Beatrice
Blonde, blue-eyed, slim figure always caught the eye of many men. She only had eyes for one. The town’s bad boy, Daniel Jennings. Handsome, tall, broad, son of a wealthy banker. He had money to burn, the best of everything, yet he rebelled against everyone, it seemed overnight. He started sleeping away from the town; getting drunk became his new past time, and causing fights until someone could knock him out. He used countless women. He dealt in the black arts. Some said he’d made a deal with the devil because his face had become devilish looking. A crazy white eyed stare. It was his eyes that intrigued her more. They seemed to stare into her soul. She’d feel dazed as soon as he looked away. She felt drawn to him. He was on her mind constantly all day long and at night she’d have dreams of flying over forests to a long brown cabin, flying past it and the vision of his eyes popped up at the most unexpected times. In the bathroom, at the dinner table. Once while she was work in Cambridge’s shop, almost dropping Mrs. O Connor’s bread on the floor. She became obsessed with Daniel. She dressed herself according to how she thought would catch his eye. It seemed that she failed and after a few months she gave up. The next day Daniel dropped into the shop staring only at her. He looked her deeply in the eyes, cracked his devilish smirk and dropped a card into her outstretched hand. Knowing that he had left her dumbfounded, he rounded and walked out of the store.
Beatrice continued starting at him, slack jawed. Totally deaf to all sounds around her, Oblivious that her boss was shaking her by the shoulders to snap her out of her daze. It wasn’t till she felt a sharp sting to the side of her face that she blinked rapidly, reaching out to rub a hand to her cheek, she saw little white starts above her head and the next second blackness.
She came too, found herself lying on a couch in a pretty room. She tried to sit up quickly but had to lay back down slowly as everything in front of her began to spin too quickly for her to be able to hand it. Shutting her eyes, she squeezed them tightly, to try and right her head.
“Hey, you’re alive.” That voice, she’d know that voice anywhere. She didn’t move in the hopes of hearing that voice again and feel the delicious thrill run up her spine.
“So, you gotta a name or what?” again that voice, the delicious thrill.
“Beatrice.” I said in a dry husky voice. She cleared her throat again. Her voice scratching like she was thirsty. She jumped when she felt her head being cradled in an enormous hand. She squinted open sticky eyelids and saw a shock of dark hair on Daniel’s upside down face. He started to talk and it looked as if his mouth was on his forehead. A dry scratchy giggle burst out. She grabbed her throat with one hand over the other as if trying to breathe. She blinked a bit, raised her hands to rub them and snatched her hands back with a look of horror on her face. She moved to get up and pushed his hands out of the way and made her way to the mirror above the fireplace. She looked at the mirror and recoiled in shock. Staring back at her was frightened woman staring with white eyes, that were glowing violet in colour. She took in the thin pinched look on her cheeks. So obsessed was she with Daniel, that she’d started to neglect herself.
“What have you done to me?” she screamed at him. He blinked nonchalantly and said
“Well darlin, I know you love me and I need a bride so I decided to make you into one of my own kind. She felt a rush of red hot energy fill her body. Next thing she was in front of him shaking him by the throat. She squeezed her little hands around his throat for all she was worth. He stood there laughing at her. She realised he couldn’t die. That meant neither could she? He made her his bride that night and the next until she began to enjoy it. They appeared to live well together. She watched him like a hawk, seeking always a way to get away from this prison. She hated him as much as she once had loved him. He knew she was watching her, so she pretended to be the perfect wife. In time he became more lax with her. In time he’d even let her watch him as he got ready for his bath. He’d take a little deadly tipple in a quaint little glass jar that was about 2” inches wide and 6” long. It sat in an ornately delicate filigree of gold incorporating the handle of the glass. His cocktail is made up of abstinene and 1 drop of poison. The he pours the drink into the glass jar, over which is placed a strainer with a sugar cube on it. The he sets the cube on fire and pours the whole thing into the glass jar and stirs it till the sugar dissolves. Drinking it back his gullet he promptly leaned back in the bath. She knew he was high and incapable of helping himself. She gouged out his eyeballs and swallowed them for she had found its secret. Looking back at Daniel she saw no trace of him. He had dissolved like the sugar cube.
She emptied the bath and flushed his dust down the toilet. Gathering up her few garments and things she’d need for her journey she started out on foot towards the Himalayan mountains.
