Shades of Gray

[As Day Fades]

Crash.

That was the third torch they'd thrown in, the group of men. Half of them held barking dogs on chains. The other half brandished swords, shouting for the 'heretic' or the 'accursed monster' to come out of the small barn, lest he burn to death. Yet, the alternate option seemed equally unflattering.

'By the will of our lord, we shall see you hung!'

"Cannot even decide how you will have me dead?" Thomas mused the thought, his light blue eyes watching the scene from a third-story window of the lavish manor nearby. He had snuck into Lord Orrington's home that early morning with one goal in mind, though he was far from some skilled assassin himself. No, as it were his body literally shook as an extended hand held back enough of the velvety curtain from the large-paned window for him to watch the scene outside. There were guards, and there were dogs, and now several attendants had woke and taken to the dark, chill air of the early hour in curiosity of what was going on. One of the manor's smaller barns was gradually becoming engulfed in flames.

Though he spoke of it with a jest, the emotion was forced, largely in hope to instill himself with some amount of courage. The truth was Thomas was in far over his head here and at this point quite desperate; the dogs had followed the scent of his clothes to the barn, which he'd then taken off and left there to buy himself time, wearing now only a long, loose black robe that covered his pale form and soft blonde hair. The guards...they called him 'necromancer,' too scared of his rumored ability to charge in after him, yet not too scared to light pitch and burn down something that could simply be rebuilt later.

What unnerved the 'God-forsaken heathen' most of all was where he now stood - in Lord Orrington's own bedchamber. Curved knife in one hand, lush velvety red drapes slightly being held aside in the other, Thomas watched the scene outside from a room he'd found eerily empty. "Could he have known I would come?" A pair of pale eyebrows knit together. His voice came soft, speaking to himself, "But...they do not seem to know. And yet his bed is empty. Did he...is that bastard of a man conveniently away?" His heartbeat raced with a follow-up thought. 'Or have I walked into a trap?'

The bedroom knob turned.

That velvety blockade immediately fell back over the window, once more shielding the room from outside view. Thomas' eyes were wide. His heart swiftly moved to his throat. There, in an instant, his body leaped from the window over to a tall wooden dresser beside the door, where he flattened himself against the wall on the opposite side of it. The door swung open. Had he been fast enough? Quick, deep breaths became the norm. The slender, curved knife was gripped firmly in a quivering grip.

His task seemed failed. This was about getting out alive, now.

 

[darkangel76]

Caroline’s pale eyes went wide as the loud crashing sounds reached her ears. Immediately, she sat up in her bed, her hands clutching the blankets tightly to her body. Something was going on outside, something that made her blood run cold. She could hear the shouts of men. Hear the sounds of objects being thrown. Gasping softly as the sounds became louder, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and slipped down along its edge. The floor was cold on her bare feet, but she ignored it as her curiosity only grew with each passing noise occurring outside.

Across her room, Caroline dashed toward the window. She pushed the lush drape aside so that she could peer out into the night and view the goings on outside. Her eyes were horror stricken as she watched the men throw various things at the barn. Their shouts, clearer now, made it obvious that they were calling out to a person. A necromancer.

At that, Caroline let go of the velvety curtain, her arms wrapping about herself as she backed away from her window, shivering ever so slightly. She’d seen signs for this supposed necromancer. They called him unholy, having lost sight of God. That he was faithless and many other awful things. She bit down on her lip just then, her mind running wild with so many thoughts of this man that was hiding so close to her home. Only mere yards away in their barn.

Caroline felt sorry for the necromancer. She wasn’t entirely certain how true the bold statements were that had been made by the townsfolk, by her father, regarding what he could do. Perhaps he was misunderstood? Oh, she didn’t know. But the idea of this necromancer being as such was an appealing thought to say the least. Suddenly, she felt her heart lurch, a sympathy washing over her for that poor man’s plight. It was clear that his future was grim and, when she thought on it for a moment, in some ways was much like her own.

Grim. Dismal. Nothing but despair.

Caroline’s eyes suddenly shifted over toward the mannequin standing so cold and still in the corner. The frilly white dress it donned made her body shake in terror. In just five days she was to marry Lord Benjamin Longley. A man she barely knew and most certainly didn’t love. She had no desire to marry the man. But, her family had told her it was her duty. As the daughter of a lord she must obey and do what was needed to maintain social ties. Reluctantly, she’d consented to the arrangement. One she feared and dreaded. One she wished would never come to be. One she knew she had no choice but to fulfill.

CRASH!

A loud gasp escaped Caroline at the sound of the horrifically loud noise. Much louder than the ones she’d heard earlier. Frightened, not caring that all she wore was a flimsy white nightdress, she ran out of her room and up along the corridor. The air was cold, dark. On light feet, she ran until the corridor’s end. Not pausing to catch her breath, though tucking a dark strand of hair behind an ear, she gripped the knob of the door before her and quickly thrust it open.

“Father!” Caroline shouted. “Outside, father, what…” but her voice trailed.

Caroline let go of the knob. On the other side of the room, nearest the window, she could see a shadowy silhouette looming. Waiting. Who was it? What did they want? One thing was for certain. It was not her father. This was an intruder. Suddenly, her eyes fixed on the knife the figure was holding. A stray ray of moonlight glinted off the sharp blade as he held its handle tightly in his hand

Licking her lips, her body locked with fright, Caroline pleaded, “Please, sir. I’m unarmed, incapable of fighting. But, who are you? What do you want?”

Caroline had no idea why she was attempting to plead with this person. Their intent was obviously one of dark and sinister plans. Just then, she felt herself jump. Another loud crash sounded from outside. At that, her body began to tremble. Slowly everything was coming together. Was this… could this be…?

