Chapter 10: pt 3
I didn't know where I was or where my shirt had gone. Abigail the bar wench was yapping as usual, going on about Lord-knows-what in that annoying reedy little voice.
She lifted my head slightly and poured some water into my mouth, spilling it all over me. I sputtered and angrily waved her off of me.
I was in one of the rooms over the town bar. I spotted my shirt and trousers folded neatly on a chair.
"It's about time you woke up!" Abigail huffed. "Goody Mores said that she'd kick you out if you stayed even one more night, and she didn't care if you were still out. And Simon Lemon said he needed you to help with patrols. And the Constable needs you to tell him the night your friend was killed by the beast. And Reverend Jerome wanted to tell you-"
"Enough already." I groaned as I pulled on my trousers. "It's all sort of muddled, I don't even know how I got here."
"You were carried. But everyone wants to know why you were covered in blood."
That's when it all came back tome, as horrible and real as if it were happening all over again.
"No! Don't throw up on the floor," Abigail screeched!
I coughed and spat the remaining bile onto the floor.
"My… my sister-?"
Abigail stopped complaining. The embarrassed silence was more painful than her uncaring chatter.
"They- they haven't found her. She disappeared the night you went out and all they found was a few scraps of clothing and some blood. They think the beast got her before it attacked you and the other one."
"My sister wasn't killed by any simple animal," I gave her a cold glare, "She was murdered by a monster.
…
Abigail, to her credit, let me rest for the remainder of the day before telling Master Lemon and the Constable that I had woken up. Time to grieve is a luxury rarely afforded to servants, and things had only gotten worse while I had been out.
Children had gone missing along with men, horses, and men on horses. The town spent each night as if under siege. I, and many others spent our nights standing guard around the edges of town. Even in daytime few were willing to leave their homes, and when they did, they did so in armed groups of three or four.
It was three nights after I awoke from my own terrifying adventure that the town leader discovered his youngest daughter was missing. An alarm was sounded; all able-bodied men were to comb the area for her. I was sent to fetch the preacher.
………
There was a light in the preacher's window, and I pounded on the door and called out to him. He gave no answer. I peered in the window. I could see a candle, still tall and fresh. He couldn't have gone far. I climbed through the open window.
I looked around. Everything seemed in its place. His cloak and hat hung by the door and a plate of untouched bread and cheese sat on the table. I heard a movement from below. I slowly approached the cellar door. No light shone from the slats of the door. I cautiously opened it and called out, half-expecting a lost raccoon to dart past me.
Instead the candlelight behind me illuminated the figure of the preacher, slicing open the stomach of the missing child.
I cried out in horror. He lurched his head up and the candlelight glinted in his eyes and gave them a hellish gleam. He violently tossed the girl's body aside and ran at me with his knife in hand. I turned quickly on my ankle and lurched for the door. He sprang up the staircase with incredible speed and caught me at the door. He dug his blade deep into my shoulder.
I gave a yelp and spun around. I punched him in the side of his face. It took him by surprise and we both tumbled to the floor.
The knife clattered next to us. I reached for it but he grabbed me around the throat and threw me aside with inhuman strength. He had the knife again in an instant and came at me again.
I kicked him in the stomach and made another go for the door. My shoulder was bleeding profusely and I slipped in my own puddle of blood. The preacher took advantage of my clumsiness and buried his knife deep into my calf.
I screamed in pain.
I heard the sound of many feet running in our direction.
The preacher was on my back, his knees pinned to my spine. I felt him rip the knife out of my leg.
Someone hollered outside. The preacher paused and two men broke open the door. The crowd tumbled into the cabin.
We were all frozen in shock and just stared stupidly at each other. The crowd at the blood-spattered preacher holding a knife over my head, and us at a good half of the town piled onto the doorstep.
After an endless moment the doctor shook of his shock, swung his musket, and knocked the knife out of the preacher's hand. The others poured the rest of the way into the cabin. Three men pulled the preacher off my back and another pair pulled me off the floor away from him.
"What happened? Why did he stab you? What's going on?" The questions came.
"The basement… I saw him killing her in the basement!" I wheezed. A pair of men with lanterns ran down the stairs. They shouted up the stairs in horror.
The town leader ran down there after them, and soon the sound of his sobs could be heard from the darkness below.
One of the men holding onto the preacher punched him in the face and shouted brutal insults.
The preacher did not say a word. He just smiled. He did not say a word or change in countenance when the townsfolk cried for his immediate lynching. He did not blink when the justice of the peace stopped them and demanded he be given a proper trial. His smile never wavered when the men gently carried the slaughtered girl's body up from the cellar or when the women cried out in anger and sorrow as he and the body were lead through the streets to the town hall.
I think he was laughing at us.
………..
(Author's note: It has been a full year since I originally outlined this chapter. I was on a bus to work in the Magic Kingdom when I outlined how the Wine Ghost, who I call "Gregory", discovered that the preacher was behind the brutal murders. Of course, between my writing it and the end of work, I was caught in a downpour and my words were washed away. Since then I lost interest in Lemon Tea. I even thought about just forgetting the whole project. But I'm back! I was goaded to take it up again by a short list of people on DA and FF who all asked if it would ever be finished. It would be rather rude to leave the project with so many things hanging in the air! What was I thinking? Sure, I know how the Wine Ghost's tale ends, but you guys don't! So here it is, the long awaited chapter Ten. Here's to hope chapter eleven won't take another year!)
((P.S. I hope you'll forgive any problems in the story flow. It HAS been a whole year since I've worked on the chapter.))