CHAPTER SONG: "Everything Burns" by Anastacia & Ben Moody
Claire de Lune, the piano clarity of Debussy was the first thing flowing through Emmy's ears along with her steady heartbeat when she finally resurfaced from the depths of faintness. The prickling of her nerve endings sparking back to life made movement of her body easier as a groan of exhaustion emitted from her throat.
As she came back to consciousness, she remembered suddenly that she had been in Erik's closet, faced with the horrific mannequin in a wedding dress, intended for her, and the mocking visual of her face taunting her before she had collapsed in a numbing swoon.
And she realized that she wasn't on the carpet as she should have been after passing out with the "mirror bride" being the last thing she saw before darkness had clouded her brain in shock. She wasn't in Erik's bed either, her slowly awakening mind concluded as her sight began to clear. The red ceiling similar in color to her captor's bedroom greeted her as she swallowed a dry gulp of air, trying to resurface from the abyss she had fallen into.
Her body was lying on the cushioned surface of a sofa, covered up to her chin in a dark green blanket with her head supported on a pillow. She turned her head over, squeezing her eyes shut and reopening them as she began to fully wake up.
Most likely, she was in a living room, her mind deduced as her eyes began to frantically search for where Erik was.
She focused her eyes on a shadowed silhouette perched by her side, still as a statue. So entrenched in darkness he was, except for his piercing iceberg eyes laser focused only on his watching her come to, she gasped in a startled instant of fright, a painful shiver racking up her spine. Emmy attempted to lift her aching head from the pillow as Erik stood up, his towering form looming over her as he witnessed her awakening.
She exhaled a deep breath, trying to calm herself as she recognized no sign of anger in his eyes as she propped herself on her elbows, trying to sit up, her cranium pounding with the aftermath of suddenly blacking out.
Her throat tickled and ached with hoarseness as she pressed a shaking hand to her forehead. And her head felt heavy, like something was on the top of her skull as she tried to keep herself upright. She lifted her hand up, and her fingertips felt the cool and hard jeweled décor of a small article of headwear... a crown?
"It's the tiara from your wedding veil, my little Schatzi..." Erik's deep voice quietly explained as she clutched the blanket close to her chest and she locked eyes with him, watching his every move as he stood over her, imposing and large compared to her vulnerable position in his parlor. "How do you feel?"
He sounded as though he wanted to change the subject as Emmy looked underneath the blanket he had covered her with... and didn't recognize the completely different attire she was wearing. They definitely weren't clothes she herself would've changed into voluntarily...
She took deep breaths as a thousand frantic thoughts violated the forefront of her mind and she held the blanket tighter to her body, the question she wanted to ask lingering on her lips, but not wanting to voice it aloud, too afraid of what his answer might be.
But, Erik seemed to read her mind and his voice was strangely tender as he spoke to her, like he was speaking to a toddler rather than a grown woman, seeing the fear emerging on her face. "I sedated you again after you fainted, so your body wouldn't be hurt from shock. And, then I changed your clothes into something more comfortable."
He reached over to the nearby table, holding out a glass of a warmly colored liquid.
"I brought you some orange juice, Emmy. Pulp-free, just as you like it. You need some nutrients in your system after not eating for so long. I almost have supper ready for you, as well." Erik continued talking, as though to coax her into not being frightened.
Emmy's eyes looked straight at the glass he held, seeing the condensation glistening on the sides and dripping from the bottom. Her tongue licked her lips as she greedily reached out and took the glass into her fingers, trying to stop the trembling of her hands. She gulped down the cool refreshing juice, relishing the sweet taste flowing down her esophagus as she swallowed, closing her eyes in relief.
And Erik talked still, his lustful gaze locking on her graceful throat as she drank the nectar he had provided for her, his gorgeous butterfly. "And I promise you, while you were asleep, I didn't take advantage of you. I only let you sleep in the bedroom after I changed your clothes. And a short while ago, I carried you straight in here; I showed every respect, my emerald."
By the time he finished talking, she had already drank every drop of the juice inside the glass, holding it still in her hands before he carefully took it back from her. Erik's words began to sink in as her fingers grasped onto the blanket he had covered her with and flung it off her legs, exposing the ebony and scarlet sparkling lingerie that clung to her figure and the translucent silken robe flowing around her like a glorious skirt of a ball-gown.
"Why... why did you undress me, Erik? You could've just left me in my regular clothes after I passed out and I could've changed after I woke up!" Her voice increased in volume as she swung her legs over the side of the couch, placing her stocking covered feet on the floor. She stood up on her wobbling legs, her limbs feeling like jelly as her shaking hands lost their grasp on the glass and it almost fell to the floor before Erik quickly caught it in his larger fingers.
