Well, I'm sorry it's been forever, but I can't spend the whole chapter apologizing, can I? This was such a bitch to write, I swear. So a special shout out to Jo Nahmanaick for being a fabulous friend and confidant! Check out her fic, Goatswood Blues! You'll enjoy it, I promise! And also to Vivamor, who sent me a particularly sweet review. Also thanks and much love to all my reviewers and subscribers! Your support has been very much appreciated!
Hold me
Even though I know you're leaving
And show me
All the reasons you would stay
It's just enough to feel your breath on mine
To warm my soul and ease my mind
You've got to hold me and show me now
~One Moment More by Mindy Smith
The guests promptly left, and Eloise went upstairs to her room, tightlipped and pale-faced. She refused to speak to either Jonah or Aikman, which was just as well since neither attempted to communicate with her after the disaster of a séance.
She undressed and climbed into bed, yet sleep only came in short fits. Thunder jolted her from her thin grasp of slumber. A storm raged outside, and rain endlessly barraged the roof and window panes. Lightning one moment followed by more thunder. Eloise hated thunder. Even at this age, it frightened her so terribly, and she curled up with her knees against her chest and the covers tugged up over her head.
After a few short minutes, she decided she couldn't be alone, and she crept from her bed and out into the hall. She slunk into the room just as Jonah sat up from his bed. Evidently he couldn't sleep either. "Eloise?" he mumbled confusedly as she shut the door and crossed the room over to his side.
"Don't talk." She said tersely, pulling the sheets back from Jonah's form. Wordlessly, she crawled under the sheets and pushed him aside to make room for her. He didn't protest.
She could sense his hesitance but ignored him anyway. She needed this, and she wasn't about to let formalities get in her way. Her arms were tucked against herself as Jonah wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her up closer to his chest where she finally began to relax. With a deep sigh, she felt her eyelids slide shut.
Eloise woke in the wee hours of the morning, Jonah still fast asleep next to her. She lay still for a moment, listening to his rhythmic breathing till she began to feel restless.
She left, careful not to wake him or Mr. Aikman, and crept into the bathroom to wash up. She combed her hair into two soft plaits, a style uncommon and unfashionable for her era. She scrubbed her face till the skin turned pink and fresh, and she started on her morning work.
There wasn't much to do today in the vicinity of housework. The laundry had been done just the other day, and one didn't need to dust every waking moment. So a good sweeping and clearing of dishes was all that Eloise had to do that morning.
It was nearing noon and Eloise was sitting down alone at the table, practicing her needlework. Her bare toes skimmed across the cool kitchen floor, and she hummed to herself contentedly. She didn't need a lamp; the natural light straining through the window was enough to see her work clearly. She felt good today, inexplicably good.
There was a creak of metal on metal; the unmistakable sound of a door swinging on its hinges. Eloise paused, waiting. There were no footsteps following. Maybe the wind blew the door open, she mused. She got up from her table to investigate. Eloise walked into the hall, and sure enough, the door had swung wide open letting the cool hair flow in. She sighed and closed it, making sure to lock it as well, before returning to the kitchen.
But there was something wrong. She couldn't see it, hear it, but it definitely told her it was standing right behind her. Eloise turned, at first seeing nothing, then looking down she noticed the intruder.
A familiar face, yet entirely unwelcome. The cat stood before her, leaning slightly to its left, its fur badly matted and grungier than ever.
The thing jerked toward her in spastic bursts, as if in a great deal of pain. It cocked its head; ears flattened back against its skull, staggering forward like a drunk. Eloise sucked in a breath, instantly recognizing this as a threat. The cat drew back its scarred lips and omitted a low, rumbling growl of hatred.
Maybe, she thought, she could trap the cat with something before it could bite her. But what? Her eyes flicked to the laundry basket to the left of her, lying several feet away. It was so far, and she was terrified to move, but this cat was mad, truly mad. What choice did she have? Eloise edged toward the wicker basket, scared to death that she might make a sudden move that might disturb the cat. Her throat was so dry, she was spitting cotton, and her stinging eyes threatened to spill over with tears of fear.
