End: Chapter Three:

Outside on the streets of the village, a young woman was seen. Victor recognised her as the greengrocer's daughter, Rose. Her father – Peter – was severely ill, and she was currently running his shop whilst he recovered. Victor recalled him being taken away by the doctor just a week ago, having collapsed from a supposed heart attack. Rose was standing against the wall of her fathers shop, a crate of potatoes and carrots at her feet. Her eyes were wide open, hands to her face as she screamed in terror at the sight unfolding before her.

She was looking at the centre of the village square, at the infamous stone horse statue. Staring at the base of it, she watched as something was rising from beneath the streets cobbles. It was like watching a creature hatching from an egg – as the cobbles began to crack and split as the creature slowly emerged in to the world.

The creature was definitely human. It was covered in the tattered remnants of a black jacket and white shirt, showing the rotting bones of its arms and ribs underneath. As it rose from the ground – arms and hands first – its head slowly appeared, its glowing eyes taking in the scene around it. A few village residents were running away in horror, dropping their boxes of fruits, vegetables and bread rolls as they went. The young woman continued to scream, as the creatures torso and legs were finally revealed, and it stood tall and proud, its eyes glowing with fury, anger, revenge and hate.

Victor continued to watch from the window, as Lord Barkis – in all of his dead and immortal glory – stood tall and demonic, searching for his prey. He was shrouded in some sort of dark, ebony black mist that rose from the ground and covered him like a cloak, swirling around his limbs like snakes.

"It's him. He's here" Victor whispered, pulling away from the curtains in case he was immediately seen. Emily didn't need to ask what he meant. She knew who Victor was talking about. Her eyes filled with fear and tears, as a shaking hand gently rose to her face as she covered her mouth in horror.

"Oh god" she trembled.

"What is it?" Patricia asked from behind, trying to push through the see the scene at the window.

"Patricia, take Emily and Christopher upstairs and lock yourselves in our bedroom. Use whatever furniture to barricade yourselves in, and don't come out until I say so" Victor gently ordered urgency in his voice.

"Why?" she asked, looking at Miss Plum who was now at the window. "What's going on?" She joined Miss Plum by the curtains and looked out, her breath escaping her body as she saw the tall zombie, slowly looking around the village square.

"Heavens above! It's him!" she cried. "He took Christopher!"

Victor and Emily looked at her in shock. So their suspicions were true.

"I remember it so clearly. Didn't I tell you? A 'dark misty spirit' snatched Christopher away, and look! It's definitely him. The height, the shape, the mist, everything! You must believe me!"

"We believe you" Emily immediately answered, still trembling with fear. "It's alright Patricia, there's no need to worry."

"What we need to worry about is staying safe. So, as I said. Patricia, can you take Emily upstairs to our room and lock…"

"No!" Emily objected. "I'm not locking myself up like a damsel in distress. I'm staying here, with you."

Victor paused, taking a deep breath. He could tell this was going to be tricky, getting Emily to safety. He knew she wouldn't go easily. He looked over to Patricia.

"Can you hold on to Christopher for a second please? Mayhew, Miss Plum, get away from the window before he sees you. And make sure the door is secured" Victor ordered. Patricia gently took Christopher from a bewildered Emily, and walked over to the nearby armchair and sat down with him. Miss Plum and Mayhew pulled away from the curtains and checked the front door, putting any locks and chain in places.

Victor took Emily by the hand and gently led her away from prying ears.

"This is dangerous, Emily. I don't want you getting hurt."

"I know it's dangerous. I know who this man is, remember?"

"But you're not dead anymore. I don't want him laying a single dirty finger on you, or our son."

"Well, I'm your wife and his mother, so if either of you are threatened, I'll do whatever it takes to defend you both. Locking me in the bedroom won't do anything, Victor. For either you or me. Why don't you send Patricia up there with Christopher, and I'll fight alongside you?"

"I just told you why. I don't want you getting hurt."

"That's for me to decide."

"And what if he…" Victor stuttered, this horrific image of Emily going against Lord Barkis – and losing. If he lost her and she was dragged back to the Land of the Dead with him – Victor couldn't even stomach the idea.

"What if he kills you? You can't be reanimated again, you'd be dead – permanently!"

"That's a risk I'll have to take. If it means that our son can live peacefully and safely, I will fight to the death to see that happen. Even if he kills me."

"I can't let that happen. Mayhew, Miss Plum and I will fight him but you, Patricia and Christopher must be safe." On his last three words, Victor grabbed Emily ferociously by the arm and started heading towards the staircase, leading to their bedroom. But Emily was just as strong as him.

"NO!" she yelled like an immature child, yanking her arm out of Victor grasp.

"Listen to me, Emily. I won't have this behaviour from you. Not when there's a murderer on our doorstep" he yelled back.

At the sound of their raised voices, Miss Plum, Mayhew and Patricia all turned round to see them arguing.

