CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
~ Freedom ~
Every day she watched from her bedside the changes and transitions of the sky from brightness to darkness, from the fluffy white clouds dotting the blue skies to the dark clouds and its torrential downpours. She saw the stars and all moon cycles countless times.
Time flew, but Meryl's mind and body remained in a catatonic state while going through her daily motions of either staying in her room or being perched by the bay window in the parlor. Often she had to be reminded to eat or drink as she had lost complete interest in anything earthly.
Meryl and Alexander drifted apart. Their interactions grew more distant to the point where it was just civil and polite. That separation partially instigated by Meryl began as early as after the last day they spent in bed together when he held Meryl and was told that she had miscarried. Meryl utterly withdrew into herself and even she did not understand why she reacted this way. She went through many emotions from sadness, anger, self-denial and self-hate which only much later after all damages was done grew to acceptance. She grieved because she had all these hopes and dreams for herself as a mother. She had that picturesque image of herself sitting in the parlor with Alexander bouncing a baby on his leg, but at the same time she was eaten alive by relief that her pregnancy was unsuccessful which in turn made her feel guilty and ashamed. She was relieved that no baby came from this union. That relief unraveled a series of questions, insights and observations that spread like cracks which began to destabilize the foundation of her marriage to Alexander. Was this marriage meant to be and did she really love?
Meryl brushed aside his advances, from the slightest physical contact from a gentle stroke on the cheek or on the arm, to the kisses or tender embraces, all efforts from Alexander side faded the more she rejected him. She grew frustrated of his advances as they came across more selfish than soothing. He too grew frustrated and impatient, even desperate for her touch that he often sought out just a brush of her skin. She knew that the rejection was hurting him, she saw it in his eyes and body language, but she felt nothing and could not reciprocate.
Evidently as man he did not understand the emotional toll of a miscarriage. He stumbled at first coming to terms with it but no sooner got right back up and running due to work, yet was a changed man. He had become a stoic version of himself and also left the house more. He was regularly summoned for weeks on end to New York. It was very hush-hush and Meryl began to wonder if it really was business related.
She had seen him come back on numerous occasions drunk to the point of oblivion and other times seen him coming back with a big grin on his face and dressed immaculately for some party that she of course wasn't invited to. In her moment of clarity that was not as frequent as she hoped but grew with time as she accepted her miscarriage, she caught a whiff of his clothes that smelled of smoke, sweets, meats, liquor and foreign sweet floral perfumes. She even found a few times long strands of brown and blond hair on his coats. She understood that life had to go on after a loss, but it angered her that he went behind her back to cheat on her and have fun while she was pulled into a maelstrom of emotions and depression. The distrust between the two grew pronounced as he never spoke to her about his plans anymore or told her where he went, he would only let her know that he was leaving and that he would return on the said date and nothing else.
By the time they were estranged with each other, they slept in separate rooms. She barely recognized him and he probably barely recognized her too.
Alexander's alcoholism became a problem when he transformed from a sullen, depressive and numb man into an irritable, irrational, haughty and loud drunk. He would barricade himself in his study, mumbling angrily to himself while throwing in rage and amusement empty glasses against his book shelves, shattering them to bits. Books were being thrown against the wall and papers knocked over to the ground, furniture thrown about, they had replaced the coffee table three times and by the fourth time they had it removed completely. Alexander's beautiful study had become a patchwork of mended bookshelves and desks, they even added a carpet to floor covering the visible dents he had done with the hot poker from the fire place. Thank God he hadn't in his demented state started a fire, but everyone was on edge with him, no one slept until all sounds ceased and even if they did, everybody worried about his well being. And the next day he was a muted and withdrawn version of himself, speaking softly and with civility.
Meryl feared that the escalation in his temper would eventually lead to violence against a human being that happens to be in his proximity, the servants and herself.
