'I'd happily drowse in summer dreams
And see in sleep old palaces and towers,
Quivering midst cascading stream
Of crimson Bougainvillea flowers'
-Bougainvillea
England, 1881
Hatheway house.
Marianne laughed and clapped her hands in delight as she escaped the clutches of her sweet little sister's hands, yet again.
"Come on dolly, come catch me!" she called, her voice becoming a little taunting as she knew she had the upper hand on their little game of Blind man's buff.
Marianne stood watching from the shade of the huge weeping willow, as her little sister blundered about in the sun's heat. There was a slight breeze in which the drooping willow leaves swayed and danced under the hazy sunlight.
Marianne watched with humor as her sister occasionally stumbled on her own feet, only to get up and run around wildly again.
She ran close to her sister and poked her on the back before shooting off to the shelter of the willow tree again- just to tease and taunt her little sister.
She watched gleefully as her sister ran further away from her and on to the other end of their garden, hands flailing about in the empty air. It was not long before the five year old tripped. Marianne simply could not contain her laughter, even though she knew it was very unkind to laugh at a time like such.
"Stop laughing Annie!" her little sister huffed and sulked, "I'm not playing!" She clawed at the blindfold before snatching it off completely.
"Hey! That's cheating! You're not supposed to take that off dolly!" Marianne called out, knowing that their game had come to an end.
"Well, I can't be cheating if I'm not playing anymore! And stop calling me dolly- I'm not your doll!" her little sister retorted before becoming sullen again. She pouted and crossed her arms complaining about how she always had to be 'it'.
Marianne slowly walked over to her sister and sat down on the warm grass next to her. Her fingers roamed about the ground, playing with the greeny, yellow summer grass. They sat in the silence under the warmth of the sun for a little while.
"Awww, I promise I won't laugh again, dolly," Marianne tried to make it up to her. Her sister sniffed and made the show of turning her head the other way.
"Come on, don't be like that. I promise I'll be the it next time."
At this her sister turned to look at her slowly, with the suspicion only a five year old could have. Her eyes were narrowed which made her cute pixie nose upturn more.
"What's in it for you?"
Marianne laughed; her little sister was an absolute angel. Soon the two sisters were both laughing. Marianne pinched her sister's nose affectionately.
"Come on dolly, let's go find momma."
They got up to go- but their beautiful, carefree afternoon was interrupted by a scream.
They both looked at each other in surprise, before instantly turning their heads to where the scream had sounded from: their neighbours' house. The little boy, Will's house.
Without hesitation, they ran to the house with a zeal and bravery only children possessed.
They ran in through the gate fence that divided the two houses and in through the back door which someone had conveniently left open.
As they neared the rooms, which were situated alike to their own house, they heard voices and the unmistakable sound of someone in distress.
Cautiously, they poked their little heads into the room they believed all the commotion to be in and lightly made their way in.
No one had noticed their presence yet so they went closer to the crowd of people in the room, completely undetected.
Their attention was not focused on the little crowd but what had caught the attention of the crowd and kept them standing in such a crowd-like manner. However, they didn't fail to notice the pale looking women who had sort of collapsed on an armchair as if she were completely drained of any energy or the actual will to stand.
Marianne was the first of the two to see the small body on the floor. As she got closer she saw that the body was uncannily still- deathly still.
Being eight years old, Marianne understood the laws of nature and what it meant when someone was 'gone'. Yet what she saw now could not be described as an act of nature- although in a twisted way it was.
She heard someone let out a strangled, terrified squeak beside her which meant that her sister had seen the pale body lying in an odd angle on the floor. It also meant that someone looked up and found the two girls standing there with wide, scared eyes, the rosiness and colour drained out of their faces.
Someone moved out of the crowd ready to take the two innocent children out of the damned room but only succeeded in giving them a better view of the grotesque sight.
As Marianne finally saw the full horror she gasped out in shock and fear. Could something like that possibly happen? Especially to a boy she knew and had once chased down her own garden?