He quickly set it back on the table, then grasped her delicate shoulders in his massive hands, firm and powerful in keeping her standing despite her dizzied lack of balance. His hold on her nearly bruised her collar-bone; he wasn't allowing her to move an inch away from him.
"Erik, let go of me!" Emmy raised her hands, striking his hard chest with her small fists, but she may as well have been hitting carved marble, she had little effect on his strength as he restrained her. "Let go of me now! I'll never let you keep me like this! And if you try to touch me again or make me wear that goddamn dress... I'll make you regret it if it's the last thing I do. And if I die, you'll never have me in the way you want."
His eyes glazed over with the soulless fog of his thunderstorm blue irises, the humanity and empathy vanished completely within them as he targeted her as his prey, already in his grasp. Not that he had possessed much humanity to begin with...
A deepening growl rumbled within his broad chest and Emmy felt the reverberating tremor spread to her own body. His black pupils widened and dilated, Emmy's own terrified face reflected in the abyss of his shamelessly lustful wanting of her. One of his hands grasped her chin to keep her head still as she groaned in discomfort, his other hand wrapping around the side of her throat, with his thumb pressing against her larynx, no doubt marking her with a fingerprinted bruise.
"Look at me, Emmanuelle..." Erik's softly menacing lilt ordered her, his jaw clenching in repressed impatience. A bemused smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he watched her struggle in his grip, imagining her squirming as such in their bed after they became man and wife come tomorrow... And yet her lovely green orbs continued diverting from him. His voice remained soft, yet he hissed at her, seething out the following words despite the term of endearment toward her. "My liebling, it's pointless to disobey me when I tell you to do something. Now...look at me!"
Emmy's stare remained glued to the floor as tears came to her eyes and she looked up at him, grimacing in pain as his thumb squeezed her neck tighter, placing more pressure on her breakable throat. He didn't bother feeling sorry for her soreness, already planning to kiss away the bruise imprinted on her fair skin later.
The brunette woman whimpered as the tip of his thumb massaged along her esophagus, his other hand tightening around her jaw. "Erik... stop... you're hurting me."
His voice lowered even deeper into a silky soothing tone as though to mockingly console her. "Then don't give me cause to hurt you in the first place, my little Emmy. If you let me, I would be your humblest servant and kneel at your feet in humility. But if it's a monster you see me as, then it's a monster you'll get. And if you do away with yourself..." He paused, placing both of his hands to wrap them completely around her neck. "...if I find you dead before our wedding, I'll carve out your bleeding heart straight from your chest... and embalm your body to rest in a glass coffin on display. And you'll be dressed in your wedding gown, even in death. You'll be my most precious treasure, my own Snow White to decorate our home with your beauty."
Her body was shivering with fear by the time he finished, her face pale as a ghost as he slowly loosened his grasp around her neck. Emmy wrapped her arms around herself, her legs quivering even more so as Erik quickly reached out and scooped her up off her feet before she could collapse to the floor, weighing in his arms no lighter than a feather.
Her hands lay in her lap as he swiftly carried her out of the living room and toward the dining table where he had a full course meal laid out for them. The table itself had the length long enough to feed twelve people, but only two ornately carved chairs sat next to each other, one of them perched at the head which she presumed was where Erik would sit himself.
She was placed next to the other chair where she carefully sat down, feeling a wave of nausea resulting of the drug in her veins from his sedating her again. But she was so hungry she could eat a horse!
Emmy looked at what was on the plates and her mouth immediately started watering from the enticing aroma of spaghetti sauce and meatballs... Two glasses filled with delicious looking red wine were next to the plates with stainless silverware and white cloth napkins, all presented on the burgundy tablecloth.
She felt Erik's hand stroke the back of her head, petting her hair while admiring the sparkling rubies glittering on her tiara. His lovely little queen...
Emmy wanted to throw the headwear across the room after breaking it in half... but she gulped down any biting sarcasm wanting to burst from her lips and a gracious smile crawled upon her lips and she spoke to him in her most patient and submissive tone, a similar pitch she would use for her job when speaking to library patrons.
While the time called for it and until her plan came to full fruition, she had to put on the performance of her life. Get Erik to get let his guard down; make him believe she was falling under his influence...
She smiled up at him, hoping her gratitude seemed genuine as he loomed over her petite frame. "This all looks delicious, Erik... you've thought of everything I could want for a romantic dinner. Thank you."
He looked down at her, his black pupils dilating again with desire and excitement at her thanking him. Erik tilted her chin up with his fingertips, his other hand gently grasping into her hair so her head was leaning back as far as her neck allowed. His index finger traced along the side of her jaw before he made a seductive trail of goosebumps along the length of her elegant throat.