Because he had become so unpredictable everyday she (and the domestics) lived in fear that he would lash out, so everyone kept their distance while avoiding any confrontation with him. She never thought that a person, or man even, could strike so much terror in her everyday life that by the slightest creaking of the floor board when he passed or when he spoke, her heart would freeze.
Meryl could not live like this anymore.
One night, the front door rang and Meryl happened to be still awake and reading in the parlor. The domestics rushed to the door.
"Where's my wife!" yelled out the drunken voice of Alexander from below.
Julia ran up the stairs and knocked at the door of the parlor. Meryl got up quickly with her heart racing and with her limbs growing weak with unease. She opened the door and without a word went downstairs to the entrance hall, where Alexander was leaning against the wall in a clumsy manner. His pale skin was flushed; his green eyes were aflame from the alcohol.
"Bring me to our bed, wife."
"I think you should sleep in your bed -"
"SILENCE!" he barked and staggered over to the staircase, glaring up at Meryl. "This is my home, I can sleep wherever I please, wife! Now bring me to our God damn room at once!"
Meryl took a deep breath, keeping a steady eye on him and then helped him, although he yanked his arm from her hand and staggered up the stairs by himself.
He stormed into the room while peeling his coat off and roughly discarding it on the floor. He plopped down on a nearby seat with an exasperated groan while Meryl stood at the door way, nervous about what he might do.
"Help me." He barked another order, his angry darted over to her.
Meryl disapprovingly crossed her arms, studied his glaring eyes for a moment while internally everything told her to run away. With a groan she closed the door behind her and collected his coat, folded it and draped it nicely on another seat and walked over to him.
He stomped his boots expectantly. She kneeled and pulled off his boots without a word and without looking at him. She got up and was about to take a few steps away precaution but he seized her arm, using it to pull himself up.
"My shirt." He pulled the shirt out of his breeches.
She clenched her teeth and helped him by pulling his shirt from the hems and over his slender torso. Her fingers accidently grazed his hot skin, she gasped softly, having forgotten how warm he was. She saw the corner of his mouth tug into a smug smile and she felt his penetrative gaze tracing her face. She pulled the shirt over his shoulder and as she raised the shirt over his head, they finally made eye contact and her heart shrank to the pit of her stomach.
His green eyes were sharp but glazed from the liquor and his face had a sheen of presperation but there was a predatorial and cocky look in his eyes that disarmed her.
"Remove your garments."
"Alex-
"Do as I say."
"No!" Meryl backed away, her trembling voice betraying her fear.
"Do as I say, woman!"
"No!" Meryl retorted. "You are drunk. Get some sleep!"
He went silent for a moment, his eyes lowered then he suddenly clenched his fist and then with a growl he charged towards her. He grabbed her and with a ferocity of a brute tore open the front of her dress revealing her stay and bulging cleavage. Meryl cried out in shock but he shoved her on the bed, pinning her down with his body.
"Alex stop it! Get off me!" she exclaimed, struggling against his body. "I don't want this!"
He brusquely smothered her mouth with his hand, his wide and almost maniacal green eyes searing down into her terrified grey eyes. His other hand glided along her curves making her whimper. He maintained eye contact as he undid the front flap of his breeches.
"You will not deny what is rightfully mine." He lowered his lips to her ear and breathed with a growl.
Meryl flinched and whimpered with fright, tears forming in her eyes. Her body shook and she lost all control of her limbs. He pushed up her dress and with a grunt forced himself into her. Meryl cried out in pain while Alexander sighed almost rolling his eyes back with pleasure.
In his distraction, Meryl struggled and resisted and managed to yank his hand from her mouth and she cried out with a panic.
"Edith! Julia! Help me, please!"
A loud slap rang and she was silenced immediately. Her face was tilted to the right with her left cheek growing red and swollen. Then he forcefully grabbed her face in vice like grip around her lower jaw, forcing her to look him in the eyes. His deranged green eyes stared at her menacingly.
"One more cry and I will break your jaw." He growled, bearing his teeth to her like an animal.
