Dead Man's Bells

The Governess

She had to leave. A week in the solitude of the house. Nobody trusting anyone. Mrs Craig-Hart wouldn't even let the maids spoon her potatoes for her, convinced they'd try to poison her. Nobody speaks of what happened. Miss Peridot shifted uncomfortably in her chair, the chill of the room slowly seeping through her skin into her bones. The food was rubbery and tasteless in her mouth. She tried to swallow but her stomach threatened to hurl it right out of her. Silence accompanied them for dinner every night. At least at lunch and breakfast it was light and everyone, made an effort to be pleasant. But in the evening, when not even the sun can show its face, pleasantries are abandoned and silence takes over. Sudden adrenalin washed over her, her muscles tightening, breathing becoming shallower and a restlessness set upon her. She had to leave. Discarding her napkin on the table, she abruptly stood up. The chair strapped across the wooden floor boards, releasing a high pitched wail. As if her body were moving on its own, she made her way toward the door. Nobody around the table even looked her way. Panic attacks were common now. Miss Peridot gently open the front door, fresh cold air flooding into the porch. She left the door slightly ajar, as she stepped outside. Every step becoming faster, more urgent and panicked. As soon as her feet hit grass, she broke out into a run. Her skirts skimming her ankles. Her chest tightened, her legs burned, tears sprung to her eyes as the wind tore through her hair. She did this. She killed Mr Craig-Hart. With that sudden declaration into the dead of night, she turned and emptied her stomach in the nearest ditch. Sweaty and shaking she repeated the events of the past few months in her head...

11 months earlier

They broke into her house in the middle of the night. Rough hands shook her awake, and her muffled mind took a while to adjust. Shadows shifted in the dark room, her heart thrummed in her ears. Something was wrong. Where was John? Who was in their house? The figure standing over her grabbed her arms and pulled her out of bed. She struggled and fought, but it was no use. The man dragged her to the lounge, where two other men were murmuring, abruptly stopping when they noticed them. One man was slighter and shorter than the other, who had a bigger build and buzz cut hair. "Where's Mantle?" The shorter one commanded. His voice surprisingly brusque, in comparison to his skinny figure. The man holding her grumbled and she felt the vibrations of his voice ricocheting in her skull. "Not here, looks like he cleared out." He informed. "Only his damsel here." The shorter one took a step closer the her and studied her. Unwillingly her body took a shaky step back. Buzz cut man chuckled. "Perhaps we'll have to do with her."

Present

The men had come for her fiancé, she recounted, but he had never come home. He left her to deal with his mess. According to the short one he had a debt to pay to them, and it was a favour.
They forced her to do it.
They had business with Mr Craig-hart, they had said.
She never thought they'd want this.
They told her what to do. What to say to make them believe they had to kill him. Every Sunday she had off she would meet the men. They would threaten her that she couldn't tell anyone, or else they'd gut her like a dismantled carcass. They told her to find a way of killing him. So, she thought she'd convince one of the people in the house to kill him. But it wasn't guaranteed, so she did it to all of them. Gaining Mrs Craig-Hart's trust, whispering poisonous ideas into Rachels ear, saying she deserved better and needed to make him go away, she told Ms Robinson it was all his fault why her daughter died and that he deserved to see hell one day, she told the gardener of his wife's seduction by Mr Craig-Hart, confessed to Katherine that she knew they were going to fire her and convincing Rupert that he could take over his brothers life, wealth and stability. She stirred the household to hate Mr Craig-Hart. Really, he had no chance of surviving.
She had to leave.  How could she stay knowing what she had done to those vulnerable people? Her guilt slowly boiled into anger and confusion. She had to find John and demand an explanation. She needed to get away. So she walked into the sinister forest never looking back.

The End