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sylvanSpider sylvanSpider is offline
Weaver of Webs
Default   #49  
Emily's eyes widened and she dropped to her knees, face frozen in that terrible expression of realization. Her beloved had indeed gone missing, and he was likely in the hands of the vampire. “Ms. Ward...has him? She has William?” she croaked, looking up at Simon already knowing the answer. He hadn't skirted around other facts of his investigation that she knew of, and she saw no reason for him to be lying about this.

Simon made eye contact and nodded once, “I have reason to believe she does, though she is no longer in the form of the enfeebled elderly woman he told you he was conducting business with. Of course, I did take my investigations straight to where I believe the source is. Ms. Ward's home. There, I found further reasons to believe that she is indeed a vampire. The enfeebled form of Ms. Ward, naturally, upon feeding upon Mrs. Thomas would be rejuvenated to a form of a much younger person, though of course, I use the word 'person' here lightly. The younger person is claiming to be the granddaughter of Ms. Ward, and not coincidentally, the elder “Ms. Ward” is claimed to be dead. A typical story.”

Emily couldn't cry or scream though she wanted to do both. First Rosamund, and now William. She wished this Mr. Wegg had been around before, had been able to stop this. She simply sat frozen on her knees. At the very least, Mr. and Mrs. Turnbuckle were situated safely in their estate in London—far from the troubles of Flint. But here, Emily lost everything and everyone she loved. They were less than two weeks from the day they were to be wed, and William was missing—likely dead.

Simon kept his position, making no motion to comfort the distraught woman and he inhaled deeply through his nose, “Emily. In order to further my investigation, and in hopes of finding your dear William alive, I have to get more information from you.”

Emily did not answer verbally, instead turning her eyes up at him, steeling herself for a barrage of questions. “You and Rosamund went out on the town today, correct?”

Emily gave an assenting nod.

“While out, did you see anything, or anyone strange? Perhaps that you hadn't seen before, or a person that seemed to be watching you? This could be anyone. I need to know, as the suspected would have had to lay eyes on you in order to target you—which would give clear motivation to kill Rosamund in an effort to isolate you,” Simon's voice was calm, assertive. He'd done this sort of thing before, and with the attitude he carried it would be easily believed that he'd done this more times than he'd care to count. Of everything he'd seen, none of it was new anymore. None of it could be. He'd seen everything.

Emily swallowed, placing her hand on the coffee table to prop herself up. She remained on her feet only long enough to shift her position to the seat, being more light-headed than she'd originally thought. His question reminded her of that woman...that gorgeous woman she saw in the market. At the time, she wasn't able to place it, to put words to the feeling she had when they made eye contact. Finally, she nodded, pressing her lips together and fought back tears, “Y-yes. There...there was a woman, her hair was yellow but pale—almost white—her eyes, they...they seemed to peer into my innermost being. I was overwhelmed for a while with this, this, prevailing feeling of guilt and...desire.”

“Desire?” Simon asked, “Guilt? Was it just a feeling, or did you have some sort of vision to accompany it?”

As she thought about it, the feelings were becoming more real to her once again, and she could see it clearly in her minds eye, “I...I was no longer myself, for that moment at least, I was a woman named Isabella. The guilt...it came from abandoning her. I left her alone, drowning myself in a sea of crimson and regret. I...I don't mean to sound melodramatic, Mr. Wegg, these are simply my feelings.”

“I believe every word, Miss Barker. All is as I thought, then, you are her target. Though, I am unsure of this vision you had--”

“It was like a memory. Isabella was me, and I was Isabella--”

“Interesting. This cements my initial thoughts, though I am unsure if this was a trick from the vampire...or if this is something else entirely.”
Old Posted 02-02-2018, 06:48 PM Reply With Quote  
Default   #50   Worm Worm is offline
Two Fish
Elizabeth remained rigid in her place at the head of her table. A grimace staining her immaculate complexion. "I hate him with every fiber of my being." Her voice was numb and hollow. Moonlight streamed into her dining room, leaving a soft white glow dripping from velvet drapes like milk.

Why did a man like Igor transgress the passages of time and space only to become a pathetic worm such as William? It didn't make sense whatsoever. After all, Emily vibrated with Isa's golden soul as if it were a sheer shaul around her figure. Her smile radiated with the moment Isa realized she was safe. It took months before Isa could even smile. Though the mistress, Elozabeth, had taken her from a much worse situation, Isa seemed to struggle to adapt. It was as if she couldn't accept her new life. All that Elizabeth had wanted was Isa's happiness. Like a trophy she could taut above her head, Isabel's smile was prized. Now she needed to figure out how to get it once more.

She needed to use William. Even though he reeked of Igor's hedonism and sadism, the man's character seemed just the opposite. He wanted only to return to his true love. Her insides squirmed at the thought of Igor and Isa actually belonging together in a second life. After all that he had done to her... This would be Elizabeth's perfect hell. Its going to be so satisfying to kill that insect.