A sob escaped her mouth which he crushed with his lips, his tongue exploring her mouth ruthlessly. Heavy tears fell and her body shook uncontrollably from fear. Her strength left her, paralysis set in and once again she internally withdrew.
Sickening pangs of pleasure brought her back to consciousness from time to time. She moaned and felt the pleasure ride her body, but there was no satisfaction or joy, just disgust, anger and shame. She willfully withdrew, remembering flashes of his predatory and sadistic green eyes and his callous hands. He was insatiable and cruel, giving no care to her pleas or pain and just fucked her into a lifeless rag doll.
He thrusted one last time and he exploded into her as she lay face first and hips raised in his direction. With a last grunt, he pushed himself from her and collapsed into slumber on the bed, while Meryl's body crumbled beside him. Under the waves of her matted hair plastered against her tear stained face, her grey eyes bore the emptiness of a thousand yard stare.
Weeks had passed, she was sure of it and no news of Alexander. What had happened that night left a deep imprint on her mind. It made her realize what person she had become, how she became weak and dependent on an abusive and controlling man. Anger and self-hate spread through her system like a poison. She was a Marine for fuck's sake and had allowed a man to hit her and rape her at the same time. The sickening part of this was that she felt it was justified because she had shut him out for so long.
She spent her days wasting away at the parlor with her books that she didn't even care about. She hadn't even gone out since the miscarriage had happened. Edith and Julia knew what had happened to her several weeks ago and didn't say a word. They encouraged her to go out but she had no energy or desire to do so.
However, one day as she passed by Alexander's study, she felt something tugging her to go inside. The door was parted open. She went inside, the scent of brandy floating in their air as probably carpet was stained from it. She surveyed the dents on his bookshelf and other furniture, imagining him going ballistic like caged animal desperately trying to claw itself to freedom. She strode over to his once beautiful carved mahogany desk that was now littered with dents, scratches and gashes caused surely by a knife. She found piles of letters, newspapers and his accounting books wide open. Most of them were invitations which he was in the process of responding to. She saw no suspicious letter that indicated to him having an affair but she spotted a beautiful choker that gleamed against the Fall sunlight. It was a dark cloth band with an ornately carved silver bezel with a blood red gem, likely a ruby, at its center. She held it in her hand and marveled at it, there was something gothic about it, then out of impulse she brought it to her nose and sniffed it.
There was a distinct floral, musky scent about it.
She didn't want to jump to conclusion, but her faith in Alexander had long ago disappeared. This discovery was the equivalent of finding a stranger's bra or panty in one's boyfriend's couch or car. She involuntarily clenched her fist with the jewelry in it hoping anger would flood her system but instead disappointment swept over her and she loosened her hand as a heaviness and numbness seized her limbs and heart.
After all this, he gave up on her. She wasn't good enough not even for a man of his caliber… Of course, she wasn't. She had no social standing whatsoever and no title in this world and to top it off she had a miscarriage too. Connections, lineage and heirs, that's what the 18th century was all about, at least in the upper class.
It began to dawn on her that both had rushed into this marriage without clear thought or being certain of their commitment to each other, more importantly she realized that she made a grave mistake even being in a marriage with him. What if one day she was thrown back into the 21st century, leaving behind not only a husband but children? The thought of it almost made her cry. She was even surprised that she responded to this in such an emotional way. It only meant that the pregnancy and the miscarriage had awoken in her a maternal and paternal love that she thought she wasn't capable of.
Nevertheless, for the sake of her sanity and Alexander's reputation, she must divorce him and disappear from his life, but for that to happen she must get back in physical and mental shape.
It was October now. Autumn was as fleeting as she remembered back in 21st century on the east coast. One moment it was still warm and then by mid-October the temperature dipped. Most of the leaves had changed to bright yellow and red while some of their counterparts already showed their dark and bare scraggly branches.
