantly – a low, cruel smile bloomed on her lips, she had been reading Lydia’s journal, she had learnt about her life, each detail of pain and misery suffered; including the questioning of life and her desperation for normalcy, a raw desperation to escape the life she is trapped in.
Seeing the glimmer of consciousness, she moved, she moved purposely kneeling down beside her, her voice; a low, melodic purr “Ah…, the Little Bird is waking up” her voice carried a dangerous silken thread, barely above a whisper; her eyes dark and knowing locked with Lydia’s “You have quiet the story to tell, don’t you my fear; such desperate passages from the pleas of a young child begging for her mother’s peace to the yearnings of a young woman craving…, normalcy”
Hearing her journal had been read stirred her emotionally, though still beginning to regain any form of composure, she hesitated in a slight movement – a movement Joséphine recognised as an effort to ‘resist’ to ‘fight’, it caused her to grin.
She shifted her positioning, she purposely pushed Lydia onto her back before moving, positioning herself directly above her, straddling her waist, leaning downwards towards her; it caused a panicked reaction immediately – Lydia’s breath hitched, a faint gasp of pure, unadulterated fear; the usually exterior was already broken, what remained had just completely crumbled – she was terrified, and Joséphine’s voice, a serpent coiling around her soul, trapped her into vulnerabilities that were already raw and exposed, it was clear that the knife was intended to be twisted deeper into that wound.
Joséphine’s sadistic pleasure was clearly reaching a new height of enjoyment, taking a moment, she rested the journal down before reaching slowly and gripping Lydia’s wrists, she repositioned, a movement that draw a sharp yelp of pain as she pinned her arms against the floor above her head, angling her left, already in severe pain into a much more painful angle; she made no effort to halt at that, focusing on binding her wrists before settling back as she sat in her straddle position; licking her lips “Now…., let’s begin” she spoke with a low, melodic purr as she collected the journal one again; she began to read out a passage from the journal “The Monster has visited Mama again; Mummy screams never stop, she is always in pain, I can’t help her, Papa does things to her that I don’t understand, but see it hurts her, he doesn’t stop” there was a pause, as Joséphine watched Lydia’s expression carefully, savouring the horrified expression forming, her gaze looked as though it had become glazed over again “He strikes Mama; the cries never leave my ears; Elizabeth spends so much time with Papa, but doesn’t do anything to help Mama; why doesn’t she help Mama?”
Lydia felt her body tremble as Joséphine read out the passages of a confused child, intending to make her relieve her past; Josephine could feel the trembling beneath her, leaning downwards towards her; her eyes gleamed sadistically “You are weak” she whispered, leaning close enough to speak within Lydia’s ear; her voice a silken purr “A Little Girl trying to fight; so.., so very weak, your physical victories mean little when you can’t escape the ghosts inside your own head”
Chapter 7:
Joséphine remained purposely close, her head drifting directly over Lydia; her nose just barely making contact with Lydia’s as she locked eyes; she recognised beauty, she also recognised innocence; despite the charade that hid Lydia’s true nature, she could see through it.
Lydia stared upwards, her body trembled, she was becoming more and more unnerved by how close Joséphine was to her; she didn’t dare move though, despite how much she wanted too, the throbbing pain in her arm felt almost paralyzing since Edward’s deliberate arm twisting; she could feel her breathing increasing, but also felt Joséphine’s against her face – the uneasiness seemed to stretch.
Moving her hand, Joséphine made a slow, deliberate movement, gently gliding her hand across Lydia’s chest before moving directly to her face, gripping the bottom of her mouth possessively, her thumb rubbed gently over Lydia’s lips; she had been given her instructions, but, she felt an impulse she couldn’t resist, a sly grin curving her lips before she brought her head down in an attempt to kiss her – Lydia jolted, her eyes widened, she had only just breached such a thing with Thomas, and for someone who was holding her captive to make such a move startled her into a panicked retreat; her head instinctively moved, but the tiny gap behind her head offered no space, she simply cracked the back of her head against the floor with a loud bang that echoed out sharply the effort had been far harder than she even realised, her body ceased being rigid and went limp as she left herself in a heavy daze.
Joséphine found herself strangely confused before her sinister grin curved her lips again, gently, she pushed herself upright; gently tapping Lydia’s face “Mon jouet” she purred; when Lydia offered a dazed groan, the paused extended for a moment, as if still calculating something before she resumed her initial efforts, she wouldn’t make any comment of this towards Edward upon his return; instead, she resolved to reading out from Lydia’s journal, mimicking Lydia’s own tone as she began mocking her unfamiliar emotions regarding Thomas – her voice dropped, laden with feigned curiosity that was far more menacing than any shout “Thomas…, he looks at me differently…, my chest gets tight, what is it that I am feeling, I feel confused…, will it hurt me?” Joséphine grinned “Oh.., my dear; what a delightful passage”
With a face alight with sadistic, unholy joy; each word she read, a confession of Lydia’s burgeoning, utterly unfamiliar emotions for Thomas, it was twisted into an instrument of torment; Lydia’s body simply stiffened, her eyes wide with horror that was transcending any physical pain she felt, the confusion, the vulnerability she had felt for Thomas was all laid bare, all savoured by a predator circling her – Joséphine merely grinned, a wide chilling smile that promised an eternity of exquisite suffering
“Stop” was the first word Lydia managed to let escape; it was raw, unfiltered by usual emotional control, her tone was shaken “Please…, please Stop”
Joséphine, believing her smile was already at its edges, found her smile widen, or felt it had as she let a giggle, a sweet, yet terrifying sound escaping her throat “Stop” she repeated, mimicking Lydia’s voice “Please Stop” she repeated; gently placing the journal onto the chair before leaning down towards her again, her hands placed down either side of Lydia’s head “Do you hear your own voice?; you should”
Joséphine could see the shimmering at the edges of Lydia’s eyes; moving her left hand she gently, mockingly, rubbed her thumb against her face “Oh my dear; you have no clue what you are in for, by the time you do, you’ll find yourself begging for deaths embrace, and even then; I won’t let you stop suffering” her voice carried a silken purr, low enough to be barely heard “Shall we begin our game them?”
Elizabeth and Miquel, now forced to rely on a torch to help them search within the darkness, moved with careful grace across the uneven terrain of the woodlands near the River Lune, far from either of Damir and Xian, or Thomas and Cathryn – Miquel was a steady, solid presence, and Elizabeth had begun to acknowledge the strange calming effect his presence provided as they walked.
