Your body felt unbelievably sore.

Your feet were raw from running, caked in dry mud and blood while your arms ached from lifting objects that felt twice your weight. You didn't even want to think about the burning in your legs from all the running, how your muscles seemed like they were wound so tight that they would snap like a violin string.

Then there was your throat...

Every time your brought your hand to the two little puncture wounds, you could only shudder. But you didn't shudder in pain, no, they didn't even hurt. There was no stinging sensation the rippled down your neck when you brushed over them, no gasping and jerking in pain, just two unassuming marks placed delicately on your skin.

No, what made you shudder was the thought of some stranger.... Some monster holding you close, as if you both were intimate. He had gripped your hair so tightly and pulled it back, forcing to expose every inch of your smooth skin while his sharp teeth dug deep into your neck. You had felt his tongue, slithering in circles and leaving the spot wet and red as his lips kneaded your skin.

It was a gesture of intimacy that was saved for married couples, people who loved and adored each other until the end of days, but this.... This action held no love or care, no true emotions that would indicate that this was pure affection; it held only greedy, merciless touches that acted assuring and gentle. They were ulterior motives disguised as fondness, infatuation, even lust. You could never trust this man.

Then he feasted on you. Drained you. Weakened you. Nearly killed you.

You pressed your fingers hard against the wound, body trembling from the memory.

Everything made you want to cry at this point, to scream and break things until you wore yourself out with fearful rage. Then you wished to cower, to run to your room and curl up on your bed with the blankets pulled over until morning. Only holding the jar seemed to keep you sane. You held it, caressed it, and pressed it close to your chest; not caring if you made the man angry for doing such things to it.

He left his deceitful signature on your neck, so you were going to pet his damn heart.

It wasn't until you saw the first few rays of sunlight did you decide it was time to leave the chapel. You cleared away the debris from the door the best you could, pushing at church pews and heavy, chunks of ceiling off to the side while your hands grew more and more ragged. You would have to wear gloves for a while before they went back to their usual softness, but... Well, look at that, you were actually worried about how soft your hands were going to be after this. The softness of your hands.

You placed the back of your palm against your eyes and let out a brittle laugh, lower lip trembling as fresh tears spilled from your eyes.

It was kind of funny. Perhaps you'll worry about if the cuts and bruises will leave your body by the time you went back into society. Maybe your future husband won't notice how much wider your eyes were from the constant fright this horrible castle seemed to throw at you.

"Oh, _______! How did you ever achieve such a doe-eyed look before?! I must know your secret~!"

You waved your hand at the faceless woman, giggling behind your frilly glove. "It's quite easy. One just endures countless monstrosities and ghosts thrown at them for a few weeks. It's a popular technique that is even catching on in Paris."
"Fascinating!"

You laughed again, feeling more off-kilter then ever before. Who knows, maybe people will like the new, sarcastic you.

If you survived all this.

Once the door was clear did you finally feel the growing fear and worry. What if Abigail was still out there? What if the demon hadn't gotten rid of her at all? What if she was lying in wait, rotting fingers curled readily to snatch at your ankles, your legs, arms, or neck? She would dig her yellow nails down hard and make you bleed, hold her decrepit face close as her rancid breath washed over you before she would find the most horrible way to kill you.

You rested your head against the door and closed your eyes. You felt so drained and your body pleaded with you to lay in a wondrous, comfy bed. It berated you with sore muscles and aching limbs from lying on the stone floor for who knows how long, rocks digging into your back while your skin felt damp from cold rainwater. It was a possibility you were going to get sick if you stayed out here much longer and the last thing you wanted was to be even more vulnerable in this wretched place.

Plus, there was Marguerite. She would fret over you for countless days until you were healthy, then worry and coddle while you try to avoid the inevitable conversation of the bite mark placed so elegantly on your neck. You couldn't tell her what had happened, just imagine her frozen, wide-eye gaze as you described a strange man suckling so sweetly at your skin then disappearing into the night.

Staying in this chapel wasn't an option. You had to leave.

So, with all the courage you could muster, you pulled hard at the metal knob and opened the door. And there you saw her.

