The Necronomicon

Chapter Twenty Six

It was a grassy clearing, with low trees. Sunlight filtered through the many branches, making it lighter than the path they'd taken in. Frederick was not the menacing figure she'd seen him as moments ago — she wondered why she'd feared him. Her mind was flustered, her cheeks warm.

She was finally getting rid of The Necronomicon. It was like the end of an era, even though it had only been months — but it had been quite a journey: she'd met Frederick. Her soulmate. The love of her life. Her forever. Meredith had found out about the revolution, that her stepmother had started it. She'd discovered so much — and now it was all over.

In a way she was relieved.

Meredith had not thought about the book much. It was strange — for her entire journey she'd carried it on her back, but she had not cast many — if any — thoughts to it. All she knew was that she had to give it to The Grim Reaper.

"Are you ready, Meredith?" Frederick asked her smilingly.

"Not yet," She replied, staring at the sight before her.

There were large, towering trees, all lined up, dipping gently down. The sun, smudged along the skyline, was picturesque and shone through the leaves in a light beam, falling like a spotlight on them. Frederick looked at her, grinning widely. "Do you like the view?"

"The view?"

"There's a hill, just over there, if you make it through the mud. Walk up it and look out — I promise you it will take your breath away. It's absolutely stunning." He paused, taking her in. "Just like you." She could feel him shift behind her, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. Meredith inhaled sharply, the smell of the mud mingling with the scent of Frederick's tunic, slightly sweaty — but with the faint aroma of pine, too.

"The — the mud?" Meredith repeated, disgruntled, making a sour face. "I don't really want to walk through mud." She looked at Frederick, and it was as if she could read his mind. Anastasia would've done. That thought — the thought of him thinking of Anastasia: comparing Anastasia to her; that Anastasia was better than her — made her nod rigidly. "But let's do it, shall we?" She gritted her teeth. "Why not?"

Frederick smirked. "You really have changed. Look at you." He grazed her cheeks with a slender finger. "Pink in your cheeks." His fingertips moved to her hair. "Not pristine." His hands plunged down her body, smoothing the skirts of her dress. "Granted, you're still in a dress."

Meredith raised her eyebrows. "Some things never change."

He took her in for a moment before leaning in to kiss her. "That's just as it should be."

"I love you." She promised him, forgetting her fear. Forgetting Anastasia. She loved him — and he loved her. That was all that mattered. Not past girlfriends, or a stupid book. She was more than ready to get rid of The Necronomicon. "Let's go up the hill once we've summoned The Grim Reaper."

"And given away the book." Frederick smiled at her, his hand taking hers gently.

They walked onwards, the mud grabbing at their shoes. Meredith nearly fell numerous times, but every time Frederick's arms were there, ready to catch her. She beamed at him, and he returned it happily.

The journey's end. It was coming. It was here. And once the book was gone — a life with Frederick. How would it feel coming home from a day out to a house with Frederick in it? How would it feel to fall asleep beside him every night? To wake up to his handsome face every morning? She knew the answers: it would feel amazing. Like a dream.

Maybe, one day, she might even bear his children. Their genetics mixing — a child with Meredith's beauty and Frederick's brawn. She pictured a stunning daughter with chocolate brown curls, messy like her father's, and Meredith's doe eyes, her pale, ivory-coloured skin. Within her mind she saw a son with bright, soulful eyes, and large, capable hands. A smile so pure it could melt anyone's heart.

She glanced at Frederick — eyes running along his cheekbones before raising to his hair. He turned to her, knee deep in mud, and she closed her eyes, embarrassed to be caught staring. Frederick looped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, the mud engulfing them both. Pressing a kiss on her cheek lightly, he smiled, and she couldn't help but grin at him and his perfect jawline. "I love you." She said.

He beamed at her. "I love you too."

They waded on, pushing through the wet mud that clung to their knees and shins. Meredith made sure her knapsack didn't touch the sludge as she trudged forwards, arms gripping Frederick. "Where in the marshlands do we have to go, Meredith?" He asked her.

She racked her brain, trying to recall a place. Elder Watford... he hadn't said anything about where in the marshlands, had he?

He hadn't. So — where did they have to go? "He didn't mention it."

Frederick sighed. "Let's get to a bank that's not as soft, shall we? Then we won't get — absorbed — by this — the mud."

Meredith nodded, pulling up her skirts once more. As Frederick lent her his sturdy hand, she gazed forwards — and spotted grass up ahead. "Over there!" She signalled, and he turned his head in the direction she was pointing.

"Perfect."

With his help, she made her way over to the grassy area, and lowered her knapsack to the ground. Meredith opened it, pulling The Necronomicon out, and from it — the slip of paper.

The incantation.

"Look, Meredith, hand me something. Either you hold The Necronomicon or I will, so the other can concentrate on reading the incantation aloud."

She assented, offering him the book. He took it in both arms, holding it, his fingers tracing the cover. There was something in his eyes — love? Shaking her head, she smiled and returned to the paper. He was so cute.

She couldn't wait to have forever with him.

"Convoca mihi omnes Grim —" Meredith began, her voice crisp.

It happened quickly. The footstep behind her, loud. The stick swinging at her, hard. Her scream, dying out as her vision blackened.

Frederick walked away from her lifeless body, The Necronomicon clutched tightly in his hands.