Page 19 of Fragile Wicked Things

"Didn't Thomas teach you to waltz?" I shook my head.

"Then what did he...Never mind. Face me.

" Rochester placed his right hand on my waist, circling around my back and extended his left to his side, elbow bent, palm facing out.

We grasped hands. "Now put your left hand on my right shoulder.

Follow my lead, except do the opposite."

Well, that was clear.

Rochester stepped forward, but I moved back too late. He slid his left foot until his feet were together, then stepped back, as I moved forward. We danced to the music as it rose and fell, our bodies moving to its beat around the dance floor. Each time I looked down at our feet, I would stumble.

"Don't look down. Follow me. Feel me, Jane."

I leaned into him and let him guide me, let myself go, and gave myself to him. Dancers spun around, their movements blurred in the background behind him while I stared deep into his eyes, under his spell.

A door flung open. We glided past onto the wraparound stone verandah, the cold hit me at first, then subsided.

Rochester spun me, faster and faster, traveling the length of the porch, past windows and doors, around corners.

I tilted my head back which gave me the sensation of free-falling.

The scotch affected me for nothing seemed right—the background moved at an inhumanly quick pace.

I no longer felt the ground, a cold breeze swept beneath my feet.

Rochester spun me faster still. I felt confused and the sheer sensation made me dizzy.

Something was not right, but as quickly as we had found ourselves outside, we were back inside, in a different room devoid of people.

He held me tight, lowered me onto the sofa until I felt my head rest on a pillow and I waited for the scenery to stop spinning. Rochester leaned close to me.

"Edward," I whispered.

"Catherine." His body moved in a continual motion towards me, but I flung my hand up to his chest to stop him.

"I'm Jane."

* * *

"Mr. Rochester!" Auntie screamed, running towards our car, a ghostly image of her plump body caught by the illumination of the headlights.

Rochester slammed on the brakes and rushed to Auntie. Moments later, I had caught up.

"Is it Catherine?" Rochester said.

"She’s fine. Thomas is with her. Mizzez said there is a wild beast out here."

"Did Thomas check?"

"No sir, I won’t let my grandbaby come out here. There’s an awful sound coming from the stables. Something got in there with the horses, Mr. Rochester."

We stared at the stable in silence, the pounding of my heart drowned out all other sounds.

Rochester turned to me and lifted his finger to his lips, indicating silence.

Nothing stirred inside, and I believed whatever had been there earlier, must have escaped, but then the hysterical neighing of the horses broke through the silence.

Mixed in with their cries lay something else, something deeper, louder, hungrier.

"Jane, take Auntie inside," Rochester said.

Auntie stepped ahead of me, steering towards the house, and when I looked back to Rochester, I saw him rush to the stable. The house door flung open, and there stood Thomas with a rifle in his hand.

"Get inside," he said and hurried towards the stable.

"Thomas, get back," Auntie pleaded.

I struggled to force her inside, but she fought me off and flung me aside.

Thomas ignored her pleas and headed off, gun aimed towards the stables, while I set off after Auntie, but I remained helpless against her.

Then, she stopped fighting and stood still.

It went quiet again. Rochester and Thomas also stopped, and I could see Thomas lowering the gun.

In an instant, a veil of fog drifted in and covered the grounds turning everything we could see only moments before into shapes and shadows and, eventually, obscured our view of the men. Auntie became agitated.

A shriek sounded from the stables, then another and another until it grew into a monstrous growl.

Did the creature that lurked in the center of the maze escape?

As unexpected as the horrifying sounds began, they ended suddenly.

Auntie and I stepped forward until we were on the driveway in front of the car. Its headlights shone through the mist.

"My boy!" Auntie called out.

We saw nothing in the thick fog.

"Stay here," I said.

After letting go of Auntie, I went into the fog, each step forward slower than the last. I turned back to Auntie, but she disappeared.

A heavy fog surrounded me, obscuring all visibility, and my breathing grew rapidly.

Ahead of me, I could make out only shapes and shadows, darting this way and that, moving towards me.

I called out to Rochester and Thomas, but no one answered.

A mist was only water, but a heaviness bore down on me, pressing on my shoulders, and I felt long, bony fingers around my neck, squeezing me.

I struggled against it; a claw scratched me, and I let out a scream.

My cries were drowned out by demoniac laughter—low, suppressed, deep and uttered next to me.

With the mist now more intense, nothing appeared near me that I could see, but I felt it there in the fog with me.

A beast ran past me, its hooves pounded the ground with such force that it knocked down the creature next to me. Auntie screamed. Then something thumped.

"Auntie! Auntie! Are you all right?" I said.

No answer. I ran back in the direction I had come from; the headlights gleaming through the mist. Auntie lay on the ground, a horrible gash to her neck, blood gushing out. Rochester's horse stood next to her. Auntie moaned.

"Edward! Thomas! It came out here. Auntie's hurt."

I rested her head on my lap and tore fabric from my skirt, pressing it against her neck wound. Within moments, it was soaked in blood. Her heartbeat weakened, her breathing short and rapid. Footsteps came towards me and when I looked up, I saw Thomas and Rochester.

"Granny?" Thomas said. His body went limp as he knelt next to her.

Rochester shoved me aside, pulled off his bow tie and held it against Auntie's neck to stop the bleeding. "Jane, run inside, lock the door and call for an ambulance. Then stay with Catherine," Rochester said.

By the time I had finished placing the emergency phone call and ran upstairs, I found Catherine sitting in the dark by the window, her hand pressed against the glass.

"I was right to worry about the beast. Did you see it?"

"No, not directly. The creature attacked us. Maybe it was a wolf."

"A wolf? Are you sure? The grounds are inhabited by ghosts—Rochester's ghosts. He swears his wife and child followed him here and sometimes I see it when I look into his eyes; black, empty."

The simple task of breathing became suddenly difficult, unnatural to me somehow.

Rochester had a wife and child who were taken from him.

Everything about him had been realized—the darkness that controlled him, his unhappiness and his combative behavior toward me.

Catherine brought me here, and forced us together, in the hope that I could make him forget, or at least bring some happiness into his miserable life.

Who was I to do such a thing when happiness escaped me always?

"They torture him," Catherine continued, "just as she does.

I used to believe it wasn't true, just his imagination, his guilty conscience for surviving whatever took them away, but then you saw her that night outside your window, the beast with the red hair.

I heard her laughter tonight. She's coming for me, Jane.

She wants what is hers. She crossed an ocean to find him. "

"Whom do you speak of?"

A red light flashed against Catherine's silhouette, and the sound of a siren grew louder. "I've made a terrible mistake. It's not safe for you here, Jane."