Abigail's dead, eyeless sockets staring up at you while her crumpled body lay twisted on the ground. Her decaying corpse laid downwards with her arms folded awkwardly over her chest, her flesh now black and wet hung from her bones while her legs were spread out before her. She had no glorious hair left, only strands of shriveled grey and white shedding onto the floor. Then you realized the creature's head was twisted all the way around, staring upside down at you with her mouth open wide as if she had no tendons to keep her jaw shut. A black substance oozed from her lips and dribbled down her face and formed a dark pool beneath her.

You recoiled, waiting for her to crawl towards you; for her chest to heave and her mouth gurgle out slime before she wailed and demanded the man's heart. Then the stench hit you, a wave of rotten pungent that destroyed your sense of smell and almost made you retch until your stomach was completely empty.

The body didn't so much as flinch. She just continued to gaze up at you from her spot in front of the door as you bent over a few feet away in case you really did puke.

Disgusting.

It took you a little longer then you wished to recoup, unable to keep the nausea from swelling in your stomach to your chest with each look at Abigail and her putrid-smelling body. Once you could ignore the foul smell did you start forward again, body trembling as you had to step over the creature's form. She blocked a bit of the doorway, her decaying self making it hard to even step out without knocking your bare foot into her oozing chest or make her head twist even more on her loose neck. When you finally made it over her form and out into the courtyard did you want to dig your eyes out, never wanting to witness such a sight in your life ever again.

But you couldn't stop looking at her. Your eyes refused to tear away from her pitiful mess of a body, watching her corpse continue to drip with rain and black globs of liquid. You wondered if she really had been all that beautiful, how long it had taken her skin to sag and her flesh to rot before her beauty was completely gone and all that was leftover was decomposing meat.

You don't know how long you stood there, safely out of the chapel, but still lingering in morbid fascination.

You've seen millions of mummies, wrapped and unwrapped - how their skin was dry and shriveled like jerky, their teeth brittle and crooked in their mouths while their faces were all but unrecognizable. But this woman was no mummy you've ever seen, she was in a state of decay, her flesh clinging to her bones for dear life while her muscles still had some of their healthy weight.

Bodies usually took eight to twelve years to fully decompose, but this one was still so...fresh. Too fresh for someone from almost eighty years ago. Something had preserved her, ready to use her for some strange purpose that was beyond your realm of imagination.

What else was this creature for besides scaring helpless females out of bed?

More rays of sun seemed to gather in the courtyard, this part of the castle facing east and getting first choice of warmth. The light seemed to approach faster then you realized, it's yellow glow looking like it was sent from the very heavens as it reached your end of the garden. You felt the dazzling light and basked in the warmth, feeling the sun's rays stroke your skin and slowly dry some of the damp rain that clung to your clothes. It was like greeting a dear friend, a pleasant hug from the sun who seemed to pity your situation.

It made everything dissolve in your mind. You were relaxed, calm, and at peace. Only the sun could make you feel alive again.

Abigail's body twitched, the movement startling you out of your daze and making you step back quickly. You clutched the jar close to you as you waited with wide eyes for something to happen. Then you saw steam rise from her corpse, the sun washing over the creature and drying it up much too quickly to be possible. She started to shrivel up on the stone, limbs twitching and jerking before her flesh fell off like melting fat. Black fluids continued to stream from her mouth and spilled all over the ground as her body caved into itself, bones turning into dust faster then a second could pass.

The smell turned almost impossible to bare, now stenching the air with sweetly cooked meat that reminded you of the kitchens. The sickly sweet aroma made you double over, coughs heaving from your throat as you tried to grasp for fresh air. You stumbled and covered your nose, shoulders shaking as you tried to keep from throwing up all over your front. You took another desperate breath of air before you realized the smell was gone - as if the decomposing process had gone by so fast that she was completely odorless. Your gaze lingered on her, watching her skull fall last, bone fracturing and falling into it's cranium before it turned into swirling dust, leaving behind a pool of black muck that was quickly staining the stone floor.

Unable to look at the spot any longer, you turned and ran back to your room. You ran through the hall of mirrors, your father's room, through the tiny hall with the stained glass cross, into the vacant great hall and up the spiraling stairs of the tallest tower.

Up and up and up and up.

You were too numb to feel fear. Too exhausted to think. Your legs threatened to give out, your chest was about to burst open, and your hands were staunch white as they clung tightly to the heart. But you kept going until you made it to the very top and back to the safety of your room, your sanctuary in this nightmare of a home.