She felt her little dolly grasp and clutch her hand, afraid. She too was afraid. It wasn't normal that an eight and five year old saw a mutilated dead corpse lying bare in front of them, for the entire world to see.
Because in front of them lay the once full of life, energetic body of their neighbour and friend Will, now so very still; it was a mockery to his prior self.
His pink lips were no longer full of life but spoke only of death; they had turned a startling bluey purple in colour. Marianne shivered as she thought of how cold they must be- how cold he must be.
Because no doubt, the natural warmth in everyone's body had left his and not even the sun's agonizing heat could ever bring it back and revive him. His face had drained of all colour and was now a pale milky, white colour. Thankfully, someone had closed his eyes or they would have met his petrified gaze, shocked into shock.
There clearly had been no mercy.
But it wasn't the colour of Will that scared the two girls- it wasn't even the way his hands and feet, his whole body seemed to have been placed at an odd, repulsive angle.
No, it was the fact that there was more than just a few wooden sticks protruding out of his frail body, where they had brutally been plunged into. The sight of a little boy staked at a thousand places was horrifying to even think about- and it was this sight and the amount of blood covering Will that had the two girls terrified so.
Marianne was whimpering slightly without her own knowledge; she didn't know what to do. Her eyes were transfixed at the small dead body; she was unable to tear her gaze away.
It was the weak tug on her hand that caused her to turn and look at her sister's face with concern. Her sister's eyes were wide and had filled with tears and she clearly wanted to leave. Marianne nodded and agreed to leaving at the same time as someone ushered them out of the room.
They in turn were immensely glad to leave it, but Marianne couldn't help but turn back once. She looked one last time at Will's panicked, petrified face before turning around and wiping her eyes.
Her little sister was still clutching her hand as tightly as before, and she could see bluey, purple forming underneath her sister's white hands on her own wrist. There was a bruise forming- and horrifyingly, it was the same colour as little Will's lips.
To Marianne this had become the colour of death and she shut her eyes hard to try and block out the grotesque images of the evening forming in her head.
But she found that the images were not going to leave her.
They had been imprinted into her mind, ruthlessly etched in with permanent ink.
They were destined to haunt her every dream and every memory- causing her to remember the little figure lying helplessly in the large room; his breath stolen by a thousand wooden stakes.
'When moonbeams lit the shade,
Alight with silver showers,
The huntress in the glade,
Silently chose her flowers.'
Rhododendron - Moonlight
England, 1893- Present day
An alleyway outside Regent Park.
Marianne Jolene Hatheway glanced around nervously as she took a short route through an alleyway in the hopes of reaching her home sooner.
She was feeling nervous walking out alone at such a time; it was not only dangerous but also unbecoming for a young lady to be roaming around the streets after dark.
But it had been absolutely necessary to make the late night trip to the apothecary and get medicine for her little sister who had alarmingly fallen ill. It was even more necessary that she get to her house as soon as possible and give her little sister the care and medicine she needed.
Marianne clutched the medicine in the polythene bag tightly to her chest, shielding it from the fragile snowflakes that had started falling to the ground.
If she had had time to spare, she would have stopped to admire the beauty of such a night.
There were no streetlights but because of the faint, eerie glow of the moon you could see the snowflakes illuminated as they fell freely to the ground. The snowflakes lingered long enough to be marvelled at but melted before it could settle- a pity really; London had been looking forward to the snow all winter.
The night was beautiful- the snowflakes were like little pearl drops against a dark, vast chilly sea. It truly was a marvellous sight.
Marianne shivered, partially from the cold and partly because of the snowflake that had fallen on her eyelash. She sighed; her sister would have loved to be out in this snow. With the thoughts of her sister still lingering in her mind, Marianne hurried along wrapping her coat tighter around herself.
It was not long before she started to feel at unease- almost as if there was someone there, watching her. Marianne looked around self-consciously but saw nothing apart from the empty street; she still wasn't reassured however. She started to walk faster but she was tiring, so she slowed her pace down to normal- after all what could possibly happen?