In that time that had passed, Meryl regained most of her physical strength to the point that it utterly elevated her morale and the domestics rejoiced in her newfound energy. It was difficult to train as she had to do it at night in secret and in the confines of her bed room. She alternated between building muscles, improving her flexibility, Kung Fu and Tai Chi. It was a slow and painful process, but she never felt so alive and rejuvenated. Her knife that she had hidden away under a loosened floor board was finally taken out of its dusty resting place. Having the blade strapped to her right thigh gave her a peace of mind and empowered her, especially to defend herself against Alexander's now unpredictable mood swings.
Before she knew it, it was announced that Alexander would return home in the evening. He was coming back from his trip from Charleston in South Carolina. He wrote to Edith saying that he stopped by New York for again some "urgent business matter" (my ass). He didn't even bother to apologize or send Meryl a letter in the time that he was away. That night still haunts her sleep and has given her many sleepless nights.
Meryl was determined to get out of this toxic relationship and environment, even if it meant suffering a beating, however this time she was prepared.
The doorbell rang and everyone had gathered at the door, even Meryl with her hands folded before her. The door opened and in strolled Alexander looking as daper and charming as always, dressed in his tailored dark coat paired with black breeches and gleaming brown riding boots. He was all smiles, greeting Edith warmly and giving her a gift from New York. However, the moment Alexander's green grinning eyes caught Meryl's, they turned grave, he briefly acknowledging her with a glance before passing her and heading towards his study.
"Edith, bring me some tea and I wish not to be disturbed until dinner." He called behind his shoulder and shut the door behind him.
Edith and Julia looked on, Meryl felt their gazes on her. When she raised her eyes, Edith cleared her throat which caught Meryl's attention.
"Ma'am, shall I bring some tea to the parlor as well?"
Meryl stood there quietly, thinking what to do. She looked in the direction of Alexander's study which was on the ground floor. He was probably exhausted, so out of consideration she decided to wait an hour before talking to him.
"Yes, please. I shall wait in the parlor until dinner as well."
"As you wish, ma'am."
Edith and Julia left in a rush for the kitchen, while Meryl lingered in the entrance way. She turned around, held the wooden rail of the stairs. Her eyes shifted again in the direction of Alexander's study. She sighed deeply, her eyes downcast and she made her way up to the parlor.
When the grandfather clock struck 5 PM, she placed her stitching down. Yeah, stitching, quite a domestic scene! Her 21st century friends would throw a fit if they saw this, but it was the only mindless entertainment that was automatic and mechanical requiring no thought. It got rid of that restless buzz in her head.
She looked down, gliding her fingers over the imperfect stitching of some field flowers. She took another breath to steady her hammering heart. She got up and headed for the door. She patted down her right side along her thigh, checking for the knife, which was still there. Knowing his temper, she needed that back up in case he lashed out.
She left the room and quietly made her way down the stairs. Edith and Julia were too busy cooking and chattering to notice her. She strode over to his study which was the first door behind a corner beyond the main stairs of the house. It turned into a hallway which towards the end led to Julia and Edith's sleeping quarters.
Meryl stood in front of his door and took a deep breath. She grabbed the handle and pressed down, but it was jammed.
"I told you not to disturb me until dinner." His barked from inside the room.
"It's me Alex, open up." She responded calmly.
Silence followed and Meryl already felt a little discouraged, but after a moment she heard his footsteps approaching the door. The creaking of the lock followed by his receding footsteps ensured her to enter the room. She opened the door and stepped in, closing it behind her to face him. He was standing in front of his desk with his back facing her, reading letters from his hands. He was dressed down to his loose fitting white ruffle shirt. His caramel brown vest was tossed aside on the sofa.
"I am busy." He said in a curt tone.
"I know, you always are, so I will keep it short."
Alexander turned around and he knew something was up as he kept a grave face. Meryl held her head high, her eyes steady and her body composed although her heart wanted to break out of her rib cage.
"I want a divorce."