“She could be anywhere” Miquel whispered, his deep voice a low rumble, respectful of the night’s silence “And these woods…, it’s like they don’t end…”
Elizabeth thought for a moment, slowly nodding, she agreed somewhat “My sister is efficient, if she came this way; there would have been signs”
When they did discover something; it was certainly not a sign of Lydia, but a sign of something else entirely.
Miquel’s boot caught on something soft, yet unyielding – the torch’s weak beam dipped to illuminate a patch of crushed foliage with dark viscous crimson dotted about creating a grotesque depiction, a body sprawled out but yet twisted with indications of dangerous brutality. – the clothing had been rent deep by precise slashes, yet the killing blow had severed the head from the body “Good god” Miquel breathed, the professional soldier in him overriding his revolution as he knelt down, careful not to touch the remains
Elizabeth barely flinched – a remnant of her cruel upbringing as she looked at the display with more curiosity than revolution “Not God; but someone very proficient” she gestured as she knelt down beside Miquel “These wounds…, they are defensive…, someone attacked him with a Sword…, the angle and deepness of the cuts, the strikes at his legs they were intent to cripple not kill…” her eyes narrowed “This was a torture and execution…, not a calm one, but someone letting out their rage”
A slow, cold certainty settled “This wasn’t Lydia”
Miquel looked at her with surprise “The precision…, is like her style…”
“Precision perhaps, but the brutality; Lydia can display that in her attacks, but she wouldn’t use beheading as an execution, or even attempt too, she strikes for the throat, the thorax, but she won’t let someone suffer, she makes sure they are cut down swiftly if she has to take someone’s life; this man suffered before he was finished off, you can tell by the defensive wounds” Elizabeth thought carefully “She doesn’t like to kill…, she certainly doesn’t like it when people suffer, regardless of what you see on the surface…, my sister is always in pain, she is always screaming on the inside”
Elizabeth gestured to the savagery despite a clearly precise strike “This was more personal, Rage,,,, Lydia’s fury is controlled, even under extreme conditions, it was part of our upbringing”
Chapter 8:
Miquel thought carefully, leaning to begin searching the body a moment as he listened to each word Elizabeth says, his expression was actually saddened “Your childhood sounds horrifying” he commented softly, Elizabeth looked at him with a momentary confused yet softened expression, as he moved back, pulling a letter he has found with him, he looked at her “How strong you and Lydia are…, I find it…, endearing” though he left more emphasis on ‘You’
Elizabeth looked at him carefully, slowly nodding uncertain what to say as she gestured to the letter he had found.
As Elizabeth took the torch; Miquel opened up the letter, discovering that the contents are orders, as he read the detailed instructions, he realised that there the Cultists were aware of their activity at the Abandoned Mill and that there is surveillance going on.
“They know” Miquel said quietly “They know we’re set up at the Abandoned Mill….”
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed “Someone is letting information out, because that is too quick, they found us at the Farm, and now they are aware of the Abandoned Mill…, we’ve been careful, and I know there is no way my father would have found us that fast”
“Do you think someone is actively revealing information…, or making a mistake that’s drawing attention” Miquel ponders as he looks at Elizabeth, then shifts his head to glance about
“We have had days where we have all been present, so…, knowing how my father is intending to recapture my Mother and both myself and Lydia; I believe that someone might be making mistakes…, my father hasn’t struck yet because he wants to be certain” she clicks her fingers “Xian”
“Xian?” Miquel raise’s his eyebrow
“Yeah; Xian, he has been getting careless due to his ongoing feud with my sister, and how my mother isn’t giving him leading roles in any assignment, he is usually paired with Damir now, instead of being sent out alone” Elizabeth gave a slow nod “Yeah…, Xian” she was certain
“What should we do…, Erin and Norina are on their own back at the Mill” Miquel glances around carefully “Should…, should we go back?”
“No…, that…, Monk person is there; if something happens, I have faith in him to keep those two safe…” Elizabeth thought; they both gave a nod before resuming their search, though Elizabeth was beginning to second guess the choice
Across Lancashire in Heysham, Edward after a 6-Hour journey, finally reaches the Cultist bureau during the late hours; entering, he quickly found his way to the back room where George was freshly awake, a letter in his hand regarding updates of strange activity towards the South at Knott End-on-Sea, it resembled actions taken in March near Newcastle where a group had been striking the Cultist operations, originally believed to be Cathryn only to be later discover it wasn’t.
As the door opened, George’s attention snapped onto Edward “It has been done” Edward announced, his voice loud within the quiet room “We have dealt with a…, member of Cathryn’s group, it will send the message that we are coming from them”
His icy gaze fixed on Edward, there was a strangeness to his voice “Is that so?” his vice was soft; a dry rasp like stone grinding on stone, he recognised that there was more that was clearly being kept, though Edward mistook George’s intense gaze
Leaning back in his chair, he made a subtle gesture “Tell me…, who did you kill?” he maintained his gaze “Did they fight back; was it simple and easy?; you haven’t really provided me much information, I am not sure what…, leniency the French ‘Roosters’ allowed during your excursion with them in Mauritania, but you have returned back to my service MacQuoid” his voice shifted, it sounded more dominant, Edward recognised it immediately
“The…, Serbian” Edward paused only briefly; but it was a pause George noted “We eliminated the Serbian, it was not an easy task; his Military training is quite evident”
George gave a slow nod; he wasn’t convinced – though the lack of reports from Scouts around the River Lune made it difficult to provide him reason to accuse “Very well” he finally said, his voice flat, then gave a dismissive gesture to wave him out “Await my next set of orders” Edward withdraw without another word, watched the entire time by George until the door was closed
Chapter 9:
The Abandoned Mill seemed to groan during those late hours as winds lashed aggressively rattling makeshift barricades erected to prevent visible access to enable the group to maintain secrecy; at one of those shattered windows, Norina had found her way to the back room, standing quietly at the planning table where maps were carefully laid out, her fingers absently tracing invisible lines on the wooden surface, it had been so long without word, she was hoping by now they would have returned which meant only one thing to Norina – it Lydia was in danger.