“Please, sir. I beg you answer. I can help you leave the premises unharmed. I won’t say a word.” Caroline’s mind was racing. She had no idea if this man was the necromancer or a thief or something entirely worse. No. She had no idea of anything. But as her thoughts briefly dwelled on that white frock in her room, she suddenly decided to take a chance, her desperation claiming any and all logic she possessed. “In fact, sir. Please. Take me with you.”

 

[As Day Fades]

Had he been fast enough?

He hadn't.

The door swung open, and amidst his hasty movement to hide beside the tall dresser the woman who entered caught glimpse of him, and he her. Thomas' heart skipped a beat. His eyes instantly flashed wide, looking to hers, then to her face. Her neck. Her throat. So vulnerable, so bare...the thin, angled blade of the knife glinted with the moonlight. 'I'm not a killer!' Oh, God, but he could not ignore the sight of her neck even as his mind screamed. What could be seen of the man's pale face underneath the hood held a certain trembling hesitance to it as this woman began to speak. He heard none of it, though. The only thing Thomas was hearing as he stared blankly at this young woman's throat was the clash of words between heart and mind.

'Not a killer...I'm not... But, this woman... I can't risk... I-I'm not! But I can't...her... No! I can't risk it! She was just unlucky. Just as I've been today.'

Thomas' jaw and left wrist both lightly quivered as he stared at this woman. As he just...stared. Breathing.

What was that? ...Oh. She was talking.

"I could not leave here so easily," Thomas replied, his words barely above a whisper. His chin lifted, obscuring the top half of his face with shadow from the heavy cloak's hood. "God has set me upon a beautiful, terrible path. Were I to stray, I would not be worthy of Him." He regarded her a moment there, looking to her eyes again from beneath his hood. As he thought on Caroline's words, at least what of them he had caught, Thomas thought on them some more. And some more, quickly tossing them back and forth in his mind, mulling them over as the sound of nearby shouts and riled up canines was dulled only by the glass of the bedroom window. Funny, he thought - to an outside observer he wondered whose words would seem more peculiar, his or her own.

"What you say is... You must know who I am, hm? They call me terrible things, if they acknowledge my existence at all." The knife still held firm. "I am here to slay a misguided man by the name of Orrington, the lord of this estate. I cannot leave until this has been done. If I do, there will be too much uncertainty. Too much."

But then, the most peculiar thing happened. The thin knife slipped from the man's loosening left hand. Its tip hit the wooden floor at his feet first, blade embedding nary an inch, the whole of it wafting slightly as a blade of grass might in the breeze. "But this is all in desperation, you see. I am not much of a fighter." He took a step back, his back to the window, then slowly a second, the dark of the robe by his feet making it seem as much of a glide as it was a series of steps. "...I could probably even be overpowered by a young woman." Another step, then just one more. The weapon now sat in the wood at the halfway point between them. "Your words are odd, Miss, yet I have not the time to decipher them. Time is something I am terribly pressed for at the moment." Each hand reached slowly inside the folds of his cloak, crossed along his chest. "So, as I am pressed, so are you. What is the meaning of what you say? Am I to trust you, some servant to the house, offering to let me escape?"

Then, after a moment, his voice unerringly calm, "I dropped my knife. Will you please return it to me?"

 

[darkangel76]

Caroline felt a cold shiver run along her spine as she watched the blade fall. The strange man looked ominous as the shadows of the room danced over his hooded figure. No doubt he truly couldn’t tell just how frightening he looked to a young girl such as herself. He was too preoccupied, his mind on the goings on outside the window.

“Yes,” Caroline then whispered. “I know what they call you, what they claim you are and can do.” She paused a moment, hesitated. Her eyes fixed on the blade embedded in the wooden floor.

For the briefest of moments, Caroline considered this man’s words about overpowering. But she wasn’t a fighter either. And definitely less so than this man could ever dream. Besides, if his goal was to leave the estate unnoticed and unscathed then she knew this was the only chance she’d have before the day of her wedding fell upon her. Oh the sense of dread that threatened to consume her right then. A sob suddenly caught in her throat as she vividly saw herself walking down a long, decorated aisle. The members of court watching her, smiling those pretentious smiles that no one would have the audacity to call out. The thought made the bile rise and she had all she could do not to lose her composure.

As Caroline quickly pulled herself back together, she realized that this man’s goal was to murder her father. The man providing for her until she was married off to Lord Benjamin Longley. Her mind racing along with the beating of her heart, she let her thoughts shift on this man’s task at hand. No. She didn’t wish her father harm. Though she desperately wanted the wedding between herself and Longley called off. The very idea of cancelling their wedding was impossible. Her father would never allow it. Not unless…

Caroline felt the blood rush from her face just then. Though it wasn’t out of fear nor desperation. It was because of the thought that had suddenly crossed her mind. If her father died, what would that mean for her future? Would Longley wish to cease all ties with her? Would he want to marry her anyway only granting her a time of bereavement prior to their marriage? Perhaps giving her enough time to devise a plan on how to get out of it? After all, with her father out of the way, she’d have an easier time. Or…

“And I am no servant girl, sir. I am Miss Caroline Orrington. The daughter of the man you seek to murder.” Caroline’s voice was shaky, laced with fear at divulging such information to the strange man. One she hoped she might be able to strike a bargain with.

Caroline’s eyes went to the blade protruding from the wood of the floor beneath their feet. The knife’s edge glinting and gleaming as the moon’s silver rays struck against it.