The first thing you did when you stepped inside was catch your breath, leaning against your closed door and placing your hand over your pounding heart until it slowed.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

It was calming to feel your heartbeat, the pounding muscle working hard in your chest and assuring you that you still lived. You lived through the horror of a corpse chasing you, snatching at you and determined to drag you into the very depths of hell for an eternity of torture.

But you were alive. You were here and you had survived another horrible trial.

Stepping up the little stairway to your room, the first thing that caught your eye was the mirror. Despite the sun not yet reaching your windows, you could see the tall object outlined in the dark, still covered in the white sheet and untouched. Just seeing it made the room feel still, as if nothing wished to move or else it would attract it's attention before it attacked.

You swallowed hard and took action, placing the jar sternly on your end table before opening the door to your closet, glaring at the small storage space and hoping there was enough room. Pushing that worry away, you went towards the mirror with slight hesitation, fearful that once you touched it something horrible would happen. But once your fingers grasped the old frame did you realize how paranoid you were being and were relieved to find that nothing happened as you started to drag it towards the closet.

It took a few minutes to gather enough strength to push it through the door, your body already too weary from all the running and fearful situations you went through. You were determined to continue, preferring to lock the heavy mirror away to it's new destination where you would never have to look at it ever again. You would never see it, speak of it, or even think about it as it sat in your closet to gather dust and fade away from memory.

The sheet was pulled halfway off once the mirror was finally in the storage room, showing a glimpse of your reflection in what little light you had. You stared with a grimace, noting your nightgown was in tatters, hem threads unraveling and coated with drops of mud and water, one sleeve torn where the ghost had cut you along the arm in one long slice. What was worse was the blood staining all down your font, making the fabric feel heavy and disgusting against your skin as it seemed to dry from a bright red to murky brown.

You pulled at the front and flinched, finally smelling yourself and feeling even more appalled.

It was too ruined to have any hopes of use again and the last thing you wanted was to worry Marguerite. You knew if she saw this she would become extremely distressed, fretting and fawning over you until you told her everything. You couldn't have that right now and you certainly couldn't put her through all this.

Looking around, you saw a medium sized trunk off in the corner of the closet and quickly tugged the sheet back over the mirror before going to it. You opened it up slowly, waiting for something to jump-

Oh for goodness sake, you quickly slammed the lid open and glared, ready for whatever may come your way. You were greeted with nothing but a wave of dust and broken cobwebs, both flying up into your face and making you sneeze as you tried to shoo it away with your hand. Blinking, you peered inside and deemed the space a perfect hiding spot.

You shifted around as you pulled your ruined nightdress off, satisfied when the bloody front finally pulled away from your skin. It was a bit cold, but you didn't care as long as you could clean up a little and change clothes. You balled the dress up and placed it in the chest and moved to close it before you stopped yourself. Should you hide the heart in here too? Would it be safe? You looked over your shoulder at your end table, staring hard at the jarred heart before making your decision by closing the trunk and leaving the closet.

It wouldn't be wise to let the item leave your sight, not when the owner was so intent on you protecting it. It'd be best to keep it with you at all times now...besides, it made you feel safe.

Shutting the storage room door behind you, you took a deep breath and walked over to your vanity, relieved to see a bowl of water and washcloth waiting for you. It was usually here for the mornings when you had to wash your face or hands, but it was going to be your quick way to clean up before you finally passed out. You carefully washed yourself, from the mud caked between your toes to the splotches of blood that had soaked through your clothing and onto your chest. It felt like you were wiping away at layers and layers of grime along with most your worries, the cloth becoming dirtier the more you worked.

It took a few minutes before you gave up on completely cleaning the cuts on your legs and arms, almost nodding off and missing your limbs completely before you jerked back awake. You rubbed your eyes in exhaustion before grabbing a new nightgown, this one a short sleeve and much longer then your previous one, the back bottom hem dragging gently behind you on the floor like a wedding dress would. The material was a bit thinner too, the article of clothing suited more for the summer then early spring. It didn't bother you all too much though, you'd just grabbed the first thing you could so you could finally lay down.

The sunlight was slowly making it's way to your side of the castle, the sky looking less like a dark-navy with dots of white and yellow splattered across it's landscape and more like a steel blue that made it harder to view the stars. You trudged to the bed and quickly crawled under the blankets, pulling the furs snuggly over your form and letting your eyes finally rest after hours of being wide with fright. You embraced the inky blackness your closed lids provided, feeling secure as you felt yourself drift onward to sleep, your breathing becoming slow and your body relaxed as it felt like you sunk deep into the mattress.

