Morbid Bite

II :: The Nobleman

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MORBID BITE

Chapter Two: The Nobleman

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Belle's head rested on the man's shoulder. Her eyes were lightly shut and every so often they fluttered open, revealing the white of her eyes; all she could sense was the jagged movement as the man struggled with her in his arms. The white brick house they approached was freckled with cracks. Its grandeur spoke of an ancient past, the stairways and hallways echoing with the ghosts of its past. Yet, the house was not as ancient as first appeared, it was simply worn down with memories.

The man's face stained as he carried Belle towards the mansion. He tried his best to knock on the door, while keeping hold of Belle's body, so she did not drop onto the cold ground. The sun was beginning to cast a yellow glow over the frosted ground and the man's eyes followed the sun's light as it ran across the earth. He turned his head back to the entrance and slammed his fist on the rosewood door.

"Mrs Coté!" he yelled. His eyes lingered on Belle's cut face.

A stoat woman opened the door, her tiny frame in eyeline with Belle's head that hung limp around the man's forearm. Her eyes widened in shock as she noticed the blood and dirt which covered her face.

"Master Lyon!" she exclaimed as the man pushed past her and into the entrance hall.

Belle moved her head and lifted her eyelids open, her gaze locking with the woman who shook dumfounded in front of them. The poor woman was closing the door behind them and fumbling around with the locks when the voice of her master rocked her back into reality.

"Mrs Coté, where shall I take her?" He stared intently at his housemaid.

"Oh." She gulped and pulled her bonnet tighter around her greying hair. "Take her through to the kitchen."

Mrs Coté bundled towards the servant's stairs that lead down into the kitchens. The man followed his eyes on the floor so not to trip over any frayed edges of carpet. The kitchen table was covered in equipment but Mrs Coté battered the things away with her arms, creating room for the Belle's limp body. The man placed her onto the table with great care, so not to jolt any of her open wounds. The housemaid brought out a basin of cold, clean water from the larder, poured it into a glass and carefully tipped the liquid into Belle's mouth, who began to cough making Mrs Coté spill some water onto her cheek.

"Master Lyon, I need to examine her wounds." She waited a moment to see if he would leave, but he stood next to the women his hand not leaving the woman's side. Not waiting for a hint from her master she began to unbutton Belle's torn dress. The man's eyebrows rose, and he left, feeling it would be wrong to stay and watch.

Mrs Coté removed the once elegant dress and examined Belle's wounds. Most were simple scratches that covered her torso, which had torn through the fabric and grazed her soft skin. The worst wounds covered her face and feet. The maid ran her fingers over the cuts evaluating how deep the injuries were. Her rough hands were steady and using clean cloth she bathed the woman's body. Belle felt suddenly warm and safe and as the noise of the fire consumed her senses she fell into a troubled slumber.

Belle ran her eyes over the ceiling, but her vision was unfocused, and she could only make out grey shapes. A face occasionally popped into her view but vanished as fast as it appeared. The memory of her father's ripped off head exploded into her thoughts. She felt as though her body was drenched in blood and all she wanted to do was lower herself into a steaming hot bath. Yesterday morning she had been in her bedroom, looking out of her window in her family home, the sun rising over Paris. She had felt at peace with the world, like her life was about to start. She was going to marry someone she had never met, yes, but it had been a joyous occasion.