“Though my father is forcing me to marry, sir. Against my will. For I do not love the man at all. I hardly know him, sir. Nor do I wish to in any way.” Caroline paused a moment as she brought her pale gaze back up to the hooded man. Her hands went for her dark hair and began to twist and play with the strands, a nervous habit. “Our wedding is in five days, sir. Please, take me away with you to wherever you’ll be going. I cannot stay here, sir.” She dared to take a single step forward, her thin nightdress swishing against her legs as she moved. Her hands remained tangled within her tresses, a clear indication that she had no intentions of going for the knife he’d dropped. “I will not hinder you with your task should you still wish to see it through. Though, I’m afraid my father is more than likely outside overseeing the men at the barn since he’s not here in his bed chambers.”

Swallowing, Caroline tilted her head a little. She was trying her best to read this man’s thoughts as the dark shadows and moonlight played against his features. She hoped he’d take her with him, allow her to escape a fate she had no desire to endure.

“Although, sir, might I ask as to why you wish to kill my father? Is it because he hunts you? Doesn’t understand you?” Caroline licked at her lips. “I know he doesn’t understand me, sir, so I sympathize your plight. I will help you out of here, sir. As his daughter, perhaps I can help you in your current situation?”

Caroline took a step back just then, her hands moving to wrap about her middle. The floor was cold against her bare feet as was the air swirling about them. She felt a rush of adrenaline course through her veins as she waited to see what fate lied in store for her now, for surely it had altered in ways she could only begin to imagine.

 

[As Day Fades]

The moments that came were interesting ones. Thomas regarded her coolly, both listening and watching this young woman as she spoke, standing before him in so little as a nightgown. He watched her face, watching how the slight changes in her features occurred from one sentence to the next. He watched as she made no movement for the knife, even when bidden to. He listened to all she had to say. When she was done he simply breathed, considering his words before forming them.

"I am a terrible human being, Miss Caroline. Your father and his ilk are right in their trying to stop me. In truth, I earnestly hope they succeed eventually, or at the least someone does. It is my greatest wish that I hang at the gallows for the things that I do, and will continue to do until that time." It was soft-spoken, all of it, said with the delicate strength of the morning wind upon an open meadow. "Tell me, would you allow one to die if it meant saving the lives of two others? What about three others? What about eight others, but rather than let the one die, you must kill the first by your own hand, and then do things to the body that rob you of sleep until your skin is as pale as mine? ...What about a thousand? What if, by becoming the Devil himself, you could help entire cities? Maybe more? ...I am a murderer. I will continue to be. I am here to slay your father as to purchase my research much-needed time. The wolves nip at my heels far too closely, you s-"

CRASH.

Thomas' body jumped, knocking his hood back some. Taking his hands from within his robe, he rushed over to the large window, pulling the velvet curtain aside to peer out again. "Enough! We talk too much. The front half of that barn has collapsed. I did not expect to have been bought even this much time...this is borrowed, all of it." His heart raced. As he watched the men outside stirring about the circumference of the flames, like a bonfire portending his death, he wondered how long it would be until they would discover he was not actually there. "If what you say is true then your father is in a position now where I cannot get to him as I had hoped. I am not able to take on so many by myself. Tonight is a failure." The curtain fell back into place. "Leave the knife," he said, kneeling down to grab at the curtain's hem. "He will discover it, and he will know that a wolf nips at his heel also."

With a few heavy tugs he tore through the bottom of the rich dark red velvet, roughly two inches thick and the full length of the left curtain. "We leave. We go now. I will believe what you say for now. If you are earnest about your desire to be freed of this cage, little bird, understand you embrace that freedom as you are now. We have not the time to retrieve money or clothes." Another tug and the length of cloth was separated into two pieces. "These men are charged with ending me upon sight." Thomas stood. Turning, he walked over to stand in front of her, hood still down, his pale features clear in the equally pale moonlight. "Tell me how we would best leave. Tell me, so I may then bind you and bring you along as a true kidnapper would. Once we are away safely I will let you free." Soft blue eyes staring into hers, he added hurriedly, "Tell me. We have no time!"

 

[darkangel76]

Caroline felt her breath catch in her throat. Things were happening so quickly, faster than she’d anticipated. Then again, she hadn’t expected this strange, pale man to accept her offers either. It was a surprise to be sure, though a welcome one. One she’d embrace forever provided they both made it out unscathed. And they would. She’d see to that.

The entire plot, it was madness! Caroline knew this, but a part of her was willing to accept that. Getting away from an unwanted marriage, a father who would as soon force her into a life of despair as he would kill this man standing before her. As her thoughts flit over everything unfolding before her in the darkness of her father’s bed chambers, it seemed a worthy price to pay. Yes, worth it in every facet.

No regrets. No regrets.

“Sir, we can take the back staircase. It leads through the servants’ quarters. Presently only our maid and cook should be sleeping there.” Caroline tilted her head as she watched the man ready the torn velvet. She swallowed, her eyes fixed on the lavish material that soon would be binding her wrists. “They will not be a threat should they wake. If we travel through any of the other entrances to the estate, we will be presented with hindrances of our escape.”

Caroline bit down on her lip as another shiver crawled along her spine. The night air was cold. She’d have nothing after this. Just this man who’d claimed to be a murderer. Who wanted her father dead. Shaking her head, she blinked. No. It didn’t matter. He was her only chance out of her unfortunate circumstance and she would be damned if she didn’t seize the opportunity. The rest, she’d worry about it later, when they had more time to better discuss things. Would he let her discuss things?

Did it matter?

No.