It was wonderful.

You found yourself opening your eyes, fluttering a few times as you adjusted to the new light filtering through the windows. The room was no longer dark with shadows and possible monsters, but dim with the dawn's light. Furniture details were more recognizable and things that looked terrifying in the darkness now seemed mundane and silly.

You turned your head sideways to peer towards your balcony, eyes still blinking slowly as you felt yourself still nod off every few seconds. Not even the sight of a stranger standing by the balcony window seemed to force you to fully wake, too weak and incapable to sit up in a defensive position.

His back was to you and you were unable to see his face as he stared out the large windows. But you didn't need to see his features to know who it was, his long, fur-trimmed cloak still hanging on his shoulders and wild black hair outlined by the morning dawn. The man looked strangely tall against the dim light, as if someone had stretched him out a little too much and now his arms could reach further then most and his legs could take a much larger step to your two. Despite this strangeness and not being able to peer into his face, he still had an allure to him, the view of his broad back compelling you to stare just so you could watch the movements of his shoulders as they rolled or shifted.

It made you wish you had the strength to move so you could reach out to touch them...

The room seemed to be getting brighter, the sun making the night sky glow into pinks and reds that slowly turned into robin egg blue. You watched as the male gazed at the sunrise, staying perfectly still as tips of red and orange spread into the room, warmth touching your face as the sun finally rose over the mountains.

He let out a soft sigh as soon as the sunlight touched him, taking in it's embrace for just a moment.

You opened your eyes again, confused until you realized you must have passed out again. You looked at the balcony, expecting to see the stranger standing there but saw no one. You blinked and concluded it must be an hour or so later, the room much brighter and the sun higher in the sky.

Your hand was gripping something and realized you had grabbed the jar sometime during your dreamless sleep, the object cradled gently against your chest like a priceless treasure. It would have bothered you, but you were too used to having it around at this point. So you closed your eyes and let sleep take you once more, better to rest then to think about the absurdness of hugging a demon's heart as you laid in bed.

"-______??"

You blinked and felt a hand press against your forehead.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"She's running a fever..."

You groaned and tried to turn your head away, wanting to go back to sleep. The hand stayed firm on your face and went on to pat your cheeks gently, a twinge of annoyance flaring up at the person until they finally stopped. You wanted them to go away, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak, finding it much easier to lay back and let them do as they pleased.

"Better to let her rest for now. Start a fire and grab more blankets, she'll need to sweat this out."

"Should I also-"

The rest seemed like too much of a blur to remember, all you knew was someone piling more blankets on top of you and a wet washcloth on your forehead. Then you were asleep again, falling back into nothingness as your body tried to recover.

It seemed like this time you had the energy to fully wake up. You could move your arms and legs, wiggle your toes, and twitch all of your fingers. Your eyes fluttered open experimentally before your hand reached up from under the many blankets to pull the damp washcloth off your forehead.

You stared at it for a moment, still a bit dazed until you set it aside and sat up. Using the back of your palm to rub your eyes, you took the time to look around your room and realized it was completely dark again. There was no more friendly sunshine brightening the tower, just shadows devouring your room and feeding off every fear you could dream of having.

Night had come.

You had slept the whole day away and now you were transported back to hell where you would endure more atrocities before you finally broke down. You cradled your face in your hands for a few moments, taking a deep breath to gain some of the courage you had last night, to feel like you weren't in an endless cycle of horror and death that clawed at your wake.

But you had no courage left to cling to, only the stupid little jar and it's stupid heart.

"You still have it."

You froze, gaze lingering on your lap and the very object you were cursing before you slowly dragged it up to face the person speaking. There, right where you last saw him, was the very monster putting you through all this. This time he faced you, gaze no longer lingering on the sky as his body embraced the bright light. Instead he turned his back on the night, as if he was bored of the countless stars painting the sky. It showed clear on his face that he did not care what magnificence laid behind him, his face blank and eyes glowing a soft silver while the moonlight illuminated him.

He looked beautiful.

