OPHELIA: Chapter 56
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 56
Mya wiped her tears away as she followed Ophelia. Sebastian walked ahead, keeping a hold on his gun. He kicked each door opened and cleared the way, allowing them to pass through. It almost felt like a never-ending exist. The hallways were long and twirling. Mya felt dizzy, her days here had been a nightmare. She had convinced herself that she was left for dead. Who would have saved her anyway? Her mother? That thought itself was laughable. She was always a burden to her mother after her father died. She knew not so deep in her heart that her mother would have been elated because of her death and she was right. She had heard one of the guards talking and laughing about how her mother had already had her funeral. It was at that point she truly lost hope. It was at that point she had given up.
The night she had met Stefan at the church was a night she first began stringing together a life of hope. An escape from this town. She wanted to be away from it all. She wanted a change from her life and to especially be away from her friends Especially Terilla. She knew what Terilla had done. That guilt was eating her alive. It was the reason she went to the church that night. She wanted to confess all she had known. Mya remembered having an argument with Terilla, begging her to confess, threatening her to. If she didn’t, she’d out her. Claire Marie didn’t deserve to die. Claire had always been so polite to her. They weren’t close but they always stood up for each other. Claire’s voice had been melting into her mind every second of everyday since she had died. Could she have done something to help her? That day she knew Terilla had intended to hurt her but she hadn’t expected it to have gone to this extent. Would things have been different if she had spoken up? What if she had warned her? Would Claire still be alive? She should have done more. She could have stopped it.
Yet, she didn’t.
The feeling ate into her soul until it was too much to bear. She just wanted to make things right. She just wanted to help. Maybe she deserved to have gotten kidnapped. Her thoughts ran back on Stefan. On that book he had given her. There was something so familiar about it, a feeling of hopelessness he painted. The feeling of being trapped. There were little notes he had written. Little poems about this girl. Most were in French. Mya wasn’t that good at French in school but she did understood some he wrote.
“Every day I think about her, I couldn’t forget. I can’t. No matter how much I try. No matter how much I want to. I never forget.”
“Like the sea, you are the salt which lingers and the wind which rustles through the leaves of the trees, all belonging together in nature, how I wish we could be. I envy nature. I envy the salt and the sea, splashing onto the wound of my soul, it torments me.”
It often was about this girl. She wondered if it had been Ophelia. There was something about Ophelia. The first time she saw her, Mya knew that the young woman before her had been through something. Perhaps it was one tortured soul in understanding to another. Yet, Ophelia seemed so much more than just a young woman, more than just a ‘tortured soul’, she confirmed that when she found her in the cell. When she reached out her hand towards her and wrapped her arms around her in comfort. Mya never had such comfort in her life. She convinced herself she was dead until Ophelia, a woman who barely even knew her, held onto her. If God was real, he had sent Ophelia to her.
Her mind suddenly flashed to Father Greywood. She had gone to the church to confess but Father Greywood wasn’t there. She had met him when she walked outside. It was as if he had been waiting for her. His smile seemed odd. His features were too calm. It was at that moment she felt an unease. Something’s wrong she remembered thinking. She had wanted to walk away but the further she walked away, the closer he seemed to get. Her mind was a blur. Her feet seemed to carry her faster, it was as if she was running but she had gotten nowhere. She bumped into the sheriff and she told him that someone’s after her. He assured that that he’d deal with it and instructed her to sit in the car. He said he’d take her back home. Home was never a safe space but at that moment that’s still where she had wished to be. The night seemed dim and long. She hadn’t remembered much after that. She had woken up in a dirty cell. A strange man had taken her up to a room of older men. Along the way, there stood others she had remembered seeing in the town. At the time she couldn’t remember their names. Fear was choking her. She couldn’t find words, she was cold and damp from being in the cell. All those people she saw in the room, she began to recognize them. They all stared at her blankly. These were the people that they’d go to for help. Police officers, church goers. It was all very confusing to her.
She wanted to forget what happened next but she knew those moments of her life would forever remain and scar her. They instructed her to remove her clothes. When she refused, they began tearing it off her, like she was some sort of pig they were trying to hold and roast for a thanksgiving dinner. They pinned her down to observe her naked body whilst making comments of sacrifice, and God, and of her virginity, somehow concluding that she was indeed a virgin. Yet, she wasn’t. The stares felt too long, too heavy, too evil. They’d stopped and she scrabbled towards her clothes, sobbing as she threw it on. It was clear they had no intention of letting her go.
“Mya!” Ophelia screamed, knocking her out of her thoughts.
A sudden forced knocked her to the floor from behind. It all happened so fast. Her face hit the floor and grazed against the sharp wood as the man pulled her. She dared to look back. It was the middle-aged back who was with Father Greywood and the sheriff. The man was about to shout. He shouted. “They’re in-!”
Blood gutted out like a hose on high speed. The skull was cracked open with the bullet. Sebastian lowered the gun and kicked the man off her. He dragged her up and pushed her towards Ophelia. “Go!” He instructed, pointing towards the large wooden door.
“Hanks!” the Sheriff’s voice shouted as his footsteps quickly neared.
Ophelia pulled the door open and shut behind her. it was a dead-end library. Panic gutted through her veins. Smoke began seeping through the vents. The rooms were getting hotter. The fire was getting thicker.
“Here,” Ophelia said as she opened an empty book cabinet, “Hide inside here.”
“What about you?” The young girl asked, scared.
“Don’t worry,” she smiled, “I’ll be okay. I promise. Now don’t come out until I tell you to. Okay?”