“My father has men posted at the doors and we have a small room in which our manservant resides, though it’s too near the main door. He will hear. And he will alert the household, my father. The others.” Caroline felt her hands begin to shake. This was happening. She’d soon be leaving. “Here,” she then said, turning around and placing her hands behind her back. She presented herself to this man so that he could bind her easily, in the way in which he wished. “Hurry. With the men outside preoccupied with the barn, we should go now.” Inhaling deeply, she held the breath a moment before releasing it. “When we leave this room, the back staircase is to the left. You will travel down two stories before reaching ground. Then, take a right though the servants’ quarters.” Trembling more, she added, “Though try to be quiet so as not to alert the maid or cook. Their rooms will be off to the right of where we will be going. But…” her voice trailed. “I do not wish to involve them if it isn’t necessary.”

Caroline kept her back turned to the man as she waited for him to do what was needed. Soon they’d be free, with only the blanket of night to protect them. She wondered where they’d go, where he’d take her. She’d have nothing. No clothes, no luxuries. But oh, it would be worth it to not have to marry Lord Benjamin Longley.

 

[As Day Fades]

He listened as she explained the whole of it, committing it as best to memory as a man in haste could. "I am a murderer, as I have said," Thomas began, staring coolly into her eyes. "But, if there is a saving grace, it is that I only end bad people, or the people that I must. Do not worry," as he stepped around to come behind her, "we will be as quiet as we can, and your servants shall live, should they not try to stop us." Who here was in more astonishment, he wondered. This young woman seemed too obvious to actually be a trap. With what he knew of her father, specifically her father's yearn for control, it took little to believe his own daughter would be traded off to some other powerful lord, probably less hesitantly than most families who did so were. She seemed so obvious that, as the irony of it were, he believed everything of what she said, enough that he would be entrusting his life to the route she spoke. "Any that would get in our way, though, shall have to be dealt with. Please be prepared for that."

As he spoke Thomas secured the soft red velvet around Caroline's wrists, following it up by a pair of quick tugs to ensure it was tight. "Be ready to walk ahead of me. And to walk fast." The second cloth came up around her face, his hands on either side of her head. "I will release you once we are a safe distance away. Until then, stay no more than a full step in front of me." The cloth pushed into her mouth. Just as with her wrists, Thomas spared no amount of force in tying her bond tight, uncomfortably so. Gags and binds were things of restraint, not of comfort. "If you try to run at any point before that," he whispered, leaning in beside Caroline's left ear, "you will put me in a position where I must chase you down and end you. ...Please, it would be such a waste."

Punctuating their newfound position as kidnapper and hostage, one hand gripped into Caroline's hair, jerking her head back, forcing her chin up, throat out. The other gripped harshly into her left wrist, with a sharply whispered, "Get moving," right at her ear. Thomas ushered her through the bedroom door, out of her father's room. Toward a new life.

Left came first, he immediately urging her down a large, wide staircase as they turned from the hall. Every step was hurried. Every step had him holding her head an at uncomfortable angle, holding her tight by the hair, while his other hand held at Caroline's wrist, equally shoving her forward and keeping her steady as they descended. "I have no horse," he whispered hastily, arriving at the bottom step. They were on the second floor now. Thomas paused their joint steps to peer over the second floor balcony, to the foyer. It was here he remembered himself, letting go of Caroline's hair a moment to grab the hood that had fallen about his shoulders, quickly bringing it back up. Ironically, in his haste, it took the nervous man an extra second to do so. "Once we taste air we will have to run." He gripped into her hair again and pressed her forward, returning to the hurried pace as they began down the second set of wide, beautifully kept oak stairs. "Be prepared."

Once they reached the bottom step, stepping onto the first floor, the dark robed man jerked to a halt again. Again he looked to the front double doors, and as she had said, he could see two men posted just outside their front, through the beveled glass of the doors' windows. He began their movements again, turning both himself and her to the servants' quarters as she had said. If the pair made a sound as they moved it was nothing above a pair of footsteps, his own soles light and thus quiet, and she without shoes at all. Should she grunt, or make any other noise, it would be muffled by her gag. As for himself, Thomas said nothing above a whisper. If her house's servants had not been roused from their rooms by the sounds of the barn, then surely the two of them would not be the ca-

As they turned the corridor Thomas' blue eyes went wide beneath his hood. His lungs hitched. His heart skipped a beat. At the far end of the hallway was a door, which he hoped by this woman's description to be an exit, but on the left, right before it, was an open door. There were several other doors, one on the left, two on the right, but all of them closed. They couldn't stop. Couldn't stop now. "Keep moving," he whispered hastily. No other way out, was there? They kept moving.

Four steps before they reached that ominous, open door Thomas removed both hands from his hostage's body, allowing her to move on her own. He reached them into his robe, readying himself...readying, grabbing for something...then, as he stepped in front of that open doorway, his entire body found pause. Thomas blinked. Beneath the cover of his hood he just stared about. ...An empty bedroom. His entire body, his shoulders, his arms, it all seemed to share in the feeling of relief. But that relief was premature; there was still an escape to be had. His hands removed from the inside of his robe as bare as when they'd slipped in. Thomas took the few final steps to that back door, turning the knob and swinging it open. "It is a cold night," he said, feeling the chill of the slight wind on his face the moment the door swung open, "and at no point will we be going down some smooth road. ...Are you ready?" Whether she was or was not, a firm hand gripped her by the left shoulder anyway, shoving her forward, out into the night.

"Run," he snapped, as urgently as a whisper ever could. The door was pulled closed behind them. With each new step to come, the manor would become that much more a thing of the past.