Step, Step (step), Step, Step (step)
Marianne was growing alarmed with every step she took- and there really was reason to be.
It was like with every two steps she took, she could hear another. Almost like an echo-like step of hers. Almost as if there was someone following her…
Step, Step (step)
There it was again. Someone was trying to match her steps but not quite succeeding.
She wondered if she was imagining it; if it was a figment of her paranoia. But she shook her head; the sound was just too real to be fake. She didn't know which was worse: her going insanely mad or someone purposely following her in an alleyway.
Marianne stopped abruptly. Step…scuff. She stopped and heard a sound close to when your foot scuffs against a pebble- only this time the foot isn't yours.
She almost laughed out aloud in victory- her silent follower had messed up! - had it not been the fact that now she was sure and had evidence that someone was following her.
Marianne nervously glanced behind her- there was still no sign of anyone else there.
She turned around- and almost dropped the medicine in the bag. There was a dark male figure standing in front of her. Well, he wasn't standing right in front of her but leaning against the filthy, postered alley walls.
Numbly, Marianne remembered to breathe.
Don't panic, Marianne! It's just a passer by, you know- maybe he got tired so he is resting. Just walk by him. Don't look at him. Just walk by him. Be calm, Marianne. Breathe.
She tried to reassure herself as she edged towards the other wall, trying to get as far away from the figure as possible.
It wasn't comforting the way the figure seemed to move slinkily with her, following her yet again. And where had he suddenly appeared from?
They carried on like so for a while before the stranger started moving closer to her, ever so slowly. Marianne was flustered and scared- what should she do? Should she say something?
She tried to walk faster but he matched her pace too easily. Just as she was about to break into a run, he spoke.
"It's not proper for a young lady like such to be walking out alone in the night. Anything could happen to her, and no one would even be there to see it…"
He seemed to be half speaking to her and half to the slow, drizzle of snow.
Marianne stared at him, shocked that he had spoken to her and even more frightened at what she was supposed to do. She was disgusted to see a smile on the man's face- obviously one of those arrogant, cocky males who thought the female sex to be a lesser one.
For some odd reason, Marianne felt angry. Maybe it was because this man had been following her and he had scared her, or because she was worried for her sister or maybe just because she wanted to be. Whatever the reason, Marianne felt herself responding to her anger.
"It is equally improper for a gentleman to be talking to a lone lady after dark or following her," she retorted fuelled by her anger, not aware of any consequences or how inappropriately she, herself was acting.
"Ah, but there is the hitch," the man said half whispering and laughing as he sidled closer to her, "Nobody mentioned anything about my being a gentleman." he laughed lightly and mockingly, his face inches from her ear. With growing disgust, she realised the man had actually sniffed at her hair!
Was this man drunk? You did not just walk up to any lady, especially after dark, and talk so intimately to them. This was completely outrageous! And Marianne could not make heads or tail of the absurd situation she found herself in. What was she to do?
Marianne glanced around to see how she could get herself out of the corner, the man had walked her into- of course without touching her, thankfully. He seemed to be aware of what she was thinking because suddenly he put an arm on one side of her body and leaned in the other; completely blocking her potential escape routes.
She glanced around nervously, still clutching the medicine and licked her lips in an act of nervousness. The man was looking at her, eyebrows raised as if waiting for her to do something.
You've got me backed in a corner in the alleyway, blocking all my possible escape routes and you look at me as if I'm on a flipping show and you want me to dance for you! What do you think I'm going to do!
"Well, I wouldn't mind it completely if you were to dance for me, Ms Marianne."
Marianne looked up shocked, "How…?" She didn't get a response but the pale, grey eyes she was staring at seemed to be laughing at her. Again there was that anger rising in her.
"How dare you? You insolent man! Let me go right this minute!"
"No one is stopping you, Ms Marianne," he seemed to realise that she didn't like him calling her name, so he did it again just to annoy her. He watched her eyes go wide in anger and laughed inside. So fiesty.
