No Rest for the Wicked

9

"Thomas? What are you doing?" Lucille asked, her grip on me growing ever tighter.

"Lucille, don't hurt her!" Thomas said in a half pleading, half warning tone. "Her soul is not yours for the taking."

"I can reclaim our legacy with her soul. Allerale and the Sharpe name will be ours once again."

"I didn't take your name! And I didn't take your house. You died and I bought it." I again repeated. Lucille growled slightly before lightly pressing a hand to my temple. A sudden headache stormed in, the worse I'd ever had in my life. I screamed in pain as my vision went hazy and ever so slightly black at the edges. Lucille's grip on me seemed ever more present. The pain receeded to a dull throb as I took short, fast breaths.

"Shut your mouth!" Lucille snarled as she pressed me closer to the stair railing. I felt weaker than ever. My adrenaline had disappeared and now I knew I was legitamently dying. My arms flopped over the railing as I felt my knees weaken and shake. I prayed for my friends to get here as soon as they could with the authorities. I wasn't sure how much longer I had.

"You're psychotic." I muttered, though the words came out quiet and slurred, so Lucille couldn't exactly tell what I was saying.

"Lucille, let her go. Please just let her go. You're turning into a monster." Thomas pleaded with her.

"Love makes monsters of us all." Lucille replied.

"This isn't love, this is manipulation. You're only doing this for your own selfish desires. Killing the poor girl-"

"I'm doing this for us, Thomas. I take back what's ours. And you're tied to the house and to me so you'll always be at my side. I'm doing this out of love."

"You don't know what love is."

"You haven't known true love since Edith, and she's long dead, leaving only me. It's you who doesn't know what love is because you only can know true love with me."

I felt my heart beating rapidly. I was loosing oxygen. I inhaled deeply in an attempt to stay awake. I wasn't going to die, I wasn't. Not like this.

"That's not true. You can't love anyone else, but I can." Thomas fired back.

"Edith is dead. That love is dead." Lucille enunciated. Her grip on me tightened.

"I'm not talking about Edith."

There seemed to be a thick tension that emerged with the silence. I heard Lucille growl again, yanking my head up by my hair. I squeaked in pain, struggling to stay awake.

"You..." She hissed. I suddenly felt a shove from behind. Next thing I knew, I flipped over the railing and was sent tumbling to the floor of the foyer far below. I felt myself plummeting to the tile below, but I felt so tired and weak that I couldn't do anything. Not even scream.

I lightly shut my eyes, hoping it would be quick.

I hit something, but it wasn't hard tile. And I wasn't dead, at least not yet. Weakly, I opened my eyes to find Thomas's cracked white face looking at me with fear and concern. He had caught me in his arms.

I didn't even have the energy to thank him.

"I knew it. You love her, don't you?" I heard Lucille ask bitterly from above.

Love? That's an interesting word. I thought, not really able to connect the dots or form much of a cohesive thought anymore.

"Yes, I do. She'll never be Edith, but she's kind and in every way your opposite. She might not be able to love me back because of what you did to me. But you are not to touch her." Thomas replied with a nervous passion.