 

[darkangel76]

Caroline knew what she’d requested of this man was at best mad, at worst… suicide. But such were her the choices set before her. She wouldn’t turn back now, wouldn’t regret. No. She had to do this, was meant to and now she’d see it through to whatever end that might be. Being two and twenty, she was a grown woman now. Capable of making her own decisions. This was one of those and probably the biggest one ever set before her.

The feel of the lush velvet as the robed man bound her hands was not nearly as soft as she’d thought it would be. No. This man wasn’t about to spare her there, show her mercy. Caroline supposed she could understand that. After all, his life was on the line here. Literally. For her, it was her future. Though similar, at least for her own resulted in her heart continuing to beat, her lungs continuing to rise and fall. At that, another strip of velvet came around her head, pushing its way past her pink lips and into the warm wetness of her mouth.

Just then, Caroline let out a tiny groan, though most of the sound had been muffled by the velvet within her mouth, as she felt strong hands tug at her thick, dark hair. No mercy. None. The man was taking her hostage, even if she was going willingly. She was his now, her fate in his hands. Of course, this was all part of the plan. Wasn’t it? Starting to tremble, her blue eyes wide, she shook her head as he whispered against her ear.

Without further hesitation, Caroline did as told. She began to move, letting this man holding onto her tightly lead the way even though she stood in front of him. She was glad that no one was about to witness the scene. None of them would’ve been spared. She was sure of it. The way this man held onto her, the way he pulled at her hair, had bound her. She honestly started to wonder if she’d make it out into the night air alive.

The rest of their journey through the estate, down the staircase, along the corridors and through the servants’ quarters had been all but a blur. Caroline’s heart had been pounding beneath her breast, her feet so cold as they padded quickly along the unforgiving hardness and cold of the wood. Finally, she saw the exit just up ahead. So close, nearly there. But, her captor had paused. She could feel his anxiety and wondered what might be wrong, who could be there… No. No one was up or about. The halls were black as pitch, not a single sound could be heard save the two of them as they slowly and quietly approached the door.

Nearly there.

Finally, the man urged Caroline forward and the two reached the door. The one that would lead to freedom and a future unknown. He pushed open the door and immediately, she felt a chilling blast of night air kiss her skin. Her body immediately began to react, shaking and trembling as the air seeped through the flimsy material of the nightdress she wore. Her skin broke out into gooseflesh and a tiny jolting shiver made her body jump ever so slightly. She tried to glance over her shoulder, but wasn’t given the chance. For at that moment, she was pushed outside, her feet striking cold earth as the dampness of night enshrouded her entirely.

“Run,” came the man’s voice. Caroline heard it so clearly. So plainly.

Not allowing her mind to think, Caroline just did as commanded. She ran. She knew the barn was across the way on the other side of the estate. The men would be preoccupied with the fire, the collapse. They’d have much to clean and contain. Knowing that they’d make it, she ran toward the woods bordering the lands. Once under the cover of trees, out of the harsh silvery rays of the moonlight, she’d be able to speak to her captor.

Caroline felt a fear wash over her as she ran toward those trees. She’d have no where to go, no one to turn to. She was on her own now. Oh what had she done? In her desperation to get away from a fate worse than death she hadn’t thought about what would happen if she’d managed to get away. Would this man help her? After all, she’d helped him escape. Maybe they could arrange some sort of bargain? He seemed reasonable enough for a murderer. Then, he claimed he only killed those deserving. Oh, she’d risk it. So far, he’d given her no cause to distrust him. She’d have to hope. She’d have to try. She’d have to ask him if she could stay with him wherever that might be.

Finally, Caroline stopped running. She all but collapsed against a nearby tree. Her lungs were on fire, her body so cold. As she tried to breathe, to gain her breath, she looked at the man now holding her hostage. Her eyes pleaded with him. Letting him know that she needed to speak with him, that she was scared, worried. But her question would have to wait. To wait until he removed the gag that stifled her speech, that prevented her from speaking about the fears that were trying to consume her as they stood there under the cover of the trees in the night.

 

[As Day Fades]

It was a mad dash that took them across the field, toward the treeline at the end of the estate. Every charged step had Thomas' chest pounding with anticipation. His mind screamed at him, screamed to look back, to just glance over his shoulder, to glance quickly. He heard something. He could've sworn he heard something. Had he heard something? Oh, God, how his heart beat. He could hear shouts from the other side still, overpowering the silence of the night. In front of him ran a pretty young maiden, her thin nightgown shining with the moonlight. For the life of him, he simply ran.

The absolute moment his body broke through the treeline Thomas turned on a heel, spinning around, dropping down to a crouch while his hands came up to grasp the trunk of a nearby tree. He peered out back to the manor and to the field they'd just ran. It was silent. He could see the smoke in the air, he could still hear shouting faint in the distance now, but there was no one following them. Had anyone seen? No one was following... Taking a breath, he turned and set off after Caroline, giving haste to catch up with the woman.

They ran for awhile, the two of them, until it seemed she could run no longer. He caught up in time to see her slumped against a tree. "Come," he said, feet padding to a harsh stop from his run. Thomas was panting heavily by the time he reached her side, grabbing her by the arm, trying to lift Caroline back up to a stand. "We are not yet safe. Not for some hours yet, still." But as he tugged he could see how tired she was, practically collapsed there. Thomas looked down to her from beneath the hood. Sighing, he knelt down while reaching up to pull back his hood, letting the cool air hit the entirety of his face.

"You did me a great service in there Miss Caroline. Thank you for that." His hands grabbed at the velvet restraint around her wrists. "As such, I have seen you out as well. They will find you missing and, within the week, presume by then that I have killed you." The soft cloth came loose. Thomas quickly tucked it into the inside of his robe as he stood. "Thank you for your help." Still breathing heavy with every word, he continued, "Go now. Live life as freely as you wish it. I wish you good luck." He gave her a light, friendly clasp on the shoulder, followed by a nod. Then Thomas turned from her, taking a breath, starting up into a jog.