Erin, moving with a silent grace had noticed Norina’s absence-minded staring, she knew what was wrong and has resolved to tend to her like she had been doing most of the day, as she reached Norina, she gently wrapped her arms around the younger woman, drawing Norina’s back against her chest as she rested her chin gently against Norina’s shoulder, her breath a soft caress against Norina’s ear “Planning our next My Little Dove?” she murmured, her voice low, a teasing hum carefully calibrating the tone to Norina’s current mood – it was a delicate balance of distraction and comfort, intended to keep Norina’s mind from tumbling into the abyss of ‘What Ifs’ “I see those eyes staring at the river…, hmm…, that river won’t give up its secrets you know…, only more water for…, the fish”
Norina leaned into Erin’s embrace with a faint tremor running through her; the warmth of Erin’s body was a small anchor in the storm “V..” she paused Vorrei solo poter fare di più”
Norina had reverted like she so often dues under stress; it was always the first tell-tale sign of her mental state; she always fell back on her native language; gently, Erin tightened her hold, she moved her head up slightly, her lips brushing against Norina’s temple as she spoke softly “My little Dove; I promise you, your sister will be okay, she is a fighter, and then there is Cathryn…, and we know exactly how dangerous Cathryn is compared to Lydia, if someone hurt your sister, it would be the final mistake they could ever make” there was a shift within Erin’s words, a careful redirection from the immediate danger to Lydia’s resilience, after a pause, she continued, her voice light “Besides…., did you pack us any proper biscuits before we left?, my stomach is protesting this grand adventure”
Norina let out a slight giggle in response; it was weak, a fragile sound “Biscotti” she questioned “We’re in an abandoned mill, not on picnic”
“And a great pity that is” Erin sighed dramatically, her fingers lightly tapping Norina’s ribs, a playful prod that caused Norina to shift slightly, an almost playful response to the ticklish sensation it made “Imagine, Fresh Tea, Lemon Cake perhaps a grand view of a…, Muddy River, it would make our wait bearable hm?; perhaps…” she softened her voice “Perhaps you close your eyes, you may make them appear like magic”
Norina had relaxed into Erin’s hold, the gentle teasing was a much-needed balm; Erin felt that tension subtly ebb, Norina’s expression softening as she closed her eyes – Erin knew Norina was still scared…, terrified, but the distraction held.
Across the space though; ‘The Monk’ sat silently, still unmoved from his cross-legged position, though for a brief moment, his eyes had opened to observed Erin and Norina, a subtle smile curving his lips before his attention shifted, something was coming and he found himself needed to respond as he slowly rose up to his feet, it drew Erin and Norina’s attention he merely offered his gentle smile, making no indication of them needing to do anything as he moved, the two simply put it down to a need to exercise his legs after being sat for so many hours leading to Norina relaxing firmly within Erin’s embrace again with her eyes closing a second time.
Whittington, Lancashire
The hours that Lydia had found herself subject to Joséphine’s sadistic, vicious actions seemed never-ending; her wrists remained bound during most of the initial actions, she barely noticed the creaking boards of the floor, or when there was movement around her; she was in shock, she was terrified and her body trembled nonstop.
With a momentary peace with Joséphine leaving her alone, she could hear the subtle whispering at the back of her head again; the words were distant, difficult to make out, she simply let her head lol forwards, her breathing was faster now, she took shorter breaths as she felt herself shaking, when the words finally became clear to her after intense focusing, she realised it was the same voice she had heard before – it wasn’t her own, it was a voice that had begun to communicate with her since her escape from the Smythe Estate in 1905 “Please….” She whispered “Help me…., I can’t…, I can’t do much more of this”
She never even registered Joséphine’s return; or the movement of a table directly in front of her; she only came to realisation when she suddenly felt her face enter into a bowl of cold water; out of reflex as she snapped to an immediate focus, she inhaled, getting water up into her nostrils and down the back of her throat; as she felt herself pulled back upwards she began coughing and choking – she felt her heart hammer against her chest “Back with me my dear?” Joséphine purred “You had me so worried, you went blank on me for a moment” her grin was sadistic as she gripped her hair tightly and pushed her down a second time causing water to splash about; she held her there a moment longer before pulling her back up again
As she felt her head move down she let out a raw scream “Please…, Please!” before she found herself silence; choking again on water before being pulled back upright, her body trembled as she began sobbing, she couldn’t control her own body, she felt as though she was being betrayed – though, she found herself repeating the same torture more; she felt herself resorting to begging, constantly out of breath – it only seemed to stop when Joséphine had become bored; though, she makes a subtle comment about a number that Lydia doesn’t hear as if she had been counting, her head lol forwards, her hair, free from its usual tied back position, her head fell forwards around her wet face as she shook, trembled and simply sobbed “I’m going…, I’m going to kill you!” she finally snapped out breathlessly, though her voice was barely above a whisper, her tone was hoarse as she couldn’t stop her shuddering sobs
Things would only descend though; and while it was breaking her down to emotional rawness, it also built up her anger, her rage; she wouldn’t forget what she had been put through; the Water-Torture, the Burning against her bare skin, the slow and agonizing cuts that drew blood along her forearms – Joséphine might have been tearing her apart piece by piece, but it was also building a rage that would become explosive once she would get her freedom.
Chapter 10:
Enduring for so long after so many hours, Lydia was barely conscious, her throat was raw her eyes stung, and her body pulsated with pain; as her head remained lolling forwards, she simply lost track of where Joséphine was before feeling fresh water splash over her jolting her back into a semi-alertness causing her to lift her head, unfortunately though, in doing so, she felt a bowl hit her mouth knocking her head backwards with a sudden jolt and causing the chair to almost go with her forcing Joséphine to intervene and grab her, there was a slight tear in her shirt by the suddenness “Dear-Dear” Joséphine purred, pulling Lydia forwards to settle the chair back on all for legs “Look at what you almost did”
Lydia blinked as she felt her head in an awkward position, straining due to her head being tilted backwards, she was staring up at the ceiling, she felt blood on her mouth where the bowl had split her lip, a groan finally escaping, she made an effort to talk “I’m…, going to kill you…, I swear it” though it sounded audible to her, Joséphine heard only a mumbling
Edward, having spent nearly 14-hours away, had finally returned , and despite his how tired he was, he was still very much inclined to reuniting with Joséphine and their ‘Prize’ – as he stepped through the unlocked door, the scent of woodsmoke was present, but there was also something else…., another sent, coppery that he could taste, it simply set him into a warm buzz
As he entered the room; it was not the same space he had left, its once charming décor was now dishevelled; Lydia was no longer on the ground, now in the same state he remembered when leaving – no, now she was sat on the chair she had originally looked to see Joséphine resting as she began to come out of her catatonic state – the state however was what drew a grin to Edward’s lips.
