She left as soon as the servants had left for the night and the bats came out. The moon was covered with wispy clouds, but it would hopefully pass over in a moment or so. She pulled a shovel out of the basement and crept through the front gates calmly and collectedly. The mountain wolves were out howling tonight, their shrill cries piercing the air. As she continued on her way to the graveyard, the clouds began to become thicker, and it eventually began to rain.
The weather had not been kind or considerate of her situation. Rain was now pouring, wind was howling, causing the droplets to whip across her face and arms. The ground had become soft and wet; her feet sinking into the mud. She still trudged on; shovel perched over her shoulder. She pulled her heavy feet from the ground as she increased her pace. The rain came down heavier yet, making it even harder to see. She finally came across the grave, tired and soaked, though her night had not even begun. She brushed her dripping hair out of her eyes and pulled the shovel from her shoulder. The mud was heavy and difficult to move, but worse was yet to come.
She heaved and heaved; some of what she'd removed sliding back into place. She still persisted; determine to be with him once again. It seemed that everything was against her, but for what? Was it such a terrible thing to miss someone and want to be with them again? Was it really so unreasonable? She began to cry as her ankles sank into the ground. She tossed the shovel to the side and began to sob uncontrollably. It was so unfair. She needed this night, if only she'd started sooner... Her cries of anguish gradually turned into cries of anger. She was furious. Furious with herself, the night, the bastard who'd taken him away from her in the first place. She screamed out and reached for the shovel once again. She would not give up. She gritted her teeth; clenching her jaw and grip as she viciously tossed the mud aside. Even if it took her all night, she would not relent. Lighting flashed in the sky overhead, letting a brief moment of light through the heavy dark clouds. Her arms were burning and aching with tension. She could see the corner of the coffin peeking through the dirt. She stepped down into the hole and began to shovel even faster now, not caring which direction the mud went or how much of a mess it made. She was so close. The end finally became visible through the mud. Her heart raced with excitement and accomplishment as she continued on. She moved to clearing off the top so that she could get a hold of it. She'd anticipated that it'd be heavy, but wasn't she in for a surprise. She dropped the shovel and grabbed for the sides of the coffin. As she tried to pull it from the ground, her feet slid out from under her and landed her on her bottom. It was much, much more difficult than what she'd thought, much more. Well now what was she going to do? She stood and attempted to wipe some of the mud from her clothes, instead just moving the dirt to her hands. She couldn't just go march up to someone's door at this hour of the night, much less ask them for assistance in pulling a coffin from a grave. Scratch that, how was she even going to get out of the hole? The mud had started to flood back in, now covering her ankles and working it's way back onto the coffin. This was miserable. She wiped at her nose, accidentally smearing mud across her face. Great. It only kept getting better. The rain stopped and the clouds pulled away, opening the curtain to the bright full moon overhead. The bats in the trees scattered and screeched, blocking out the moon for a few moments before disappearing. She stood in awe. There was no time for that; she caught herself and stepped up on to the coffin to reach for the shovel. She had no other option, she was going to have to ask for help whether she wanted to or not. With the shovel in her grasp, she climbed out of the hole and strolled back out onto the pathway. She had an idea of who she could ask.
They were a pair of crooks that lived at the edge of town. Both had been in and out of jail and spared from the blade simply for the fact that they had been his friends. They lived in a daintly little cottage type home.
She knocked on the door quickly, and as quietly as she could, however still loud enough to be audiable. This was not the time of night to be out or seen, and certainly not for someone of her stature.
A tall dark haired man answered the door, shocked when he saw who it was. "What are you doing out here?"
"I'm afraid I need some help. You see, I'm just not strong enough on my own."
"Why should I help you? You put me in jail too many times..."
"I'd expected a reaction of such...what if I offered you money?"
"How much are we talking about here?"
"Two hundred pounds." She looked at him hopefully.
He stood leaning into the door frame, contemplating the number for a moment. "Two hundred will do."
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To be continued.
-VV