"And I won't have this behaviour from my husband. I am not a child, I am your wife!"

"That man out there is willing to kill anyone and anything in his path to get what he wants."
"Who says it's me he wants?! He took our son; he's here for Christopher!"

"Hence why you two should stay together."

"Barricaded, in a room? Like that's going to stop him! What happens if he hurts you, and everyone else standing in-between you and me? If he kills you, who's going to stop him getting to Christopher?"

Victor was silent. He never considered what would happen if he died at the hands of Lord Barkis.

"Then I have to take that risk" he sighed.

"I'm not letting you do this without me by your side" she argued silently.

"This isn't a game, Emily."

"I know that" she replied immediately, staring deeply in to his eyes. "You know how far I would go to keep you two safe, why can you not understand it?"

Victor was silent. He stared longingly into her eyes, tears slowly forming in his.

"I understand it, so very much. I share the same fighting spirit as you…but I don't want to see you get hurt."

Emily had heard it before, now she was getting sick of his repetition.

"WHY NOT?!" she yelled.

"Because I can't risk losing you again!" he shouted at the top of his voice.

His voice echoed throughout the house, bringing Emily to complete silence. She watched her husband, staring deeply back at her, with tears slowly pouring down his face. He bowed his head as he placed one hand on her shoulder, and the other cupping her cheek.

"I lost you once. I don't want to lose you again. I can't" he begged.

Emily was in shock. She'd never seen him like this. He was an emotional wreck, and it hurt her inside so much. To see him break down over her – she couldn't deny, she would be the exact same.

As she looked back in to his tear soaked eyes, she truly understood his worry. After her depression hit her when she left him behind for Victoria, she thought she would never be the same again. Now she saw similarities of her in him. The emptiness, the sorrow, the feeling of never knowing true love and happiness again. No one should ever have to go through that pain.

The man she loved was breaking down, piece by piece, in front of her own eyes. She couldn't stand the sight of it. But she couldn't stand the idea of sending him alone out to fight Barkis. It would be like sending a puppy in to a den of hungry lions. She couldn't watch him get torn to shreds; she had to be by his side.

He continued to stare at her, waiting for a reaction. She looked back at him and placed her hand over his that cupped her cheek. A single tear fell from her eye, spilled down her cheek and ran itself over both of their fingers. Like a sign of their union.

She looked back at him and smiled lovingly. He looked confused.

"But you and I both know we are stronger when we are together. Remember our first wedding? Tell me what happened when Lord Barkis arrived" she told him softly.

He took a deep breath, sniffed back a tear and said:
"He threatened to take Victoria away and kill her. When I faced him, he confronted me with a sword. And we fought. He overpowered me, knocked me to the floor and then…"

The sparkle in Victor's eye told Emily that he knew what she was getting at.

"And then, what?" Emily added.

"Then he thrust the sword at me…but you…you were there" he beamed. "You took the hit…and you saved my life."

"Just like you saved mine. Can't you see Victor, this situation is no different. The same man has come to take away something so precious to us, and we are going to fight. Both of us."

Victor couldn't deny, she was right. It was like history repeating itself. Except now, it wasn't at a wedding and it wasn't Victoria. It was in their home, and it was their son. The son they thought they'd never see again. When it all added up, Emily was right. Victor realised he was an emotional wreck, he wasn't strong enough to fight this enemy by himself. He needed her. He looked away from Emily and over to Patricia, who sat in his armchair, gently rocking Christopher. He had woken up and was looking around him, taking in his surroundings. He looked over to Victor and caught his eye, and a small smile crept on his face. He already recognised his Daddy, even after being gone for the majority of his life so far.

"You're not going to lose him again, are you?" Emily said.

"But what if I lose you?" he said, turning back to face Emily.

She looked him deeply in the eyes, placing her hands on his face so she cupped his jaw and she stroked his face with her thumbs.

"You will never lose me. Even in death, I will still be with you. I will live on in our little boy. He has my nose, remember?"

Victor's tears slowly dried on his cheeks, his crying ceasing. He started feeling more human, less broken.

"What would I do without you?" he asked Emily. She merely smiled and giggled in response.

"I ask myself the same question" she nodded.

"I don't mean to interrupt the moment, you two" Mayhew coughed, still standing by the windows. "But Lord Barkis is heading this way. I think he's seen us."

Both Victor and Emily looked over to Mayhew, dread and fear filling their faces but their strength glowed underneath. This was it. They looked back to one another, taking a deep breath and holding hands firmly.

"Patricia, take Christopher upstairs and barricade yourselves in our bedroom. Do not come out until Emily or I tell you to. Understand?" Victor rushed over to Patricia, who rose from the chair. She nodded firmly.

"Yes sir. Alright" she began heading towards the stairs, but Victor stopped her briefly.

