Tales of Morbid Curiosity and Deranged Love:
Story One: A Very Macabre Day
Written by Kathryn K Williams with assistance from Kimberly Williams
Chapter Seven - A Dark Calling
Maria stared at her dead reflection in her vanity mirror as she sat upon the matching plush bench before it. She was paler then she remembered being and her eyes had a glassy quality to them. She picked at a few flaks of mud from her damp dress, “Mother, what happened to me?” She inquired staring at her refection and turning her head to get a better look at the two blots that protruded from the side of her neck. She reached up and poked at one.
“Now Maria...” Clara said with a frustrated sigh. She dropped a new black gown upon the bed, a gown she personally bought for the girl only that morning, “I thought I told you not to play with those.” She crossed the room to stand behind the girl She pulled locks of the girl’s matted hair off her shoulders and stroked her damp head. It had only been hours since Ernest had retrieved the body of her beloved daughter for her. She had given him a large sum of money and a note explaining that she wanted to bury her loved ones in the family mausoleum herself, so the mortician would have no concerns about the girl’s whereabouts. She had been toying with reanimating the dead for a year now, however had only tested it on animals until now. Today she had a reason to test her theories on a living being. Some may have thought operating on her own daughter would be maddening. However, for her, the pain of being alone would have been more then she could bare. Still everything worked out perfectly and her daughter was back in her arms.
“But they feel funny.” Maria complained as she once again turned her head to look at them in the mirror, “And they look ugly. All the boys will tease me.” Her mind turned to Jamie. What will her love think? Does Jamie even know she is alive? She placed a hand upon her heart as her eyes filled with sadness
Sensing her daughter’s pain Clara grabbed a black lace scarf from its place draped over the corner of the mirror. She swiftly wrapped it around the girl’s neck, covering the bolts, and tied it loosely to the side letting the scarf fall over the girl’s shoulder, “There now, is that better?” She asked brightly as she pulled the girl’s hair out from under the scarf. She knelt down beside her daughter and look over the girl’s shoulder at her reflection in the mirror, “You look beautiful, my sweet child. Absolutely beautiful.” Clara kissed the girl on the cheek then picked up a gold brush and started to remove some of the mud from her daughter’s hair. The brush became immediately snagged on a large clump of what Clara at first assumed was more dirt. She leaned close to get a better inspection and picked at it with one of her long nails to find that it was in fact a massive blood clot on the back of the girl’s head. She righted herself quickly and tapped the back of the brush upon her shoulder while thinking, “I think I shall ask Anita to draw some water for you so you can have a bath.” She set the brush down and started to leave the room then turned around to look at her daughter one last time.
Maria looked up at her mother with her cold dead eyes, “What is it mother?” She touched the scarf around her neck, “Is something the matter? Can you see them?” She asked warily, nibbling her bottom lip.
Clara shook her head, “No, no. I’m just glad to have you home.” She gave the girl a quick smile before she left the room and headed down the hall. Along her way she stumbled upon Anita, Maria’s personal Maid, one of the few maids that she had not dismissed. Anita was young girl, about the same again as Maria, that she entrusted to her daughter a few years back and knew that she could still trust. She asked the girl if she could help her daughter with her bath, noting to be careful of the clot and the stitches on her daughter’s head. If the girl made any sign of being disturbed by the notion then Clara was oblivious to it. When the maid agreed, Clara continued her way to the main hall.
Anita stood silently in the middle of the hall watching the head mistress disappear down one of the corridors. Anxiously she turned to look upon the door to Lady Maria’s room. The rumour amongst the other servants was that Lady Greystoke brought the girl back from the dead and now Maria was a hideous monster to behold. This thought made the girl’s heart ache. She was feeling regret for telling the Lord of her Mistresses activities. She had seen Jamie and Maria the other night and was filled with jealousy for the boy. Lady Greystoke had given her to Maria when she was merely thirteen and the maid had grown rather fond of the young mistress.
Thoughts rushed through the young maids head as she cautiously approached the door. She flushed at the memories of the first time she made love to her mistress. She had been nervous about the idea, however Lady Maria was beautiful and rather instant. The young lady and noted on a few occasions about the way Anita would blush when helping her change or bathe, playfully teasing the maid from time to time. It was on one of those days, right after a bath, that Lady Maria first seduced the girl. Lady Maria told the maid that it was just a test. To see if she real loved women over men in every way.
