Barkis Bittern sat at the edge of his tiny bed in his tiny jail cell, rocking back and forth and desperately trying to ignore the lively music that drifted in from the Ball and Socket Pub next door. For months he had had to put up with that awful racket and he was just about at his wit's end.
Six months, his head screamed, for six months I've been locked in this hell hole! All because of that one, little slip up!
For what seemed like the millionth time (and probably was), Barkis went over the events of the dreadful night that led to his death and imprisonment in jailhouse of the Land of the Dead. He remembered every single detail like it was just yesterday: the look of fear in Victoria's eyes, the feel of her flesh through the thin wedding gown material as he tightened his grasp on her arm, the loud clanging of the swords during his battle with Victor, the bitter taste of the wine…
The poison wine, Barkis thought, not able to stop himself from smirking at the irony. What were the odds that just as he was about to make his escape, he would grab a poisoned goblet of wine! It was as if fate's sole purpose was to prevent him from obtaining his rightful victory.
Barkis looked down at his cold, blue hands and examined them. God, did he hate his hands! They only served as a reminder to Barkis of his miserable failure. Every time he looked at them he could feel the poisoned wine constricting his veins and stopping his heart. They brought nothing but the memories of being attacked by a mob of the undead and thrown in this tiny prison. Those damned hands…
Tired of staring at his treasonous appendages, Barkis turned his attention to the matter that in the past six months had consumed him: escape. From the moment he was tossed into his cell, Barkis made up his mind that he had to escape somehow. There was no way on earth (or under it) he was going to let them get away with stealing his dreams.
Or more specifically, Barkis thought with an evil grin, there is no way Victoria's going to get away with it.
Barkis reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper. He opened it up to reveal the portrait of Victoria that had once hung in one of the halls of the Everglot mansion. He had managed to sneak it out of the house prior to his death just in case he needed it for his ransom plot involving her. Now it sits near his motionless heart and serves as a constant reminder to his plans of revenge.
After all, he thought as he gently stroked the picture, if I can't have what I want, no one can. Barkis knew that that fool of a man, Victor, would be devastated if anything happened to his beloved Victoria. She would be the perfect subject for the kind of vengeance he had in mind.
He protected that woman as if she was some sort of precious jewel, he thought in disgust. The insolent fool! Apparently Victor didn't know what Barkis had learned years ago…that life could so easily be taken away.
"But do not fret, my dear," Barkis said out loud to Victoria's portrait, "he will learn soon enough." He cackled to himself at the thought.
"They'll all learn," Barkis shouted as he jumped up from his seat on the bed. "They will all see that Barkis Bittern never leaves empty handed!"
Hey people! Sorry about this chapter, I know it's short, but I just needed it to establish the fact that Barkis is out for revenge against Victoria (plus I was low on ideas). I promise the next one will be longer! Well, hope this chapter entertained you enough and reviews will be greatly appreciated! Good bye!
