1692

Act I

Cake of the day: Lemon Meringue Pie

The weather was cold and grey as usual. I sat by the window of my living room staring out with sounder.  Thick drops of water pounded the the glass, turning the image of the town square outside into a blurry mess. I had hardly touched the pie that my butler had brought me earlier, the lemon smell wafted gently into my senses.

I was in the best situation of anyone in Candle Cove; Bram Stevenson was a prestigious and respected pastor, a well loved leader. He was also my husband. Bram and I lived in a rather large house near the church. We had no children, there is nothing I want more in this world than to be a mother, but Bram would never allow it.

The only others that inhabited the house besides us were Alfred, Sebastian, and Walter, the butlers.

Alfred was an old man. His short silver hair was always in order, never a hair out of place, as was the way he did his work. Alfred was always like a second father to me, and treated me as his daughter. For this I always loved him.

Walter was older than Alfred; his silvery locks were long, down to the middle of his back to be precise. He swept his mane back into a low ponytail that ran down his back.

Sebastian was that same age as me, young twenties. His hair was a gorgeous glossy black and he had the most piercing eyes. He was one of the most loyal butlers I have ever been so lucky as to own, although I loved all three.

I leaned my head against the window, feeling the stinging cold on my scalp even through my thick, dark wavy mess of a mane. I slowly began to close my eyes when I heard it...

A soft cry, muffled by the walls of my house, coming from the square below. I looked out the window to see quite the disturbing sight.

A girl, not much younger than me, was down on her knees in the mud and murk of the square, clutching her stomach and screaming. Her hair was a ghostly blonde and dripping wet with rain water and her tattered dress was soaked and clinging to her thin frame.

She screamed ever louder, sounding in immense pain, when suddenly she lurched, every bone in her pale body suddenly became visible as she threw her head back and stood on the knees, gurgling in an unnatural fashion.

I stood up quickly. "Alfred! Walter!" I yelled, terror raging my my voice. The two men came trotting into the living room, and immediately took a knee and put a hand over their hearts "yes, my lady?" Alfred replied. I was too shocked to speak, I tried to stutter out an answer, but Walter continued for me at the sight of the girl in the square. "Right away my lady." He said, darting outside as Alfred followed at his coat tails.

I returned to the window, seeing my butlers, accompanied by Woodsbaine swiftly surround the girl. Woodsbaine in his great size easily lifted the gurgling lady to his arms. Almost immediately to Woodsbaine's touch, she lurched again, this time vomiting a dark red mess of unhealthy blood. The three men walked her into the barn near the Mortician's parlor as I saw Bram trail them inside, clutching his enormous Bible tightly to his chest. I flew my trench coat around my shoulders and followed the men inside.

The girl was laid on a table, no longer convulsing. She was steetched on her back, her limp head falling to the side and a frothy white liquid draining from her mouth. "I'm not sure what's wrong with her, sir" Walter said, feeling the girl's pulse. "She's still alive, but hardly breathing."

"We'll let her rest,' Woodsbaine replied firmly, his deep voice bellowing in the barn. "Lord only knows what that child has been through to make her so hysterical. We can talk when she has calmed down." With that, the big man left the barn, venturing out into the rain again.

Suddenly, the girl arched her back in, rising slowly from the position on the table. She opened her mouth, letting out a gurgling mix of screams and cries as blood trickled down her face from her nose. She held this for a mere moment before dropping to the table again, crying.

I couldn't watch anymore. I covered my mouth as to shield from the foul sight, and stumbled outside. I didn't even mind the weather if it was any escape from that horror inside.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the silhouette of another figure, and turned to see it more clearly.

A man. He walked towards the center of the square where I was standing, tall and slender with curly locks of flaxen that drooped to his shoulders.

"Excuse me, who are you?" I asked as he got closer.

He stopped and stared at me for a minute, taking in every detail with great caution. "Edmund." He said with a sinister grin.

"Edmund Ville"