She snatched the basket as the cat lurched forward at an alarming speed. Just as the diseased monster was in reach, the basket was dropped and the cat was trapped. But alas, it would not be heavy enough to keep the spitting creature from pushing its way out. Eloise threw all her weight atop the basket before it toppled. The cat screamed and hissed and cried at her with absolute loathing, trying its damnedest to escape its prison.
"Jonah!" she cried, bordering hysteria. "Mr. Aikman!"
Time seemed to drag on as she waited for someone to hear her plea. Finally, Aikman appeared.
"Eloise, what is this?" Aikman demanded. Jonah was trailing immediately behind him, looking on at her in confusion and a touch of worry.
"The cat is rabid! Its-" the basket shuddered and Eloise whimpered, trying to steady the basket. She looked up at the men, desperately. "Please help me!"
Aikman barked at Jonah to fetch a sheet from the linen closet, and fast. He gave him a "yes sir" and dashed out to retrieve the linen. He was back in an instant.
They laid the sheet down on the floor and slid the basket over the sheet, careful not to drag it under as they navigated it to the middle. Jonah and Aikman picked up two corners of the sheet and drew them close. Swiftly, Eloise lifted the basket, and the men tied their corners together, transforming the plain sheet into a makeshift bag.
Eloise cringed as they carried the screeching bag out into the yard at the back of the house. She finally found the courage to follow them, in case she was needed.
The bag screamed in protest as Jonah struggled to keep it still. Aikman ran back into the house and returned, wielding a small revolver. Eloise gasped, feeling sick. She knew what was coming, and she didn't want to be there when it happened.
Unwilling to watch, she ran inside into the living room and sat and waited until finally, two shots were fired, each sound echoing in her ears. She lowered her head though it wasn't out of sadness or respect. She wasn't sure why she did it, but it seemed necessary at the time.
Jonah came back inside first. Eloise looked up at him. "Is it dead?" she said bluntly. When he nodded, her shoulders dropped and she looked away for a moment, finding the time to accept this.
"Walk with me." Jonah said suddenly.
She looked at him sideways. "Will Mr. Aikman let us do that?"
"I already asked him. We haven't got much to do today, and I thought you might need it." He said sincerely, a small, encouraging smile formed on his lips.
"You're so thoughtful." Eloise said, attempting a weak smile as she rose to peck his cheek.
"I have to do something first before we go anywhere. Why don't you go get ready? I shouldn't take too long."
They parted, and Eloise left upstairs to wash her face, as it was surely flushed and a bit sweaty from previous events. After finishing that, she combed her hair out a bit and twisted it back into a single braid.
Jonah met her at the bottom of the stairs, holding her oversized coat out for her. She accepted it and soon they were both out the door and down the road. Both were silent at first for some time, marching tensely beside one another as time dragged on. Finally, it was Eloise who broke the silence. "We never talked about yesterday."
They walked along a few paces before he answered her. "You mean the séan-"
"I mean the kiss." Eloise interrupted. "I'd like to talk about that first, if you don't mind."
Jonah looked at her, a little sidetracked. "What's to talk about?"
Now that was a question indeed. What did she want to talk about? Was she going to obsess over what the kiss meant, or whether they were a couple, or did she want to put an end to the little scandal? None of these things crossed her mind. There was nothing she wanted to talk about.
She stopped dead. "Do it again."
He stared at her, wondering if she was joking. He hoped she wasn't. Eloise took a step closer, her hands reaching up to his collar pulling him to her face. Their kiss was small and sweet, not nearly as ferocious as the last. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, a cliché that just felt so right.
His lips trailed up to her eyelid, where she whispered "Does it hurt?" He hovered over her for a second, mind wandering.
"Every time."
A/N ITS CUJO! The cat was freaking out the other day and scared me half to death. So I dedicate this chapter to my morbidly obese little baby. Sorry there wasn't any gore in this. As you all know I've been having a tough time, so the story has changed a bit. BUT there will be plenty o' gore within the next chapter, which hopefully will be longer than the last few, but don't hold me to it.