Lydia was bound on that sturdy-wooden chair, her hair loose and tangled, damp with streaks clinging to her face which was streaked with dirt and tears, broken frames littered the floor, glass broke and scattered about; Lydia’s eyes were wide with raw-agonising vulnerability that Edward had never seen in someone before; it was a look he thought impossible for someone meant to be as hardened as Lydia.
Everything about Lydia’s posture screamed that her façade was long gone – it was methodically stripped away by Joséphine, leaving quivering flesh and a shattered spirit.
Joséphine moved away from the small table positioned behind Lydia, her eyes had never once left her target; her own hair was slightly disarrayed as she began circling around Lydia with a predatory grace, a cruel smile playing on her lips as she had once again collected the journal, flipping through pages “Lets continue dissecting these words again shall we?” she spoke with a silken predatory purr as she stopped in front of her, gently reaching her hand out in a twisted gesture of ‘care’ her thumb gently rubbing Lydia’s cheek.
Since Lydia first began exiting that catatonic state, Joséphine had been actively torturing her, as Edward noted though, Lydia was freshly wet, his eyes took notice of wet marks across the ground, it wasn’t sweat, and blood alone that covered Lydia, but clearly water too.
As her fingers gently rubbed Lydia’s cheek, she watched with a sadistic glee at the girls trembling response “Let us see now…, ah…, ‘Mama’s screams don’t stop; Papa keeps hurting her, he tries to stop me from helping…, he tries to lock Mama away in her room to keep her alone…, and threatens me with separation, I won’t stop though, I must protect Mama’…, so sweet…, but tell me”
She pushed Lydia’s head upwards, forcing her to look up “Do you truly believe that ‘You’ can protect anybody?” as she let Lydia’s head drop forwards, she moved behind her again, collecting a silver-handled letter opener which glinted menacingly before she moved aside of Lydia, she applied yet another slow, shallow cut along Lydia’s forearm, the crimson sluggishly bleeding free – the pain of the slow cutting tensed Lydia up as she let loose ragged sobs.
Slowly Edward moved forwards, but keeping off to the side for now, merely observing the state Lydia was already in, he took note of the displayed items from Lydia’s bag; the eggs though are what drew his attention; he completely missed the strange puzzle box – as he approached them, he collected one of them, turning it are fully between his fingers, he began question why Lydia would be carrying such a fragile item.
Lydia made a vein effort to try pulling her right arm free, the pain in her left was simply too excruciating to try; but each attempted movement only tightened the bonds that kept her wrist in place and making it more painful, raw; her head simply hung heavy with despair as she squeezed her eyes shut her body shaking with each sob.
“Listen to this my darling little toy” Joséphine resumed, her sadistically silken purr as played a mimic of Lydia’s voice, reading her journal aloud yet again “We have begun training today…, I will learn to be strong like Mama, I want to protect her, so she doesn’t suffer at Papa’s hands ever again” With each word, Joséphine used the letter opener, not to cut, but to apply pressure; a sharp stinging jab to a tender bruise on Lydia’s temple – with a slow movement she simply slid it against the side of her neck, with only enough pressure to break the surface.
The physical pain was a constant, dull thrum, it was an assault on her mind, her own words being used against her – it simply broke her down, raw tears simply fell down her face as she sobbed; her body shuddered uncontrollably.
“My Mother is my what keeps me sane; I would sooner embrace death than to see her hurt ever again” Joséphine grinned “Such devotion, but what if…, your defiance is what hurts her most” she purred as she slowly lowered herself down in front of her, her head reaching forwards to grip Lydia’s face possessively, forcing her to face her
Lydia was being reduced to a primal state of emotional agony that she had never experienced before – it felt far worse than what she had endured in her childhood, everything she had witnessed; she could only stare through blurred vision as she continued to sob; she let her head fall forwards once Joséphine’s hand let go.
Finally, Joséphine acknowledge her husband “Mon Chéri, Edward; I do believe it is time for you to join me” she straightened up, her hand gently stroking Lydia’s tear-soaked hair which Lydia tried to recoil from; though had no strength left to fight “Our ‘Toy’ has been so resistant, but that, I suspect, is at an end; I believe she is ready to understand the next stage of all this, to begin learning obedience; perhaps…” a sadistic smile seemed to widen on her face “Do you believe she is ripe for…, escalation?”
She gestured for Edward to approach as his gaze fell back to Lydia’s tortured face “Come closer Mon Chéri; the fun, I believe can truly begin”
Chapter 11:
Hornby, Lancashire
As the morning mist still clung across Northern England, Cathryn and Thomas, visibly exhausted from all their searching doe signs of where Lydia had been taken, possible clues which had all resulted in nothing had finally arrived into Hornby after multiple stops along the River; making their way to the nearby Pub, it’s sign creaked in the soft morning breeze.
Cathryn, with her concern becoming more raw and urgent approached the bartender “Have you seen a girl; about 19, with long Dark hair and Grey eyes about…” she gestured a height that was only slightly smaller than herself “This height…., or…” she thought carefully as he hand was trembling “Perhaps.., perhaps a British man with a French Partner; she would be quite distinctive…, quite…, intense”
The barkeeper raised his eyebrow a moment as he shook his head “Can’t say I have love; a French woman?, we don’t get many of them in here, no, sorry I haven’t seen anyone matching that description”
For the next few hours, the two spent their time canvassing the small village; Thomas found himself rephrasing Cathryn’s frantic questions as she started to lose her composure, providing a faded sketch in effort to rekindle possible memories if anyone had seen Lydia – but all offered the same response or a disheartening shrug with blank stares; no one had seen Lydia nor a French Woman and her English husband.
A cold, heavy dread had settled in to Cathryn’s stomach as she found herself sat on a wall, her head low as she put her hands against her head digging her nails into her scalp as she felt a raw, desperate need to scream “I…, I can’t find her” she whimpered “I can’t find my daughter….” Her voice cracked, despite all the training, all the years fighting and tracking; there was nothing for her to work with beyond Hornby, the information she had only mentioned Hornby – there wasn’t anything else
Thomas felt useless as he watched her, he didn’t know what to say, what he could offer; he felt the same desperation, but he could see the raw reaction with Cathryn, a reaction he’d never seen before
Though; just as Cathryn felt herself on the verge of crying; a figure approached them; a lean man dressed in practical, unassuming clothing, his eyes sharp and observant as he approached – Thomas, noticing immediately moved his hand to the revolver on his hip “At ease soldier” he said calmly; his eyes shifting to Cathryn “Your Cathryn correct?” his voice was low and direct much different to the placid responses of the villagers
Cathryn’s attention snapped onto him instantly a desperate look in her eyes “Yes…, yes, I am”
“Astor sent me” he stated not wasting a word “Your daughter; Lydia is in Whittington, they are located in a small cottage at the south of the village, Astor is already enroute; I have come prepared” he gestured back the way he came “Take the horses, it will be faster considering how much you two have been travelling”
Cathryn didn’t hesitate to move; she moved, and moved quickly; the movement was jarring that Thomas hesitated for a brief second before quickly following – the echoing sound of hooves soon follows their departure.