 

[darkangel76]

They ran for a while before finally stopping, Caroline slumped against a tree as she tried her best to breathe. The gag made it harder as her saliva pooled against the material. The air was cold and damp, forcing her lungs to work harder than if the weather had been a bit more pleasant. Oh, she was ready to collapse. She could go no further. Not, at least, until she was able to rest a little.

As Caroline leaned against the tree, she noticed her captor had stopped with her. He too was catching his breath. Suddenly, he looked over at her, his hood back and eyes locked to hers. As she peered into his eyes, she felt a strange connection. One she couldn’t begin to explain. In that moment, she knew they were one in the same, not so different as it might appear on the outside. Suddenly, a surge of adrenaline flowed through her blood. Her body tingling with awareness at the peculiar bond she felt with this man she’d just helped. This… murderer.

Finally, the man opened his mouth and began to speak as he freed Caroline from the bonds. As he spoke, she felt her heart stop, her lungs ceasing to function. Her voice was totally lost as he stated his thanks and told her that she was free to go. But where to go? That was the question and she had no answer. There was no one she could turn to. Not a soul. All would send her home, fetch her father, bring her to… Lord Benjamin Longley. All unacceptable. Oh, what had she done? What had she been thinking?

Just then, Caroline felt her cool blue eyes prickle and sting. Tears were welling up within and threatening to spill along her pale cheeks. Terror and panic were starting to consume her, swallowing her whole as it caressed her flesh with malicious intent. At that, her teeth began to chatter while her body shook violently. She had no where to go. Nothing on her person. She hadn’t been raised to fend for herself. She was a lady of status and station. Now, she had nothing.

Furiously, Caroline wiped at the tears that finally began to fall. Shaking with silent sobs, her mind began to swirl with desperation. The man had said they’d think her dead within the week. That he’d have killed her. Perhaps…

“Sir, wait! Wait!” Caroline called out. Despite the burn in her lungs, the ache of her body, she ran after the man who’d only moments ago whisked her away from her estate, the future she wished to leave behind and forget. “Please, don’t leave me here, sir. I… I’ve nowhere to go. I…” She lost it in that dreadful moment, the one where she’d realized just how much she’d altered her life in that decision she’d made in her father’s bed chamber. As she caught up to the robed man, she felt her cheeks flush and it wasn’t from the exertion of her run. No. It was a mix of fear, embarrassment, admission that she’d traversed a path she hadn’t anticipated. “Please, sir. Again, I ask… I beg… of you. Please, take me with you.”

Caroline had all she could do to refrain from bring her hands to her face. She could feel her hot tears streaming along her cheeks. But she couldn’t move now. She wouldn’t. If she did, she would break, she’d lose her resolve. No. She couldn’t afford to do that now. Not when her life, her future was at stake. Oh, she hoped this man would help her further. Would he dare?

“If you do, sir, I will help you however I’m able. I will owe you that much if you will take it upon yourself to look after me. Please, sir.” Caroline’s eyes found the man’s once more despite the darkness surrounding them. Peering hard into his eyes, searching for his soul, she whispered, “Please, sir. Please, look after me.”

 

[As Day Fades]

Sir, wait. Sir. Wait. Thomas stopped. His face firmed; part of him, a large part, wanted to swirl around and snap at the woman for her volume. Calling to him! Now, as they made their escape! Normal voices were more than fine. Granted, it was likely they were too far for anyone to pick up on even shouting now, but just in case. Just in case. Search parties were not some unheard of thing.

But she continued on. He stopped, and when he turned, seeing the quiet tears painting those soft, feminine cheeks, Thomas' entire body relaxed beneath the robe. His face returned to a cool, calm composure. He regarded her silently while she sobbed, paying attention to both Caroline's words and to how she said them. When she was finally done, his response was a simple one.

"No."

Thomas' light blue eyes fixated on her face, specifically on her own soft orbs. His tone he spoke with was gentle, even if the words were unerringly firm, "I understand the severity of what it is you request. You do not, Miss Caroline. ...To come with me is to be accomplice to me, and in time, inevitably recognized as such. And I could not entrust where I stay or how I get there to anyone who is not brimming with resolve as to my cause. You know so little of me, dear one. What is the worst you have achieved in the ivory tower of your birth? Stolen dessert before supper? Ridden your father's horse instead of your own? When I say that I am a murderer, I say that only as an introduction as to the sins I commit. They grow more terrible from there." Pausing for a breath, he continued that gaze right into her eyes, his steely cool expression somehow managing to be both firm and soft at the same time, "To follow me is to abandon the light, it is to strut through the gates of Hell with a swagger in your step. It is to damn your soul eternally, in hope of what you might achieve before your earthly body finds its end - and that end is ensured to you, with the only questions being how soon, and how painful. Tied and set aflame, claimed to be a witch. Hanging by the gallows, or a trip to the guillotine's basket. Torn apart by horses, or the tried and true method of simply being hit with rocks by a swarm of peasants until your body twitches in response no longer."