Even in the dark you could see how his face still seemed to draw your attention, as if sculpted by angels who had been careful with their delicate hands as they formed his strong jaw and long nose. They must have used the most expensive of paint brushes to color his skin that dark hue, careful with the tool's bristles as they tried to leave not a single blotch on him. With expert hands, they'd taken special care on his eyes, adding the bags beneath his eyes to make his steel pupils stand out bright and mesmerizing. They dragged you in, clung to you and pulled you deep into a bottomless lake where you felt frozen and helpless, but oh so very happy.

"Why do you still have it? Did you not find the chest?"

What? Oh, the heart.

You touched your forehead and flinched, feeling like you were getting a headache. "I-I've been asleep all day..."

There had been no way to look for the little box with bears carved into it's lock, so any chance of appeasing him was out the window and you weren't sure if you could gather enough energy to care. You were still so tired, so weary, and so very, very numb.

"You were asleep?"

You flinched at the harshness in his tone, your heart suddenly beating too fast and your body begging you to run.

"I'm s-sorry...I haven't been able to-"

Suddenly he was in front of you, steel eyes staring creepily as he gripped your wrists in his long palms and kept them still so you didn't jerk away. He bent down low to peer into your face, pupils flitting over your gaunt cheeks and tired eyes for a few moments before he pulled back. He let your left hand go and focused on the pulse in your right, remaining silent as he counted the shuddering beats beneath his icy fingers. You noted he had strange marks on each knuckle of his hand, a unrecognizable symbol painted in black on each knuckle while a large circular one stained the back of his palm.

He counted for thirty seconds before he scowled, muttering beneath his breath about 'taking too much'. Then he dropped your hand and sighed, stepping away while looking annoyed.

You stared, slowly lowering your wrist as he started to walk around the room, glancing over your things with narrowed eyes. He would pause at an object or two, tilting his head just slightly before he moved on to the next part of the room, making a full circle until he stopped at your closet door. The man stared at it long and hard, suddenly seeming like he was inhumanly still and no unstoppable force could move him.

You waited for him to say something, to point out some evil or give you some kind of hint as to why he was staring at your closet. It put you on edge, your nerves felt frazzled and your body jittery with growing energy. Before you knew what was happening, you were petting the jar, finding comfort in it's cold glass against your palm and cooling your skin.

"Stop."

He was in front of you, quickly clutching your wrists with his fingers squeezing mercilessly hard, the pain almost too much to bare despite the tingling sensation of feeling his skin against your own. You let out a soft gasp and nodded, too frightened to form words and apologize so he could let you go. He glared at you and lowered his face right in front of yours once more, eyes sharp and flashing dangerously while his lips formed into a scowl. You couldn't look away again, going back into a deep daze as you got lost in the glowing grays and whites that lit up his eyes.

His gaze was so chilling, so deep and easy to drown in as it felt like you were sinking into a lake once more.

"Everything is falling apart because of you." He squeezed tighter, your bones feeling like they were ready to crack under the pressure of his tight fingers. You tried to jerk your arms away, panic building in your chest as he leaned even closer, his brow furrowed in anger as his warm breath fanned over your face. You could see his glinting fangs, fearful they would sink into your neck once more and drain every last drop of blood.

"You will do everything I say from now on." His thumbs started to dig into the spots on your wrists where your pulse laid, feeling his sharp nail break the skin as your pulse quickened beneath his tips. "You will notbetray me."

It wasn't a question, but an order. His harsh tone sending shivers of dread up and down your spine while it also made you feel elated that you could hear his voice, deep and soothing to your ears. You wanted to hear more from him, to have him speak to you with affection and devotion before he held you dearly in his arms. It made it so hard to focus, so troubling to figure out why you were afraid...or why you were so happy.

You could only nod slowly in response, your mind screaming at you to free your hands and crawl as far away as possible while your heart told you to move closer so you could share in his warmth.

He stared at you hard, gaze feeling like it searched every inch of your soul before his frown turned into a wide, creepy smirk. It sent another chill down your spine and your flight or fight response finally kicked in, body trembling and struggling to free yourself as he finally released one hand. You used it to claw at his other one, desperate to pull him off of you while his palm moved to rest on the left side of your chest, just above your heart.

You gasped, suddenly frozen as he clutched tightly at the fabric of your nightgown before slipping it beneath it's folds to paw at your bare skin and to feel the rising heartbeat. He stroked this spot gently, looking pleased at what he felt before he drew a slow, agonizing circle on your skin and around where your heart laid.

"Shambles."

And then you saw white.