It was just before sunrise, reds seeped into the blue of night and stirred across the sky like watercolor. The game was just beginning, and Elizabeth had quite a few tricks up get sleeve.
Old Posted 02-03-2018, 04:02 AM Reply With Quote  
sylvanSpider sylvanSpider is offline
Weaver of Webs
Default   #51  
It was the something else entirely that worried Simon. “Something else” was indicative of something he didn't know, something he didn't have any control over, and that simply would not do. However, his investigation was put at a standstill while an escort was found for Emily. Then, there was always the chance that the wretch would try while he was here, and that was all that he would need. But she was too clever for that, wasn't she? If she hadn't sent someone to scout, perhaps one of her fraudulent 'maids,' she'd've come herself. She would know by now that Emily was being watched. As far as he was concerned, he had her in a checkmate—so long as her attention did not divert to another woman. But no, the poisoning of Rosamund was more than enough proof that Emily was the object of desire here. Why bother with isolating her of everyone she loves first otherwise? Chief Thomas, after all, was still very much alive and well. Mrs. Thomas hadn't been isolated before her death. No, she wanted Emily for something else entirely, and it was likely that she was wanting her alive.

A knock at the door.

Two pairs of eyes followed the sound. “C-come in,” Emily squeaked, trying to find her voice. The door opened and through its frame the silhouette of Mr. Thomas as well as a woman she faintly recognized as one of the midwives of the town shadowed the doorway before they both stepped in. Emily could see the change in Mr. Thomas immediately. He appeared as though he hadn't slept since his wife's murder, dark lines encircling his eyes, dry and chapped lips, a complexion more pale than was healthy even by English standards...The man was a disaster, but he offered Emily a smile nonetheless, stepping over to her and placing a large, comforting hand on her shoulder leaning down slightly to talk to her.

“We're going to fix this, Emily. For you and William both.” There was a pause between the two sentences, one that seemed to speak louder than the words themselves. One that said that he felt her pain, that he was going to do his best for not only himself, but for her as well. Rosamund and Sarah would see their justice.

Emily's eyes searched his before she went in, wrapping her arms tightly about him, sobbing into his chest, “I'm so sorry, Mr. Thomas, I'm so sorry. Sarah was a most excellent woman...I'm so sorry...”

Mr. Thomas, at first, was taken aback. It wasn't like Emily to forsake her modesty and manners, but grief does strange things to a person, and he couldn't say he didn't understand. His arms soon engulfed her trembling body, “Thank you...thank you, Miss Barker.”

The woman who had been accompanying Mr. Thomas stood patiently, hands clasped in front of her. She, though rather poor looking, was beautiful. Long light hair escaped from the hat that had obviously been put on in some haste, framing an angular, almost feline face. That face held in it two ice blue eyes, a straight, petite nose, and small, but full lips. Simon, as this tender moment between Mr. Thomas and Miss Barker was unfolding, took a moment to survey her. They briefly made eye contact, and Simon could feel a shiver run down his spine. There was no explanation for it.

The embrace broke, and Mr. Thomas straightened, cleared his throat, and straightened his tie as Emily dried her tears, “Mr. Simon Wegg, Miss Emily Barker, this is Miss Katherine Hagert. She's the night midwife here in Flint, and has seen tremendous success. In the last three years, not a single woman has died while she was present, isn't that right, Miss Hagert?”

The woman nodded, extending a hand first to Emily who took her hand tentatively, then to Simon who took it with strength. Her hands were cold, but then, the night that she'd just come from was cold. “It is true. In my free time, I read medical journals and I have been keeping up with all of the medicinal trends and have had tremendous luck in following Queen Victoria herself in her methods with her own children. While escorting is generally not a part of my job description, I am happy to be of assistance.” Her voice was soft, svelte—sweet to the ears and hypnotizing to the soul. Emily was taken in immediately.

Simon's face betrayed no emotion, “Very well. Then I shall trust you to help keep her safe. You have been briefed on the situation, I presume?”

“Yes, Investigator.”

“Excellent. Chief Thomas, a word in private if you will?” Simon said, gesturing to the door. The gentlemen stepped out, leaving the women to their own devices. “I want eyes on this house at all times. The women are not to leave, save in an instance of emergency, and none are to enter—save for myself or other members of the force accompanied by me or yourself. Is this doable?”

“Absolutely, Mr. Wegg. I do not want to see another death, especially not one in such a young life.”
Old Posted 02-07-2018, 01:32 AM Reply With Quote  
Default   #52   Worm Worm is offline
Two Fish
As night had fallen into midnight, and midnight into the witching hour, all were in the throws of sleep. All except Elizabeth. Flint was as dark as it could ever be. No candle flickered, no horse neighed. In the bathtub still soaked in Blanche's blood, Elizabeth stewed. Her mind was a palace, and within it, she planned.

Her milky white skin was submerged in a broth of lavender and sage. Her eyes were open, unblinking and focused as Rose and Lilian rolled handfuls of water over Elizabeth's shoulders. The warm water sizzled and steamed off of her infernal skin. It was in this state that she would wander into the dreams of Flint, and specifically, Isabel's. With William under her control completely, she could dive into the mind and heart of his lover. His lover.

