OPHELIA: Chapter 5

Blurb

Elizabeth Lockwick wants one thing… to ensure Ophelia remains dead.

For years she’s weaved a life seen through rose-coloured glasses in idyllic Vermont with her husband Sebastian Lockwick, an alluring man with a broken moral compass, whose intent lies in protecting his wife. However, apart from her unorthodox understanding of Sebastian’s dark and gritty hidden nature, she finds herself slipping away from her sanity in maintaining this picturesque life.

After receiving a gruesome gift from an unknown sender threatening to expose her, she finds herself haunted and possibly hunted by her buried past.

In order to make things right for herself and ensure that her secret is hidden, she reluctantly travels back to her sleepy small hometown in Wisconsin. A town where young girls seem to be mysteriously disappearing. There, she reunites with the dysfunctional Pierre-Louis’, a French-American family who sheltered her in their manor in her time of need.

With time slipping away, she struggles with her guilt and a dangerous affair and realizes that perhaps Ophelia wasn’t dead after all these years.

Elizabeth suddenly finds herself caught in a game of cat and mouse, unsure of which she really is this time and who she can trust.

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Chapter 5

Elizabeth flinched. She kept a time check on her wristwatch. 1:45pm and her husband had left Café Magnolia. The woman that sat across him left approximately forty minutes ago. She’d seen her already, but she was not sure where. Sally, whom she had met at the grocery an hour ago, returned to the table alongside Elizabeth. “Hot day, isn’t it?”

“Horrific,” Elizabeth mumbled as she swirled her fork into the spaghetti. She was supposed to feel at peace by now. Dr. Rao assured her that technology was the cure. It would have solved her problem, yet it made her feel even more guilty than before. She tried to push the thought out of her head. She tried to feel betrayed and hurt about her husband with that new woman. Yet, she wasn’t.

 “My, you seem deep in thought,” Sally’s words brought her back to reality.

“I’m sorry. It’s just been a rather strange day. My headaches won’t leave me either.”

“I have an aspirin.”

“No,” Elizabeth protested, “I just need to get home. I need some rest.”

“You certainly do.”

The drive back to the house felt like the earth was sucking the air away from her. Her head throbbed in such a way she was sure that a vein or two popped. The car slurred a few times too many. She shrugged out the car and reached to unlock the door when suddenly she noticed, it was left slightly ajar. Had she left it like this before she left the house? No. She wasn’t that careless. She was never such a careless person. Mistakes don’t just happen with her. Not since what happened.

Carefully, she entered the house. She wasn’t afraid. Nothing could scare her anymore, but she was angry. This was her territory. This was her life. No one should dare take that away from her. Taking a soft and calm breath in, she went into the kitchen and opened the cabinet, rummaging through the content for her prescribed migraine pills. Pulling the hair tie off her hair and massaging the scalp of her head with one hand, she clutched a chopper with her next.

She walked cautiously into the living room, following the strange silence that didn’t belong within the house. Her eyes scanned the corners of the empty room when suddenly they fell upon a small package left on top of the coffee table. A neatly wrapped matte black gift box, adorned with a red satin ribbon with no name taunted before her. Her jaw clenched as she sucked in her breath while opening the package.

Her heart fell.

A disarray of emotions plummeted throughout her body. Elizabeth felt as if the floor was sinking and as if someone had hammered her on the knees. They finally found a way to get to her. Blood smeared the cotton within the small box as the severed, aged, finger rotted halfway. The gold ring which hugged around the skin dimmed and a foul stench penetrated through the air. A single tear escaped her eyes. He didn’t deserve this.

A fire ignited within her. A violent rage consumed her body. She wasn’t letting this happen. The sound of a sudden thud echoed from her bedroom. Without a second thought, a fearless drive lent wings to her feet. Elizabeth entered the bedroom silently when suddenly a forceful fist slammed her to the wall. She lost grip on the chopper. The man who attacked her from behind the door kicked it out of the room, out of her reach.

“Fuck,” she mumbled, steadying herself.

The man, a year or two younger than her, looked like he was involved in some gang. He clutched the back of her hair in a fist and yanked her down. Pain scorched through her body.

“It’ll be a shame to distort that pretty face of yours,” the man chuckled.

“What did you do to Monty?” She seethed heavily while attempting to reach for the glass lamp on her nightstand.

“Monty?” The man arched an eyebrow, “Oh! You mean that old man? Got paid to kill off the old cock. Chopped him up in little pieces. Alive.”