"Vivisection," he continued after a moment, "reanimation, murder, heresy, human experimentation... I have killed children. I have killed young women, very much like you, and I have killed men of all ages. Why? For this," as a hand reached into a deep side pocket of the robe, pulling forth a small vial of light green liquid. "It is still far from incomplete. Weeks...decades. It is possible I might not even reach the end of my research in this lifetime. I am trying to cure death itself, Miss Caroline, and there are days where I feel tantalizingly close," those last words spoken with a soft, sad sort of excitement. His fingers enclosed around the vial. "This research requires terrible acts, but by killing handfuls of people, of bad people, of only hurting the bad ones, I can do some sort of good. They call it the devil's work, but here! This!" The enclosed palm raised slightly. "Here are results! If I know sleep one out of every three haunted nights, then that is a good week, but this, this right here...I cannot cure those who are already dead, or whose bodies are plagued with ailment, not yet. But this concoction I've developed," he said excitedly, his face bright now with a smile, "it temporarily increases the body's natural regeneration a thousand fold. Maybe ten thousand? Maybe fifty. It will close any recent wound, potentially saving the life of the injured who drinks it. In time, maybe I can cure sicknesses. In time, maybe even resurrect the dead... But, for now, I am a murderer, sought fervently for my gruesome, bloody, gore-filled experiments. And even were I to succeed, I believe my soul would still have a place waiting for it in Hell, as would any who chose to knowingly aid me."

"That is not quite everything, but it is most...so now you know why they call me 'necromancer.'"

Thomas reached his free hand into his robe. A short, slender blade shimmered with what moonlight peeked through the trees as he pulled it forth, the very sight of the weapon holding a regal sort of bearing. Two feet in length from tip to end, perfectly polished, Thomas tossed the cross-hilted short sword to her feet, its tip easily embedding some into the dirt. "This is to be yours. It is my gift to you, and you may do with it as you wish, though if I may, I would like to offer two possible suggestions." His hands tucked into his robe. With a face that seemed unerringly calm he continued looking to hers, all this time. "Consider the things I have said, and the choice you have before you. What road do you take, Miss Caroline? Will you swear an oath to me, all official-like? Speak your name and abandon your last, just as I did when I set out on this all, estranging yourself from your family and all that you know? Will you willingly become some heretic witch to the people and condemn yourself to Hell? I can do this without you. You do not need to traverse this path if it terrifies you. But, if you still wish to, after hearing all that I have said," Thomas pausing to take in a slow breath through his nose, "then make your oath, and take to your knees before me. Then, take your life. Your throat. Your heart. Your abdomen. Whatever you have the courage for, if you indeed have courage enough to walk this dark path without looking back. ...If you do not, then simply keep the weapon. It is a gift, as I have said. It is also pure silver, which should sell for roughly thirty gold. That is enough to clothe yourself, supply yourself, buy yourself a horse and probably manage a month or two of food and lodging. There's a new life waiting in that blade, little one. Two new lives. But, you can only have one."

 

[darkangel76]

Caroline’s watery gaze turned wider and wider as the man before her spoke. His words were dark, terrifying. But to go back…? No. She couldn’t do that. It wasn’t an option. Not now when she was so close to leaving it all behind, a distant memory. She could never face her father now nor could she marry Lord Benjamin Longley. She’d rather die than be forced to live such a life. But to live on her own? Oh, she needed someone to care for her. She knew as much. As a lady of station and nobility, she wasn’t groomed for such living. No. She needed proper care and attention and…

Just then, Caroline felt more tears spill from her pale eyes only to roll down her cheeks. Her tears were a stark contrast to her porcelain skin as the harsh moonlight shone down from above and through the trees that acted as a natural canopy. The lighting made her appear ethereal, almost angelic. So ironic given the thoughts that were now running through her frenzied mind given the choices set before her.

As Caroline stood there fidgeting, her hands finding her dark tresses and twisting at them nervously, her thoughts began to race wildly. Her icy eyes moved to look at the blade, its edge so sharp as it flashed against the silvery strands of moonlight. Her mind was frantic now. Racing in time with her beating heart. So frightened and unsure, yet knowing what she had to do.

Caroline swallowed just then, her slim body shifting from foot to foot as she contemplated what to do. Time was of the essence. But what to do? She looked again at the man, this necromancer, standing before her. His face full of cold expression as he waited for her to do or say something. She then looked at his closed fist recalling the contents within the vial he held. It was a mysterious liquid to be sure, one that could cure, could save. How could that be bad?

But he was a murderer! He’d killed several, would kill more. Would he kill her? Caroline blinked several times. No. He wouldn’t. Somehow she knew this. The oath would ensure it. Besides, his research, his work. It was for the betterment of many. Was it not a worthy price to pay to lose one soul so as to save several? Biting down on her lip, reddened by the chill in the air, she decided that it was.

Caroline averted her eyes just then at the thought that had just crossed her mind. Who was she to cast such judgments? She was a woman, one who knew nothing of the world outside of her home. She was a sheltered and silly girl, a girl longing for a fanciful life that didn’t exist. Could never exist. Could it? Again, her thoughts began to drift, to wander.

Finally, Caroline took a step forward, her face pleading with the man standing before her. Licking her lips, she knelt down on the cold earth below, her body shivering, looking so small as she adjusted herself. She then picked up the blade, her eyes fixed on the necromancer looming above. He wanted her to kill herself, to take her life, spill her blood. She gulped and then winced at the thought. If she were to die, then how… She shook her head in fear, her tears coming faster as she contemplated what she must do. Looking into his eyes, searching for an answer, something, she suddenly realized that he was asking for her trust, not just devotion to keeping his secrets, helping him with his tasks. No. There was a deeper meaning.

Caroline raised the blade up a bit, her hands small as she gripped the handle with both of them. Taking a deep breath, she looked down, her breasts heaving as fear and panic began to set in.

She had to do it. She had to. It was her only chance, her only hope.

“Let this be my oath to you,” Caroline then whispered, her voice so soft and shaky.

