by Amy Cross
She stopped and waited for a moment, but there was no reply. A few seconds later, a cold wind blew along the corridor. The whole house felt abandoned and empty, yet she knew that wasn't the case.
Looking down at her hands, Estella saw that they were back to normal. She felt a shiver pass through her chest as she thought back to the sight of Kate's dead body, but she knew that it had been Edgar's intention all along to shock her, to cause her as much pain as possible. She made her way to the study, expecting to see Edgar at the desk, but there was still no sign of him. Still, as she headed to the library, she knew he would be around somewhere, waiting for her, waiting to gloat. Finally, when she reached the ballroom, she saw him standing by the window, looking out at the dead lawn.
Over in the corner, their three children stood obediently, staring at her with bare, skeletal faces.
“At first,” Estella said with tears in her eyes, making her way toward Edgar, “I thought I was dreaming. I thought this was all a nightmare. It took a while before I realized it was your doing.”
“Mine?” he asked, keeping his back to her before turning, just slightly, and offering a faint, knowing smile. “How could all of this madness be my doing, Estella? Are you sure it's not your own mind, playing tricks on you?”
“I'm sure.”
“No,” he replied, “you're not sure. You can't be.”
“I can,” she told him. “I know you, and I know myself. You're reaching out to my mind, Edgar. Your body is still in the basement beneath the lighthouse, Quillian is probably torturing you at this very moment, and you're reaching out from your mind to mine, and you're putting all these images and thoughts into my head. You're creating this fantasy world for me.”
“If I am,” he continued, “then I am only using the building blocks that you yourself provided. I had never truly delved into your subconscious mind before, but I must say, there is true darkness in your soul. Far more than your witless, vapid, lovesick persona would suggest.”
“Is there not some darkness in your soul, too?”
He smiled. “Perhaps, but people expect it of me. With you, it's more of a surprise. Well, it was. I rather feel that people are starting to see the real Estella Graves now.”
“Maybe we belong together after all,” she pointed out.
“Do you know where you are?” he asked. “All of this is happening in the blink of an eye, Estella. Do you know why you hear Nixon's voice whispering to you from time to time, and why you feel rain falling on your skin even though there is no rain to be seen? Have you worked that part out?”
“I...” She paused, before turning to look at the three children. “They were an unnecessary touch, Edgar, were they not? Did you really have to be quite so cruel to me?”
“They were not my doing,” he replied. “Believe it or not, Estella, I merely set the seeds of this fantasy in your mind. The rest came from you.”
Stepping over to the children, she tried desperately to hold back tears as she saw their hollow eyes staring at her.
“They could have been real,” she whispered, reaching out and placing a trembling hand on the cold bone of Portia's skull. “They really could have been real, and if they had been, they would have been... perfect.”
Hearing the door creak open, she turned and saw that Edgar was making his way out to the garden.
“Mummy,” Lucian said suddenly, “when this fantasy world dies, will we die too?”
“Yes, my darling,” Estella said, turning back to him. “All three of you will die.”
“But we were never real,” Marcus said cautiously, “were we?”
She took a deep breath, as a single tear rolled down her cheek. “No, my sweet boy, you were not.”
“But if I'm not real,” Portia added, “then why am I so scared of dying?”
“I don't know,” Estella replied. “Perhaps you're just saying that to hurt me.”
“No,” Portia continued. “I really am scared, Mummy. I'm scared of the darkness that's about to swallow me up.”
“As am I,” Estella said, turning to see that Edgar was out in the garden now. She looked back down at the children, only to find that they were gone. “As am I,” she whispered again, before turning and making her way to the door. Stopping, she glanced back at the spot where the children had been, and although she told herself that they had been nothing more than constructs of her own mind, she couldn't shake the fear that perhaps, in their own way, they had briefly been alive. Finally, she made her way out to the garden and found Edgar by the fountain, where he was surveying the dead lawn and the barren trees beyond.
Above, the brooding sky rumbled with thunder.
“A very dramatic sight,” she said after a moment. “Tell me, Edgar, am I responsible for this part of the nightmare, or have you taken over?”
“It's you,” he replied, not turning to her. “It's all you, Estella.”
“My word,” she continued, making her way over to join him, and surveying the death-scape that spread out before them both, covering the entire island. “I never knew I could imagine such an awful sight. Nothing lives on Thaxos anymore, does it?”
“The whole island is dead,” he replied. “Even the beetles that feasted on the corpses are gone now.”
“So...” She paused. “So it's just you and I, at the end of everything? At the end of the world?”
“Don't get too excited.”
“So what will happen next?” she asked. “Will the ground beneath our feet give way, swallowing us up?”
He shook his head.
“Then what, Edgar?”
“There's nothing left for us,” he replied. “All we can do is contemplate the darkness, although...” He paused, before turning to her. “Where is Kate?” he asked finally.
“What do you mean?”
“In the real world,” he continued, “I have tried to reach out to her mind, but I can't find her. Is Quillian somehow blocking me?”