The silence and tension dropped like a ton of bricks. Meryl almost couldn't breath but she kept her gaze fixed on him. The most amazing transformation of emotions passed through Alexander's eyes and body language. He remained stony for a few seconds until is face grew slack with shock and even a little color vanished from his face. A little too abruptly he leaned back against the front of his desk, his hands fumbling about to steady himself while accidentally knocking over some papers to the floor.
"What?" his voice croaked.
"You heard me, I want a divorce." She reiterated in a firm tone still maintaining eye contact with Alexander's off guard green eyes.
She watched as his lightly trembling fingers ran through his auburn hair that had become disheveled in the hour that he had spent in his study. His eyes fell down the ground, staring right through it until he raised them to meet her, his green eyes were pleading now.
"Why?" he asked, his voice still quiet with a bewildered expression in his face.
"Are you serious, Alex?"
She stepped further into the room with her arms crossed over her chest. His behavior infuriated her, he made her look like the bad guy.
"Did you forget what happened?!" her voice steadily rose.
He gaped at her as if he did not recall or realize what he had done wrong. His face showed a mix of emotions varying from shame, regret and frustration but at the same time he appeared distant in the coldness of his airs. Was he that blind or in utter denial of what he did to her?
Then she spotted a little glass with some dark liquid sitting on his desk.
"Are you drunk now?!" she exclaimed with exasperation.
He turned his head over to look to the glass. His shaking hand grabbed for the glass but Meryl ran over and seized it from his clumsy hold.
"Give that back to me!" he suddenly growled lashing out with his reach arm but Meryl had backed away with it at a safe distance.
She placed the glass on the shelf and glared at him.
"I've had enough of this! Stop drinking and get your shit together!"
He brusquely stood up and yelled at her with a trembling rage.
"Shut your mouth! You cannot tell me what to say or what to do!"
Meryl snorted.
"I have as much as right as anyone, especially as your wife! Now whether you like it or not, I want that divorce!" she now countered back at him with impatience. "I've had enough of you, enough of this horrible life as your wife!"
"Horrible?" he remarked with a snicker. "You sound like those spoiled wenches in London! Have I not provided enough luxuries to satisfy you?"
"Are you kidding me?" she argued back at him. "Do you think that wealth, luxuries as you call it, matter to me? You absolutely know nothing about me after all this time! I was happy even growing up with a tenth of what you had, maybe not even!"
"Then if luxury repulse that much, why are you indulging in it?"
Meryl groaned in irritation.
She tore out the pins that held up her hair, she undid the necklace and any jewelry and threw them on the ground before her. She pulled off her shoes and her silky shawl and threw them aside.
"This is what your society expects me to wear! You've brainwashed me into believing that I MUST look the part and that's what I did! I had to sacrifice not only my comfort but myself to live a life style that is as soul crushing and stifling as this fucking stay! I bared through for your sake! I even at the peril of my death, saved your God damn life on that God damn boat!"
"Is that what this is about, you getting back at me for my lack of gratitude?"
Meryl huffed with disbelief.
"Alex, I can't believe what you are saying, are you that ignorant and oblivious to what happened to me?!"
"I am not, the difference here is that I handle the matter like the man of this house, I am evidently more mature than you, so I must set an example to you."
Meryl's mouth fell open.
"Since when has our marriage or even out relationship been about hierarchy and status? Where did this come from, Alex? Isn't marriage about sharing responsibilities and duties?"
Alexander released a derisive snicker that humiliated Meryl.
"My dear, your ignorance astounds me! Even the lowest of the low know how the world works."
"I thought you married me for that reason!" she stepped forward to reinforce her point, "you married me clearly because I was not one those High society English ladies that bored you to death!"
He sniggered one more time, the condescending jeer in his face rendering him completely foreign to her.
"Not only have I married an ignorant woman with no connections whatsoever, but a delusional one as well!"
Meryl clenched her fists.
