A Tale of Shadows - THE OUTDATED VERSION

Chapter 6 - The Treacherous Deed

As soon as Melinda had reached her study, she locked the door and drew the black curtains, letting herself be engulfed by darkness. It was as if she had closed her eyes, embracing the cold void that was right in front of her. Of course, as she had expected, her hands shivered upon observing the contents of her ponderings. The flow of her life, and then the whole world, would change. She was going to have to hide her true self from everyone she knew, as well as everyone she didn't, and her shame had to earn a grave deep within the back of her mind. She caught herself wishing to go to Malcolm again and ask him what to do.

However, she was convinced that he would have been not only surprised, for she walked away from him with a smile on her face when she first thought of doing it, but also disturbed, for she had gone away moments ago. She had to solve her problems herself, and she wasn't going to fall into the trap of cowardice. Even the bravest of men could give in to fear, and that by itself was a terrifying fact, let alone the fear. She stared at the dagger with furrowed eyebrows, slowly turning it in her right hand to familiarise herself with the touch metal had. A sword was in her possession, yes, but it was a different occasion. Despite that, the presence of the weapon had no menace to it whatsoever. She looked at weapons as the instruments of battle, and those instruments could be used in various ways depending on the hands they were in.

Her stomach hurt as she pressed the knife tightly, and at that moment, she remembered that she was to give birth to a child of gender yet unknown. If it glanced upon her plot, that child would not have been happy to watch it succeed. Even if the plot failed, the child would have been enraged to find out what its mother thought at the time. She could imagine it crying with all its might in the lonely corners of her womb, and it almost brought tears to her eyes. To stifle her exaggerated concerns, she gritted her teeth and clenched her fist, shifting her internal monologue into the most wrathful screams her brain could bear, and then, trembling, it also had to listen to her strongest efforts at persuasion. After several minutes of that unique experience, her brain had to surrender to her heart and the allure of power it was entranced by.

Smiling, she opened the curtains and unlocked the door, leaving the study immediately afterwards. She went to her bedroom, knowing that her husband would be there, and he was. He was sprawled over the bed in a bathrobe, smiling in a way that prominently featured his gentle rosy cheeks. That and the gleam in his baby blue eyes reminded her of his naivete, so she smiled even harder. It was lovely of him to have much admiration for her. She leaned over to him, and he reached out his hands towards her as if she were the light of the Sun. 

"My dear husband, I have something I want to show you," she whispered softly. "Change your clothes and then come with me as soon as you can."

He nodded, after which he hurried towards the dressing room. She smirked once he shut the door, trying not to think of how she betrayed his respect. If the two of them weren't so close, she figured that the deed would have been done already, but these were the circumstances, and if she truly desired to get ahead in life, she had to face them. An eternity seemed to have passed while he was dressing, in which she remembered that she had to put her gloves on and did it in an instant. She hoped that he wouldn't inquire her about them, assuming that she had put them on due to the dust. As she was worrying about the possibility of the existence of that minor obstacle, unable to grasp what was going on with her, he came out, wearing a simple blue shirt and black trousers. She smiled at him, getting a firm grip on his right hand.

"Where are we going?" he asked, his eyes wide open.

"We are going to the study," she explained, laughing.

Her heart warmed up at the luck that allowed her to see he was still smiling. In the meantime, the presence of the dagger in her pocket, together with the cold and unwelcoming winds that blew through the hallways as if winter had come, slowed the flow of her footsteps. It seemed as if he hadn't noticed that her facial expression was terrifyingly grave and her eyebrows furrowed. She observed him more closely than before, wondering whether or not his smile would fade soon. It did for several seconds, due to which she shivered. Not knowing what else she could do to make up for this mistake in her plan, she shrugged, and he smiled yet again. She turned away from him so he would not commence forming questions she could not answer him, attempting to convince herself she was indeed deserving of the power that was within an arm's reach. 

Once they had reached the study, she walked in front of him and opened the door. The very next thing she did was lock the door and go to draw the curtains. He looked at her unblinkingly, wondering why she did those things, yet he smiled again when she walked back towards him, his faith still unwavering. Melinda sometimes failed to grasp the concept of love, and this was one of those times.

"Could you please tell me why we are here now?" he told her. "I suppose I will finally get to read one of your poems. I am certain that they have to be marvellous, for they were brought into existence by your brilliant mind."

She drew the dagger from her pocket, smirking. Shuddering, he took a few steps back, feeling as if his whole body was on fire. The glove on her left hand gently stroked his neck, and he recalled the wonderful times they had together. Now it was all shattered right in front of him, revealed to be an illusion in a moment he could not proceed from. He knew that, no matter how hard he tried, she would find a way to kill him. Thus he stood there like a porcelain doll, eyes and mouth wide open, patiently awaiting her next move.

"Who is the person you have turned into? I am failing to understand," he gasped.

"You don't have to understand," she whispered, her voice gentle as a flower. "The only thing that matters is that you see me for who I am inside."

"What I see is a cold-blooded, uncaring, murderous woman who would do anything to get ahead. You gave me no clues as to why I should expect this," he responded, breathing heavily.

She grasped his neck with her both hands. "Douglas, you should not have expected me to give you clues. This is a dark desire that has been coursing through my veins for a while, and people do not tend to talk openly about those. In every conflict, the winners are those who talk little and do much. I thought that perhaps you would have assumed this, but alas, this attitude has brought you to your doom."

"You seem to consider me an idiot for believing in the kindness of the human heart. With that depressing outlook, it is no wonder why you gave up your cause, even going so far as to deprive an unborn child of its father. What will you tell the child, Melinda?!" he spoke, his face turning red, shaking her.

"I will make the child accept it," she explained in a monotone voice, getting his hands off her shoulders.

He sighed. "I don't know under which circumstances the poor creature could accept it, but it is clear as day that I can do nothing to halt this unexpected deed of yours, so be it."

She moved the blade closer to him, her eyes cold as ice. He gritted his teeth, unable to think about anything but its sharpness as it pierced through his skin and veins, making his horizons darker. The sole thing he could see was his murderer, who looked no less lovely than usual, even as she gazed with him with soul-crushing apathy. Her aura radiated malice, each calm breath and slow step of hers carving itself into his head like she carved the secrets of her soul into his heart. However, before he could leave life forever, he came up with a few words to tell her.

"You were the woman I lived for, and now that you have committed this treachery, it must be told to you that, one day, your scheme will be brought to the light, after which everyone will hate you, and eventually, you will die in misery. Good luck now that you have brought that pitiful, wretched fate onto yourself. I am satisfied not to be part of it," he remarked, taking his last breath once he was done.

Melinda placed the dagger onto the floor, the blood on it uniting with the blood that was rapidly flowing from his heart. She shrugged, reminding herself that she had to wash the gloves manually. Circling the corpse at a glacial speed so her heels would not get soaked with those remnants of her dead husband even a little, she pondered about who would be the best to blame, opening the curtains while doing it. Nothing came to her mind for several seconds, and if it hadn't come almost instantly after that, she would have stared at nature unblinkingly. However, upon realizing that Amanda was the perfect person to pin the blame onto, she smiled as if she were a child chasing a butterfly, walking out of the room without a care in the world.