Tangled In Time

Tied To The Flames

"You're just like her... Look," I could hear Neville's voice above me, but my vision had blurred, and it took a couple of seconds for it to clear. Automatically, I pressed my hand to my head, blood staining my trembling fingers. But surprisingly, tears weren't falling from my eyes. I was in such shock that my eyes remained dry, my gaze locked onto Neville as he examined his hands, his nostrils flaring with a mix of anger and frustration.

"Look what you made me do," Neville muttered, his voice thick with a twisted sense of justification, as though the violent act he had just committed was somehow my fault. The room's atmosphere was charged with tension. "If you would just LISTEN." His voice was changing from controlled calm to deranged.

My mind raced as I struggled to comprehend the situation. How had I ended up in this nightmare? Neville's sudden outburst had shattered any semblance of safety I had felt moments before.

"I spent months thinking I was going crazy," his voice was quiet, but then his eyes met mine. "Women always think they are smarter than men, don't they?" A sickening smile spread across his face, a sinister grin that made my blood run cold, intensifying the eerie atmosphere of the room.

"Neville," I started to say, but he cut me off with a cold, calculating stare.

"Guess you can't lie to me now, can you, girl? I told you I know exactly where you've been. When your parents came to me and said they couldn't find you, I helped them look for a while. But then I climbed in the dumbwaiter, and when I got there, I knocked over a chair, and then I saw you come down to the kitchen with... him." Neville smiled down at me.

"So let's not lie to each other... ey?" Neville's eyes darted around the room as he continued his unsettling confession, creating an eerie atmosphere that left me on edge, each word increasing the tension. "I went down that dumbwaiter all those years ago, drunk and fueled by anger and desperation, not really thinking much of it. I can't remember all the details, but I remember the feeling of the cord slipping through my fingers as I dropped."

He paused; his gaze locked on his trembling hands.

"When I finally landed, I could hear voices outside, so I stayed quiet, trying to figure out what was going on." Neville's voice dropped to barely a whisper, carrying an eerie quality, the suspense in the room becoming almost unbearable. "I thought maybe someone had broken into the house, and I was too drunk to confront them. So, I stayed hidden. That's when I heard it—the unmistakable sound of Cecilia's voice, talking to someone, saying she was going back to the cottage. My anger flared up, and I could have jumped out of that dumbwaiter and confronted her right then and there."

Neville's unsettling story continued, his voice revealing his inner turmoil. "I waited until I was sure I was alone, and then I let myself out, finding myself in a kitchen instead of the cellar that I knew. I was confused, but I knew I had to go to the cottage and see my Cecilia, my heart pounding with fear and anticipation."

As he spoke those words, Neville's lips curled into a slow, sinister smile, as if he were savoring a memory that I had yet to uncover, making my heart race with a sense of dread and urgency.

"I slipped out of the kitchen door and went to the cottage. I hadn't even had a chance to think about what might have happened to me or where I was, but all I could think about was seeing Cecilia," Neville continued, his voice laced with a disturbing fixation, and I couldn't tear my eyes away, desperate to know what happened next. "I went to the cottage and knocked on the door, and you should have seen her face. She didn't even try to slam the door on me; she was too scared. She just backed away like a frightened little mouse."

Neville's gaze shifted, and he didn't seem as steady on his feet anymore, the alcohol finally taking its full effect. I couldn't endure the suspense any longer; I needed to know what happened with every fibre of my being. It was as if Cecilia and I shared some unexplainable connection through time.

"What did you do to her?" I pressed, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger, fear, and an overwhelming need for answers.

"I walked into the cottage after her, and it all became a blur. Seeing her, seeing her living here without me... I demanded to know what she had been up to, and it didn't take long for the filthy truth to come out. The bump she'd had when I last saw her was no longer there. It had been mere few months, she'd been pregnant, and I had to know... I needed to know if it was mine."

Neville's eyes, still ablaze with anger, locked onto mine. His nostrils flared as he continued with his twisted tale of vengeance. "You know what that whore told me... it wasn't mine. Somehow, she'd already given birth, but I'd only seen her a month or so before. This time was somehow working differently, and I didn't understand it all. All I could hear was her babbling, her crying, and it made me sick. I saw red."

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I listened to Neville's horrifying confession. I couldn't bear the weight of the truth that was unraveling before me. The room felt like a tomb, closing in on me as his malevolence filled the air, and I felt a deep, gnawing fear.

"I couldn't stand the betrayal," Neville continued, his voice filled with a venomous rage. He pointed to a spot next to where I was currently huddled on the floor. "Crying... pleading with me not to hurt her, that she would show me the way home. I hit her, if only to shut her up, and then I couldn't stop... over and over again." The words hung heavily in the air as his eyes stayed fixated on a spot on the floor as if he could see her still laying there.

Neville's voice quivered with anger still.

"After my rage had finally dissipated, it had become evening. I made sure there was nobody around and then I dragged Cecilia, bloody and bruised, back to the main house. She was broken, and I was filled with a sickening sense of satisfaction. I had to find that wretch she'd been involved with, the man who had tainted her and our lives."

As he spoke, the atmosphere grew heavier, suffocating me with its darkness, leaving me on the edge of my seat. "I kicked open the front door and dragged her in with me. Music was coming from the ballroom, but the doors were closed," he recounted, his voice growing colder by the moment. The relentless rain outside added to the suspense, its rhythmic beat echoing the growing tension inside.

"I just remember Cecilia's whimpering, the disgust I felt for her. I wanted to ruin her life as she ruined mine," Neville confessed, his tone void of remorse, intensifying the sense of foreboding in the room. "She was coming back with me, whether she liked it or not, but I was going to find a way so she would never, ever come back. I made her tell me the way back and dragged her up there. That's when I had the idea."

Neville recounted, sinking back down to the sofa.

"I couldn't guarantee I could stop her from getting back here, but if I set a fire, there would be nothing for her to return to. I managed to tie her up in the loft and then I found some lighter fluid, splashed it around the doors of the ballroom, lit it, and then..." He raised his hands and then dropped them back down to his lap, his expression eerie.