Elizabeth slammed the glass lamp into his face. A sudden wail of agony pierced through the air. Blood stained upon his face as she pushed herself up and kicked him in her stomach, causing him to fall back.

“Who sent you?” She asked while grabbing a golf club from the opened closet nearby.

He chuckled. “Bitch.”

“Indeed, I am.” She hit him across his face. Twice on his knees. She knelt beside him and tilted his face towards her. “Who are you working for?”

His voice was frail and weak. She couldn’t understand a word. Just when she thought he was going to speak, he spat on her face. “Go to hell, bitch.”

She didn’t understand. A regular man would have begged for his life, put all the cards out to save himself, yet he’d rather die than speak the truth. Something was wrong here. He seemed unstable.

“Why are they doing this?”

“Fuck me first and I’ll tell you.”

“I’ll pay you double the amount if you start talking.”

The man snickered at her response, “I didn’t do this for money.”

With no time to spare, she grabbed a roll of duct tape and wrapped it around his wrists and ankles tightly whilst he was unable to move. Her eyes fell upon the man’s bare wrist, noticing a strange marking tattooed there. “You’re in a cult,” she whispered to herself.

“And you’re a crazy bitch.”

“I know,” she breathed while strapping him onto a chair. It was clear that this man was not going to give her the information she needed. There were two options, send him back with a message or get rid of him. She looked at the box with the severed rotting finger back at him. A look of sudden panic flushed across his face.

 “What are you doing.”

“I don’t give men second chances,” she smiled and stuck the finger into his mouth, clasping it shut with the duct tape.

His eyes widened and shook his body along with the chair. Muffled gags and groans escaped him. Elizabeth stood and looked at him intently. “You could swallow it.”

He tried to kick but his feet were stuck together. It was a futile attempt that almost made her chuckle. “Now listen, this is what’s going to happen. You’re going to get the hell out of my house, go back to whoever asked you to bring that box here, and spit what you have in your mouth out in his face. Understood?”

 She dragged the chair out of the room and stood in the hall when suddenly she saw Sebastian’s car pull into the driveway. It was only 3pm. She had not expected him to be back this early. Not until two hours or so. This complicated things. Looking back at the disgusting man in the chair, she frowned deeply and rolled the chair to the stairway of the basement. “Okay, change of plans.”

He struggled to get out and began moaning loudly for help. She was wrong about him it seemed. He was afraid. And who wouldn’t be with a rotted finger in his mouth? She pushed the door open and stared at the wide-eyed man just before she pushed him. “You don’t hurt my Monty.”

He tumbled headfirst down the flight of stairs.

Shutting the door behind her calmly, she headed into the living room and turned the vinyl recorder on. Doris Day’s ‘Dream a Little Dream of Me’ filled the stale air hauntingly as her husband entered the room.  

“You’re home early,” she smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek.

His hands found their way around her small waist. He always thought if he wasn’t careful that one day he could accidentally snap her in half. She was that one, rare, fragile bird that flew into the deep vast blue sky unaware. Pulling her into his embrace, he gently swayed her to the soft song. “The meeting was cancelled. It’s been a long day.”

“I can say the same,” she whispered into his chest. “I should prep for dinner. The dough needs to rest.”

“It’s only 3pm.”

“Pre-dinner,” she tried to joke. “I’m hungry.”

 The abrupt loud sound of the iron cupboard falling from the basement overpowered the music, gaining their attention. “What was that?” Silence filled the air between them as he turned, heading to the door of the basement. She followed.

The door opened with an old groan. Sebastian descended the flight of stairs to the dimly lit basement. The stench of the sweating man filled the air as they got at the base. Elizabeth stood silent yet surprised that he even survived that. He groaned and shifted on the floor before Sebastian who then turned to her. His face was now stone-like and cryptic. His eyes pierced like knives through her. She remained still as he closed the space between them, touching her bottom lip with his thumb. She could see the faint red that transferred on his finger. Due to her internal numbness, she hadn’t realized that her lip had been bleeding.

Sebastian reached for the crowbar on the table nearby. Elizabeth felt her blood thin, and a chill swept over her body. She sucked in the air before her. Her heartbeat quickened. In a swift second, Sebastian swung it deep and forcefully into the man’s face. Blood splattered everywhere. The man’s groans stopped. Her top was soiled. Her face was painted drops of red. She even tasted its metallic tang from the corners of her mouth.

She said nothing. Sebastian turned, dropping the crowbar to the floor. “Draw yourself a warm bath. I’ll make dinner.”

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