Emmy inhaled a breath of uncertainty before closing her eyes as he leaned down and kissed her rose petal mouth, blooming open for him as his tongue licked along her bottom lip; she emitted a pleasured moan for him, needing to keep the act as real as she could.
She felt tears of guilt sting in her closed eyes and she prayed he didn't notice. Will...my sweet William. Please forgive me, my prince.
It took everything she had not to push Erik away and race to the bathroom to vomit and expel the acidic taste of him. The one weakness she possessed over Erik was the side of him longing to please her, the doting Dr. Jekyll to the evil Mr. Hyde who just minutes before had threatened to keep her corpse as an ornament to adorn his home like a piece of expensive furniture.
A whimper of underlying fear made its way up her throat, but she pushed it down, instead sighing with satisfaction as she opened her eyes, meeting Erik's enamored gaze aimed at her. His thumb caressed her bottom lip before he went to sit by her in his own chair at the head of the table, bringing to Emmy's mind a lecherous king who wanted to surround himself with only beautiful things, including her...
She was wearing a ruby tiara that one of her childhood Barbie dolls would wear for God's sake...
Emmy however couldn't deny the appetizing smell of the steaming food and she would need all her energy to make this madness end before it was too late. She had to be patient and have faith in the chess pieces she had placed on the board so she could beat Erik at his own game.
She noticed as she brought the glass of red wine to her lips that the stereo music in the background had changed from Debussy to a piece by Richard Wagner. Emmy set the glass down carefully, licking the liquid remnants from her lips, feeling Erik's vigilant eyes watching her every move and gesture, like she was an insect under a microscope.
"Is this Das Rheingold by Wagner?" She asked, still keeping the soft, docile tone of her voice.
She needed to get him talking, keep him distracted while she gathered up her courage. The wine certainly helped... As she butchered the name of the piece, Erik found himself chuckling at her poor German pronunciation.
"It certainly is, my Schatzi. I'm flattered you tried it with the correct accent." Erik took her free hand that wasn't holding her fork and kissed her fingers. "The full title is Entrance of the Gods Into Valhalla. It fills me with so much triumph, even more so with you here at my side."
Emmy felt rage and dread twist in her gut at the sign of affection. Erik's kiss of her hand was nothing like whenever Will would do the same with her. No sweet butterflies in her stomach, no euphoria making her feel like she could fly up to Heaven...
All she felt was hate and revulsion...
But she gulped down more wine to drown out whatever profanities were coming to her mind. The strings and horns of the orchestra music blared in her throbbing brain. She filled her mouth with tomato sauce coated pasta so she wouldn't say something to set him off again.
She didn't know if she was just hungry, but she couldn't deny this food was damned good... But she wasn't about to give him another victory to hold over her.
As she lifted the wine again to her lips to wash down the food, her fingers trembled slightly and the glass fell from her hand. She gasped in faux distress as the dishware shattered on the floor, breaking into many shards.
Emmy began to breathe in fast paced exhales as she appeared to be on the verge of hyperventilating. She went down to the floor, with Erik instantly at her side as she began to sob heavily. "Oh, God! I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, Erik! Please don't be mad at me!"
She deliberately used childlike wording and phrases, playing up her vulnerability as Erik carefully gathered up the shards of glass with his thick cloth napkin.
"Shh, my little emerald. It's alright. The sedative might still be in your bloodstream, so you may need more rest. I'll clean this up... you finish your supper. I'll be back in a second, stay right here." He bundled up the glass pieces in his napkin, using his free hand to help Emmy stand back up and sitting her in the chair.
He dared turn his back to her, going to the bar that bordered toward the kitchen where he disposed of the glass shards in the trash bin and also cleared the plates.
Emmy's vision was blurred by her crocodile tears as she lifted her own napkin and looked at the one piece of glass she had managed to grab before Erik cleaned up the mess.
Here in a moment, she'd make her move...
She clutched her napkin with the hidden glass in her lap, keeping her eyes on Erik as he walked back to her. He knelt down before her on his knees as Emmy's fake tears fell onto her folded hands and she hung her head in defeat.
"I'm... I'm sorry, Erik. I'm nervous and scared...this is all new for me." Emmy hiccupped as she looked up with her reddened eyes at him, meeting the pale blue eyes of her captor.
"I know this is a big change for you, schatzi. But there's nothing for you to worry about. Once we're married tomorrow, everything will fall into place." He reached up and stroked a curl of her brown hair behind her ear. Erik caressed both of her heated cheeks with his thumbs and he waited for his words to sink in for her...
