Narcissus

Chapter Thirty-Six

When I was nearly thirteen, my father broke my arm in a fit of rage.

The fear that I felt then was nothing compared to what I felt now. Elise's eyes were damp and overly bright as my eyes flickered erratically around the grand dining room. The walls were a muted grey, accented with swirls of gold embedded in the panels.

A resplendent, magnificent yet wholly disturbing tapestry stretched across the length of the far end of the room. It depicted a scene I could hardly stomach, an image that made sick rise in my throat but that I almost couldn't look away from. It depicted at least nine women, strung up by their necks and utterly nude as impish, distorted creatures danced in a circle around them, fire burning in their eyes. My mind could hardly comprehend the horrific nature of the tapestry, nor the size of it; the women were almost as large as me.

"The Pendle witches," came Thin Man's voice, "A tragic tale," he crooned, but the look of delight in his eyes betrayed his vapid words. Arthur Elderflower sat at the head of the resplendent, carved, wooden dining table, his head almost perfectly fitting into a gap in the tapestry as if he were part of it.

Elise and I stayed utterly silent. Hardly moved an inch.

"So, this has been really lovely, Arthur," I began, "And we'll definitely be back to visit, but we'd love to go now. Nothing against you, of course," I swallowed, "But I'd love a shower. In my own house. At home. Not here."

"That's absolutely fine," Thin Man nodded, "You may leave," he conceded. Even Elise looked up at that in confusion.

After a second of silence, the black haired brute burst out into raucous laughter. It stung my ears like a warning klaxon, abrasive and utterly deafening, his cackle reverberating around the walls like he was everywhere and nowhere all at once. The way his laugh echoed gave me that odd, fearful feeling like when you're a young child and you get lost at a carnival, and you're scared, and every noise just becomes so overwhelming and you come to your own, twisted conclusion that you'll never find your parents ever again, and you'll be trapped by carnival clowns for the rest of your life.

However, the important distinction is that in those situations, you would always somehow find your parents again. They would turn up, sick with worry, and swoop you into their arms, wiping away your tears with a soft handkerchief. Now, though, there was no one. We were alone, and the fear was all encompassing, taking over your mind like a sick disease. The grandeur of the house; the villainous laugh, the dungeons, the candlesticks. I felt like I was trapped in a horror movie and I knew exactly how this one was going to end. One of us, I thought, one person in this room, was not going to make it out of this house alive, and I would be damned if that person was Elise. So my eyes narrowed on Arthur, on Thin Man, on the sadistic fool, as he sat opposite me with a smug grin on his scrawny face.

Then, I blinked. And I blinked again. Stilled in my chair, memories flooding into my brain like they had never escaped me.

I remembered.

It was him. The night I was attacked; that was where I recognised him from. Arthur Elderflower had tried to stab me, tried to murder me, and it was only now that I realised it.

Standing up in a haze of violent, frenzied rage I clutched my knuckles with ferocity, eyes bulging out of my skull, "You fucking coward!" I screeched, "You low-life, no-good, bottom feeder!"

Elise glanced up in shock, eyes wide and fearful. Rounding the table, I snatched a golden candlestick from the centre, pure, unadulterated anger flowing through my veins in a maddening, furied gush of liquid as Elise stood up frantically, "Emma! Stop!"

"You tried to fucking kill me!" I screamed. Raising the candlestick above my head, I relished in the look of pure fear in the man's eyes as I delivered the blow with a sickening thud. His head slumped. The metal connected with his face just seconds before he lifted his hands in fear and a delighted shiver ran down my spine, addictive and euphoric. Blood trickled from the weapon down my arm, and I watched it with delirious fascination until a shrill voice rang out in the thick silence.