"Remember...."
Robert smiled nervously as he led the dark clad lady down the hall. Her request to tour Briarwood came out of nowhere as far as he knew but he had no reason to turn her down. He still believed his secret safe. After all, those who had known were either insane from the aftershock of the broken Ring or dying by some mysterious ailment. But still, he would rather not risk....
"And what was this?" His reverie was broken by the Queen's voice.
"Ahh. That was staff quarters." Shit. Not here. Anywhere but here.
"Open it."
"Yes ma'am." He opened the door with his jewel, ignoring her scrutiny at this strange, and extreme, method of locking. As far as she knew, this was a hospital for emotionally disturbed children. Hopefully, it would stay that way.
"This is an interesting room. Such a strange pen. Did you keep dogs, Robert?"
"Uh, yes Lady. For the children to play with." Shit, shit, shit. Could she not leave well enough alone?
She looked at him strangely, one brow uplifted. "How.... sweet." she said.
She continued down the hall, glancing in each room as she passed, commenting only slightly on the out of reach inner locks and large beds. Then she got to the room.
The room. That was what he called it. The room where everything fell apart. Daemon and his whey-faced bitch. Damn him.
She stopped at the room and looked inside, apparently lost in thought. He blinked then looked again. It almost seemed as if she had shrunk but that couldn't be. She turned around. "Don't you remember me, Uncle Bobby?"
Robert fell back as if slapped. It was Jaenelle. But she died, that night. How...? "I...I...don't understand." he said weakly, reeling from the blow to his composure.
"Of course not. " she said, almost skipping towards him. She placed her hand on his cheek.
All of the sudden, he felt a rush and his mind barriers shattered. He heard a deep seductive voice say softly, "Remember...and understand."
Like a nightmare, or some freakish vision, he saw a garden, two children with no hands, a noose with a girl still hanging in it, a bed of witch's blood. He saw his victims, young girls scared half to death, drugged senseless. Then, he was his victims. He felt the pain, physical and emotional. He experienced the false longing of safframate and each thrust of his tormentor. He fell to his knees, sobbing in pain. "No...Please, make it stop." he begged.
Again he heard the deep voice say, "You didn't make it stop. Or let it."
She began to chuckle, a throaty, sensual chuckle sounding strange from the body of a twelve year old girl, and Robert heard the click of her heels retreating. He collapsed onto the floor and screamed.