"Just one quick thing" he said. He looked down at Christopher, who looked back at him with his big, dark eyes. Victor gently caressed his little head and leaned down to kiss him lightly on the forehead. Emily watched with loving eyes, a smile beaming on her face.

"Alright. Go on" Victor ordered Patricia. She slowly moved away towards the staircase, Emily placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she repeated Victors gesture, gently brushing a kiss on her babies head.

Seconds later, they heard their bedroom door being locked. Mayhew and Miss Plum turned to them.

"Um, what are we going to do about weapons?"

"Oh" Victor realised. "We have some gardening tools. And there might be a crowbar in the cellar. We used it to open wine crates whenever we had guests."

"That'll do" Emily nodded.

"Uh…" Victor stuttered. "We also have an old rifle, and some bullets."

"We have a shotgun? Where did that come from?" Emily asked, shocked.

"It's an heirloom. My grandfather used it to hunt pheasants and deer when he was my age. When he died, it was given to me on my sixteenth birthday. Never been used for nearly twenty years, though. I don't even know how it works."

"Fetch it! It's better than nothing" Emily ordered. Victor disappeared to the cellar.

"Miss Plum, garden shovel or hunting rifle?" Emily asked.

"I think I'd prefer the shovel, dear" she nodded.

"I'd rather opt for a garden tool" Mayhew added.

"There are two shovels, you can have one each" Emily said. Moments later, Victor reappeared with the shotgun under his arm, the bullet box in his hand and the crowbar in his other hand. He looked to Mayhew and Miss Plum.

"Who's having the shotgun?"

"Me" Emily immediately answered.

"What?"

"I know how to use a shotgun. Father taught me when I was ten. We never killed anything, we just used it for days out and to give the dogs some exercise." She took the shotgun from his grasp, opening the hatch and sliding the bullets in place. She cocked it, looked down its barrel and nodded.

"Mayhew and Miss Plum want the shovels from the garden" she said casually.

"Good, I wanted the crowbar" Victor smiled, lifting it up and grasping it firmly.

"We'll grab the shovels" Miss Plum said.

"Through the kitchen, out the back door. They should be standing against the wall, we planted some daffodils yesterday" Victor said.

Nodding, they disappeared from sight through the kitchen. As they vanished, Emily carefully placed the gun by the front door, throwing of her fluffy slippers and eyeing up her day boots by the umbrella stand. She was not facing her worst enemy in her slippers, it was bad enough she didn't have time to change out of her nightgown. She slipped her boots on, tying up the laces and grabbing the gun again.

Seeing his wife prepare for the battle, Victor undid his dressing gown and threw it on his nearby armchair. Emily stood in awe as she saw he was still wearing his clothes from the day before – black trousers, white shirt, all creased and messy.

"You're not in your pyjamas" she said.

"Nope" he said. "Couldn't be bothered to get changed." He rolled up his sleeves until they were thick bands around his forearms, a single button undone at the top.

"Guess it's a good thing" she noted. "I have to face him in my nightgown" she joked weakly.

"I must say, you still amaze me, Emily" he sighed, watching her hold the gun. He couldn't deny, she looked empowering and – to be honest – desirable.

But the nature of the situation hit Emily hard though. She looked down to see the gun sitting naturally and firmly in her hands, almost like it belonged there. Despite her calm demeanour, she was shaking underneath. Victor could see it; she was scared as much as he was.

He walked over to her, crowbar swinging in his left hand. She kept her focus on her floor, taking a deep breath. As he got closer, he reached out his right hand to her. She saw it, and grabbed it tightly with her left hand, her right grasping the gun. It reassured her that he would remain by her side, just like she would too.

"We defeat him tonight, and we'll be safe. All three of us." Victor reassured her. Emily nodded firmly, a look of hatred, anger and revenge in her eyes.

"This is for everything he has ever done to hurt us. My death, our wedding, and our son. Tonight, he pays for it all. One thing though" Emily looked up to Victor, her dark, angry and hatred fuelled eyes looking back at him, staring in to his soul.

"We must not allow him in our house. We'll fight him on the streets, but he must never cross the boundaries in to our home. He cannot get near Christopher, no matter what."

"Agreed. We'll show him what we're made of" Victor nodded, feeling stronger at his wifes words.

"You and me together" Emily nodded, squeezing his hand.

"Forever and ever" Victor nodded.

"Ready?" Miss Plum interrupted, appearing behind Victor with Mayhew, both of them holding shovels.

"Ready" they said in perfect unison. Taking one last deep breath and letting go of Victors hand, Emily turned to the front door and undid every lock and chain. Her shaking hand took hold of the door handle and slowly turned it open. The cold morning air hit her face, the wind slightly tousling her loose curls and she took hold of the gun and took the first step out on to the streets.

She wanted to be the first woman in their pack that Lord Barkis saw. She wanted him to know how angry she was. He had brought hell in to their lives.

After all, hell hath no fury like a woman scorn.