Page 7 of Saved By the Headless Horseman
The numbness inside me is fading.The adrenaline of all that I’ve just witnessed is tearing down my walls of despair.
“Do you know who I am?”the creature repeats.
I nod.Instead of fleeing, I am answering its questions.What has happened to me?A chance like this may not present itself again, yet for some reason, I don’t take it.I don’t want to live—and yet when faced with the certainty of death, I waver.I don’t know what to make of this revelation.All of this is too confusing to bear.
The creature chuckles.With slow steps, he approaches me with the extended blade, only stopping when the sharp tip presses against the thick material of my bodice.My heart pounds wildly mere inches from the dagger’s deadly edge.
Do it,I will the creature.End me.Make the decision for me and reunite me with him.
The creature stares at me, green flames quieting inside the pumpkin.
“No, you don’t,” he sighs.
The blade retracts from my chest.I refuse to believe it’s relief I feel as he stows the blade.
“But you will.”
Before I can say a word or make a run for it, he waves his hand.The scent of metal stings my nose and suffocates my lungs.Then there is nothing but darkness.
4
THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN
She doesn’t look right.
When he had lifted her into his arms and loaded her onto his horse, she had barely weighed anything.Her shockingly frail body had set his nerves on edge.Draped over his horse, he can see her with striking clarity.Something is off.
Her once luminous skin is sallow.With cheekbones sharp enough to cut himself on and hair that hangs in limp tangles down her back, something creeps into his blood.It threatens his resolve, urges him to reconsider when he would be a fool to do so.
His fingers burn with the urge to thread them through her hair.To brush them over the familiar planes of her face, but that would be unwise.He cannot be distracted by her.He’s come so far, and his revenge is already in motion.
There is no space to feel anything for her beyond hatred.He will keep her with him for a time—but only as a means to an end.Only to prolong her suffering until her confession spills from her traitorous lips.He will only be granted peace once they all fall in penance for their crimes.
The demands of his creation could not have been clearer.He was forged from rage—from a soul not at rest.In this form, he would inflict his revenge.If he wanted to find peace, those responsible would be made to pay for their deeds.
A legend he was not, but one he would surely become.
Soon, blood would coat the walls of Crow Claw’s Manor and Blackwood Castle.The duke died too quickly, but there was nothing to be done for it now.The others would just have to suffer more in his stead.Once they had paid the price, he would sink his dagger into her and end this once and for all.
Her betrayal was worse than theirs, and therefore her punishment had to be greater.It was what she deserved—all of it had been a lie.He died over a lie.She would know pain and fear the way he had.She would wallow in it until he granted her the mercy of death.
There is no room inside of him for kindness.His plan was already in motion.Resolve settles into his bones as he flicks the reins and urges his horse to go faster.TheWhispering Woodsrush around them in a blur as he takes her deep into the forest.
No one will find them.From this moment on, Lady Scarlett Crest is no more.
5
SCARLETT
Darkness greets my eyes once I’m able to blink them open.
Pain radiates from my body, but that isn’t new.Feeling down myself, I find my dress intact, save for the dirt and grass stains along the tattered hem.The tight lacing is no doubt to blame for the bruising of my ribs.Each breath is shallow.
Not to mention, it’s been hours since my mother’s servants force-fed me one of those vile concoctions.Hunger pains shred my stomach, and I nearly double over.The pain is the only sign that I am alive, despite what I had intended for today.
The Headless Horseman had not ended me in the same manner as the duke.Instead, he brought me here—wherever I am.There is no sign of him anywhere.There aren’t any signs of life in this barren room.
Beneath me was a thin, moth-bitten mattress that had seen better days.The room is devoid of furniture.The wallpaper is discolored and rolled up along the corners.The wooden floorboards are bent and eaten through.A smattering of cracked statues and dented busts linger around the room.Each one is covered in dust and thick cobwebs.
