~
Lilith awoke to a chilled, bright morning. Beams of rich golden light streamed through her windows making warm, yellow squares on the Persian rug. The sky was blue and clear save for one or two wisps of white. She lay on the bed, arching her body languidly like a cat as the night’s drowsiness slowly fell away from her. She had slept deeply; more deeply than she had for many nights before and without the familiar stabs of pain. The first thing she realized, as she came closer and closer to wakefulness, was that she was ravenous. A passing thought of last night’s abandoned dinner crossed her mind. Her stomach gave a little growl of want.
“I’m getting up!” She told it. Tossing aside her blankets, she slid out of bed and let her toes sink into the soft fabrics of the carpet. Her bags were still sitting in a row, packed. Thankfully she remembered which ones held what. In a few minutes she had succeeded in dressing herself in a plain, black dress with buttons down the front. It wasn’t terribly attractive, though it wasn’t meant to be. It was a mourning dress. Her father had been in his grave more than a year now. Lilith was stubborn. Already the traditional time for grieving had passed yet she continued to dress in her solemn clothing. Her book still lay on the surface of the vanity, untouched. Lilith closed it and stashed it under the mattress. It wouldn’t do for some nosy person to discover it.
Outside her room, the manor seemed to be entirely empty. Not a single soul did she see as she cautiously made her way down the hallway that she knew would take her to the main staircase. For such a huge estate, there was a noticeable lack of tasteful things. Many of the paintings that had clearly once decorated the walls had been taken away, leaving only faded shapes on the wallpaper. The doors, whenever she passed one, were always firmly closed. She tried several of the handles only to find them locked. By the time she finally reached the main landing, she understood that the entire east wing of the house where she resided was unused by the Alchemist. She wondered if behind one of those closed doors was Mrs. Vines’ own private chamber. She couldn’t even imagine the woman sleeping, let alone unwinding that tight bun of hers. Perhaps she wore it to bed.
The kitchen was easy to find, the smell of braised meat wafted up from behind its doors. Lilith stepped inside, ducking to avoid a spider spinning a cobweb just above her head. There were two fires now, making the room quite warm. Several pots bubbled energetically on their stoves and on the table an array of potatoes, carrots, peas, and beets had been laid out. In the middle of it all stood Lettie, chopping busily at a line of peeled carrots and humming to herself. When she saw Lilith she immediately stopped what she was doing and popped up to give a clumsy curtsy.
“Oh Miss Lilith! You startled me!” She pressed her cool hands to her flaming cheeks and looked embarrassed. Her eyebrows knit in concern and she puckered her mouth like an old woman’s. “Are you alright miss?”
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Lilith said. “I’m afraid I overslept. I am terribly hungry though. Could you help me?”
“Oh…” Lettie slowly lowered her hands and studied the girl. “You poor thing, you missed dinner too! Mrs. Vines said that you weren’t to be disturbed for anything. I thought about bringing something up to you but…” she shrugged her shoulders and turned away. “I can make you a sandwich, would that be alright?”
“Perfect! You’re an angel.” Lilith climbed up on a stool and sat opposite Lettie as she cut into a loaf of bread with deft accuracy.
“Oh it’s no bother,” Lettie blushed before returning to her chopping. Lilith bit into the food and closed her eyes, relishing the taste.
“This is delicious.” She wiped her hands on a towel and took a sip of the milk. “I met Jamie last night. He’s a beautiful child.”
At the mention of her son, Lettie’s face lit up and an affectionate smile crept across her face. “He’s a good boy.” She said. There was a touch of pride in her voice. “Such a help to me, though I do wish he had more interest in his lessons. I try to teach him as best I can but the boy won’t sit still for anything.”
“He’s got a wonderful imagination though,” Lilith said. “Just last night he was telling me about some sort of monster around here. He said it was invisible and nobody ever saw it.” Lettie looked up quickly and for a moment Lilith could have sworn she saw a look of absolute terror in her eyes. “It’s just a story though, isn’t it? Something he thought up himself.” Lilith watched carefully as Lettie made slow, deliberate cuts with her knife. Finally she set the blade aside and reached under the table to pull out a rolled newspaper. This she handed to Lilith and pointed towards the front page.
‘Murder on Swan Street!’
The headline ran, ‘Mr. Patrick Blunt of West Swan Street was found viciously torn apart yesterday morning just outside his flat. Mr. Blunt, who lived alone and has no heirs, had been reported absent from work by his employers. He was found in the alley behind his building with his chest cavity torn open and his organs scattered about on the ground. No witnesses to the attack. Scotland Yard has reason to suspect that this might be another vicious animal attack of the same sort that befell Miss Clara Campbell last week and Mr. Simon Maynard the week before that…’
“If it’s an animal attack why are they calling it murder?” Inquired Lilith as she set the paper aside and took another bite.
“They always have a different theory,” Lettie told her in hushed, confidential tones, “but the fact is that these attacks have been going on for years. Sometimes they stop for a while and the public forgets about them, but they always come back. Swan Street is not far from here. All the deaths are always in this area. The locals have dubbed them the work of a supernatural beast, on account of the inhumane state the bodies are always found.”
“So Jamie was serious.” The reality of such a story both disturbed and thrilled her. Lilith took a long, thoughtful sip from her glass and re-read the article. “Has no one ever seen the creature?”
“None who’s ever told of it. An old drunkard named Jimmy Clark once said he saw it but no one ever believed him. Whenever he was asked for a description he just said it was ‘part of them.’ Utter hogwash. He died without ever saying what he meant.”
“Goodness.” Lilith sat back, her appetite sated. Her mind whirred. For the first time since her abduction and the discovery of the tumor she felt a genuine spark of interest in something. Suddenly she felt inspired.
“Excuse me, Lettie.” She pushed back her plate and leaped lightly off the stool. “I have to go. Thank you for the sandwich.” Hurriedly she returned to her room and pulled out the little red book from its hiding place beneath the mattress.
‘N - no please!’ he stammers, ‘you’re mad!’
‘Mad?’ I throw back my head and let out a long, full laugh. ‘I am vengeance!’
I cast aside the knife in favor of the steel garden rake. It is small with three prongs and fits comfortably in my hand. I raise my skirts and straddle his bare stomach. His bulging eyes fix on me and he tries to buck beneath my weight.
‘I can help you,’ he pleads. ‘I can fix you.’
‘But sir,’ I put on my most charming smile, the one that used to make the boys at school blush crimson when they saw me, ‘I like being broken.’ I bring the rake down as hard as I can. I feel a satisfactory rush as the prongs sink into his chest. I yank on them with all my strength. They tear bluntly through his flesh, washing my hands with his hot blood.
He’s screaming. It’s like the most beautiful music to my ears. I look down and see the trio of gashes carved into his skin. It looks like he was mauled by a rabid animal. Again and again I bring the rake down until his entire torso is nothing more than a pulpy mass of bloody gristle and gore. I never even notice when his screams finally stop. All I know is that I feel alive with a white hot light.
‘Vengeance is mine.’
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