-V-

Clara sat before her vanity mirror, passing a brush through her copper hair. The strands fell in thick waves past her shoulders, and bordered a pale face. Clara couldn't understand how her skin had become so white. Although her trips outside were not as frequent as they had been before she moved into the manor, her skin remained as pale as porcelain. She closed her eyes and placed the brush on the table. She shivered against a draft that had found its way through the pleasantly furnished room. Ever since Johanna outgrew her crib, Clara had moved into the adjacent room. She had to admit that the solitude was nice, but she missed the gentle breathing of the young child who seemed to be growing up far too fast.

All of a sudden a shriek pierced through the silence, crashing over Clara with instant worry. Without reaching for her housecoat, Clara rushed out of her room and burst into Johanna's chambers. The room was brightened only by a single candle. Johanna thrashed about in her bed.

"Mommy! Daddy! No Daddy!"

It was hard for Clara to decipher the child's words through the consistent wails, but she could put the words together clear enough. With a heavy heart Clara dropped down to the bed and lifted Johanna in her arms. The child continued to cry, but she was awakening. Clara made soft shushing noises as she cradled Johanna back and forth.

"Don't fret love, it was just a nightmare. You're fine."

Johanna sniffed back sobs as she finally calmed down. Clara held her for a long while, and finally Johanna's tight grasp on her nightgown loosened. Clara laid her back into her bed and brushed her finger across her cheek.

"Would you like me to stay in here tonight?" Clara asked softly, caressing Johanna's forehead.

Johanna sniffed again, and then reluctantly nodded. Clara was always astounded at how brave little Johanna was. Even through her dreams were obviously terrifying, she tried her best to be strong and deal with the visions herself. Yet she was only four years old. She would need to adapt bravery in her later years, but for the present, Clara would do whatever she could to comfort her.

Johanna moved over, and Clara snuggled into the blankets. Clara passed her fingers through Johanna's long hair affectionately as the little girl laid her cheek on Clara's chest.

"Do you remember what happened in your dream?" Clara asked.

Johanna was silent for many moments.

"I think it was about my parents."

Clara closed her eyes in regret before opening them again. Neither Mildred nor Ophelia had any knowledge of how Turpin came to possess the child, and they had been around a lot longer than she had. Clara hadn't an idea what could have happened to the unfortunate parents of such a charming girl.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"I just remember flowers and a nice feeling like the sun on my face, and then everything turned into night and was never happy again."

Of course Johanna could not remember her parents. She had been just over a year old when Clara met her. It was just as well that she could remember, for Clara suspected memories of perfect clarity would be even harder on the child. Clara squeezed her tightly.

"Try not to think about it anymore tonight Johanna, you're safe here, and no harm will come to you."

Silence settled over the room, and soon Johanna's heavy breathing betrayed her decent into slumber. Clara sighed and kissed the top of the young girl's head. Soon, she too collapsed into an uneasy sleep.

_____________________

Benjamin's world whirled in a chaotic vortex of semi-conscious agony. He could vaguely piece together a distorted memory of a leather strap tearing through his flesh, searing him with bloody markings, each one more painful than the last. He was dragged through a seemingly endless labyrinth of stone, but he couldn't bring himself to focus on where he was being led. Wherever it was, it was far danker than the former prison section had been. The steady drips from external piping made echoing splatters on the stone floor. Benjamin's legs felt numb, and even as the guards opened a large door and tossed him into the cell he couldn't even summon the strength to lift his hands.

He crumpled to the ground, small puddles of water soaking one side of his face. His vision was still spinning in a horrible churning nightmare, and as it wore on he desperately willed it to end. He heard the sounds of wickedly inhuman laughter from behind the door.

"Enjoy your stay, Mr. Barker."

Benjamin moaned and attempted a shaky inhale. He felt as though he was trying to breathe around splinters of glass, and his chest shuddered at the torture of each desperate inhalation. He rolled and pressed his hands firmly into the stone as he coughed hard, ripping through his lungs and splattering drops of blood from his mouth. After a few moments of recuperation, Benjamin finally found the strength to sit upright. He subconsciously rubbed the red welts that had formed on his wrists from the constant bite of metal, and tried to relax. He knew he would not feel any better if his stomach constantly remained in nervous knots. He felt a moment of solitude in the silence.

