Bloody Hands
Sept 4, 2016 22:46:16 GMT -6
Post by Janobii on Sept 4, 2016 22:46:16 GMT -6
When you think of London in 1885, what do you think of? John 'Babbacombe' Lee? The Rover Safety Bicycle demonstration? Or something else? For me, it’s cholera. Always cholera. Not that there was much to do with cholera, not like in earlier years, but it still existed, and someone had to help. That’s what he was here for, himself and Doctor Baxter.
“Brent, fetch me a wet cloth please, and a knife.” A 5’6 man turned away from his mentor, walking to a nearby cabinet to fetch what was requested. As he reached for the cloth and knife, the student had to admit, he felt some peradventure about this patient as well. Cholera was a deadly disease, with a high mortality rate. Often times, Brent and Doctor Baxter ended the lives of the patients themselves simply because there was nothing else they could do. At first, Brent had been strongly against the practice, believing that doctors were meant to work until the patient passed on their own. Now, though, he had come to accept this as another obligation of the apprenticeship. As the doctor had put it, ending a patient’s life some time during your career was ineluctable. Better to get into the practice now and learn how to cope with it than to face inner turmoil much later on.
Brent returned to his mentor’s side with the requested items. He watched as Doctor Baxter tried to treat the patient, hands steady as he lifted the water to the patient’s lips. At first, the patient did not react, his sunken eyes remaining barely open. Slowly, the water trickled down past the patient’s lips, causing his eyes to widen a little and his lips to part a little more. Doctor Baxter made a motion to Brent, and the boy walked to the patient’s side. Brent reached down and checked the man’s pulse, counting the time in his head. If it was below a certain point, they would dispose of the patient, claiming to the families it was an act of benevolence. A voice in the back of Brent’s head wanted the pulse count to be high enough, but another voice chided with the knowledge that it wouldn’t be. It rarely was in most of the cases he and Doctor Baxter treated. Brent let out a long sigh and shook his head. Doctor Baxter held the knife out to Brent before walking off to check out another patient. Brent gripped the knife tightly in his hand and tried to steel himself against his emotions. Despite his being used to the experience now, Brent was never prepared for the waves that followed the event. Brent lifted the knife and held it steady over the patient’s heart, before plunging it straight in. He watched unostentatious display of the life leaving the man’s eyes. When it was done, Brent closed the man’s eyes and removed the knife.
Brent walked over to where the water was kept and retrieved another cloth. He began to absently clean the knife as he rolled through his mind. Brent felt perturbed, he felt sorrow and guilt, empathy as well. He never wanted to end the lives of others, act as their judge, but at the same time, somewhere in the back of his mind, he experienced elation. Brent hated the feeling, but he had to admit to himself that he felt powerful when he held the knife, ending someone’s life as if he were on a higher pedestal than them. It was a double edged sword in more ways than one. Brent lifted his head as he heard the doctor call his name. Finishing his work, Brent put up his things and stepped out from the back area.
“Brent!” Doctor Baxter called again, spotting the boy almost immediately. “Your little friend is waiting out front. She wants to talk to you, as usual.” Now there was some news that could lift anyone’s day! Brent straightened his coat and removed his gloves and mask. Once Brent was satisfied with his appearance, he walked to the front of the building and stepped outside. There, on the sidewalk out front, was Amy Risa.
Brent paused to take in the sight. Amy was a 5’1 woman with skin so bright and flushed with light. Her eyes were a warm brown with a small doll-like small to compliment it. True to her Victorian heritage, Amy was dressed in a soft red dress that flared out naturally at her hips. White rose shapes circled the high neckline of the dress and the sleeves of her bodices were peaked at her shoulders ever so slightly, a new trend that had not started up too long ago. Amy’s curled hair was pinned up and partially covered by a wide brimmed red sun hat with a long white feather on the side. Overall it was a very slim, tailored look. And it was one that Brent appreciated, because for a short time the idea that looking large was attractive had come back into season, and personally Brent thought it did not do Amy any favors. She seemed to agree, since she was ahead of most women on the transformation back.
“Madder! Oh, how are you?” Amy called to Brent. A smile played across Brent’s lips as he descended down the steps. Without answering, Brent reached behind Amy’s ear.
