He lay in her morgue, subject to her study and her scalpel. One James Gillies, pronounced dead. She would take her time with him, letting the sharp blade in her hand cut away the layers of fear he'd once placed over her heart. The precision and detail involved in performing a post-mortem were a balm to her troubled spirit. The nightmares he inflicted upon her dissolved under the sterile light of scientific facts she uncovered for herself. There could be no doubts this time, no lies or liberties to stand in the way of her happiness. He would never again pop into her life to use that evil mind to torment her. Her days of worry were finally over.
Holding his brain in her hands, she regarded his face. "Well, Mr. Gillies, at long last I shall finally know where to find you whenever we next wish to meet. I do believe we'll keep each other in excellent company."
She suspected that's what drove him to come after herself and William over and over. In his own twisted way, he was merely seeking the company of a mind equal to his own. She and William had proven themselves that and better. Despite every trial inflicted upon them, their love and faith for one another held true. Their dealings with that monster were just as much a test of the heart as of intellect. It was as if, finding himself incapable of feeling any form of love of his own, he'd turned to feeding on their love-life like some kind of parasite. It was curious what aroused a man's passions. Knowing he'd been bested kept Gillies coming back for more.
"I'm not done with you yet." Gillies had spoken those chilling words.
A warm glow suffused her to know he was done now, willingly or not. There was nothing he could do to cause more pain. He was truly gone, and she and William were finally free of whatever madness that plagued Gillies. Never again would he threaten their lives, or trap them in cages, or test their love for one another.
He'd called the horrors he inflicted an experiment. Now the tables were turned, and he was under her research. She wondered if her enthusiasm for the task mirrored the pleasure Gillies derived from the harm he caused. No, she decided, her feelings were nothing the same as Gillies. His "experiments" were nothing more than unhealthy passions allowed to override rational thought, where as her work was a scientific pursuit meant to improve humanities understanding of itself.
She had perfect size jar for storing a brain. She would keep it right here on her desk, where she could see it every day. The next time doubts and fears came to prey upon her spirit, this brain would remind her of everything she had overcome. The memory of James Gillies was no longer a wound, but instead a reminder that she was strong, and above all else, that she was loved.