"Shut the fuck up, you scum Aristocrat!" she roared back at him. "I don't even recognize you anymore! Is that who you really are, one of those bastard aristocrats with a superiority complex?"
Meryl was bewildered by Alexander's complete change in character and personality. He was the exact encapsulation and stereotype of what the colonists hated about the aristocrats. She couldn't understand what was happening and even wondered if a body double had swapped places with him. She groaned and raised her sharp eyes at him.
"I get it now. You are frustrated and understandably the excessive drinking and partying is your way to cope and escape reality…" She stated with a grave face, now it was her turn to bust out the guns and strike him down "But by indulging in these activities, you have shown to me and to the world what a coward you are!"
Alexander's eyes went wide and his body went stiff, even the knuckles on his fists gradually turned whiter the harder he clenched.
"You have your family legacy breathing down your neck, you have to lick the boots of stubborn and uncooperative investors and to top it all you married an unruly wife who is ignorant and delusional of the ways of society and the world." she supplied and grabbed the glass with the liquor in it while surveying him now with a taunting look in her eyes.
Meryl took a sip from the glass and sighed as it warmed her stomach and burned her throat. The escalating tension in Alexander's body and his clenched jaw and wide glaring eyes signaled his imminent explosion which Meryl was ready to for.
"So, what do you do? You go for the easy target, the wife of course, because she is a woman, a secondary citizen and easily to control, she is devoted to you and maybe in love which is a bonus and therefore easy to mold according to your standards. You did the best you could, but she failed because she has no connections and she miscarried which you had no control over and suddenly you realize after all that effort that she can't be your perfect wife…"
Meryl downed the contents of the liquor and slammed the glass on the nearest table.
"At least this ignorant and delusional wench is breaking away from her leash and divorcing from an insecure, vane and abusive monster!" she declared with a firmness and stormed for the door.
However, Alexander lunged over grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her back roughly causing her to cry out.
"You will regret your insolence!" he shouted in her ear. "You still haven't learned your lesson. You will submit to me!"
He locked the door and yanked her back into the room by her hair.
"Edith! Julia! Help!" cried Meryl, but she was quickly spun around and a sharp slap across her cheek made her stumble to the ground before she was hoisted back up and slammed against the bookshelf.
"Alex! Stop it!" she cried out but he slapped her across the cheek again stunning her into silence.
He pressed his body against hers, cornering her while his predatory gaze and smirk held her attention.
"No matter how much you call for help, no one will come." He breathed with a demented and psychotic expression that chilled her blood.
Her limbs shook and an early stage of paralysis began to seize her body.
He grabbed her roughly by the lower jaw, tightening his grip, pressuring her teeth and jaw bone.
"If you had dutifully submitted as a wife should, then none of this would be happening."
His hand immediately darted under her dress and without warning he rammed his fingers inside her. Meryl seized up and then the terror and rage boiled over unleashing a deafening scream which he silenced by slamming his flat palm over her mouth. The impact of the palm caused the back of her head to shatter the protective glass door covering the ancient tomes, it frazzled her consciousness for a split second but she quickly retaliated by suddenly grabbing a book and smacking him across the face with it. He yelled grabbing his face. Meryl shoved him hard so that he stumbled backwards and that she had room to sprint out of his reach.
When he moved his hands from his face, showing a bleeding gash on the outer corner of his eyebrow and looking down on the blood in his hands, revenge took over his entire being.
"You whore! You will pay!"
"Here's your chance to kill me, you abusive cunt!" she challenged him with her arms wide open and he charged at her.
He lunged for her, but she punched him hard in the solar plexus making him gasp for air and stagger. In the moment that he hunched over to hold his stomach, she delivered a sharp upper cut to his face making him almost lift off the ground and stagger backwards, catapulting himself against the bookshelf behind him.
The glass cracked and exploded all over him, but Meryl wasn't done. She grabbed him, dragged over to the ground and then kicked him two times in his sides.