She pushed his hands which surprised him, he hadn't actually expected her to be brave enough to touch a stranger. But he quickly got over the surprise and pushed her harshly against the wall, locking her against himself. Her eyes grew wide again but this time the anger was replaced by fear.
Marianne gulped; she had no idea what she was going to do. The man had pushed her against the wall and had his hands pressed against the wall, thankfully not touching her. He seemed to be glued to her neck. She squirmed under his touch and tried to push out against him, still clutching the medicine in her hand.
"If you'd just quit fighting…" She heard his mumbled voice say against his ear. She looked around helplessly, anyone? Her thoughts strayed back to her sister and she grew more angry. Her poor sister was ill and this drunkard thought it was funny to play around with an unescorted woman!
She looked around for anything until her eyes caught a glint in the moonlight. Under the long coat he was wearing, she could see the hilt of maybe a knife or a dagger tucked in his belt. This man really was dangerous! But maybe if she could just reach the knife, she could use this danger to her advantage and warn him off.
Marianne was too distracted to make anything out of the sharp cutting pain she suddenly felt at the side of her neck. Her thoughts and energy were solely focused on getting a defense weapon for herself. But she was aware of herself suddenly getting a bit tired, a bit hazy…
The man was breathing heavily against her neck and she could feel his filthy mouth on her neck- she just hoped he was distracted. As quietly and silently as she could, she brought her hands to the front of his body while still managing to keep the medicine safe.
With one quick jerk, she pulled out the blade from its resting place, meaning to jab it at the man to warn him off.
What she had definitely not expected was the knife to come out of its sheath or glint menacingly once in the moonlight. Or the man to suddenly lurch forward as if his actions were not his own.
What she had least expected was the knife to waver before plunging deep into the man, so deep that when she later tried to pull it out she could not. Maybe it was because her hands were shaking violently or maybe the knife had really become intact to his body.
She had not expected the man's body to slump forwards onto her, giving her all his weight. But that particular night the unexpected surely did happen.
Marianne staredwith horror at the collapsed heap on the ground that she had shook off herself. She had no idea what she had just done. Take another's life? Surely not! She was a honest, good hearted woman. She wasn't capable of taking someone else's life, for god's sake!
The whole event had not even registered in her mind properly- it was just too unreal- but she knew straight away she had to get away. She looked at her white, shaking hands and pressed them to her lips to stop the scream that was threatening to come out. And the bile that was slowly rising to her mouth.
Her tears had started to fall but she had no idea why she was even crying. Everything was so dream-like.
It was as if she was not actually in her own body walking away from the body that lay on the streets. It was as if it wasn't her own hands that had just committed murder. Numbly, she realised she was still clutching the medicine dearly, as if it were her life.
Absent-mindedly, she put her fingers to the sharp pain on her neck- her hands came away, wet. And covered with blood that was her own. She cried out- this was not happening to her. She had not killed a man and he had not bitten her.
Marianne started running and she ran and ran under the moonlight and under the snowflakes.
She ran crying all the way to her house, only stopping to catch her breath once.
She ran without looking back once. Ran all the way without looking back once at the place she had just sinned.
She didn't look back once- and maybe that was her real mistake.
Author's Note: Wow! A new story- I've surprised myself! Not particularly one of my favourite inventions but I think its pretty good- I like my title though, don't you? ;)
If anyone noticed- yes, I have read Chris Wooding's 'The haunting of Alaizabel Cray'- in fact I'm reading it right now. Hmm, maybe I should put a disclaimer up. If no one knows what I'm talking about thats even better!
Oh, the last part of my story is a tribute to Alfred Noyes'Highwayman- thought I'd mention that while I was blabbering on.
So, ok, I couldn't help being a bit cliche. I just had to add a time honored cliche scene in my first chapter- its like tradition, dude! Anyway whatever it is I hope you enjoyed it. Tell me just how much by reviewing. ;) Btw was the knife part unrealistic? Give me your thoughts on it. Anyways, I'm off to plan how the end of the world is going to happen, so adios amigos- keep those reviews coming in!