The pangs of living so dreadfully long made this process like excavating bodies from a warzone. How could Emily find herself drawn to the man that raped and wed her as a child? The man who pushed her into suicidality, who took her from the only person who loved and cherished her? Elizabeth leapt from the bathtub. Water splashed onto Rose's face as she did so. Her stoic, and lanky frame made its way out of the tub. Water followed her but steamed and dried the instant it hit the ground. Though still nude, Elizabeth was already dry.

She pinned her hair up, Rose and Lilian following behind. "Milady, what troubles you?" Rose trembled beneath her breath. "May we service you in any way?" Lilian too spoke up.

"This is a job for Master William. If you will fetch him." No eye contact necessary. With a forceful push, her hair was bound into a tight top bun, held up with a long pin.

"Certainly." And with no effort whatsoever, the concubines were gone. In a matter of moments, William was between them and at Elizabeth's side.

"Now leave us." She shooed the ladies away, who dipped their heads in respect and shuffled off, closing a bedroom door behind them.

Elizabeth, now in a sheer robe, looked over William. He stood, barely conscious, struggling to keep his eyes from the illustrious body in front of him. Her hip bones dove into the fabric, so close to Elizabeth's skin that - He pulled away, trying to avoid causing any more problems with his new master.

"Do you like my body, Mister William?" She cooed. Her voice was like silk, and his mind was so warped that it melted like butter at her advances. He didn't respond. "Do you?" She grinned, lifting the edge of the already short robe, to reveal the top of her thigh. William couldn't help but glance. He wiped his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. "Well?" Her breath on his shoulder, he could feel hairs stand on his neck.

"You see. Believe it or not... Not so long ago, you were the one pursuing me." She buzzed, stroking the side of his cheek, stubble scratching her palm. "The blood of a virgin. You took it. You drank it." She smiled into each word, which then bubbled into a lunatic's laugh. "Do you not remember? Mister Igor De'Rossi." She paused, wondering if his past name would stick. If maybe the stench of his past would rise from the dead. She covered his eyes with slender hands, and he did little to budge. "You took the soul of the woman I love."

"Isabel." His tone dropped as he said her name.

"Isabel..." Elizabeth repeated, a tear fell from her cheek an onto his shoulder. With her hands still against his eyes, she felt him too hold back tears.

"I won't allow you to have her. This is the price you must pay for your transgressions." She lifted her hands from his eyes. One finger pressed hard against his forehead, and she was gone.

"If this is how I..." William fell to his knees in complete and utter sorrow. "Oh Isabel." He wept in the fetal position for what seemed hours. Sunlight poured into the bedroom where he lay. It was the orange and red of dusk, and he knew what needed to be done.
Old Posted 03-26-2018, 01:42 AM Reply With Quote  
sylvanSpider sylvanSpider is offline
Weaver of Webs
Default   #53  
The women were left alone. The men, having left, brought with them the only signs of life in the house. Emily stood as if frozen in time, her eyes stuck on the bottom of a chair leg. This time the night prior, Rosamund still drew breath. Rosamund was still there offering words of kindness and wisdom. Those words died with her and Emily was left with...nothing.

Katherine watched Emily as she stared into the flames blazing from the hearth. She was left with few options. To go for comfort or not didn't really matter, though the transport to Elizabeth would be easier should she build up trust. Taking a deep breath, she moved to step behind her liege, placing a hand on her shoulder, “I know...I know that nothing I say can bring back your friend, and I know that you hardly know me, but please understand that I am here to help you. You can trust me.”

Emily blinked, shaken from her daze shaking her head. Silence followed for a few moments as she remembered that she needed to breath and nodded. “I...I know...I know. But why...why me? And why Rosamund? Does Mr. Wegg truly believe that there is a connection between Mrs. Thomas's murder and Rosamund's? What about William? ...Where do I fit into all of this?”

“I wish I had all of the answers for you, dear, I really do. But, Mr. Wegg was hired to his position for a reason. We have nothing to do except wait until he gets this all taken care of,” Katherine said calmly. She knew who Simon was, what his specialty was. She could feel the holy symbols even on the outside of his briefcase. From the chain that hung around his neck bearing that wretched symbol. She knew that he'd be a thorn in their side. “For now, all you can do is rest, which I recommend you do now. Perhaps a new day will help alleviate some of your pain.”

Emily didn't object; in fact, she said nothing at all as she stood, a blank expression on her face. She was in her bed, eyes still open, as her heartrate fell to that of a slumbering human.

Katherine closed her eyes, placing a hand on Emily's head. She'd successfully infiltrated Emily's dreams.
All that is empty in the drawing should be filled in, the teacher said to us kids. First you sharpen the pencil to fill in the thin whiskers, then you use the thick crayon to fill in the wings with brown, meticulously and without letting the crayon leave the page. Six feet can be traced below the soft belly. Now, breathing is hard to detect on paper, the teacher said to me when I asked, but it is easier to feel it in real life.

Even insects breathe.

-Rawi Hage, Cockroach
Old Posted 03-26-2018, 09:21 PM Reply With Quote  
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