At Your Service [Tommy Shelby]

Cosmic Secret

It's dark, pitch dark, no glimmer of light to be found. A chilling wind caresses her face, an eerie reminder that she is at least outside. She cautiously lowers herself to the ground, the cold, wet soil beneath her fingertips sending shivers down her spine. With a desperate yearning for an escape from this eerie void, she lets her hands lead the way, crawling painstakingly through the clammy earth, seeking anything that will bring illumination to her nightmarish surroundings. 

Time seems to lose its meaning as she forges ahead, compelled by an inexplicable sense of déjà vu. Each inch she traverses is fraught with an unsettling familiarity, as if some hidden memory beckons her to continue her haunting crawl in search of light.

She crawls and crawls and  suddenly.. a burst of brilliance ruptures the darkness, a flare igniting the murky air around her.  Yet, the light reveals a sinister scene. The soil, once barren, is now populated with motionless soldiers, their lifeless bodies marred by a chilling crimson hue. It is as though the flare has summoned their ominous presence from the very earth itself.

The hairs on her neck stand up, she has been here before. Vivian's heart pounds with a mix of terror and recognition—she has been here before. How has she failed to notice the haunting silence that seems to echo with the weight of ominous secrets? Silence only means one thing, the thing she has not been able to escape.

As if in response to her thoughts, the once-lifeless soldiers come to life, their anguished cries for help piercing through the night. The field of wounded souls seems endless, and the desperate efforts of the few nurses attending to them prove futile against the tide of suffering.

A weary woman runs past her and yells at her: "Come on! Help them for crying out loud!" It is only then that she notices she, too, is clad in her nursing attire. Driven by the compulsion to help, she rushes to a wounded soldier, offering solace with hushed words of reassurance. But the soldier's eyes meet hers, his voice hauntingly subdued as he whispers, "you're too late." Horror seizes her as the soldier's head withers in her hands, a ghastly sight that unleashes an agonized scream from deep within her soul.

Abruptly, Vivian awakens, her body drenched in a cold sweat, and her tear-streaked face bears witness to the nightmarish intensity of her dreams. Reality comes rushing back as she glances around the familiar sight of her bedroom, her maid outfit hanging innocently on a chair. She steadies herself, sitting on the edge of her bed, visibly trembling from the chilling grip of the dream's haunting embrace. She hopes that her screams were merely a dream and did not echo through the mansion, that would sure raise some unwanted questions.

In the aftermath of the haunting nightmare, Vivian makes her way to the sink, her heart still racing from the chilling imagery that had unfolded in her mind. With trembling hands, she splashes cool water on her face, seeking to wash away the remnants of the terrifying dream. As she glances up at the mirror, she is met with the sight of her nightgown, absolutely drenched in sweat, a stark reminder of the intensity of her fear.

After a minute of gazing into her own eyes, determined to regain her composure, she decides that a much-needed smoke might help ease her nerves. Uncertain of the rules about wandering through the house at night, she chooses to take the risk. Silently slipping on her nightrobe, she opens the door with the utmost care, trying to make as little sound as possible. With graceful tiptoes, she descends the stairs and heads towards the backdoor.

The moment the door opens, the refreshing night air envelopes her, providing an instant sense of calm. This is precisely what she fucking needed—a moment of solitude and solace amidst the mysterious grounds of the house. Vivian makes her way to a bench outside, positioned to overlook most of the vast land surrounding the house.

Exhaustion weighs heavily upon Vivian's shoulders as she sits on the bench, her fingers clutching the tin of cigarettes. With a flick of her lighter, the end of the cigarette glows red, and she takes a long drag, seeking solace in the tendrils of smoke that fill the air around her. The nicotine helps to ease her mind, granting a temporary respite from the relentless grip of the night terrors that haunt her.