She paused for a moment, before deciding that discretion might be a good idea for now. “I imagine so,” she replied. “What other explanation could there be?” She waited for a reply. “So are we done here? Is your little demonstration finished? Can I go back to the misery of the real world?”
“You would rather stay here?”
She turned and looked at the door again, remembering the children.
“You would prefer to live in a fantasy,” Edgar continued, “than deal with the real world?”
“We all live with a little fantasy, don't we?” she whispered. “Mixed in, here and there?” She paused, before turning back to him. “But no, Edgar, I know I won't be allowed to see those children again. You're going to send me back to reality, aren't you?”
“Soon,” he told her, “but there is one final part of this little fantasy that you must endure first.”
“Have I not suffered enough?”
“You're the one who has to decide that, Estella. I might have brought you to this dream world, but after that I left the details of the events up to you.”
“Estella,” Nixon's voice said firmly.
“Close your eyes,” Edgar continued, with a faint smile. “I dare you.”
“Edgar, please -”
“Close your eyes. What's wrong, Estella? Don't you trust me to show you the true, depraved depths of your soul?”
She stared at him, before slowly doing as he suggested. As soon as her eyes were closed, she felt the cold breeze fall away, and she realized that something was very different. She knew that when she opened her eyes again, she'd be in some other part of her mind, and a moment later she heard the faint clanking of chains. Finally, she opened her eyes and found that she was in the basement of the lighthouse, naked and chained to the wall, her bare body illuminated only by the flickering light of a single candle.
“You've always been an expert when it comes to torturing yourself,” Edgar sneered, holding the cat o' nine tails in his right hand as he watched her. “It's part of your charm.”
&n
bsp; “Do it,” she said firmly, waiting to feel her skin being split open.
He smiled.
“Hurt me,” she continued, looking down at her bare chest and belly, and imagining the whip striking her flesh. “Do it, Edgar. What are you waiting for?”
A moment later, she heard him setting the cat o' nine tails down. Turning to look at him, she realized he was already walking away.
“Get back here!” she screamed, pulling on the chains. “Edgar, you can't just ignore me! I won't allow you to walk away! Edgar! I hurt you, now you must hurt me! Edgar!”
Still struggling to get free, she felt the chains digging into her flesh but still she pulled and pulled. Blood ran down her bare arms and the pain became stronger, but all that mattered was getting out of the chains and running after Edgar, even as she heard him making his way up the stairs.
“Estella,” Nixon said again.
“Edgar!” she screamed, with tears in her eyes as her whole body trembled. She was still trying to get free, but now she could feel more rain on her skin, as if the real world was starting to break through the illusion. Hearing a rumble sound above, she looked up just in time to see the ceiling starting to crack apart, with light bursting through the gaps.
“Estella,” Nixon said firmly.
“What do you want?” she sneered.
“Estella.”
“I want to stay here!” she shouted, as the light became blinding. “Don't make me go back!”
She blinked, and this time, when she opened her eyes, she found she was on the lawn outside Edgar's mansion. Light rain was falling from the gray sky above, and Nixon was standing nearby with Kate's lifeless body in his arms. She opened her mouth to shout for Edgar again, before gasping as she realized that the brief, waking nightmare was over.
“Estella,” Nixon continued as rain continued to fall all around them, “did you hear what I said? Kate's dead."
V
She took a step forward, barely able to believe what she was seeing.
For a moment, all she could do was stare at Kate's body. She'd only arrived a few seconds ago, but now she understood what had happened. Edgar had reached out from the basement of the lighthouse and had entered her mind, creating a vast, hallucinatory nightmare that had seemed so real and so full, yet which had taken place in only the blink of an eye. To the others, standing nearby, it must have seemed as if only half a second had passed.
“Dead?” she whispered. “Are you sure?”
“I'm sure,” he replied.
“But...” She paused again, feeling as if her mind was on the verge of breaking apart. “How?”
“She's been through so much lately,” he replied. “There's only so much damage a human body can endure before it simply stops working. I tried everything I could think of to heal her, I consulted every book, I... I had her blood all over my hands, but there was nothing I could do. You have to believe me.”
The rain was falling harder than ever now, as Estella made her way across the lawn and then looked down at Kate's dead face. For a moment, all the hatred in her heart seemed to fall quiet, and she remembered what it had been like when Kate had first arrived on Thaxos, when she'd hoped that they might become friends. In truth, she'd recognized Edgar's feelings for Kate almost instantly, and that was why she'd begun to panic. Now that Kate was dead, however, she found herself wondering whether, in different circumstances, they might have been true friends.
“What do we do?” Madeleine asked.
“There's only one thing left that we can do,” Nixon replied somberly. “We need to dig a grave.”
***
The following morning, once all the preparations had been made, Nixon looked down at Kate's face and watched as the dawn sun picked out her features. He felt as if he should say a few words, maybe something profound or deep, but nothing came to mind. A light rain was still falling, dotting the scene with small drops. Finally, he pulled the coffin lid across and fixed it in place.
“Nixon,” Madeleine said, standing nearby on the lawn outside Edgar's mansion, “are you sure there's nothing else we can do? Can't we bring her back?”