At that, Caroline plunged the knife deeply against her chest, just above her breasts, which only slightly peeked out from the neckline of the nightdress she wore. Her blood was so dark, looking black in the light of the moon. It covered her completely, yet she refused to shout out. No. She wouldn’t scream. She couldn’t. The men at the barn were far away, but a scream would certainly alert them. As she bled, the pain so sharp and strong, she felt her eyes beginning to roll. She tried to focus on the face of the necromancer, but he was becoming blurred, dark, a shadowy memory…

Just then, Caroline felt her body turn cold and she collapsed against the hard ground of the woods. Giving in to the pain, the chill, everything suddenly went dark.

 

[As Day Fades]

Should he be shocked? Thomas wondered this silently to himself, watching Caroline embed the silver blade into her own chest, giving out nothing more than a physical show of twitching without the slightest sound attached to the act. Should he? Here she bled, her blood dark, furthered by the darkness of the night, and all he could do was look her in the eyes, regarding her coolly as it poured out generously upon her bosom. He had been surprised enough that she offered her aid to him in the manor. At this point perhaps the surprise should be no more. She was unique, that much was certain. While most would have hesitated, questioned, or even flatly refused, she understood the request of trust. To come with him would mean Thomas making himself absolutely vulnerable to a person he did not yet know; if there were another way to build such an important bond between them within such a scarce window of time, he knew nothing of it.

"Very brave," he finally spoke, though at this point the girl was laying in the grass at his feet. Thomas knelt, the dark wool robe pooling around him. "Caroline, was it? A foolishly swift trust to be sure, but in my position I am certainly able to appreciate your desperation." A hand reached to smooth over the young woman's hair, guiding back some strands, lightly caressing others. His head tilted some, looking her over. "I suppose you are to make fools of us both, then."

The hand rescinded. "Can you still hear me?" He held the vial forward. Thomas unplugged the small wooden stopper at its top, immediately letting forth a pungent, unappealing aroma. "It smells better than it tastes," he assured her, his pale face cracking into a smirk. "You must swallow it all. I did not bring extra - spit it out and you die." He pressed it to her lips, upturning the vial's end. Once he had her drinking Thomas snatched her smaller, feminine wrist, bringing it up to the vial, wordlessly urging her to take hold. "Not a drop," he sternly reminded, releasing his touch to then wrap a palm around the gilded silver hilt of the blade. It wouldn't do to have her wound heal with this thing still within her. Placing his other hand on her shoulder, taking a breath and wincing his eyes, as if it were he himself taking a wound, the man's grip jerked the blade backward and free, retrieving it from her chest; rarely was an oath writ in such blood.

 

[darkangel76]

Darkness surrounded Caroline. Surely the angel of death had come for her, ready to bring her to the other side and away from the pains of a human existence. Pain. So much pain. Just then, she winced, her eyes fluttering open for a brief moment as her mind began to register what had just happened.

The knife.

Caroline remembered the knife, that cold hard blade she'd plunged into her chest. Had she struck her heart? Her intent had been to do so, but given that she still lived, still breathed, she knew she'd missed her intended target. Nearly lifeless, her ears suddenly began to hear the muffled whisper of a familiar voice. Or was it familiar? Things were confusing, so muddled and difficult to discern.

Suddenly, Caroline felt a warm hand take a firm hold of her wrist. What was going on? Just then a strange and pungent smell, one that made her stomach tighten involuntarily despite how close to death she was, began to settle within her nose. She wanted to wretch, but she hadn't the strength, so without knowing how or why, her lips suddenly wrapped themselves about a cool, smooth vial. The liquid burned as it dripped down her throat. The taste was that of rancid flesh, or what she'd assume rancid flesh would taste like. And oh, it was far worse than its odor as it wafted into her nostrils. Lingering within her nose and making her body twitch slightly.

Thomas. It was Thomas telling her to drink. Caroline tried to flutter her eyes, but it was of no use. Instead, she just drank down the horrible-tasting liquid, each swallow making her body jolt a bit harder. Each swallow... No, she wouldn't waste a drop. She knew she couldn't. It was dire that she consume it all. Sputtering, gagging, she continued to drink down everything filling up her mouth. She would listen to Thomas' whisper. She would obey. And so she drank everything down.

As Caroline continued to drink, she found herself becoming more and more aware of her surroundings, her body. Thomas. She could feel the stickiness of her blood as it coated her body, making her nightdress cling to her form like a second skin. She could feel the knife being removed from her body as the numbness of death that had just started to swallow her whole began to subside. Though, she wouldn't shout out. Not now, not when she'd come so far.

The barn.

Those men, her father, they were still at the barn no doubt. All of them thinking that they'd cornered the necromancer. No, he was more than that. He was Thomas. Caroline's mind was reeling, so many images running through her mind. Finally, she was able to control her eyes, shifting them so that she could finally fix her gaze upon that of the man looking down upon her as she finished up the contents within the vial.

"All..." Caroline whispered, her voice hoarse to her ears. "I drank it all." She reached her other hand up and gently placed it upon Thomas' arm, her grip weak despite the fact that her body was healing, growing stronger.

Caroline could feel her breaths starting to come easier, her eyes still locked upon Thomas'. Her insides were burning, she felt as though she were aflame, burning at the stake. Perhaps she deserved that given the witchery she'd succumbed to so willingly.

No.

This wasn't witchery, Caroline decided. This was a miracle. Thomas had saved her, brought her back. Never would she be able to repay him for this amazing defeat of nature. Never would she be able to repay him for taking her away from the life she so desperately wished to escape. Yes, she was forever indebted to him now. The oath had been sealed.

"Wherever you go now," Caroline rasped. "I will follow."