Whittington, Lancashire
A moment earlier, Edward had begun to take up his wife’s offer, while she continued to stroke Lydia’s face softly – Edward made moves to begin preparations, once he felt he was ready, he offered a drink to Joséphine drink as he approached “Untie her; I want her to fight back” his voice and tone made it clear they were entering a new, more terrifying territory.
Barely even lifting her head; Lydia’s was sobbing, her body trembled; though she exhaled sharply when she felt Edward force her head back with a jerking movement straining her neck “Ah!”
“Have this my dear; you’re going to be having it a lot more when in ‘our’ service” Lydia tasted the first taste of alcohol enter her mouth, it caused immediate choking as she gagged, the sensation in her throat felt like it was burning a she gasped when Edward let her head fall forwards
“Please…, please just stop” her voice was hoarse as she choked and spluttered; raw with emotion; her breathing had rapidly increased, her body was simply a trembling mess; and for all the terror she felt before, it was the next action that would spark her descent into a place she never thought she would ever go; as she was pulled from the chair, she struck the ground with a heavy thud sending sharp pain through her shoulder, knocking the air from her lungs
Then; she saw him coming down; she made the effort to push herself despite all the pain she was in “No!” when she felt his hand grip at her top, she tried to do her best to respond, but her trembling and disorientation made everything near-impossible to coordinate as she could only grip his wrist weakly “No; Stop!” faced with little choice, it was the surge of adrenaline, she forced her left arm to move as Edward came down at her, and despite how weak her strike was, it stunned him momentarily as she jabbed her fingers at the centre of his throat
Enraged, Edward swung aggressively down at her; banging her head against the ground before tearing at her clothing; left defenceless, she found herself doing all she could do; she screamed.
Astor arriving into Whittington; sat atop of a horse; his movements did not indicate any sense of urgency, his unusual, attire drew the attention of early morning risers, but his attention was locked on the cottage he was intending to target; as he came closer he gently pulled on the reigns bringing the animal to a stop and dismounting with a practised ease as he landed with a light bounce on the ground, his movements fluid and graceful.
As he turned, his hand already raised upwards for the hilt of his Kodachi as he began his forwards movement; that was when it happened; a Scream.
It tore through the morning air; raw, desperate with jagged pain and utterly, horribly human; it wasn’t a cry of surprise of mere fear; it was a sound of a soul being ripped apart, a primal bellow of agony and despair that resonated with an undeniable, profound horror – Lydia.
Astor’s eyes narrowed as he marched forwards, the Kodachi hissed as Astor drew it free – his gaze was cold, a controlled fury building; the sound was direct, a visceral confirmation, he had no hesitation as he marched forwards, muscles coiling.
Once he had reached that door, there was no waiting, no knocking; he simply kicked; the door flung open on the first impact with a sickening crash against the wall drawing attention from the two sadists as he marched forwards towards them, Edward quickly began moving, he had been in the process of forcibly undressing Lydia, now though there was a direct threat he needed to deal with.
Moving for his revolver his eyes flickered back to Astor before realising the distance had suddenly closed – Astor had moved with sudden speed once Edward had essentially resolved to engage in a fight, and with a quick, fluid motion, the Kodachi swung low – the strike first hit Edward’s left knee on the angled strike, but the continued movement down across the right shin had cut far deeper as Edward tumbled with a loud bang against the wooden boards.
Chapter 12:
As Edward tumbled; a sharp cry of pain escaping his throat, a loud bang rang out from the revolver – Lydia, who was left defenceless on the ground immediately flinched as she was laying on her back, her legs were positioned as if trying to push herself away, crossing in front of each other in a clearly defensive posture, her right arm was raised up to shield herself as she stared upwards at the ceiling; though the loud bang caused her eyes to shut tightly as she trembled.
Joséphine’s eyes widened at the action – she didn’t hesitate for a moment to flee, as Astor stood over the fallen Edward, his eyes briefly watching, allowing her to escape before his attention returned to Edward; his gaze then moved to Lydia, partially undressed in torn clothing breathing heavily, she was not daring to even look towards him, she had frozen up completely – as his gaze returned back to Edward, his eyes narrowed with a much darker intent as he swung the sword with a quick, swift movement a light thud followed by a second heavier thud only a few seconds after.
Rotating the sword, he moved it to his sleeve wiping the blade before returning it to the scabbard on his back with a light click as he moved over towards Lydia.
As Astor approached Lydia, he observed her physical distress – the violent trembling, the signs of her torture; he kept a distance in order to examine her; slowly, he turned away, his footsteps, despite his apparent heavy movement, were silent as he left the building briefly, but returned with something; as he returned to Lydia, he knelt down slowly offering his hand to her “Lydia” he spoke softly – he made no effort to rush her, simply waited
Slowly, she opened her eyes as she remained still, but her eyes moved, she was looking for signs of danger before finally looking towards him; she nervously swallowed; she recognised him, though last time, it had been as an enemy; she wasn’t sure how to respond “Did they….” He began; stopping short, purposely, he knew they hadn’t, it was evident by his interruption when Edward was undressing her
“N-No…” Lydia whispered; her voice was raw and barely above a whisper as she hesitantly began moving, slowly moving her right hand down from her effort to shield herself, pushing her hand back to prop herself up into a sitting position where Astor offered a glass bottle containing water, she was hesitant, but slowly sipped before she began to make the effort to finally move – every movement was slow, careful; it was clear to Astor she was not the same from their previous encounters, and likely wouldn’t be for a long time; Lydia was very aware of her exposed body; Astor moved slowly, unfolding the jacket he had left to retrieve, and helped her put it on, being aware of her left arm
“Your mother and the soldier have been searching for you; they should be on their way here” he told her “Provided my messenger found them without issue” slowly, he raised Lydia up to her feet as he stood up, his gaze drifted towards her equipment on the table
Lydia hesitated; each movement she made her body trembled as she walked unbalanced towards the table and began to put her belongings away into the bag, her eyes lingering a moment on the small box; she slowly placed that back in the bag too before deciding to use one of the makeshift bandages to make a sling for her arm, using her teeth to help her in getting a knot set in; once she was done, she winced as she positioned her arm within it and took deep breaths calming herself.
