Chapter 7 Scarlett
SCARLETT
There is no concept of time in this dank, dark dungeon.
Through my swollen eyes, I surmise that it must be the next day. My sobs had exhausted me enough to doze for a handful of minutes at a time. A chill damp spreads throughout my stone cell. The uneven floor bit into my bottom, and the hard wall scraped along my back.
Ripping off another piece of stale bread, I throw it into the dark side of the cell and hear the scurry of tiny feet. Best the rats keep over there and far away from me.
I finger the worn hem of my wedding dress. I had torn the large train off during the night to cover myself. The gauzy material wasn’t the best at keeping out the cold, but it was better than nothing. I shivered beneath the once-brilliant fabric now gray with dirt and dust.
If the Headless Horseman never returns, I will surely perish down here. Maybe that is what he wants for me—to wallow until I meet my end, for the rats to get to me and die by a thousand tiny bites. I could make peace with that.
Dying at the hands of someone else’s torment would surely reunite my soul with his.
Our ends would be similar in that way. If I were to take my own life, I could not be certain of our reunion.
Would I have been damned for seeking my end?
Would I be bound to that infernal manor home with my soul never knowing peace?
The Headless Horseman seeks my death. That much I know for sure.
Whatever torment he wishes to subject me to, I will withstand—fight against—until the inevitable happens. I’ve been living in hell for so long, I hardly know where to rank my current discomfort at being trapped here.
I wish he were with me.
It is unwise to think of him—the memories only intensify my agony, but I cannot help myself. Here in the quiet dark, there is only me and the rats. Had I not been a fool that night and run away with him as he suggested, we would be together.
Our breathing had been heavy after our lovemaking, and the promises of a tangible future were on our lips. Green and blue eyes wide with hope as we vowed never to be separated and to bide our time. It was doomed from the start, no matter how hard I tried to craft a suitable fate for us both.
I, of all people, should know nothing in this world comes for free.
Good, honest people always suffer at the hands of greedy men.
And he was the best man I ever knew. There were dozens of opportunities for the two of us to flee.
If I had left with him at eighteen, the night of both of our first times, we would have a family by now.
Instead, I made us sneak around. Arrogantly thinking that we could have it all.
If only I were perfect and remained obedient to my father, he would reward both of us.
He had no male heirs of his own. It would take nothing more than a signed piece of paper to appoint my love the heir to his earldom. Our marriage would cement it.
My love had been with our family since he was a boy. Having been the son of our cook. She had died during the sweating sickness, and my father kept him as a babe in his employ. Even raised him under the same roof as me until he mastered the craft of a stable boy. To my father, he was a worker.
To me, he was everything—my first friend, my first kiss, and most importantly, my first and only love.
The pounding in my chest stumbles as the moth-bitten organ gives a painful squeeze.
Memories flood me, each one more heartbreakingly beautiful than the last. I can still feel him atop me.
His warm, smooth skin against mine. The solid weight of him holding me close.
Our mingling breaths and whispered confessions during those stolen nights have more happiness than some people get in a lifetime.
Ice solidifies in my blood. A shiver wracks my body. Memories of him are all I have now. I will carry them with me in my heart until it stops beating.
The creatures around me have stopped stirring. Apprehension tickles the back of my neck. Pale light trickles down the stairs, and I wait to hear the Headless Horseman’s heavy footsteps—the torch above my cell flickers.
Through my bleary eyes, I can make out a thick fog rolling down the steps. It spreads out along the floor in a dense cloud. The damp air tickles the bare skin of my calves. Something about this doesn’t feel right. I fear whatever he has hidden in the mist. No doubt it is another way to torment me.
A sharp squeak breaks through the chilling silence. Rushing footsteps echo on the stairs, but they are far too light to belong to the Headless Horseman. I push back against the stone wall. The only weapon I have won’t do me much good when he wields magic.
Through the thick fog, a sound echoes. It is a short word, one I’ve heard before. I can barely make it out over the rushing wind. The fog grows denser, completely concealing the bottom half of my body as I sit on the floor. The sound gets closer and closer until it’s finally clear.
It’s a name. My name.
My mouth goes dry, and goosebumps erupt over my skin. It’s my name being said by the one voice I’d never thought to hear again. I would not mistake it. There is nothing about him that I would ever forget.
It can't be—I was wrong, whatever cruelty this is, I’m not sure I’ll be able to withstand. My breathing is already ragged as I stare into the fog. A voice echoes from within the mist, and a broken sob leaves me. It’s him. The one I’d die for if only to see him again.
There he is coming through the fog. I can see the familiar outline of his body. Long arms and legs stop just beyond my cage. I stagger forward to grip the bars of my cell.
The cold metal stings my palms as I shove myself against them to try and get as close to him as I can.
Krane. I haven’t thought of his name in a long time. Now, it is all I can think of as fresh sobs leave me. Moisture trails down my cheeks and collects at the white ribbon around my throat. My skin burns as I push against the hard metal, my fingers itching to brush against him.
The fog grows thicker, obscuring my outstretched hand. Groaning echoes from the iron as it presses into my chest, but they hold firm. I strain with all my strength to slip through.
“Scarlett!” Krane calls. “Where are you? Your father said you shouldn’t be out here.”