Emmy froze as she heard that final sentence from Erik's lips. She sat straight as an arrow in her chair as the air suddenly became hotter, her heart racing with anxiety. Erik could feel her skin sweltering with her accelerated pulse.
"What the hell did you just say, Erik?" Emmy asked, her voice cracking with barely audible sound. She felt lightheaded again as she watched his eyes darken into an ominous nocturnal blue, godless and cold as his mouth set into a firm grimace.
"You know very well what I just said, Emmanuelle." His voice was scarily demonic in its calmness and he saw her skin pale in her increasing fear.
Emmy began to breathe deeply again as she realized she needed to make her plan work even faster if she were to be successful. Seeing the blank lack of empathy color his eyes as he visually targeted her, the wounded gazelle gambit part of her plan kicked in as she sprung from the chair quickly before Erik could think to grab her.
Hell would freeze over before she would marry this monster by tomorrow...
He knew it didn't matter where she ran in the house. Every door was locked from both sides and the windows were barred with the strongest steel metal to ensure her containment.
Wagner's music continued to swell, nearly drowning out Emmy's cries of helplessness. He almost wanted to laugh at her efforts, but he only sighed in resignation, pulling out of his pocket the Ziploc bag with the white padded cloth soaked with fresh chloroform.
"Help! Somebody help me, please!" Emmy went to the front door, yelling frantically as she tried the handle, but it wouldn't budge.
She turned with her back against the door to see Erik standing, just watching her try to escape and silently reveling in her terror as he wordlessly showed her the white pad in his hand. He knew she could figure out what that meant as she inched past the door and found herself backed into the corner by the entryway.
Reminiscent of a villain in an archaic thriller chasing after the damsel-heroine, Erik prowled torturously slow toward Emmy, her eyes widening with horror at his stone-cold demeanor of malevolence, the ruthless predator tormenting his ensnared prey.
She saw his fingers tighten around the pad in his hand the closer he approached, Erik's unblinking eyes locked on her devoid of anything resembling sympathy or warmth. Emmy hid one of her hands behind her back, the glass shard cutting into her palm as she fought back a wince. Sticking blood trickled down her skin, dripping from her fingertips and staining the floor under her feet.
Emmy braced herself, prepared to stab at him, but he unfortunately had the upper hand with his larger build compared to her tiny form and her still recovering from being drugged and the shock of fainting.
Erik grabbed her hand as she aimed for his face with the glass, trying to get his throat or one of his eyes. She grunted and squealed as she fought against her kidnapper, managing to scratch his chin and cheek, earning her a twist of her arm behind her back in a tightening grasp courtesy of his other hand not holding the chloroform pad. He saw her little hand covered in blood as she refused to drop her makeshift weapon as he still held her wrist in a painful armlock.
Erik pressed the pad to her mouth and nose. With her free hand, she clawed and gnawed at his fingers like a wild animal, viciously biting his thumb as he growled with primal ferocity, yet he still refused to cease in his efforts to subdue her.
The determined woman worked to hold her breath as she tried to inhale as little of the anesthetic chemical as possible despite Erik not relinquishing his muffling her mouth and nose for oxygen. She groaned in false exhaustion as her limbs slowly fell limp down to her sides, allowing herself to stumble against Erik to present the impression of her losing consciousness. Her eyelids closed as she heard the glass shard clattering to the hardwood floor from her lifeless hand, Erik's panting breaths in her ear as he slightly loosened his grip on her.
He watched her face fall into the stoic expression of forced sleep as she released a cooing moan, then a sigh of submission. A feral rumbling snarl snaked through his throat as he whispered in her ear a sinister lullaby for Emmy to hear as she appeared unconscious. "You're mine and you'll never escape here if I will it so. I always get what I want. And I can do whatever I want to you, my little Schatzi."
Erik heard Emmy's steadied breathing in response to his words as he kept her up against his chest, awkwardly holding her from falling in a pile to the floor. Just another mess of hers he would need to clean up. He looked down at her motionless face, his anger at her still alight in his veins despite the lovely visual of her closed eyelids and her lashes resting on her cheeks.
Clicking his tongue in disappointment with a "tsk"-ing noise at his bride's slumbering visage, internally filled with hatred and worship for her in his obsession, Erik swept his hand underneath her knees and hefted up her limp body into his arms. He released another panting breath as he sighed out his own tiredness at rendering her insensible. Her head and swan-like neck drooped alongside her arms hanging down-ward in the air as he carried Emmy away from the door in slow, calculated steps back to the dining room... and through the parlor with the victorious Wagner score reaching its climax, complimenting Erik's dominance over the woman feeble and powerless in his arms...
