"Like a noose around my neck, The Fates have tied a string to you and me. It tightened around my roots and pulled me from the ground long enough for you to put the pomegranate seeds in my mouth. And I should want to make you bleed dear Hades, but all I keep on thinking is how good the darkness tastes to me. And when Spring has sprung, I'll use my powers to grow my roses with the sharpest of thorns, and you won't know what is happening until I make you bleed."

- Cambria Covell

…

Persephone

Christine had feared for this day; the very hour that the sleeping darkness inside of her would be discovered by another. But there was no doorway back in time, no way to undo the events that unfolded themselves like weeds shooting up between cracks on the sidewalk. They burst through cement wherever she walked, craning their tiny heads toward the sun so they could grow and prosper, so that they could truly begin to live. Was she not the equivalent of them, was she not a prisoner of Hades forced to create her own hell; was she not wiggling her way through cracks of bleeding torment, looking desperately for a crevice that led to the truth of it all – a path that led straight into the face of the sun?

She was frozen in place on the sidewalk, with Rosie's eyes locked onto her own. Unwarranted memories began to flood through her mind – a great dam that had been shattered by a sympathetic friend. Christine shook her head, closing her eyes – she did not want to think of them now, for she made time for them late at night – ruminations of the hidden horrors that made up the foundations of her life.

He was laughing, smashing her head against the cold rungs of the balcony…

All strength had been drained out of her and flowed into him; a chilling exchange of power.

You ugly little thing…you are nothing! No one would know if you died tonight, no one would even notice…they would replace you so effortlessly at the conservatory, with another woman that has straightened hair…would you like me to show you?

Do you want to see how meaningless you truly are?

Tears began to stream out and she was powerless to stop them; the words Rosie had said left her blind and ripped open, vulnerable and without clothing. She was naked beneath the autumn sky, dripping black sin from the confines of her chest. And Rosie would see. She would see all of it.

Do you want me to show you? Do you want to know how insignificant, how worthless you are to me – to your entire little fairy tale world?

Worthless.

An empty shell.

Nothing.

You are nothing.

Her eyes shot open, pushing the panic back to control it somehow; she could not let it run rampant, she could not let it control her. She begged it to leave, to give her a tiny piece of mind but it stayed, hovering over her – a disgusting personification of paranoia and guilt.

"Rosie," she whimpered, reaching out to touch something, anything that was stronger than she. Her hand caught Rosie's slender shoulder and gripped it, steadying herself upon shaking legs. "I…I…cannot speak about it. I cannot."

Rosie's eyes were swimming with tears, and she tenderly placed a hand over Christine's. "I will protect you," she whispered, tears dribbling down the pale white skin of her cheeks. "I will make sure no harm comes of you."

Christine could have cried again, even harder this time. Rosie accepted her, she believed her; she could finally see the poison that leaked out of her pores. "No," she managed to mutter, retracting her hand and wiping her face quickly. "No one must know. You can't tell anyone."

Rosie grabbed Christine by the shoulders, forcing her to look into the deep clear ocean of her eyes. "Christine, why? Why are you putting yourself through this? There must be a way out of this, there's always another way!"

Christine paused, wiping the rest of the runny mascara off of her cheeks. "I know that," she answered quietly, breathing deeply to settle the racing of her heart. She bit her bottom lip, scarred with the frequent bites of the past. "There might be a way, I don't know. But I have to go to the gala, tonight. There's something important I feel…I feel that I must do."

Rosie threw her hands in the air. "Christine, what could possibly be more important than this? I won't let you go home to him, I won't let…let him do anything else to you."

Christine grimaced at the thought of Raoul coming after her, smiling kindly to Rosie's mother to let him in. Oh, it was just a couple of fights. You know how hard marriage can be…but I love her, oh I love her so much! Please let me see her. Please…

"I'm not safe, not anywhere in this city from him. But listen to me, please listen…I think…there might be someone that can…can protect me."

Rosie's blonde eyebrows shot up. "Who? Who could possibly protect you other than me? I'm your best friend! Don't I matter?"

Christine looked lovingly upon her doe-eyed friend. "Of course you matter, Rose. I love you more than anyone. But I don't want to put you in danger. He's…he is dangerous. And he holds a lot of power. Your mother would never believe me…she would send me right back to him. And then…he would…" her voice trailed off, uncertain of what she might even say. What would he do that was crueler than what had already been done? Would he kill her? Would he beat her senseless, rape her, then slowly suffocate her with his pale veiny hands?

Christine grabbed Rosie's arm, forcing them to continue in the undertow of people that streamed along the sidewalk. "We need to follow the plan," she said firmly, biting her lip again. "I must get to the gala, tonight."

As they walked, Rosie continued to argue, with sudden anger that surfaced like a beast of the wild. "I don't understand, you're not explaining anything! Who can protect you from him? Who is more powerful than him?! And you're just expecting me to go along pretending like I don't know anything? Christine…he's hurting you, I can't…I can't just sit here and pretend! I won't!"

"After tonight, it won't matter," Christine said softly, closing her eyes to see his face once more. He hid behind the shadows of her lids, his body twisted awkwardly around on the piano bench, staring at her. She could see his lips, taste them, even…and his golden eyes glimmered behind the leather mask, mysterious, secretive…what darkness and blackened sin did he hold in the depths of his heart?