My heart breaks at his words. No, this cannot be. It makes no sense, and yet nothing has for the past month. The Headless Horseman seeks to torture me, and his magic has found the perfect way to do it. I cannot look away from the sight before me, but nor do I wish to see it.
“Krane!” I scream, stretching myself against the bars. “I’m here! Krane!”
The fog devours my words. Pushing against the bars, I feel my shoulder nearly dislocate. My fingers graze the scratchy fabric of a coat. I gasp and hook my hand around the object. A familiar forearm rests against my palm as I drag him forward.
The fog dissipates just enough for me to make him out. Worn leather work boots are laced around his feet. Dark pants give way to a long dark coat with frayed edges and missing brass buttons. I pull him closer, heart pounding at the glimpse of his bare chest.
“Krane,” I whisper.
Even if I try to keep my wits about me, I cannot. I long to see him more than I care about my own self-preservation.
A wet, gargling sound falls from him. Crimson slides down his chest, making a mess of his white undershirt. The sticky red blood coats my hand, and I scream. The fog pulls back, revealing him with gruesome clarity. Blood pours from his neck as he chokes, grasping at the wound.
His beautiful face is a mess of red and black bruises.
With bloodshot green eyes, he pins me where I stand.
Choking and thrashing until finally his head falls from his shoulders.
The body that loved me—that I knew better than my own—collapses into a heap.
The hands that held me with tenderness fall to his side.
Krane’s face, where I mapped the freckles on his cheeks like stars in a constellation, lies beside his torso. Lips that kissed me and called me his moon—vowed that our love was worth every risk—were now pale and unmoving. My heart shatters at the awful sight.
It is how I found him that day in the Whispering Woods. Earl Bram’s dagger rests beside him in this recreation just as it did at the time.
I had gone searching for Krane the next morning, ready for us to make a plan to leave when he hadn’t been in the stables.
I hunted the grounds for him until my search took me into the forest. It was my father’s guards who had found me, no doubt having heard the screams. They had brought my father to try to pry me from Krane’s corpse.
I would not be moved. Sobbing onto his still chest, my heart lay down beside his and died.
My father offered no condolences. Nor any retribution for the murder of one of his most loyal and longstanding servants. He had merely sneered at me that the Duke had learned of Krane’s intent to ask for my hand. A slight to his son, as I had already been given to him.
It was Earl Bram’s place to dispatch him as my honor demanded. My father’s face had twisted in disgust as he told me it was best to keep just how long I’d been ruining myself with a stable boy to myself. The duke and his son were expecting an untouched bride.
There had been no funeral for him. No headstone to mark the ground and proclaim what a wonderful man he was. My father would not spare the coin for it and said the maggots could enjoy a fresh meal.
Now, as I stare down at his broken body once more, I see my father’s desire in action.
Krane’s corpse begins to change color, fading from pale to blue to green.
His strong body bloats and his skin stretches—the blood around his neck coagulates.
The bones of his face pierce through the sinking flesh.
Creatures burrow inside of him, eating away at his muscles and tendons.
His milky eyes glaze over as worms push through.
The wriggly, pale bodies of maggots devour his lips and tongue.
Bile races up my throat as I try to vomit.
With an empty stomach, I only manage to throw up spit.
A crow lands on his scalp and pecks at his eye, spearing it with its beak before devouring it whole.
I scream at the creature and bang against the bars until they rattle.
The fog thickens again. Krane’s body is dragged along the floor until it disappears in the dense mist.
With a scream, I throw myself against the bars, willing them to snap. Wherever he has gone, I want to follow.
From the fog, the Headless Horseman appears. Green fire spills from his pumpkin as he approaches my cell. I strain against the bar, reaching with all my might. My muscles are near tearing with the force.
“Why?” I demand.
The Headless Horseman says nothing. His steps reach me, and he pauses. The flickering of his green flames stirs my ire with a swiftness. I scream and slam myself against the bars. The pain in my ribs intensifies.
“Why? Why? Why!”
I scream the question over and over, finally succumbing to my madness.
Tears burn my eyes. One falls down my cheek in a steady stream.
He lifts a hand, and I hold my breath as his gloved fingers ghost over my face.
There is something familiar in his touch, but I smack his hand away.
After being numb for so many weeks, it feels nice to have this rampant emotion blazing inside of me.
I hold on to the anger and let it fuel me.
“This is only the beginning,” he whispers.
Without another word, he turns on his leather boots and stomps away. The fog retreats in his wake. Once it peels back from my cell, a fresh loaf of bread and a cup of water are revealed. I groan and pull myself off the bars. What I just witnessed depletes me as I sink beside the plate of food.
How can this creature show me that? If this is the brand of torment he seeks to inflict on me, there is no way I’ll survive it. Wrapping my arms around myself, I realize I’m still playing the part of a fool. I was kidding myself if I thought I was in hell before.
This is hell—actual hell. To see Krane like that again…how many times will I be forced to watch that gory scene? Seeing the one you love in such a state is not something I’d wish on my worst enemy. I feel just as hopeless as I did then.
The depth of cruelty inflicted on him is not one I can stomach. To know he was alone and cold, that I sent him to his death even inadvertently, is not something I can withstand. I don’t know how long I will last in this cage if this is the Headless Horseman’s method of torture.
One thing is certain: I will lose my sanity long before I lose my life.