Emmy slightly opened her eyelids, peering carefully into the translucency of her lashes as she saw the passing walls of the hallway, upside down as her head dangled over Erik's arm with him continuing to carry her. She struggled to keep her breaths steady as he felt his lingering stare on her, listening to his eerily hypnotic whisper.
"I would be gentle if you only let me, my emerald." He pushed open the bedroom door with his foot as he whisked her over the threshold and closed it before walking to the large crimson canopied bed. He stood before the large mattress topped with the bloodiest red sheets and pillows, still holding a lifeless Emmy in his arms. Erik leaned down to her throat and placed a possessive kiss upon the purple thumb printed bruise he had left on her fair skin... "My sleeping beauty fair..."
He leaned on the edge of the bed and carefully laid Emmy in the very center of the velvet covers, the Black Widow patterned kimono robe spread around her body similar to butterfly's wings and her mahogany swirls of hair pooling about her like the rays of the rising sun on the pillowcase as her head sunk into the soft cushioning. Erik crawled onto the mattress beside her and brushed the side of her face with his nose, nuzzling her silken curls and cheek, inhaling her floral scent of lavender and paradise...
He sighed in demented bliss as he forced himself to stand back up from the bed, never taking his eyes off her as he backed away toward the door. "I'll return momentarily, my butterfly. Then, I'll draw you a soothing hot bath and lather you with all the sweetest soaps and cleanse you for our wedding day tomorrow."
Erik couldn't help returning back to her side, pressing his ravenous lips to hers in an unwelcome, invasive kiss before finally turning away again, closing the door behind him as he left the room, going to turn off the blaring orchestra music, currently playing the track of Wagner's Tristan & Isolde.
Emmy fluttered her eyelids open as soon as she heard the door shut behind Erik, quickly rising from the bed and padding her way to the en-suite bathroom, stepping with great care to not make any noise to alert him that she was awake. She looked through the mirror medicine cabinet, looking for anything she could use as a weapon against him and somehow get the keys she had heard jangling in his front shirt pocket as she had been carried through the house.
And she prayed there would be mouthwash inside!
She didn't find much other than a few prescription pill bottles with the penthouse address, a couple bottles of aftershave and an electric razor.
Before she closed the cabinet door, one bottle caught her eye.
A small clear vial with her full name labeled on the front... Emmanuelle...
What the hell is this? She wondered to herself.
And then she heard another voice she hadn't heard since before her abduction.
Tom's voice!
It's a potion for you, Emmy. To get you out of here and send you back to your real home with Scho and Joe. If you drink it, you'll fall into a deep comatose sleep, appearing almost dead. You know how Juliet fakes her death to be with Romeo? But... there's a chance you might never awake from it.
Emmy softly closed the cabinet door, seeing her pale and haggard reflection in the mirror as she held the vial in her hand. And she whispered aloud to her guiding spirit of Thomas Blake.
"Here's to you, Will...Molly...Joe...Tom. I love you all."
Her heartbeat pulsed with thunder in her eardrums as she lifted the vial to her lips and drank the mysterious liquid like it was cold medicine.
The concoction strangely had no taste on her tongue as she swallowed every drop and prepared herself for the effects as she heard Erik's heavy footsteps approaching the bedroom.
She hurriedly disposed of the vial in the nearby wastebasket and flew back over, throwing herself into the center of the bed, adjusting her robe skirt around her body and resting her head on the pillow Erik had laid her on, trying to slow her erratic pulse to appear just as he left her.
Emmy listened intently with her eyelids mostly closed, looking through her veiled lashes as Erik went to the en suite bathroom and started the bath with running water in the tub for her. The nausea and repulsion swam through her bones and she dreaded his touching her naked body as she listened to his footsteps coming toward her on the bed.
She felt the ridiculously gaudy ruby tiara being removed from the top of her head as his fingers stroked back her hair. His deep voice hummed to himself Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries as his pawing hands began peeling off the cotton black stockings from her legs. She peered through her eyelashes and saw his preoccupation with removing her clothing, how he wasn't paying attention to if she was awake or not.
And Emmy took her chance, grabbing the tiara and pointing the jeweled tip toward Erik as he looked up in surprise. Before he could react to her feigning being chloroformed, she aimed the pointed crown in the second long instant she had and stabbed him straight in his eye-socket, earning her a rewarding, agonized scream of animalistic rage from her insane captor.
Erik placed his hand over his eye, trying in vain to stop the inevitable bleeding out she had undoubtedly caused, but not even that pain could stop him from grabbing for her when she tried to flee out of the room. His hand latched onto her ankle as he collapsed to the carpet, causing her to trip and allowing him to drag her away from the door.
