Westgate Manor

Chapter 2

Ch. 2  “Remembering a Promise Made”

                Abigail sat before her mirror; a pensive expression was fixed upon her dainty features as she slowly brushed her damp hair. Countless times, she went over the events that occurred two weeks before. It mattered not how many times she thought about it, because she never wound up with an answer. Nothing made sense. Yet, she found that she had once again, become victim to her own thoughts.

            The man was quickly lifted into the air and thrown from her. His body rolled on the ground and he grunted, slowly coming to his feet. Abigail quickly sat upright, frantically looking between her assailant and the person she hoped was her savior. She was of such misfortune that she wouldn’t doubt if Mr. Cane was simply fighting for a share of her as well, but quickly pushed the thought aside, determined to view him as her savior.

            Her assailant flicked a scornful glance at her before roughly wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. Fists raised; he moved from side to side, keeping his concentration on the man who’d felled him.

 Abigail knew that she should take advantage of the situation and make her escape, but curiosity got the better of her, and she was transfixed upon the elusive shadow. Whereas the assailant stumbled around, circling his fists; Mr. Cane slowly paced before him, as if he were a cat. He was…whistling? Was he mad? He had to be. In good conscience, Abigail could not allow her assailant to hurt the poor half-wit.

            She came to her feet cautiously so as not to draw attention to herself. Ready to address her attacker, to convince him to let the poor man alone, her plea was interrupted by something unexpected happening.

 Tired of waiting, her assailant decided to attack the man and when he did, everything happened so fast that Abigail had to strain forward in her position, peering into the darkness to make sense of the blur before her.

            The attacker lunged at Mr. Cane, swinging at him, but he easily deflected the blow and returned the jab, meeting his mark. A loud cracking noise came from her assailant’s jaw; his body went slack and crumpled to the ground, motionless.

            Surprised at the swiftness with which the assailant was brought down, she stared transfixed on the still form. A shuffle turned her attention away from the ground, and she instantly looked up.

“Wait!” she called out, holding up a hand to Mr. Cane’s retreating back. He turned around and waited, silent as the grave.

            She questioned her sanity in delaying him when he stood immobile, not saying a word to her. Tightening her fists to still her fearful quivers, she forced herself to speak, for it was abundantly clear that he would not.

            Flicking another quick glance to the body on the ground, and then back at him, she continued, taking a hesitant step forward. “Thank you for your assistance.”

            The silhouette remained immobile for a heartbeat, and then his head barely moved, accepting her thanks, before turning on his heels again.

            “Please do not leave me here alone. I am….I’m a bit out of sorts,” she admitted, hugging her arms. “I do not know what to do or-“

            “May I suggest that you walk?”

            The biting response took her aback. Her eyes narrowed on his back as she followed him out of the alley. “There is no need to be so rude,” she stated to his back, as she hurried to catch up. Only a few steps behind him, she tried again, “I was only trying to thank you-“