He shook his head.
“People have been brought back before,” she pointed out, with a hint of desperation. “It's not like the dead always stay dead on Thaxos!”
“They do if their soul has already left their body,” he replied, his voice tinged with sadness as he took a step back. Next to the coffin, a grave had already been dug. “Kate's soul is long gone by now. There can't be a miracle every time someone dies, Madeleine. Sometimes death is just simple and final. Maybe she wanted it this way. After everything that has happened, maybe she saw death as a welcome end.”
“But -”
As Madeleine stared down at the coffin, she felt Benjamin taking her hand. She wanted to do something, to find some way to make everything okay again, but deep in her chest she could feel a sense of cold horror, as if she already understood that there would be no quick fixes. Besides, she knew that Nixon was too smart to have missed a trick, so she figured that if he thought there were no other options, there was nothing else that could be done.
“Edgar,” she whispered finally, turning to Nixon again with tears in her eye-sockets. She could see now, just about, although her new eyes weren't yet fully-formed. “Where's Edgar?”
“I told you, he's attending to some business.”
“And he's not coming back for this?”
“I can't get in touch with him. Madeleine, please...” Pausing, Nixon looked out across the island, toward the lighthouse in the distance. “Edgar will be back when the time is right. I'm sure of it.”
“And what about you?” Madeleine asked, turning to Estella, who was standing a little further back from the rest of them. “You've brought people back to life before! Why can't you do it this time?”
“As Nixon said,” Estella replied, with tears in her eyes too, “Kate's soul has already left her body.”
“But you could try!”
“She did try,” Nixon pointed out.
“She could try again.”
“I tried and failed,” Estella continued, staring at the coffin. “There's nothing more that I can do here.”
“How do we know you tried?” Madeleine asked, stepping toward her. “For all we know, you just waved your hands around a bit, muttered some magic words you made up on the spot, and pretended you'd done all you could. We all know how you felt about Kate. Why are you looking all sad, anyway? Shouldn't you be skipping about and celebrating? Your bitter rival finally kicked the bucket.”
“I...” Estella paused, sniffing back tears. “I still liked Kate. As a matter of fact, ignoring the unpleasantness with Edgar for a moment, I esteemed Kate rather highly. She was always -”
“Make your mind up!” Madeleine hissed. “For God's sake, woman, you flip-flop back and forth on everything!”
“No, I -”
“You love Edgar, you also love that doctor. You esteem Kate, you also want her dead.”
“No -”
“Nothing's right for you, is it?” Madeleine continued, warming to her theme. “You want the world to be perfect, you want to have everything, you want everything at once!”
“Madeleine,” Benjamin said calmly, still holding her hand, “maybe this isn't the right moment.”
“Screw the right moment,” Madeleine continued, slipping away from him and heading toward Estella. “I hope you're not under the illusion that this turn of events is going to help you get Edgar back. He's gonna be extra angry when he gets back and finds out what's happened, so if I were you I'd stay well out of his way. Go back to town, get on your hands and knees and scrub your father's house, and be glad you've still got a head!”
“Are you threatening me?” Estella asked.
Madeleine stepped closer. “Yes.”
“That's enough,” Benjamin said, taking Madeleine's hand again. “There'll be time to talk about this later. For now, if Kate's truly dead, we should try to g
ive her a proper burial. She's a long way from home, Madeleine, and for better or for worse, we're the closest thing she has to a family.”
“She had a sister, I believe,” Nixon muttered, still staring at the coffin, “although she died. Well, technically she hasn't even been born yet, but after she was born, she eventually died. Cancer, I think Edgar said.” He paused, before hearing footsteps nearby and turning to see Father Prior approaching. “Oh God,” he whispered, “a priest. They always make my skin crawl.”
Stopping close to the coffin, Father Prior made the sign of the cross against his chest.
“Kate!” a voice called out suddenly.
Turning, Nixon saw Jennifer Kazakos hurrying along the path that led up from town, and a moment later she stopped when she saw the coffin. With tears in her eyes, she seemed stunned into silence for a moment, before looking over at Madeleine.
“Is it true?”
Madeleine nodded.
“But it can't be,” Jennifer continued, stepping closer to the coffin. “It just... It can't. After everything we went through, after everything she went through, this can't be how it ends!”
“I'm sorry,” Nixon said, trying to stay calm. “I did everything I could, but her body simply gave out after all the punishment it had received of late. Humans can be surprisingly tough sometimes, they can survive all sorts of punishment that one would think should kill them, but at the end of the day...” He took a deep breath. “At the end of the day, they are only human.”
“Perhaps we should begin the ceremony,” Father Prior suggested. “I find it is often better during times of great sorrow to seek solace in the comfort of God's warm embrace.”
“God's warm embrace?” Madeleine sneered, stepping toward him. “God's warm embrace? Can you hear yourself, man? What the hell kind of garbage are you trying to peddle here? Look around. Do you seriously think that any of us give a damn about God's warm embrace?”
“Madeleine,” Benjamin whispered, trying to pull her back, “not now. I'd actually like to hear what he has to say.”