Emmy screamed in desperation as his clutching onto her with only one hand led to her being pulled forcefully to the bathroom where the tub was overflowing now with boiling and steaming water. But Erik wasn't concerned with that so much as punishing her for injuring him so...
And Emmy was certain in her panicked state of mind that he intended to drown her...
"Why, Emmy?! Why are you making me do this?!" Erik bellowed, hoisting her up painfully by her hair with both of his bloodied hands and pushing her up against the sink where her cranium struck the mirror, breaking its surface and causing glass shards to fall around them. "I loved you. I WANT you!"
She saw the very face of her nightmares as she looked into his permanently damaged eye socket, still leaking burgundy blood down one half of his sculpted face, his expression haunting her line of sight with fury and almost juvenile confusion as to why she would do such an act of violence.
His hands wrapped around her throat and began to squeeze tight, bruising her neck even more, pressing against her windpipe and she began to choke. Her hands clawed uselessly at his long fingers, and he was still too strong. Emmy knew she only had so much time left with her consciousness, whether he killed her now or if the potion she just ingested took hold of her in the next few moments.
Black dots began to cloud her vision as Erik's lips widened into a voracious grin of victory at his having her suffering at his mercy, the bathwater flooding the floor under his feet. And yet he was astounded that she was talking still to him with the position he had her trapped in. "I see how small and pathetic you are, Erik. I've seen it every day since we met. You don't scare me anymore and I've made sure that you will never be admired or loved by anyone ever again..."
He seemed to take the bait, absorbing her words with a boyish inquisitiveness as his hands only slightly loosened their grasp around her esophagus as she kept speaking.
"You've should've thought twice about sending me those pictures you took when you stalked me in London. Sneaking into my hotel room to watch me sleep like the weak, deprived pervert you are. And I've been with someone who's a million times the man you could ever dream of being... with William Schofield in 1917!" Emmy managed to rasp out as his thumbs placed more pressure on her larynx.
Erik seethed out a venomous hiss at the mention of the corporal's name. "Do you really think I'll let you go back to his arms or his bed, my schatzi? Let you be a slut to that weak Englishman?"
Emmy spat out to him in her bodily harmed voice. "I'd rather be his slut than your bride, Erik!"
He almost released her throat completely at her words, but his grip on her remained, keeping her on the sink. And she kept talking, distracting him as her hand moved to the side, reaching out...
"I sent emails of your pictures of me to everyone. All the people in my email contacts at the library, and my landlady... I messaged all of them in a scheduled text and emails that I was in danger from you. By now, they'll have contacted the police and they're searching for both of us. And no doubt this place is in your family's real estate records of houses the Baumers purchased in Virginia since we met." Emmy bravely spoke further, diminishing his power over her with each word from her lips.
"You lying bitch... once I'm done with you here..." Erik began threatening her, but Emmy rolled her eyes, annoyed and feeling her chance running out.
"Don't bother with saying you'll kill me or imprison me. Either way, you're gonna face consequences... but not with the cops when they get here." Emmy kept eye contact with him as she clasped onto her weapon, speaking to him more. "You'll get out of prison sooner or later probably, so jail isn't guaranteed to keep you from hurting anyone else."
And with one swipe of her hand with the mirror glass piece, she slit a deep gashing slice across Erik's own throat, above his Adam's apple where maximum amount of blood loss would occur. His face froze with disbelief and silent shock as he started gurgling and struggling the breathe; his undamaged eye focused with deadened loathing straight at her as she pushed him toward the overflowing tub and shoved his hulking body into the scalding water.
Emmy yelped at the hot temperature as she used her full weight to hold him down even though she was considerably more petite in mass than Erik. Dark scarlet coloration filled the clear water as she watched Erik convulse brutally under her, bubbles floating to the surface as it became apparent that he was drowning in addition to the rapid outpouring of blood mixed with her own from his fatal wounds and her injured hand.
Tears of relief flowed down Emmy's face as she restrained him still, several minutes passing as he flinched and twitched and seized... until he stopped moving and no more signs of life were evident from the man who had terrorized her for so many months was finally gone. The blood dyeing the water concealed his wounded face from her view as she climbed out of the tub, turning off the faucet and making her way to the bed.
Her fingers clutched onto the chain around her throat where the damning "engagement" ring hung upon her bosom like iron shackles binding her to the man she had just killed in self defense. Emmy pulled the clasp apart from behind her neck, freeing herself literally and figuratively from Erik's hold over her, and she tossed the jewelry aside to the floor. Something she had once thought so gorgeous and invaluable now only served as a reminder of almost being forced into marriage with an irredeemable cold hearted violator of her body and sanity.