“Oh? What’s this?” Brent pulled a card out from behind Amy’s ear. “Ah, it’s the ace of hearts! Did you steal it from me again?” Amy giggled and playfully tried to snatch the card from Brent.
“No Mr. Madder the Magician, I did no such thing,” she jested back.
“Well that cannot be right. Cards do not simply grow legs and follow pretty ladies, now do they, Maiden?”
“No I guess not,” Amy said, faking a pondering look. “Unless a magician makes them to spy on pretty ladies.” Brent suddenly felt a sharp pinch on his butt and his pale white face went bright red.
“Maiden!” he squeaked. Amy giggled again and waved Brent off.
“I know it’s not very lady like, but what are you going to do about it?” Brent was at a loss for words, still trying to get over the fact that Amy had just pinched his butt. “That’s what I thought!” Amy exclaimed, ruffling Brent’s short cut auburn hair a little.
“You are quite unlike all other London ladies that I know,” Brent confided to Amy, the gentle smile on his face giving away that he thought this was nothing short of a good thing in his mind.
“I know I am,” Amy responded, “And I know you love it too.” Brent scanned the surrounding areas, ensuring there were no prying eyes before he looked back at Amy.
“Indeed I do find you quite enamoring. Where’s your carriage?”
“They turned the corner right as you came out. They’ll be back at the end of the hour.” With that Brent leaned down and placed a kiss on Amy’s lips.
It was a doomed relationship, Brent and Amy. The two had met by chance several years before, when Brent had been out to purchase supplies for Doctor Baxter. On his way to the store, Brent ran into the woman he would fall in love with. Rather, she ran into him. While fleeing some of her attendants, Amy had rounded the corner and tackled Brent. The two had fallen onto the sidewalk, Brent breaking Amy’s fall. They shared breaths for a few seconds, staring at each other, before one of Amy’s attendants had ripped Amy off of Brent. A second attendant helped Brent up and cleaned both of them off. The attendants had all profusely apologized for Amy’s behavior and begged for forgiveness, which Brent had given without a second thought. He knew it had not been intentional and he saw no reason to press on it. All he had asked in return was the maiden’s name, to which she responded with Amy Risa and an inquiry of his own name. The apprentice had gladly conceded his own name of Brent Hughes, kissed Amy’s hand, and left with parting wish to see one another again.
Indeed such a wish would come true, as if guided by some celestial being of love, as Brent and Amy continued to randomly run into each other, until finally Brent asked if they could stop meeting accidentally and start meeting intentionally. Thus, Amy and Brent began to meet in secret, slowly falling in love. The first time the two had kissed had been magical. It was forbidden, and that was probably why the two liked it so much. That day the two had managed to ditch Amy’s attendants, and were hiding when Amy’s dress got caught on some of the cobblestone. Brent had helped her get it loose, but Amy lost her balance in the process, causing her to fall on top of Brent. Before Brent could get out from under Amy, the lady had spun over and placed her lips on Brent’s. Brent had tried to resist, but he felt himself melting under the pressure of Amy’s lips. The two had never progressed further than a kiss, but that was all they needed to convey their feelings for one another. And then it happened.
As if it were punishment for their forbidden love, Amy’s mother came down with cholera. Amy had managed to convince her father to have her mother treated by Doctor Baxter so she could have an excuse to see Brent, but Brent no longer seemed as eager to see her following the news. Amy knew that Brent was nervous he had been the cause of this, but Amy slowly managed to convince him that this was nothing of his own fault. Now, it was almost as if nothing had ever happened. There was just one problem, if they wanted to progress further, Brent would have to ask for Amy’s hand in marriage. This wouldn’t be a problem except for the class system. Brent, as an orphan and a doctor, was several class levels lower than Amy, a proper Victorian lady from one of the wealthiest families in London. Brent offered nothing to gain when it came to marriage, and when Victorians thought of marriage, they associated it with politics not love. And so, the lovers were forced to hide their true feelings, for they would never be what they truly wanted. Maybe it was for the best, but it never really seemed like it.
“How's my mother?” Brent paused and released Amy. He sighed and shook his head.
