Page 9 of Saved By the Headless Horseman
“You will stay in here until I have use for you,” he declares.
The truth of that statement settles into my bones.I’m at his mercy.If I were unable to take my life on my terms, he would surely decide for me.He can be decisive where I am weak.
Bending down, he plucks his head up by the stem and fashions it to his shoulders again.With a wave of his hand, a metal plate appears with a small loaf of bread and a cup of water.At least he doesn't have any plans to starve me to death, it would seem.
Pity, seeing as I’m already halfway there.
Still, my disloyal stomach growls.I dare not touch it, though.Without another word, he turns and heads back towards the stairs.His figure becomes harder and harder to see as he moves away from the torch.
“What do you want from me?”I ask, shocking both of us.
His steps pause, but he doesn’t turn around.I think he’ll ignore my question as the silence stretches.
“Once you learn that, all of this will make sense.”
Without another word, his steps echo up the wooden stairs.The sound of the heavy wooden door slamming shut makes my teeth clench.It is cold in this cell—damp.I can hear the squeaks and soft scurrying of the creatures who have been living in this castle long before I arrived.
Hopelessness presses down on me.Maybe I would’ve been better off jumping than being stuck here.Fear has controlled so much of my life.It was fear preventing me from leaving withhimwhen I should’ve—it is fear that’s put me in this cage.When will I ever learn?
Surely death would’ve been better than this.Rotting in some filthy cell all alone.I stare at the food but can’t bring myself to take it.There seems to be only one thing I can do, shocking as I find it.
I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them.Then, for the first time in weeks, I do the impossible.
Cry.
6
THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN
Rib-breaking sobs echo throughout the abandoned castle.
It stirs a strange feeling inside of him.A sensation he was sure had turned to ash in the face of his molten rage.His chest aches both with this unwelcome sensation and from his efforts to ignore it.
In his heart, he longs to go to her and offer the one thing he knows she needs: comfort.
When he had come upon her in that room, had she really intended to jump?Even as his prisoner, the girl he knew never would’ve sought such an end.It made no sense to him.Why would she seek her death when she had not spent this last month writhing in torment as he had?
His suffering was her fault.How dare she seek to end herself before having atoned for it?He never really knew her at all.That is what he must remind himself of.No matter how much of it was real for him, sometime during those years, she became a liar.Perhaps she was one since the beginning, and liked how far she could get him to stray to please her.He had paid the ultimate price for her in the end, and she saw him put down like any other animal.
The pain comes roaring back, fresh and unyielding.
It nearly brings him to his knees as he remembers the agony of the earl’s blade and his broken limbs.More than anything, he remembers her words.They were the last things he read before the final blow was delivered.He still had that physical reminder in his pocket now, and it strengthened him.
The Headless Horseman would not go to her.Not now and not ever.She could cry herself ill for all he cared—sob until her nose bled and her eyes burned.She deserved every moment of pain and fear.
It was she who kindled this rage in him.Their betrayal had been one thing, but hers—it had twisted his soul in the end.She was the reason he became this vile creature.Vengeance would be the only absolution afforded him.Her words had put him on the path to ruin.
In the end, it was her words that had echoed in his mind as the sword was raised, and it severed the head from his shoulders.
7
SCARLETT
There is no concept of time in this dank, dark dungeon.
Through my swollen eyes, I surmise that it must be the next day.My sobs had exhausted me enough to doze for a handful of minutes at a time.A chill damp spreads throughout my stone cell.The uneven floor bit into my bottom, and the hard wall scraped along my back.
Ripping off another piece of stale bread, I throw it into the dark side of the cell and hear the scurry of tiny feet.Best the rats keep over there and far away from me.
