A/N: This is something I've wanted to write for ages, probably since the first time I finished S1.
The screams were a constant sound to her now. Like a low drumbeat that played throughout a song or a light humming that carried on the wind. Its presence would follow her throughout her day; never stopping, never wavering.
She could hear it as she ate breakfast. She could hear it when she dressed Her Ladyship. She could hear it as she did some sewing. She could even hear it over Mrs. Patmore's shouting when the cook made the family's dinner.
She had learned to live with the sound and there were times when she could convince herself she didn't hear it at all. Yet it was when night fell and there were no more chores for her to do that it would haunt her.
It was worst during the night.
The moment she closed her eyes the sound would intensify. The hallow screams of the unborn child would rattle in her ears screaming out for the mother he would never know.
She had tried to ignore, to block it out but it was of no use. The sound pierced through all other noises. A knock on the door would sound like a drop of rain against the window or a pillow falling off the bed.
Yet what made the night so bad was not the sound of the child's wails, but the images that would form the moment she closed her eyes. Blood. Always blood.
She tried to keep her mind off it, instead thinking of which of Her Ladyship's gowns needed mending or which ones needed a proper cleaning. Which to put in storage and which should go to the Church's poor box, and every so often it would work. The image of blood would disappear as sleep took her. But once sleep came, it came back and with a vengeance.
Her Ladyship screaming in agony. Blood pouring out from the bath. Her fingers holding the soap. Blood filling the room. Watching her fall. Blood seeping out of every stone in the house. Watching him die. A trail of blood following her through the house. Her Ladyship sobbing over a small corpse.
Every one of them ended the same, it ended with the small boy. The small boy who never made a sound.
He would stand there watching her, never saying a word from across the hall. She would call out to him but he would run. So she would chase him. Chase him through the kitchen, the library, the halls, the stairs, and past the bachelor's corridor until they were in the family's private wing. There the boy would stare her down with his clear blue eyes that reminded her of another.
Her hands and feet would move towards him against her will as the room would start to change, the hall melting into another – her Ladyship's powder room.
The boy would not move, but he would just stare as she came closer. Her hands would almost reach his shoulder when he would open his mouth. The blood would pour out of his mouth, down his throat and down his small body. Blood seeming to seep out of his clothing and his skin as more blood dripped down off his chin and hit her hand as he finally spoke two words, "The Soap."