“She's not worse, but she's not much better either. I'm doing all I can but…” Brent looked to the side and mumbled, “she'd be better off in someone else’s care. We’re not the best at our work. Most of our patients die.” Brent looked at Amy. “Please, take her somewhere else.” But Brent already knew Amy’s answer before it left her lips.
“Madder, you know I can’t do that. If I did that, I would lose my chance to see you regularly. And I refuse to give that up.” Brent bit his lip. He always felt so conflicted about this. On one hand, he loved to see Amy regularly, but on the other hand, as a doctor, it was his duty to give his patients the best treatment possible, and Amy’s mother was not receiving it here.
“Maiden, I-” Amy cut Brent off with another kiss. Brent could not protest such persuasive methods, and Amy was well aware of this. Curse women and their effective methods of coercion. The two talked absently for what seemed like no time at all before Amy’s carriage rounded the corner at the end of the street. And just as quickly as she had arrived, Amy was forced to leave. As she stepped into her carriage, the young maiden waved to her madder magician, and he waved back before turning to the building. Brent reentered silently, the closing of the door behind the only indication that he had returned.
“You need to make your move soon,” Doctor Baxter called from the other room. Brent stiffened and froze in place. “You act in denial of it, but I would be quite the unintelligent individual if I could not pick up on what is going on between you two. Trust me, you need to grab her now, because once her mother passes, Amy is going to be a hot prize on the market.”
“I highly doubt that will happen,” Brent replied calmly as he put his gloves and mask back on.
“Suit yourself. But be warned Brent, if you do not move your chess piece soon, I will move mine.”
Brent shivered at the words, knowing exactly what Doctor Baxter meant, and it was not a pleasing thought to dwell on. If Brent did not make up his mind soon, Doctor Baxter would pursue a vinculum with Amy. That was another thing Brent hated, golddiggers, and there was no denying that Doctor Baxter was a class A golddigger. With Amy’s family wealth, he would be set for a long time to come, both the doctor and Brent were well aware of this. If Brent had to guess, this was partially why Doctor Baxter was pressuring Brent to make a move. Doctor Baxter was under the false assumption that once Brent married Amy, the apprentice would turn around to give favors to his old mentor. Oh how wrong he was.
Nevertheless, Brent considered the words with true severity and decided it might be a good idea to give the relationship an official shot. He contacted Amy and requested to officially meet her father over dinner, so that he might be able to receive good graces and possibly, in the future, ask for Amy’s hand in marriage. Amy was overjoyed and instantly agreed to work it out. True enough to her word, the next time Amy returned, everything had been set up. However, as if the hands of fate had decided that too much normalcy had returned to the lives of the lovers, they struck swiftly with an attack neither was prepared for. It happened the night Brent was to meet Amy’s father. He was almost finished with his appearance when Doctor Baxter burst into his room, out of breath, a frazzled look in his eye.
“Margaret Risa…” he wheezed, “she’s deteriorating. I have failed to stop it with all my attempts. When are the Risas arriving? Maybe we can stall her out until they arrive.” Dropping everything, Brent and Doctor Baxter ran downstairs from the residential area to the location of their practice. Sure enough, Margaret Risa was on the doorstep of the afterlife. Madder grabbed several medical supplies, including a knife, a cloth, water, and some herbal medicines. Amy and her father were not due to arrive for another twenty minutes or so. He had to keep Mrs. Risa alive for that long. She could not leave this world without Amy seeing her one more time. Brent would not allow it. Brent dampened the cloth and placed it on the woman’s forehead before dripping some of the water into her mouth. He gently force fed her some of the medications, and for a few seconds she would seem to improve before the state would only to degrade into something much worse than before. Still, Margaret hung on, just barely, but her life was sustaining itself against death’s will. It was as if she knew her daughter and husband would be there soon, and she was rejecting death just so she could see them one more time. Brent dabbed another cloth over Margaret’s face when he noticed her lips move. He leaned down and placed his ear next to her mouth.
“I love you, Amy, Henry. I am so sorry.” Brent’s eyes widened and he pulled back, noticing a dull look in Margaret’s eyes. The spark of life that had been dancing there moments before was dimming considerably.
