the Book of Twist

❦❧Seven - A Poisonous Bedtime Tale❦❧

I hesitated, but Marjolaine did not need an answer.

"Sometime ago, far aways in a sea, there was a beautiful lady... her freedom was 'er air, her oxygen, all she'd need to survive. Then one day, a bludger caught 'er, tricked 'er, stole from 'er the very thing she needed to live. Her freedom."

Marjolaine's voice was quiet, somber, and though her evil smile no longer graced her lips, her eyes still glinted through the night, alight with ferocity. However, I sensed the ferocity was not aimed at me; it was aimed at the memories flitting across her eyes and ringing in her words.

"He brought her far away from 'er home, high up in them gray skies, too high for her to breathe, where the air was too thin an them peoples were strange...after the wedding, he forced 'er to do his bidding, beat 'er until she was unrecognizable, kept her locked up until them neighbors thought she was a ghost...

He had what was comin' to him, yous understand," whispered Marjolaine. "He shoulda known better. But he was always a fool, that arse." Then, suddenly, her smile was back, in all it's twisted glory. "There's them good gents out there, yous know, but then there's them I find just can't seem to keep their arsenic."

I almost choked on air.

Marjolaine's wicked smiled evaporated and she tilted her head to the side sweetly. "Well, it may be a bit of them brutish sort, but yous got yourself a bedtime tale, eh?"

I certainly had. Without another word, Marjolaine smoothed out her cot and laid down, her back facing me.

"Marjolaine?" I said, with all the tentativeness of dipping my toes into water to check the temperature-hot or cold.

"Yes, fancy?"

"How long have you been here?"

Silence once more.

"Too long."

By the next morning, I had begun to stir up the beginnings of an escape plan. It was incredibly stupid, and mostly depended on the strength of my skull, but it was all I had.

When she finally stirred, I whispered my idea to Marjolaine, who watched with a cocked eyebrow and utter skepticism, but I was determined and nothing could shake it. Plus, my tummy was peckish and I'd have battled in a gladiator arena if it meant getting edible substinance.

Her only addition was a sassy remark about the policemans' thick heads and to watch for anymore brain damage to my own.

My bowl sat untouched by the door, so I knew the guards would have to make another round today. It was another hour or so, around mid-morning, when I finally found a chance.

I heard a door squeak open down the hall and the clomping of his boots. He must have stopped at Albert's cell, as the footsteps paused and Albert grunted, still asleep.

Picturing the previous guard and inwardly cringing, I quickly placed myself on my cot near the door. Draping myself across it in a dramatic and faint fashion and hiking up the dress to my thighs (dear God), I feigned an expression of pain and wondered what the hell kind of place my mind was to have conjured up this damned situation.

Imagine my surprise when instead of the lousy old fart of a guard, there appeared a very young man from down the corridor. The navy blue uniform was a bit too big for him, settling awkwardly on his shoulders, and the hat had tufts of pale blond hair peeking out at funny angles. But he had a nice face, the kind of face you'd picture on the cute boy-next-door.

Now this was more like my mind.

He was carrying another tray and wore a decidedly pleasant expression until he caught sight of me, lying there in a seductive fashion.

That was when his expression slipped into one of blushing shock- and his grip fell right after. The boy scrambled to catch the tray, causing a snort to emanate from Marjolaine, who was sitting over in her corner, watching like this was some sort of terrible sitcom.

I'd intended to appeal to the darker, pedophile nature of the evil old guard, but this could also work.

I fluttered my lashes shut as if taken by a suddden wave of light-headedness, and let out a soft groan.