Anita looked up at her mistress’ door and swallowed hard at the thought of Lady Maria’s soft fingers running across her body. She had never felt anything so wonderful in her entire life. She licked her lips nervously and lightly knocked upon the door, “It is Anita, Lady Maria,” The maid’s blush deepened at her own words, Lady Maria insisted from the time they first meet, before Anita was even assigned to her, that Anita refer to her by her first name only. Then a frown crossed her face. She truly thought she was Lady Maria’s until that newspaper boy came along, however now he probably thought Lady Maria was dead and would not be around any longer. Her smile returned at that thought, “I am here to draw your bath.” She called out again and awaited Lady Maria’s call.
“Come in.” Maria’s voice drifted from beyond the door causing the maids heart to flutter.
Anita carefully opened the door and peered into the large shadowy livingroom, the only light was a soft glow caused by the fireplace. All the curtains were drawn tightly closed to not allow a single bit of daylight to enter. It took a moment for the maid’s eyes to adjust to the dimness as she searched the room for her mistress. Finally her eyes fell upon the silhouette of a person standing near the fireplace. The flickering light created a slight radiance around the person, “Lady Maria?” Anita probed as she stepped into the room a slight bit more to see that the person’s back was to her.
“Anita, my sweet, sweet, Anita.” Maria voice drifted across the room. Anita felt herself smile as she heard the recognizable sound of her mistress’s voice. The silhouette bowed its head and placed a hand upon the fireplace mantel, “Anita, what am I to do with you.” Maria shook her head slowly.
Anita stepped back slightly, “I’m not sure what you mean, My Lady?” She was beginning to feel nervous.
“Don’t lie to me!!” Maria snapped, “Father told me that one of the maids were spreading rumours about me and Jamie.” She growled.
“I...” Anita stammered and stumbled backwards until she bumped into the door causing it to close, “I didn’t mean...”
“What?” Maria spun around and set her dead eyes on the girl, “You didn’t mean for me to be killed?” Maria asked, her anger mixed with a mild inquisitiveness, “What did you think would happen if Father found out I was sleeping with a commoner? What? Do you think that he would simply forbid it and that would be the end of that? Did you think that we would live happily ever after?” She asked bluntly causing Anita to cringe against the door.
“I...” Anita tried to think, but her mind was middled, she finally blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “Lady Maria! I love you!” She exclaimed.
The anger in Maria’s eyes washed away and was replaced by confusion, “H... how... you can’t love me... look at me.” She turned up a lamp that stoop upon one of the end tables and was bathed in soft light. Anita’s eyes darted over her mistresses. Maria still wore her damp dress, her hair was clinging around her pale face. There were spots of blood spatter upon her cheeks and deep dark stretches across her brow and her eyes no longer held the bold green they used too, “I’m not even alive anymore. How could you possibly love me?” She crumbled to the ground and curled her knees up close, “I’m a monster.” She muttered.
Anita cautiously crossed the room taking in Maria’s new looks. She tilted her head to the side and smiled, “You are not all that, My Lady.” She expressed with a new smile and knelt down beside the girl, “You just need a warm bath and everything will be alright.” She explained lightly, trying to not allow herself to show her unease over the rather gruesome scars upon her mistresses face.
Maria looked into the young maid’s eyes, “You really don’t think I’m ugly?” She asked warily, not sure if she really wanted to hear the answer.
Anita brushed a strain of hair from the girl’s face, “We’ll get the blood washed up and maybe cut your bangs so those stitches don’t show as much and you will be good as new. I promise you, My Lady.” She gave the girl a reassuring smile then began to stand, “I’ll go start your bath then, My lady.” She turned to leave when Maria grabbed her by the hand. Anita looked down at her Mistress however Maria did not return her gaze.
“Thank you.” Maria muttered, “And I’m sorry.”
Anita patted the girl’s hand, “I’ll always love you, My Lady.” She said in a whisper, “Always.”
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To be continued...
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All characters and situations in this tale are copyright of Kathryn Williams (2006) All rights reserved.
For more info and works, art and otherwise. Check her site at http://www.shoujoai.ca
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