You did it, Emmy. He's gone and he can't hurt you anymore. The police will be here to help soon. Tom's voice comforted her as the lightheadedness started to fog her senses.
"Tom... I'm so glad to hear your voice again. I...feel so tired now. I...I just need to sleep." Emmy staggered over to the strangely welcoming bed and climbed onto the pillows, feeling as though she were floating on a cloud. "If...if I don't wake up... tell Will and Joe that I'm sorry... and Molly and the girls. And give them my lasting love. I promised Cici and Elle I'd tell them my version of Peter Pan next."
She didn't hear a response as darkness enveloped her sight with her closing eyelids and her heartbeat echoed in her ears.
Instead, the ghostly whisper of Will's voice beckoned her, flowing through like a calm river into her fading awareness... "Emmy... Emmy..."
She managed to weakly murmur as her voice lost strength, the bruises from Erik's strangling her throat pulsating with discomfort. "I hear you... where are you, my Will?"
Emmy felt an unorthodox bliss as the potion seeped into her veins. She swirled down into the depths of remembrance and her love for her truest soldier William Schofield... should she succumb to the "sleeping death" forever.
The last thing she heard before sinking into the ether was the sound of police sirens outside...
After all, to die would be an awfully big adventure.
.
.
Emmy's body had completely vanished into oblivion when the police were able to burst through the penthouse front door, completely baffled by the bloody scene in the bedroom and en suite.
Despite his death, Erik Baumer was posthumously convicted for the abduction and death of Emmanuelle Hunterson, his family's name and funding withdrawn by the Richmond Library. His public reputation was smeared, with the evidence sent forward by the woman at the center of his obsession to her colleagues.
Police searched every inch of the secluded property's grounds for a week before calling off the search for Emmanuelle's body. Her blood splattered from the broken glass in the entryway and the bedroom along with the state of Erik in the tub gave the conclusion of a murder-suicide. The mannequin donned with a curly brunette wig and wedding dress was enough to confirm the extent of his fixation with the presumed dead woman.
Her mother Fiona Hunterson, with whom she had minimal contact over the last couple of years, was issued a death certificate for her daughter, and when she was questioned by police about when she had last spoken to Emmanuelle, she played the voicemail left on her phone from the day of her disappearance.
Emmy's phone and wallet were left clumsily on the floor of her apartment as Erik spirited her away, tipping off to her land-lady to alert the authorities of Erik's true nature.
A modest funeral with an empty casket was given for Emmanuelle Hunterson, declared as officially being dead on April 10th, 2020.
Everyone who knew Emmanuelle surrounded the grave as the casket was lowered into the ground, including all the employees of the Richmond Library, who had even managed to close it the day of the service out of respect for the late woman who had given much dedication to her work.
And within the month, a whole section of the library itself, the historical romance section, was named in memorial to Miss Hunterson...
And nobody would ever know the whole truth of what had happened to the woman who called herself a proudly odd bookworm, their very own brunette bespectacled beauty. Some of the schoolchildren who visited the library on field trips even nicknamed her "Belle" after the beloved Disney princess with her kindness and patience toward all of the staff and patrons...
Her death would be a loss to those who knew her, but to know what really happened would be too much to fathom, but they kept faith that she was in a better place where her soul was cherished and protected forever.
.
.
September 20th, 1917
On the outskirt border of Surrey, England, it began just like any morning. The late summer rain poured down, drenching the grounds in soaking mud.
Lieutenant Joseph Blake was awakened in his old bedroom by a crashing peal of thunder as a lightning bolt illuminated the grey sky. He looked to the side at his old table that held framed pictures of his mother Catherine, Tom and the Technicolor portrait of Emmy... the people most precious to him.
The loyal chocolate Labrador Myrtle, recovered well from the birth of her six healthy puppies that had recently all been adopted, including one by Cecelia and Giselle Schofield, was barking incessantly as though she was in distress.
The raven haired man had returned a month ago from a shorter time away in France, being sent home due to an injury to his leg from shrapnel when he had gone over the wall with his men in another seemingly pointless attack at the enemy.
He had recovered well for the most part with the occasional spasm in his calf. Part of him wondered if the wound was psychosomatic since being physically healed...
Joe rolled over in his bed, opening his bleary eyes to his room he had shared with Tom in their boyhood. How he loathed waking up every morning to an empty, silent house. Ever since his mother... and then dearest Emmy were gone...
But Myrtle's barking kept him from sinking back into sleep as the rain pattered on the roof of the house.
She never made so much noise unless something was amiss.
