15 | VIOLENCE

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Idira ran to the room and opened the door, maybe she could help. The room lay just as deserted as it had before. Confused, Idira looked around, the cries had sounded so close. Another scream rent the air, long and thin, agonised. She turned to the window, slow. It overlooked the courtyard. The place where VanCleef did bad things.

Something inside her warned her to turn around and go back to her room, to her bunny and her colouring book. But Idira didn't listen, the screams carried on, turning to shrieks, filled with pain.

She went to the window and looked down. A nightmare met her eyes. The maid who had brought Blackie the yarn lay naked on a table, her wrists and ankles tied to the table's legs. The flesh over her torso lay open, like a door, the muscle folded back, a big, red flap, exposing her innards. Her eyes wild, she panted in terror, blood pouring out of her. Wearing nothing more than trousers and a hood, VanCleef pulled her insides out, staining his arms up to his elbows with her blood. Her guts trailed out over the table and onto the stone flags, an endless chain. The woman juddered and shat herself.

VanCleef's henchmen lounged, bored, around the edges of the courtyard. One of them smoked a roll up, he flicked its ash onto the ground, unconcerned. Why didn't they help her? Apart from the woman's shuddering sobs, the courtyard lay shrouded in complete silence. Idira sensed death stalking the maid. VanCleef ran out of guts to pull out. He reached in and pulled something else out, yanking it free. The woman's eyes rolled back into her head. Blood saturated the table and ran down onto the stones underneath. VanCleef prowled around the table, careful not slip on the woman's entrails. Idira pressed her hands against the window, whispering, desperate, begging him to finish the poor woman.

He picked up a sword from one of the weapons racks and lifted it high. He brought it down fast, against her neck. Her head rolled to one side, freed of her body. Using the point of his sword, he flicked it off the table. It hit the ground and rolled across the courtyard, blood spraying behind it.

Bile burst into Idira's throat. Before she could stop herself, she threw up, her lunch splattering against the window sill.

She crumpled onto the floor, reeling from what she had just witnessed. Her maid had no head. She threw up again, emptying her stomach until she had nothing left. The dry heaves lasted a long time.

Shaking, she left the room and closed the door. She ran to get her bunny and fled to the room with the crates, hurrying through the little corridors to her hiding place. She stayed there until the daylight in the ceiling window faded. Out in the hall, doors opened and closed, loud. She heard her name called over and over, sharp and filled with worry. VanCleef. She cried. She didn't want to see him. She huddled deeper into her hiding spot.

The door opened, letting in a shaft of light. She sniffed, the sound carried, loud. He came into the room and moved through the crates. She clutched her bunny, tighter. He was coming, she would be next. She started crying again.

Strong hands reached in and took hold of her, pulling her, gentle, out from between the stack of crates and the wall. She shrank away from him. He let out an anguished sound as she clung to one of the crates, her heart pounding.

He held out his hand to her, like she had done with Blackie under the porch the day they left home, his voice pleading.

'Little one, no. Please don't be afraid of me, you will break my heart. I will never hurt you. I swear it. She was a bad woman. She almost killed your sister. Myra is safe now.'

Idira couldn't understand, with VanCleef everything was so complicated. She wept, confusion and terror making her bawl so hard snot hung out of her nose. He waited a little while before attempting to pry her fingers from the crate. She tried and failed to resist his strength.

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