• All I could focus on was just how bright the moon was.

    I was lying down looking up at the blindingly white orb when I awoke. I knew something was wrong. It was hard to think. I had been having such lovely dreams.

    Why can’t I move?

    Something was… crawling all over me and wherever I was… it was so cold. I usually faint at the sight of bugs and I hate being cold so what was I doing there? I couldn’t remember. The last thing I remembered… I was riding, fleeing from something or someone. I had been very frightened… Then I woke up here.

    Why can’t I move?

    I listened to all the night sounds around me, it was strange not to hear crickets but I could hear a lonely owl and the sharp cracking of bare branches buffeted by the wind. Someone was chanting something. I couldn’t understand it but I wanted it to stop. I just wanted to go back to sleep and to my dreams. Somehow… I knew that the chanting was keeping me awake.

    Why can’t I move?

    I could hear twigs and dry leaves crack and crunch as a shadow fell over me. Someone was coming. I could smell the cigar smoke that clung to him as a man climbed down next to me,
    Why am I in a hole?
    opened up a bag and slid me into it. I could feel it as he lifted me out of my cold little bed, full of creepy crawlies, and stepped onto solid ground. I could hear the owl as he remained the only witness of that cold, hopeless night. Try as I might, I couldn’t move an inch, and I couldn’t dream.

    Why can’t I move!?

    I was loaded into a cart and taken somewhere. I couldn’t tell where. One of the wheels of the cart was loose. I could hear it squeaking the entire way… and the chanting didn’t ever stop. I really, really just wanted to go back to sleep and dream. They were such lovely dreams. I don’t know how long I was in that cart, with just the squeaking and the chanting to keep me company. The owl’s mournful, lonely song had ceased.

    Why can’t I move?

    The cart finally stopped and so did the squeaking. I felt hands beneath me and was again lifted up into someone’s arms, I could smell the cigar smoke again. I could not see as I was still in that canvas bag. I couldn’t understand why it was so cold; it was still Summer, wasn’t it? I heard the men’s steps on the cobbled stone walkway and the low voice of the servant as we were admitted into the mansion. I had been one of those servants, once.

    Why can’t I move!?

    I listened as we descended twenty-five steps into the basement. I could see the light from the candles flicker through the sack. I was lowered onto a hard, stone platform and the sack was removed. If I could have, I would have gasped and recoiled from the scene in front of me. There he was, Eric, my master and tormenter, standing in front of me, the smell of cigars clinging to him as it always had. Beside him was someone I did not recognize, still chanting. Out of the very corner of my eye, I could see my younger sister, almost my twin in looks, tied onto a platform very similar to mine. She was asleep, her chest gently rising and falling in her repose.

    Why can’t I move?

    “Welcome back, my dearest Rose. How I have missed you.”

    How I wished I could have glared. Oh, Eric, the man who had never been told, “no”, and who believed he could have anything – anyone just by snapping his fingers. He had decided he wanted me, had frightened me with his possessiveness and cruelty, and I had fled in terror. He had chased me for two days, the sound of his steed never fading into the distance, and I had thanked him for the equestrian lessons he had given me as it had allowed me to keep control of the beast I had taken in my attempt to get away. I didn’t care that my dress was ripped at the breast, or that my body bore curious and sinister runes – runes that had been painted on me while I was drugged that he claimed would bind him to me, in this life, and the next.

    “I apologize for any discomfort you may have felt on the way here, my dear.” He smiled that condescending little smile I had always hated. “The dead usually don’t care how they are treated.”

    The… dead...? No… I can’t be! I’m not… Why can’t I move? Get me out of here. Someone please help me! Help!

    “Unfortunately, your time in the grave has made you… quite grotesque and I cannot have a cadaver for a wife. People would talk, you see. Luckily, your younger sister is just as lovely as you once were and my friend here says it will be no trouble to put you where she is now. After that, a few more spells, and a binding curse will make you the perfect little wife for me.” He leaned in close to me and kissed my lips. “We will be together soon, my sweet, happily forever after. You will obey me and love me and will be completely mine. I am sorry, I tried to spare your sister any pain but she may wake up during the process.” He smiled again and stepped back. “And now I go to dream of the time we will have together. When I wake, you will be my perfect little Rose again, eternally innocent, obedient, and devoted to me. Goodnight, my sweet.”

    How I wish I could have screamed! How I wish I could have fought! But no, all I could do was lie there and watch the candles flicker and listen to the chanting and feel the indescribable pain as I felt my soul being wrenched out of my body. At some point, I could hear my sister screaming along with me. I don’t know how long it took but I was almost glad when it was over. I opened my eyes. Only one candle remained lit. Shadows quivered on the wall as the candle flickered, then fizzled to nothing. And all was silent.

    I’m lying beside him right now, pregnant with his spawn. During the day, I am what he wished me to be. During the night, all I can dream about is who I used to be, what I used to dream of, and how much I’ve lost. I never remember it when I wake and can never explain the boundless hatred for him I always feel before the dreams fade. Maybe someday I will remain myself long enough to kill him. That is the only pleasant dream left to me now.

    All the rest have faded into memory and dust.