Chapter 20 LURE
NARRATIVE POINT OF VIEW
Amidst the blazing coat of the enveloping mist, a laughing fox decided to pay a visit. She guffawed, scurrying around all ravenous. Luscious drool, growling haul and the maniacal pace drove it eager for blood, just like the figure standing by the roof and looking down in forbearance.
He frowned as the fox began to howl. He quickly leaped and in a matter of seconds, blood spilled. Decapitating the omnivorous creature and bringing the manor back to its deafening silence. He smirked, leaving the body of the deceased animal at the doorstep.
“How long do I have to wait?”
It was an ear-piercing noise. She frantically wipes everything with clenched jaw, practically removing the top coat of the high-grade escritoire due to the apprehensive state she’s in. The loud beating and constant scraping blared the room, but all she could hear is the lingering sound of a loud buzz.
Freedom, that’s all she could think about. She glanced at the grandfather clock and felt sick. It’s been an hour since he left, and not a single trace of him can be felt around the house. But what does she know? She’s a human, incapable of concluding the whereabouts of the monster that captured her.
She shook her head repeatedly “n-no…” she whispered constantly, still wiping the table. Bullets of sweat have been forming in her forehead, basically drenching her dress as if she was pushed in a whirlpool. Her eyes gleamed. It was of clear fear, uncertainty, and skedaddle. Before she knew it, the voices in her head spoke, making her tear little by little.
'just clean, he’s waiting for you to open the door'
'go ahead, free yourself. He left an hour ago'
'it’s not so bad, he’s being nice, he must be into me'
'freedom, Agatha… flee and tarnish him'
Her intrusive thoughts got the better of her as she broke down in tears. Grima, a sound resembling fingernails scratching the surface of a board echoed as her wail kindred like that. She didn’t know what to do. She eyed the clock, it’s already past 4.
Time flew by quickly, it has been hours of assessing and she’s still uncertain. She stared out the window, it’s getting dark, and he’ll probably be back in a few hours. She stood up weakly, eyeing the foggy woods with scrutiny. He eyed everything, took a deep breath, and prayed.
“Loving God, you have cared for us as a shepherd cares for his sheep.
You protect us when there is danger, and you lift us and lead us to safety when we are in trouble.
As I make my escape today, keep me away from the devil and protect me with your utmost strength.
You are the Almighty God, and his power doesn’t stand a chance to the might you yield.
Amen.”
She opened her eyes, swallowing the foreboding decision she made. Agatha, a servant with the powerful will of surviving, woke up from the role she’s playing.
She stepped out of the room, tranquil and assurance enveloped her consciousness as she headed for the door unprepared. She stopped upon reaching the hall, eyeing the wooden porch with conviction, a resonating sound of the clock chimes and her world slowed suddenly.
She took a step “It’s now or never” a tick tolled.
She took another step, “But what’ll become of me once I’m out?”
The grandfather clock ringed “I’ll never get a chance like this”
It’s 5PM, she was about to reach the handle but froze midway. “but…” the image of the Viscount popped in her mind, the usual warmth and grace he had swooned her. The moment they spent overthrew the viciousness they shared. She gaped, a loud beat took over her as she felt her stomach churn.
She wanted to deny it, but the lather is obvious. She might’ve grown fond of him, remembering the gestures he did with kindness. His warm hazel eyes, cheeky smile and chivalric ways of speaking entered her already obfuscated wit. The heat she felt amidst his icy touch made her blush. Can she afford to leave him?
She heaved, realizing the effect he had on her. She closed her eyes, “n-no, h-he’s evil… he’s using you Agatha… he’s going to kill you in the end… you need to leave now… Now!”
She clenched her jaw, with piercing eyes, she reached the rusty handle with the vicious image of him forming in her mind. She blocked everything warm and resorted to the evil man whose form was those of evil descent. His blood-shot eyes, veiny frame and pale skin flashed according to her covet.
A sonorous whistle chimed the hanging bells. A fresh wave of wind enveloped her skin, making the walls of the porch chilly. The door has opened and her desire to flee awakened. She took a step, exiting the door for the first time since that day. Her widening eyes and heavy breathing showed her unease. She cannot see the outer gate. The fog was too thick for her to see even the grassy field before that.
She bit her lips and with tearing eyes, she took another step but quickly came to a halt upon seeing a pair of wide eyes looking at her from the ground. Her jaw dropped and with soaring dread, all she can do was a silent scream.
She was quivering. The chilly weather got nothing on the bullets of flustering sweat forming on her neck. The bloody head of a fox stared her back, it was lifeless, drained with blood and its body was next to it. Similar to the death of her master, it was drained, almost as if the life within it ceased to exist.
By then she knew, the trap he sets came through. A quick gush of wind coming from the roof passed by her, and in that moment he stood there. Standing in front of her, inches away. She stared at his bareness.
Shaking in fear, she eyed him. “haaaa…” a sound of her exhale came off upon seeing the same monster he was. The true form he had that night came to life once more. He wore a mocking smirk, a smear of blood kissed the side of his lips. Her gleaming jade eyes and fiery red pupils met. With a swift movement, he bore his pointy fingernails in her cheeks, clutching her chin tightly as he unleashed his vicious scheme.
“Agatha…I’m far smarter than you think” he growled. The sweet voice he had was nowhere to be heard. His deep, sated tone emulates those of the devils. “…and may I tell you…” he leaned closer.
“prayers don’t work against me”
He lifted her, choking the young maiden up air with soaring wrath.
He then threw her back inside causing the furniture to crash, “Aghhhh…!” she whimpered, holding the back of her head. He appeared in front of her, clasping her hair with intensity. She pulled it away just enough to expose an open area. He leaned closer and eyed the struggling lady “Agatha… you’ll have to pay for that dreadful act...” he screamed with shaking anger.
She cried, weakly begging for her life, but it was the end of the line for him. His tusk showed, digging her neck open as he indulged himself in her euphoric blood, making her lose consciousness.