When Cathryn and Thomas finally arrived, Astor decided to leave – Lydia was safe, albeit shaken.
When they saw her; the state she was in, they realised exactly how close things had been, Thomas quickly moved out of the house to go after Astor while Cathryn moved to comfort Lydia; embracing her gently but firmly – an act that made Lydia sob instantly as she hid her face into her mother’s shoulder “My baby girl” she breathed, a tremor within her voice as she held her daughter, she could feel Lydia’s right hand gripping the back of her top as she clung tightly, the bodily trembles were simply unmissable
Gently she leaned her face into the top of her daughters hair closing her eyes as she held her as if they had been apart for years, she recognised Lydia’s rawness, her vulnerable she had been left “I thought…, I thought…” Lydia stuttered, she was unable to even finish her sentence
“Shh, Shh” Cathryn gently rocked side to side taking in a deep breath
Outside, Thomas approached Astor “Oi; wait…” as Astor climbed up onto his horse he looked at Thomas carefully “Thank you” he said, there was a slight tremble present to his voice, a sad smile “If you hadn’t…”
Astor never said anything in response, merely gave a gently smile before kicking at the horse, he began to trot off and away from Thomas as he turned to see Cathryn bring Lydia out, she wasn’t only wering Astor’s jacket, but the addition of a blanket pulled around her providing extra covering – he knew what Lydia had gone through might make her wary, and was intending to keep his distance, yet, Lydia had immediately noticed his absence as they slowly approached, she looked at him with raw exposure “Don’t you dare” she told him, her voice hoarse, a low whisper “I need you…, don’t you abandon me” her voice cracked, her eyes blurred, she felt her mothers hand on her shoulder as she took shaking breaths in
Thomas looked at Cathryn carefully then to Lydia as he moved forwards, purposely lowering himself to her height, he felt his left knee against the floor as he kneeled, his eyes fixed on Lydia’s “Lydia; I will never abandon you” he told her, his voice soft, gentle as he reached hesitantly forwards, he stopped short, aware of her possible retreating, but when she didn’t he gently placed his hand against her face, she instinctively leaned in; Thomas had come a long way since that first encounter in 1907 “All I was doing Lydia; is giving you room to breathe; to process, I will be there every step of the way, I promised to remain by your side, and I will keep that promise, you know I will”
Lydia eased forwards a moment before embracing him; her body continued to tremble as she clung to him, slowly, she eased back; taking in a shaky breath – the three would set off to return back to their safehouse, when the group reunited, Elizabeth found herself simply unable to maintain any rivalry, she softened, defending her sister when Xian made comments, sided with Norina in supporting Cathryn’s decision to withdraw from Lancaster, Xian, the only opposition decided to simply venture off, intent to continue the fight on his own temporarily, believing that retreating entirely was a bad decision.
Chapter 13:
The August dawn broke over the Bowland forest with a deceptive gentleness painting the trues with the early morning light of the sun, the morning songs of birds echoed through the woodlands, carrying a rather peaceful sound – it provided a pleasant backdrop for Lydia who had left the new safehouse to sit alone amongst nature, it was peaceful…, there was no one about to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere as she leaned against the tree.
Her recovery had been a protracted and arduous affair, not merely physical but mental – she remembered everything regularly, it was a constant merry-go-round within her head, the twisting of her own words against her by Joséphine, the physical torture her body bore the scars of, then the memories of Edward’s act – the act that had come so terrifyingly close, the final defiling act, she felt her eyes close tightly as she struggled to maintain her composure for a moment – the tearing of her clothing, the sound of the fabric wouldn’t leave her ears, if Astor hadn’t arrived at the moment he did, she knew exactly what would have happened as she took a trembling breath in pulling her legs up and leaning her forehead against her knee’s “Push it out” she told herself quietly
When she felt calmer, she simply maintained her rested position; her head resting against her knee’s.
She became lost deep in her thoughts; and didn’t register the sounds of snapping twigs or the crunching of leaves underfoot as Norina approached, Erin had been present, sensing Lydia might be overwhelmed, decided to step back, to observe from a distance.
Norina recognised her sisters need for solitude, but also recognised her struggle – Lydia, she knew, was someone that would potentially do something reckless if her anger overwhelmed her rationale.
As she came close to Lydia, she knelt down beside her, still not getting a reaction until her hand made contact with her shoulder – Lydia’s eyes sharped immediately as she lifted her head, looking to Norina, there was not startle, no sharp intake; just a sudden shift to awareness – Norina gentle eased herself to sit beside her offering companionship “Stai bene?” Norina’s voice was a soft murmur that barely disturbed the quiet
Lydia took a moment before giving a slow nod ‘Yes’ she looked forwards, a distant look present in her expression for a moment “Just…, letting my mind settle, it still comes back…., I still wake up because of it” she spoke quietly, her voice was softer than Norina’s, almost whispering
Norina gave a slow nod; though, Lydia’s decision to move closer, leaning her head against Norina’s shoulder made Norina smile for a brief moment, before she leaned her head against Lydia’s; the two simply sat silently listening to the sounds of unseen birds in those early hours.
Quietly, Erin decided to return back to their new safehouse; a relatively peaceful cottage that had clearly long been abandoned, she returned back to inform Cathryn of Norina keeping Lydia company, Cathryn gave a slow nod before smiling.
Cathryn let her gaze fall onto Elizabeth, Miquel and Thomas “It’s going to take some time” Cathryn said softly, addressing Elizabeth; Elizabeth gave a quiet nod
“I would rather she fully recover this time” Elizabeth said quietly “I don’t want my little sister getting into that sort of trouble again; not because it we’ve had to retreat…, but to see her…, so fragile…, it is like being back at the Estate…, she was so timid then…, I was just getting use to the stoicism she had”
Thomas looked towards Elizabeth a moment, offering a sad smile “We’ll help her get there” he said
“With permission ma’am; I would like to take Elizabeth out for a…, ‘distraction’ hm” Miquel gave a genuine smile as he looked to Elizabeth “Take the opportunity to collect supplies”
Elizabeth looked to Miquel; she thought a moment then gave a nod “Yeah; I’m okay with a distraction”; Cathryn, her eyebrow raised for a moment gestured, they had permission, though she was more confused at the need to even be asked, she never normally prohibited excursions away, as far as Cathryn was concerned, they were not children requiring her oversight
As Miquel and Elizabeth got up to leave; Cathryn let her gaze fall towards the window, she watched Lydia and Norina out in the distance.