Alexander yelled and retched blood on the floor, his eyes wide with terror, shock but also blind rage.
Meryl backed away from him, but he managed to grab a fistful from her dress and yank her down to the ground.
He climbed on top of her and then delivered a punch to her face.
For a split second, Meryl lost consciousness but she came back, stunned that he punched but also at the same time not surprised that he did that. She chortled with defiance despite the pain in her face.
"Satisfied now." She glared at him, managing a smug smirk at him.
"What are you?" he glowered and seized her by the neck to choke her "Did that nigger and savage teach you to fight like a brute?"
Meryl began to laugh although it came out as croaking while maintaining her smug expression. Her eye was swelling up and so was her cheek.
"What is so amusing?"
"Beat me all you want. You have no idea, who you are messing with-
Another punch hit her in the face, her laugh stopped for a second but then resumed with more force and condescension. Alexander's body trembled with escalating rage while at the same time appearing disturbed by Meryl's reaction to him. Despite the bloodied lip, the swelling eye, gashed cheek, she was mocking him.
Her eyes darted to his and then she pulled out her knife and swiped it across, cutting him in the upper shoulder. He yelled once more, grabbing the gash and scrambled over to the fireplace, grabbing the hot poker and raising it with his uninjured arm battle ready.
"Who are you and what are you?" he demanded.
Meryl slowly got up to her feet, she took the knife, wiped off the blood and cut off the outside part of her dress, opening it to allow her more mobility.
"No matter how many times you hit me, I will always stand up and strike back." She growled. "You will never have me and I will show how much damage a woman can do to you."
She raised her knife, grabbed a bunch of her hair and passed the knife straight through, loping off her long locks that had reached her lower back. She dropped the locks on the floor and she smirked in his direction.
"Nobody will believe you that a woman injured you, nobody will you believe you that I cut off my hair. All this will be incriminating evidence that will forever label you as the abuser that you are."
"You demon!" he charged at her with the hot poker.
Their blades locked with each other. They pressed and struggled against them.
"If I had known that you were such a violent person, I wouldn't have married you!"
"Right back at you, Alexander."
He grunted and pushed her hard, she lost her footing and the glowing red tip of the poker grazed her skin enough for her to scream in pain. For a split second, the injury he inflicted stunned him, but in his distraction, she charged at him with a yell delivering hammering punches and kicks to his torso and face until he dropped to his knees.
He looked up at her with his wide vulnerable and scared green eyes that looked ever more jarring against his battered and bloodied face. She yanked him by his hair, roughly raising his head making sure that she could glower down into his terrified eyes.
"You want to know who I am, you abusive fuck. I am Meryl Briar. I am a trained soldier from the U.S Marine Corps from the 21st century." She declared, she raised her knife to his frantic eyes. "Your kind doesn't scare me. I have killed cunts like you in the battlefield."
She saw his eyes growing teary from the fear as the blade now hovered at his pulsing neck.
"In one swipe I could bleed you dry," she mused through clenched teeth, her eyes wide with a berserk look "but it gives me enormous satisfaction to see that helpless and pleading look."
She exhaled, studying his face, feeling the tremor of his breath against her face. The blood thirst faded quickly when she saw him in such a pitiful state and her face hardened.
"How does it feel when karma gets back at you. May you suffer from regret and farewell."
She flipped her blade and hit him with the handle in the face, effectively knocking him out.
On cue, yells from soldiers mixed with the shrieking domestics erupted from behind the rattling locked door. The door rattled with every kick that the soldiers began to deliver. She ran for the window, opened it and leaped out into the cold night air. She whimpered screwing up her landing and limped away as fast as her body could carry her.
An unusual fog hung in the air that easily concealed her escape. She ran and ran, icy tears silently streaming down her eyes. She didn't look back and kept running with the exhilaration of true freedom coursing through her revitalized body and mind.
No more pretense, no more frilly clothes, no more mannerism – just pure and unadulterated Meryl.