"Does this have to do with the Captain? The one he asked you to charm? Is this some fantasy that you think will rescue you from Raoul? What if he doesn't care, Christine? He's messed up, my mother even said so, I heard her talking about him! He wears a mask…he doesn't want any part of society, of the world!"

Christine turned her head sharply, glaring at Rosie. "You don't even know him," she hissed, narrowing her eyes. "He hurts as I do," she murmured, her eyes drifting off into the bright light of the morning.

Rosie released her arm, stepping in from of Christine to block any further steps. "Okay, am I missing something here? You act like you know him, somehow…when just a couple of minutes ago I mentioned him and you didn't say a word!"

Christine sighed. She pushed a stray curl away from her face, grabbing Rosie by the hand and forcing the two forward into the crowd. "I…I kind of met him," she admitted in hushed tones, pushing their stride into a brisk pace. "He moved into the penthouse, right above our apartment."

"You met him and you didn't tell me? Christine…what is going on? If you have some sort of plan, please tell me! You owe me that much."

"I do, and yet I do not," Christine said through a sigh, squeezing Rosie's arm. "You see, it was…quite outlandish, our meeting. Raoul had left, and I heard this strange music…this piano, it was…entrancing, I suppose you could say. So I went up to the roof to hear better, and…and there was a skylight, with the panes pushed open. I don't know what I was thinking, but I…it was like in fairy tales when someone is under a spell. But it felt so…good, it felt like…he was playing about my life. About me."

"Okay, so you're telling me you spied on him through his roof? Did he see you?" Rosie looked shocked, yet her eyes betrayed how intrigued she was. Christine smiled, chuckling a bit for the first time that morning. "It was kind of like spying, when you put it like that. But it was worse than spying, Rose. I crawled over to the opening and he was there, sitting with his back to me, playing. I could not stop listening, I tried to pull myself away, and then…then he stopped. And he turned around and saw me."

Rosie started to giggle, sharing in this secret wonder that Christine had discovered. "Oh my God. Did he say anything to you?"

"No," Christine confessed, her heart growing heavy with worry. "He just stared at me. I think he…he felt…violated, perhaps? Oh, I don't know…but he just sat and stared. It seemed like forever. I wanted it to last…I wanted to say something, but I couldn't find the words. His presence made me nervous, it made me sweat and feel…exposed," she chewed her lip as her mind searched for the right words. "But Rosie, I could see in his eyes, and his music…he felt as I did. He was living painfully, hidden away, just as I do. And I think he could see it in me too. It was…so strange. And now, I'm to meet him tonight, as per Raoul's orders. So I…I don't know what I will say to him, or what he might say to me."

They had reached the beauty salon, and they stood outside the double glass doors, sipping their coffee in silence. Rosie seemed to be thinking, Christine noted; but she did not know of what. Would her friend consider it intrusive? Rude, perhaps? Had she made the wrong move by putting this waking dream into words? Had she made it too real by speaking life into something so elusive, so odd yet so satisfying that the memory still tingled in the tips of her breasts?

Rosie let out a long sigh before finally speaking. "He must have thought you an angel. You know, like the ones you always tell me about. The ones that are hidden away, yet they watch over us. That's why he didn't say anything. Or…maybe he could not speak, maybe your beauty silenced him! Oh," she sighed, laying a hand upon Christine's cheek. "I see. I see the plan, now. You think Captain Vanderbilt can protect you. Or that he might want to…or need to…"

"Rosie!" Christine interrupted hastily, scanning the people that passed in throngs around them. "No, I mean…I just want to meet him. That's all."

"But you said you knew of someone who could protect you…"

Christine bit her bottom lip, averting her eyes from Rosie's. "I feel…connected to him, Rose. I don't know why, or how. And he is…quite powerfully built. He's strong, and passionate, and…and…"

Rosie giggled again. "It sounds like you've already fallen for him. Oh Christine, this is turning out to be everything I ever imagined," she sang through a smile, gesturing grandly. "Angel or not, let's make sure he cannot keep his eyes off of you, tonight. Oh! Maybe…maybe tonight is the most important night of your life. It may be the night where everything begins to change for you…now, I see, I see it, Christine!"

Christine sipped the last of her coffee, allowing her fantasy to run wild, for a moment. "That is all I've dreamt of since," she whispered, so low that Rosie could not hear over the bustle of automobiles. "I've only dreamt of him."

"Come on," Rosie chirped eagerly, pushing open one of the glass double doors to the salon. "Let's use your husband's money to make you into a living and breathing angel!" She laughed, shaking her head. The two young women disappeared in through the double doors, leaving a swirl of autumn leaves in their wake – the promise of something new, or a small sign from God that everything was already written; that all things needed to happen had already begun to take place.

…

A/N: To all of my amazing and precious readers and lurkers: I apologize for the late and rather short update. I am in the middle of moving out of state, so it's been a bit stressful. Nevertheless, I will continue to update as much as I can during the move. Thank you, every single one of you for reading, leaving thoughts, and sharing this journey with me.