A Month Earlier – George had finally been provided a report on Edward’s original claim of killing a ‘Serbian’, it proved to be lies, the truth, as George became aware, was that Edward and Joséphine had captured his daughter and evidence acquired proved what their intent was with the discover of Edward’s fallen body but no sign of Joséphine – now though, that was about to change.
When he was made aware of Joséphine’s capture, a sickening grin curved his lips, gesturing to the Cultist that had brought him the message, granting silent permission for her to be brought before him – her once haughty posture was now a pathetic slump – the elegant menace she had once been, was reduced to a victim.
As George rose from his chair, he slowly approached her, a predator eyeing up prey – a dawning horror formed within her eyes “Joséphine” he purred, a voice devoid of any warmth yet capable of chilling blood “You forgot your place; your forgot ‘My’ place”, he took slow, deliberate steps as he began to circle her, each echo of his movement caused her to flinch “There is only one person allowed to bring harm to Lydia…, to Elizabeth…, or even Cathryn” he came to a stop in front of her, his gaze pierced her, a terrifying declaration of ownership “And that…, is me”
He didn’t raise his voice; he didn’t need too – the sheer, unadulterated possessiveness in his delivery was more terrifying than any rage, with a dismissive flick, yet almost elegant, he indicated for the Cultists that had brought her in “Begin”
Joséphine eyes widened as realisation kicked in – a desperate, choked sound escaped her lips as she was pulled away, a scream erupted that carried long after the doors closed, George merely returned to his seat behind his desk, a grin widening on his features.
Chapter 14:
Back in the Bowland forest as both Lydia and Norina continued to sit quietly, Norina noticed the shift, it was subtle, as if made unconsciously by Lydia – Norina raised her head slightly “Norina” Lydia’s voice was soft “Could you…, help me up please”
Norina was a little confused for a moment, but gave a subtle nod before standing up to position herself in front of her sister and help her up to her feet “Stai bene?”
Lydia made a gesture “I want to go and explore…, do you want to keep me company?” there was a hopeful expression within her eyes, Norina gave a slight, warm smile before reaching for Lydia’s hand and walking with her into the forest, moving further from their safehouse.
During their walk, Lydia paid close attention to the birds, she found nature to be peaceful, it was pleasant; the more they moved, the further they got from the others; but, there was clearly intent behind Lydia’s apparent absent awareness – they found themselves approaching the River Hodder – I may not have been the River Lune, but then again it wasn’t the River Ticino either, the choice seemed odd to Norina, but she remained close to Lydia “You…, seek River?” Norina asked softly
Lydia gave a clear, affirmative nod “Yes” taking a deep breath she let go of Norina’s hand a moment and eased closer, she recognised it as something that had caused her recent horrors with Joséphine and Edward; if she hadn’t have frozen, she wouldn’t have been captured in the first place…, or, perhaps if she had not been alone “I beat this once; I will beat it again” she narrowed her gaze a moment, purposely lowering herself down to sit, pulling her journal out and looking at her as Norina came to sit beside her, a peaceful silence settled between them as Norina watched Lydia carefully, curiously.
Lydia began had decided to sketch on one of her pages, she was meticulous in her drawing, her eyes flickering back and forth, before she began to write over it, purposely making the writing lighter with less pressure on the lead used to draw, her writing was small, neat as she maintained her focus.
‘I resolve to end this cycle; it could have ruined me, it could have destroyed who I am, Thomas does not look at me as though I am weak; that is purely a deception of my own mind, he treats me respectfully, my mother; she remains my anchor, my icon to aspire towards, my sisters give me hope, Norina’s gentleness and even Elizabeth; her cold detachment is an act, I have seen her when she believes I am sleeping, when she checks on me’
As the peaceful moment continued to stretch; the two would be found by Thomas, he had come out in search of them, having taken notice of their absence, he hadn’t been the only one, Cathryn had noticed too, Thomas merely offered to search to ensure the safety of both Lydia and Norina that Cathryn readily accepted.
As he came nearer, he could see Lydia’s intense focus on her writing, he resolved to not disturb, Norina had noticed him; she gave him a gentle smile and he returned with a warm smile of his own – when Lydia finally finished her writing, she looked to the river again
Over the next few days there was a shift in the air, it had been so peaceful, but now; it began to shift, a new energy seemed to settle in, as if to announce the arrival of something darker.
George had been fully aware of Cathryn’s location, he had been curious as to what had driven her to relocate instead of committing to fighting; despite his awareness of what had happened with Lydia, he still didn’t comprehend the psychological damage, he had after all inflicted far worse on Cathryn.
As Lydia was sat outside of the safehouse, taking up the position by the tree’s, a spot that had become a place of safety…, of peace; somewhere she could listen to birds singing and write within her journal, she noticed the change in the air, slowly she got up to her feet as something emerged from the dense growth.
George – his presence was a dark stain against the morning light, he wasn’t alone; with him were two hulking Cultists that dragged a figure that was barely recognisable; Joséphine.
Her once fiery spirit, her sadistic nature; it had been utterly extinguished, replaced by a hollowed-eyed exhaustion, signs of a month-long starvation and torture, she was left in tattered rags bearing blood stains, her body unable to hold itself up as she trembled uncontrollably, and when pushed forwards, she just collapsed to the ground with a light thud on the damp earth.
Lydia looked at Joséphine carefully, then her eyes shifted towards her father.
George’s broad frame shifted beneath the expensively tailored suit, he made no overt movement, yet his presence seemed to expand, filling the clearing with a suffocating weight, his icy gaze was unnervingly still as he took in Lydia’s subtle tremor, he was dissecting her.
Then, with a deliberate, almost theatrical motion, he extended an arm, gesturing casually to the surrounding treeline “My sincere apologies” his voice despite purposely being soft, carried a steely threat “But…, my companions here, will not be allowing you to leave quiet yet” as Lydia looked about, she took notice of movement; there were armed Cultists clearly surrounding them but maintaining their distance – it made Lydia’s heart hammer against her ribs, a frantic bird trying to escape a cage “So Lydia” George grinned
His tone was almost conversational yet it also dripped with menace “Tell me my dear daughter; what do you truly desire?” he let the question hang heavy in the air, a poisonous bait, with a dismissive flicking gesture he indicated to the broken, whimpering figure of Joséphine “Do you yearn for revenge?”
