Raw Winter

Chapter 17 Let Us Meet

It was a hard journey to make it back to the estate after her surgery, despite how long she had spent recovering. She felt horrified when she heard how long she had been away. Dr. Windwell wanted to be sure if she had to return she would be strong enough to face them, but had privately hoped they would forget about her. As far as she had seen they had, so Windwell's heart sunk when she insisted she had to go.

"Is there any way I can get you to reconsider?" Windwell asked her. "Even if we can't get you out of the city just yet, I'm sure you could work here until they've forgotten you. You could become a known healer, and once the people in the village know you, there's no way they can take you. You would be free, even if you choose to leave after."

"Charlet is there," Winter answered. "I miss Charlet, and I want to make sure he's okay."

"I'm sure he'll be down any day now to check on you and we can tell him then," the doctor replied, shifting uncomfortably.

"He hasn't come here at all, has he? Not since I came here for surgery," Winter stated.

"Well, no, but I'm sure he's just waiting until it's safe so he doesn't accidentally bring them back here. I'm sure as soon as you're in the clear, he'll come check on you and let you know," the doctor answered.

Winter was already shaking her head, a pit in her stomach both literally and figuratively. "I have to see if he's alright. I've had a lot of dreams about him."

"Oh, you've had dreams," Dr. Windwell replied, but she noticed Winter seemed calmer now, and less volatile.

"I'm glad you understand," Winter said. She could tell she didn't, but Windwell gave her a meal before she left and allowed her to go, though it was the last thing she wanted to do.

She felt incredibly weak compared to before the surgery and had a feeling Dr. Windwell was only appeasing her. It felt like a miracle she made it at all and imagined maybe the doctor thought she would be too weak to make it even halfway and would return.

She had grown tired, but instead of going back, she kept going forward, knowing either direction was just as well.

The first thing she noticed was everything was quiet. There was always noise after Nevel and his entourage returned because there was always someone somewhere working or cleaning or talking, including his performers that were little more than pets, and more than she was.

A thought, a hopeful thought, entered her mind and she wondered if they had left, because she had disappeared or because it was time to go. She wondered if they would have taken her with them if she had been there to take. She felt incredibly relieved that she hadn't been as she made her way to the library, where she knew she would find Charlet. She knew he would be there whether or not they left and always would be. She felt so tired.

She searched for him, going up and down each row. She padded slow and soft despite believing she was safe. She considered being louder and making noise so if Charlet were here, he would hear her, find her, and tell her everything was fine. She would then tell him she was fine, and the surgery went better than either of them imagined.

And she would ask him to run away with her so they would never have to live through this nightmare again.

Only, she was too afraid to make a sound. She didn't want to take any risks. There were too many things she feared might happen.

The more she paced around the library, the more aware she was that he wasn't in it. She couldn't imagine where else he could be. She struggled to remember what it was like before Nevel returned, as she was so sure that would hold the answer. She couldn't remember anywhere other than the library or kitchen or dining room, and she knew if he were in the dining room, he wouldn't be there for too long as the longest he had eaten there was when they were eating together.

She also knew he often spent time in his room. She knew from her one encounter with him he didn't like it when she went to find him there because that was usually when he wanted to be alone, but this should be an exception.

She went to his room, near to the library and practically attached to it, and a strange smell filled her nose. It wasn't one that she was familiar with, but it filled her with dread and made her walk faster even as her body pleaded for her to rest and wait for him to find her instead. That didn't feel like an option anymore.

She opened the door to his room, and like the first time, she stared. She couldn't comprehend what she was looking at. None of it—the shape, the color, the smell—made sense.

The more she perceived, the harder it was to breathe.

Her Charlet was hanging from his neck, flesh rotting, bones exposed, the floor slick though she dared not step closer no matter how much she wanted to take him down.

She remembered the rats, and she covered her ears and closed her eyes, resisting the urge to tell him to wake up, to try to save him, trying as hard as she could to block out the sound of the rats talking back and forth to each other in the tank of water that gurgled like blood leaving an artery.

She fell over sideways, fainting, but something prevented her from reaching the floor. Their arms wrapped tightly around her, cradling her, and for a moment, she believed the figure to be an angel.

Then she felt long, sharp fingernails picking their way at her throat, leaving her unable to scream as the world went dark around her.