She nodded as Ophelia closed the cabinet. Her heart pounded within her chest as she heard loud grunts and crashes coming from the room before her where Sebastian and the sheriff were. Ophelia pulled out the gun and held it firmly before her, aiming at the entrance of the door. She prayed that it would be Sebastian to walk through the door, she prayed that it wouldn’t have been anyone else who’d force her to use this. She hadn’t realized how she had been trembling. All she knew was that she had to save this girl. She had to protect this girl. In a way, she saw herself in her. She had wished a long time ago she had someone to protect her. Truthfully, Ophelia saw herself in this girl. A younger version of herself and she knew she had to save her. Save her innocence. No matter what happens. She had to try.
A loud, ghastly, old groan echoed through the room. On the far right, a large bookshelf was opening. It was a decoy shelf, a door. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Through the dust and smoke, someone coughed. A familiar voice spoke sorely, and a face she knew all too well.
“Stefan,” she breathed in shock to see him here. His clothing had been covered in blood and his body was blistered. “Oh my God,” she trembled as she neared closer to him. “You’re here,” she said looking at him and realizing that it wasn’t his blood, thankfully.
“You didn’t think I’d not come after you, Lily. I got inside before they locked the doors.”
She sighed into his chest, feeling the warmness of his body against hers.
“You silly girl,” he gave a soft laugh, “I’d never leave you. Not again. Not even if you begged me to.”
The door to the room nearby suddenly pounded open. Stefan grabbed the gun out of Ophelia’s hand and aimed it at the person standing.
“Stef no!” Ophelia stopped him, standing in front of Sebastian. He lowered the gun confused.
Sebastian had been drenched in blood. It was like he swam in a pool of thick freshly gutted organs. The rooms were now scorching in heat and smoke. Mya began coughing in the cabinet. “Pierre-Louis,” Sebastian greeted.
“Lockwick.” Stefan mirrored with the same unexcited expression.
“I take it you came to save the day,” he mocked in amusement.
“Enough, both of you.” Ophelia scolded as she helped Mya out of where she left her. “We need to get out of here.”
“Are the Officials here?” Sebastian asked Stefan.
“They’re outside. The fire’s consumed most of the house.”
Sebastian swore under his breath, “I have to do something. Take them with you,” he instructed at both Ophelia and Mya, “There’s a small room in the back of the north shelf which leads to the attic. You’ll come out safely at the rooftop.”
“What?” Ophelia frowned, “Are you crazy? You can’t go back there.”
He ignored her and began walking away, into the room he came out of.
“Sebastian!” She shouted, walking after him.
He stopped, causing her to bump into him.
“You need to stop!” He raised his voice at her, “You need to stop chasing pain. You had enough all your life. Why do you do this to yourself? Don’t you get it? It’s over. Ophelia, you’re free. You’re finally fking free.”
“I-”
“God, don’t make this hard for me.”
“Sebastian,” she said softly, unsure of what to even say.
“I’m your past, love. You need to turn around and look to your future. He came in this hell just to get you. I trust him. I saw it, I can see it, you should have done this a long time ago. I’m sorry. For everything. For my brother- fk i didn’t even know what he did to you, for these people, for all that’s happened to you, for what I did. Give me the chance to fix what still can be fixed.”
Ophelia felt her words choking at her throat, unable to escape.
“If I could live a lie with you one more time, I would. Just so that I could tell you I love you, and this time I’d mean it. This time I’d be aware,” he paused and took a deep breath, “Take care of the girl. I have to go. Let me.”
She hadn’t said a word except stared up at the man before her. A tear rolled down her cheek. Just like that he took a few steps back and turned, disappearing into to thickened smoke. There was a pain in her chest, in her throat, in her soul. The room was scorching at this point and her body felt weak. She felt nauseous.
“Lily,” Stefan pulled her with him, out of the room. She knelt on the floor and began to sob. He hadn’t seen her broken down like this in so many years, “Hey,” he tried to comfort her.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. For all these years I did this to us. To you.”
“Hey hey,” he knelt and embraced her, “This isn’t your fault, we’re okay now. It’ll be okay. I promise. Everything will be. Trust me.”
She nodded, wiping her tears away.
“Let’s get out of this place.”
He helped her up and they walked through the narrow stairway behind the north shelf as Sebastian had told them. They stopped at the attic when suddenly someone slammed into Stefan, knocking the gun out of his hands. Mya screamed. Father Greywood chuckled as he tried to strangled Stefan. Stefan elbowed him and swiftly swung his fist into Greywood’s face. Blood leaked from his nostrils which seemed to now be broken.
“You’re a madman, Greywood.”
“You know,” he chuckled again with audacity, “I guess you can say your sister was spared, she was our next target. God what we would have enjoyed doing to her pretty little flesh. How sweetly she would have tasted at the tip of my tongue. I would have-”
Ophelia swung a lamp straight into his face, cutting him off. The glass shattered into his eyes and mouth. He groaned. Anger flared within her vein. She swung again. And again. And again. So many times, she stopped counting. So many times, Stefan was convinced that Greywood’s head had now been completely decapitated from his body. He held onto her wrist calmly in order to calm her.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, shh,” he cooed into her ear while taking the remaining of the rode away from her, “He’s gone, he won’t hurt us. You’re safe, Mya’s safe, I am.”
Mya stood, wide-eyed. “Hey,” Stefan said and knelt to her level, we’re almost out. Trust me, okay? Just a little longer.”
The girl nodded. She was stronger than he thought. It gave him hope somehow. He stood and held onto Ophelia’s hand. There was a small door at the corner that he pried open. In that second, a gust of fresh air swung in. A sudden light hit them, consumed them, soaked into them with the break of an early sunrise. Cold and fresh and new. Ophelia leaned against him, holding the girl near her. There was something about this dawn that felt different. For the first time after a long while, it tasted like hope.
**
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