Chapter 15:
As Lydia was processing the weight of the horrific offer; Cathryn came into the clearing – due to breakfast preparations, she had come out to collect the two, but taking notice of unusual movement, she immediately moved into a defensive action; rushing to get in front of Lydia “Stay away!” she snapped as she drew the Kukri knife, acting as a shield
As Cathryn let her gaze move about, she returned her focus back to George “You could have attacked already; what’s with this charade?”
“Always so direct Cathryn” George let out a light chuckle of amusement before merely inclining his head towards Joséphine “No charade my dear; I merely wished to offer ‘Our’ daughter a gift; a chance to gain…, closure” he spread his hands, an incest gesture that hid a deeper darkness within his gaze “I brought her for Lydia to take her revenge”
Joséphine who had previously held the position of power, who had caused Lydia so much horror during captivity and savoured each moment; simply trembled on the ground; slowly, she raised her head just barely, her eyes meeting Lydia’s – a primal fear clouded her gaze as she locked her eyes with Lydia’s – that was the moment of an electric current of recognition – the stark role reversal shot between both women.
Lydia felt a potent cocktail of emotions swirling – the terror was still there, but now, something else; something darker flared, hot and insidious; the cruel smile, the picture of Joséphine straddling her, all the torture she endured, she snapped.
Moving fast, she snatched the Kukri from her mother catching Cathryn by surprise as she moved forwards before she could be stopped – storming forwards her feet carried her directly to Joséphine – she had one thing in her head, George watched with a widening grin, a flicker of triumph within his eyes; he knew that this was what he needed to do to twist things, as Cultists stepped back, creating a clear, dramatic space for Lydia; George remained stationary, a dark, immovable sentinel, his eyes intensely fixed on his daughter, he saw the desire for revenge; raw and undeniable and he relished it
As Lydia stood over Joséphine; her breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembled with a mix of rage and terror; she knelt down to grab her by the hair, forcing her head upwards, forcing her to look at her as she moved the Kukri knife into a preparation to swing – the memories came surging back, her eyes were alight with hatred.
The Leering Smile from Edward, the Sneering of Joséphine; the cuts against her body – the tearing of clothing, her exposure – yet, she hesitated, she was so close, but it felt just like how horrifyingly close she had come to losing the last vestiges of her autonomy…, her eyes became unfocused, she almost seemed to fall into a daze, the Kukri knife subtle shook in her hand as she kept it ready to strike; her grip on Joséphine’s hair weakened as she found her vision blurring with tears, she closed her eyes tightly, she moved – or she thought she had, in truth, her hand remained paused in its raised position, her fingers were not really gripping the Kukri anymore, it was loose in her grip.
She exhaled sharply, she let go and kicked herself backwards, the Kukri fell from her hand, landing with a light thud against the ground; she took heavy breaths, she could hear that same voice at the back of her head, to her, everything around her seemed to almost stop as she stared.
A woman; her presence was silent, yet powerful, like a light that illuminated the darkness of a room, she drew Lydia’s attention; she recognised her.
Elpis.
She stood at a relatively small height, similar to Lydia’s own height, her hair, a dark cascade light a waterfall at night, her eyes a deep Amethyst violet; when she smiled, she seemed to radiated warmth “Your strength outshines even your realisation Lydia”
“I wanted too….” Lydia’s voice was soft, but the look of relief that had washed over her indicated she had no regrets in her decision
“And that my dear is what makes it a victory; to hold back even at the most critical moment, knowing that if you proceed, you will never escape the pain; I was right to entrust the Box with you, you keep the ‘Heart’ safe, never let anyone take this victory from you my dear child, and know that you have proven me correct with my belief in humanity”
As Elpis faded away from her vision; Lydia became distinctly aware of Cathryn’s embrace.
George watching the entire spectacle unfold felt a flicker of disappointment, his subtle grin faded, replaced by narrowing eyes – yet, he also recognised something deeper, something he could still exploit “A Pity” he murmured “It seems our dear Lydia is not yet ready for revenge” it wasn’t a defeat in his eyes, merely a delay in his twisted game, he simply believed she wasn’t ready yet not that she wasn’t capable
With a curt gesture, George signalled for the Cultists to move Joséphine – her screams erupted as they dragged her up to her feet, she had no strength to resist, to refuse; the screams though seemed to echo like horrifying memory for Lydia, her eyes locked towards Joséphine, her breath hitched “Stop!” she shouted “Stop”
George, a momentary look of surprised crossed his features, his eyes returning their attention to Lydia, his surprise turning to confusion; perhaps h was wrong, he gestured to halt, there was a slight head movement, to let Lydia continue “Let her go” Lydia felt the words barely escape her throat
George felt his confusion grow rapidly – not just him though, Cathryn too, the silence seemed to stretch awkwardly as George looked towards Joséphine; she was wide-eyed, staring in Lydia’s direction, she was utterly shocked by her intervention “You…, want me to let her go?” George shifted his gaze back to Lydia, he was utterly bewildered; a slight shake of his head with his confusion remained a fixed feature, he wasn’t sure how to respond, he felt genuine confusion, he’d encountered something that seemed very alien…
He shifted his gaze back, he didn’t know what to do; though curiosity did spike “Very well” he wasn’t able to hide his surprise, neither could the Cultists are simply dropped Joséphine to the ground; George’s gaze then shifted towards Cathryn, his eyes still bewildered “Fear not Cathryn; you and your group can have your little break from this conflict…, I do advise you check out daughters head, she appears to have gone mad”
Slowly, George turned; , his imposing figure melting back into the forest as Joséphine’s screams faded into the distance.
Lydia, remaining with her mother’s embrace found herself unsure what to do next; she didn’t actually believe George would simply do as she asked; Cathryn, she gently stroked Lydia’s hair, leaning her face into the top of her head “Lydia…, what…, why?” she queried calmly, she too was confused, though, it proved her humanity in Cathryn’s eyes
“She’s just like you and me” Lydia said softly “Only…, she didn’t escape”
Cathryn gave a gentle kiss on the top of Lydia’s head “I am not sure about that; I am not even sure how you even came to that conclusion, but I accept it”
Hearing movement, she shifted her gaze to see Thomas approaching – with Thomas’ help, much to his own confusion, they would bring Joséphine in temporarily, but it was made clear she would be leaving once she was capable of moving; the group wouldn’t remain at the safehouse; they would relocate again, intending to put as much distance from George as possible
Written By: Westley H.
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