When he could manage it, Benjamin removed the bloodstained shirt that had been reapplied after the lashing. He hissed in instant pain, but gritted his teeth as he fought to remove the garment. He let out a strangled cry as the cloth ripped off the gashes in his skin, and the pain shot vibrations of agony through him. There was really nothing he could do to treat the wounds, and he doubted a surgeon would be by to see how he was doing. So he sat in a cross-legged position on the bed, having nothing to think on except the dead gaze of the officer he killed. He shivered, feeling instantly nauseous. He thought to his wife, and her kind-hearted and tolerant face.

I don't suppose you'd believe I had it in me. Benjamin thought grimly. I didn't think so.

His lip quavered slightly as he remembered his beautiful wife. It would be easier to endure this madness if he knew his wife and daughter were okay. If he knew they were safe he could live through this torturous situation he found himself in. However, he didn't know. He couldn't stop thinking of Judge Turpin, and his reasoning for sentencing Benjamin to life imprisonment. He tried to force the thought out of his head. It wouldn't help now.

When he could stand it, Benjamin slowly eased himself to one side, wincing as the skin on his back expanded, tearing his gashes. In the dark silence, Benjamin brought his knees up to his chest, feeling very much alone.

_____________________

A year had passed. And then two. Benjamin had lost all track of time as each eternal night descended into another. There were no windows; no sources of light save for a dim ray of lamplight beneath the door. At times, the small slit in the door was left open, but otherwise Benjamin was constantly bathed in darkness. Food was brought in no particular routine, and sometimes Benjamin found he would go a day or two without. Therefore, he spaced out his meals accordingly. Every day he feared that the guards would simply forget he was down there, and that he would suffer a lonely death by starvation. As the two years of captivity went slowly by Benjamin found his mind beginning to grow more and more erratic.

Due to malnutrition and exhaustion, Benjamin had begun to envision horrible scenes in his mind, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't banish them. He was scared; he had been for a long time now. He tried to see his wife and child in his mind's eye to give him some relief, but the horrifying images engulfed them as well.

On this particular day, Benjamin had not received any food from his jailors. He hadn't eaten in at least fifty hours and he couldn't recall the last time he'd had a drink of water. He kept thinking about his life, and what he'd done to deserve such a terrible fate. He felt spasms of tingling numbness attack his limbs, and he tried to walk off the sensation but lost the strength and collapsed to his knees. He sat there for a moment, gasping and attempting to swallow while his tongue and throat were bone dry. He leaned against the iron door, breathing heavily.

Suddenly, Benjamin thought he heard the eerie sound of chuckling. At first he'd thought it was just another vision his exhausted mind was conjuring, but as the laughing strengthened Benjamin jolted upright in shock. He was not alone in this chamber.

The strange noise that cut through the silence like a dagger filled Benjamin with an apprehensive dread. Benjamin focused his attention on the settled darkness.

"Who's there?" Benjamin's voice was hoarse, and it hurt to speak as his voice scraped over his dry throat.

Suddenly the chuckling transcended from mild amusement into rumbling laughter. The sound was horrible, and Benjamin felt himself tremble. What was going on? Soon the laughing died down, and Benjamin thought he could hear a faint melody begin to pass through the dark cell. Benjamin didn't move as he sensed movement from a corner of the chamber.

"You find yourself alone…lost inside the dark…each small noise makes you jump…drop…drop…drop."

The haunting melody shredded across Benjamin, and a figure slowly began to emerge.

"A sleepy soul does need a rest…he closed his eyes and slept…he woke but remained in a nightmare…drop…drop…drop."

Benjamin was feeling more and more anxious as the frightening song grew louder. He grimaced as he forced himself to his feet, and pressed his back against the stone to keep from collapsing. The voice continued.

"The nightmares never leave…the nightmares never stop…let me end your pain my friend…drop…drop…drop."

Benjamin caught a glistening of reflected light, and felt his fear consume him. His hands were balled into white-knuckled fists as he fought to tame his shuddering breaths.

"Who…who are you?" Benjamin whispered in the darkness.

The hidden prisoner stopped singing for a moment, and began to laugh again. Benjamin placed both hands at the sides of his head as he slowly slid to the ground. Terror clawed through him; ripping his mind to shreds. Benjamin searched desperately for visions of his wife.

"Lucy…" He moaned into the darkness.

His wife's image did not materialize. Benjamin wrapped his arms about himself, attempting vainly to banish the crushing darkness and to force the mad laughter out of his head.