Morbid Bite

XIII :: The Devil's Monster

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MORBID BITE

Chapter Thirteen: The Devil's Monster

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Nicholas lay on the wooden floor; his head swam with the red rage of illusions and the blur of only moments earlier circling among them. That man, the one who had taken Belle, he must have knocked him out. The bastard, Nicholas pushed himself up on his elbows and glowered around the room, the rain was still hammering down on the stones outside, but the warmth of the day had returned. Swaying ever so slightly he stumbled into his study without turning on a light. The gloom of the room began to settle upon him and his mind cleared enough for him to remember. The name Belle had called, Raoul, the man she loved, the beast, it all rushed through his mind. The confession in the church his own views on the way her eyes had wandered over him, that heathen must have placed some evil spell upon Belle's heart. The truth of his words settled, and he knew what must be done.

The man slammed his fist on his study wall and began to search for his sword and pistol. A beast, the idea was almost heroic, he would save his beauty from the jaws of Satan himself. Part of Nicholas knew what he believed was wrong but the harder he searched for his weapon the more the subconscious inside of him overtook his humanity.

Mrs Cote, the old house keeper, stood by the door her frail white hand holding a candle she had fetched for her master, but the white of her eyes shimmered with tears as she noticed the state he was in. As quietly as she had arrived the small woman retreated back to the servant's quarters, her mind lost on a memory long ago, of a far harsher time.

Nicholas carried on throwing open draws and pulling open cupboards. Papers, books and stationary covered the floor, letter openers thrown with force at the paintings on the wall. His rage did not waver, in fact with each minute that passed he worsened. A rally would have to be made, one of men willing to kill the beast. A cruel, menacing deformity appeared on his face, a kind of smile that made your blood run cold. Driving his sword through the muscle of Raoul's chest and slowly turning the blade in his heart as the blood gushed from his open wound was all that filled his desire. He would rip apart his heart as Belle had done to his, but this time he would do it in a far more literal sense.

The thought of blood and death gave life to Nicholas and the throbbing in his head had all been but forgotten. The family sword danced with the light from the moon as its gaze trickled through the open window. Nicholas's eyes reflected the smooth blade his hands reaching for the holster, the knuckles of his hands blue and black. The cruel smile stayed on his face and he pulled the weapon form the wall. Finally, his actions were concise he knew what must be done and this gave him suability. He grabbed his pistol from the top draw of his desk and strode out of the house, his left leg slightly dragging behind each step.

The rain was still pounding on the ground around him and as he pulled open the stable door a clack of lightning lit up the sky in a blinding flash. The horses backed away from the open door their bodies shivering with fear. Nicholas's eyes ran over the animals as if he was choosing one of them to take to the slaughter. Taking a rein from the hanger he indolently placed the leather around the horse's freighted forehead and muzzle. The animal did all it could to protest against the smell alcohol and danger, but Nicholas led it outside into the pouring rain and threw himself up onto its back. He dug his heals into the horse's flank, jolting the animal forwards into a cantor.

The dirt road that ran from the Lyon mansion to the village was a storming stream that ran over the ground making it a wet mud land that covered the horse and rider in a layer of brown filth. The rain created an iron screen before Nicholas's eyes the dull glow from the village lights were barely visible. He had to strain his vision just to make sure he didn't fall or ram into any obstacles.