He dressed quickly out of his nightclothes, pulling his trousers over his legs and placing his boots on before going downstairs to see what was happening to make his beloved pet stay outside in inclement weather.
"All right, old girl. I'm coming, just hold on." He called out to the female canine, knowing her sharp hearing would pick up on his voice. The further he went downstairs, the alarm bells in his mind were higher pitched in their ringing as he opened the front door and made his way out to the porch.
He peered into the cool fog around him and saw the brown furred shape of Myrtle laying in the front yard in the mud and shallow puddles. The dog's whines made dread coil in his stomach as he saw through the rain what seemed to be someone lying in the grass, dark hair splayed around their head with Myrtle pacing back and forth as she looked up at Joe.
A woman lay before him in his yard... and he knew that glorious waterfall of tresses and pale skin anywhere...
He dropped to her side on his knees, gently turning her to see her face, wiping away tendrils of hair tangled with grass blades.
Emmanuelle... she had come back after all...
A swell of happiness spread through his chest, but as he absorbed her unresponsive condition, worry and the memories of his nightmares about her death invaded the forefront of his frazzled mind.
"Emmy... dearest one... Please, open your eyes. Can you hear me?" He searched her features for any sign of reaction to his attempts to rouse her. Not a single flinch or movement of her brow...
He did a quick survey of what he could see of her body, feeling ashamed and confused at seeing her in most unusual clothing that revealed her bare legs and slight figure...
She appeared to have no visible injuries...
What on earth had happened to her? What atrocities had this fiend of her nightmares Erik Baumer committed to render such a lively, stubborn woman into such a vulnerable state?
Just like Joe's haunted dreams of finding her dead, being fatally too late to save her.
Don't be afraid, Joe. Emmy lives... she only has the faintest pulse and heartbeat if you listen close. She was taken by Erik, and she defeated him, but at a cost... She was injured, but traveling back to 1917 healed her body... She drank a potion that would put her in the deepest of slumbers.
Tom's voice echoed in his elder brother's head to assure him that the woman he loved was alive, but balancing on a tightrope between life and death.
Everything clicked in Joseph's mind as he remembered the photograph she had found. Where she was laying on a platform with her body monumentalized in candlelight and endless flowers...
Emmy had fallen into the "sleeping death" as prophesized...
He with-held a hurricane of sobs building in his lungs as he lifted up the girl into his arms as gently as possible, cradling her with all the love he possessed in his body. Half of her face rested against his pectoral, his chin on top of her head to shield her from the rain.
"You're going to be alright, dearest one. You've returned to us now." He looked forlornly at her frozen expression of repose, seeing her cheeks and lips still retain their ensign of blossom pink and crimson rose, her veins ever still hot-blooded. "We're gonna take care of you. I'll fetch Molly and the doctor... and I'll write to your Will. He'll be by your side soon, I promise. If I must write to all his superior officers or swim across the French channel to bring him back to you, I shall."
He whispered to her whatever came to his head as he steadfastly carried her out of the down-pouring rain and into the dry house, Myrtle following him close behind. His lips barely brushed her forehead with just a touch of a kiss...
She had to awaken... she had to...
This damned enchantment that was preventing this most treasured lady from opening her eyes and talking and laughing and arguing with him and irritating him...
So many lives here she had touched with her compassion and strength and aptitude.
Such a rare unearthly angel should not be carelessly left to lie in his yard like disposable rubbish...
He wouldn't let her be prisoner to this limbo of eternal sleep. To bring her back, he would do anything; confess any sin he had committed before God Himself.
Joseph tenderly deposited her onto the chaise, laying her head on the softest cushion in the parlor; he was blessed with the reassuring sound of her breathing from her lungs and the pulse of blood in her wrist as he held her hand... but only just barely noticeable as her lovely face and fragile limbs remained deathly still.
The lieutenant murmured comfortingly to her peaceful features, stroking her glorious ribbons of chestnut hair with utmost adoration in each of his calloused fingers. "Please, don't let your fire go out, dearest one. Beautiful Emmanuelle... you must fight with all your strength and I will do what it takes to see you revived in full health from this spell."
With the most delicate kiss to her scarred hand, which he was distraught and confused to see her promise ring from Will missing from her finger, Joe remained by her side as he planned how he would break the news to Molly and her girls of Emmy's return and her condition...
...as well as what he would write to Corporal Schofield in telling him about the woman they both loved floating in the deepest void of slumber.
If Emmy was the sleeping princess awaiting her beloved hero to save her from looming death, then Joseph would see William return to Surrey and bring her salvation.
What was true love if not to conquer the darkness and despair of losing her?