I present to you a new chapter, with a terrible cliff-hanger. I figured I've still a long holiday in front of me so I should offer you all a late Christmas present that comes to you earlier than it would have if I had waited until I was finally home from this lovely long holiday.
I request a present from you all, not killing me for the cliff that awaits you at the end of this chapter.
"Babes, as long as you're wearin' my ring yer not leavin' this place."
Strange snippets of their conversations—if they could be called that—floated through her mind. She was too scared to allow herself to fall asleep completely, and instead drifted into that hazy place where dreams and reality meet in a strange and confusing dance.
She rolled over, confused, wondering if he were in the room with her talking or if that was part of her almost-dream. She was used to a large king sized bed at home, Delia had bought it for her and Charles but then decided she wanted one of those hip, new air mattresses and Lydia got the shuff-off. This bed was hardly a twin and she promptly rolled out of it and hit the floor with a yelp as she came fully awake.
She saw where she was, remembered all that had happened and wished she could have stayed asleep. She saw the ring on her finger and the smudges of blood from her attempt to pull it off. She wondered if she were desperate enough to free herself of this terrible bondage to cut the finger off—then wondered where she would even get the knife from.
"Babes, as long as you're wearin' my ring yer not leavin' this place."
If she could find a knife it would certainly be worth the effort, she wasn't left handed anyway. She glanced around the small room and could see only the tiny window and the bed and a crooked table that was more leaning against the wall than standing. She took a step closer to the table and knocked it to the floor, the legs sagging in different directions.
With one foot on the surface she braced herself and grunted with the engery, struggling to rip one of the legs off.
The wood groaned and creaked in protest but nothing happened. She let go, took a deep breath and tried again, using all the strength at her disposal and finally the leg snapped off. She cried out in surprise at first and again in pain as she flew backwards and crashed into the opposite wall, her head slamming against the wood and for a moment she saw stars.
The pain was easy to ignore, she had her prize and that was all that mattered and within her breast her heart was beating so fast she could feel it slamming into her ribs, pumping adrenaline through the whole of her system. She had a plan, not a very good one, but a plan.
She hefted the leg, wondering if it was too light for the job she planned for it.
No matter.
She climbed onto the small bed, splaying her feet so she didn't wobble quite so much and swung with all her might at the glass.
She had never been one for sports but when she was small she used to be on the softball team at her mother's insistence. It was always strange that Lydia could remember her mother forcing her to play softball—you'll make friends, no one cares if you play badly—but she couldn't recall her mother's face without looking at a photo.
Swing!
The glass cracked, like safety glass on a windshield. Spiderwebs spread over the surface and she could hear it crackling and breaking. She grinned viciously, startled at the seven hundred tiny reflections that grinned back at her. She swung again. It cracked more and now she shifted, hoisting the table leg more like a battering ram, throwing all her force into every movement.
Glass exploded towards her, wind screamed and the whole house seemed to shake. She was thrown once more into the wall and fell with the tinkling bits of glass to the floor, sheilding her face with battered and bloody hands.
The ring burned her finger and she screamed finally and then silence prevailed.
She looked up and the window looked out into the most unnatural darkness she had ever seen, and she shied away from it, uncertain even in her hatred that Betelgeuse was the worst out there. She knelt among the glass and looked for a shard that could serve her purposes and finally stumbled upon one as it stuck into her palm. She hissed in pain and pulled it out, a long shard, thick and maybe sharp enough that she could use it like a knife.
She used it to saw at the edge of the flannel shirt she still wore and wrapped the scrap of fabric around one end. Every knife needed a handle. She gripped it tightly and even through the layers of fabric she could feel the hard edge of the glass.
She pressed her left hand hard to the floor and wondered if she should bring the knife down hard like a guillotine blade or if she should press slowly like chopping a tomato.
She chose slowly, like a tomato and pressed the makeshift blade hard into the flesh. She couldn't watch and it took most of her self control to try and remind herself that this was her only option.
"Lydia!" She looked up at the sound of her name, even though the person who called her was on the other side of her ramshackle door. The knife fell from her hand and she lunged at the door, tearing it open and nearly ripping it off it's rusted hinges. There, looking confused, bedraggled, and grateful all at once stood Barbara and Adam. She flew at them in a flurry of tears and laughter, trying to hug them both at once.
"We were so worried for you!" Barbara cried, cradling the sobbing girl in her arms, which here held substance.
"What's this, what happened?" Adam asked, gripping her left hand and inspecting the wounds she had already accumulated in her mad endeavor to save herself from being married to Betelgeuse. She explained the strange thing the monster said about his ring, and how she had tried to remove it, any way possible. How it might free her from his grasp.
"Oh, oh baby, no you don't need to do that. We are here now." Barbara comforted her. "We're going to save you and you don't need to worry about him, we won't let him take you. No again." Barbara promised and Adam agree, dropping a kiss into Lydia's hair, holding her and Barbara as well. Both women were shaking.
There was a smell like ozone and a pop that shook the floor. Betelgeuse stood in the center of the room, reeking of bourbon and gin and holding a small paper parcel, staring at the scene that was unfolding in what was unjustly called his living room. "What--"
"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you so much you horrible monster." Lydia shouted, grabbing hard to Barbara. "Take me away from here." She begged. One pale hand reached out for her on the part of the supposed Ghost with the Most.
"No, no don't!" He tried, but the wind swirled and screamed and Lydia felt it kick up under her and she whirled away, the wind buffeting her so hard she could hardly hold on to Barbara and Adam. She felt them pull away from her and hit the ground hard, sand shifting under her but not enough to soften her fall.
I know it's short but I wanted to end it here and it is out three weeks earlier than it was supposed to be, but anyway much love to you all and I hope your holidays are going well.