“No!” Brent shouted, “Please, Mrs. Risa, they should be here any minute now! Just hang on.” As if she understood Brent’s words, the corners of Margaret’s lips quirked up into a smile, and remained that way as all the life in her eyes faded. Brent clutched the cloth in his hands tightly, tears brimming in his eyes. “Dammit!” he screamed, knocking over a nearby table and throwing the rag to the ground. Doctor Baxter reentered the area Brent was in, carrying more medical supplies to be used to treat Margaret, but froze when he saw warm tears trailing down Brent’s cheeks.
“She’s gone, is she not?” Brent nodded silently, making no move to brush away the symbols of his sadness. He only lifted his head ever so slightly when a knock at the front door echoed throughout the house. Brent and Doctor Baxter exchanged a look. “I should go and inform them of the news.”
“No, Doctor Baxter, I should… I should be the one to do it.” Without awaiting Doctor Baxter’s response, Brent walked to the front door. He took in a deep breath, then opened the door, where Amy and her father, Henry Risa, were waiting. At first, both seemed somewhat jovial, but Amy’s facial expression shifted to concern when she noticed the tears tracing Brent’s face.
“Brent, what happened?” she asked softly, her father now adopting a face of concern.
“I’m so sorry,” Brent whispered, “I tried to save her, at least stall her out until you could arrive but… death’s grip was too strong.” It was a blur from that point on. Henry and Amy brushed past Brent to see Margaret themselves. Lots of tears were shed, and Brent did his best to comfort them, but he had never been skilled in such things. At some point, Amy and Henry left, with some men arriving some time later to retrieve Margaret’s body. Amy and Brent did not make contact for several weeks, a silence laced with tension growing between them. It was not until a letter from Amy arrived almost two months later that this was finally broken.
Brent’s hand shook as he read over the letter from Amy. It was a welcome letter, but the words still terrified him like nothing before. According to Amy, her father was going to try and marry her off soon, since there was little chance of a male heir now. Since there were still four years until she turned twenty-one, it was a safer move to marry her than to wait that long on the off chance that her father died. In most cases, she would have been engaged to the richest bachelor already, but Amy’s father knew that Amy had wanted to try and give Brent a chance. Henry was willing to meet with Brent and, if he approved of Brent, they could be engaged despite the circumstances. However, they only had one shot at this. Amy also informed Brent that her father already felt somewhat impressed with Brent, as Brent had done everything he could to not only save Margaret’s life, but also to try and extend it just a little longer for them to see her one last time, even though his efforts had failed. This impression was probably the main reason why Brent was being given this last chance, and he could not afford to screw it up. So the date was set, the arrangements made, and everything was put into place. All Brent needed was a successful meeting and all would be well.
The night arrived swiftly, and Brent could not prevent the trepidatious feeling that crept across his back. He tried to shake it off, but the premonition always returned a little while later. Brent found himself casting glances at the clock more and more as he awaited the carriage’s arrival. Finally, the hour arrived, and Brent straightened his tie for what seemed like the thousandth time. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, when Doctor Baxter turned the corner.
“Well, finally trying to settle in with the lady, eh?” Doctor Baxter laughed at Brent’s annoyed expression. He drew closer, making sure to keep his hands behind him. “I would be rejoicing if not for the timing of your charade.” Brent raised one of his eyebrows and opened his mouth to coax the meaning of this sentence out of Doctor Baxter when a knife was suddenly thrust at him. Brent barely managed to catch the doctor’s hands in time, the tip of the blade slightly ripping the fabric of Brent’s outfit.
“What is the meaning of this?” Brent choked out. Doctor Baxter let out a sickening laugh and slammed Brent into a wall, forcing the knife closer to its destination in Brent’s heart.
“You fool! Have you not put it together yet?” Brent’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the suggestion. “I guess not, you blind child! I’ve been after the girl’s fortune this whole time. I was hoping you would charm her into aiding us, but you took your sweet time, and I have a deadline to meet.”
It suddenly became clear. The day he and Amy had met, Doctor Baxter had pressed for Brent to go to that specific store. The subsequent meetings, all from the doctor’s urging of Brent to go to specific locations. Then Doctor Baxter’s overly suspicious eagerness to treat Margaret, followed by her subsequent death on the day Brent was to go out with Amy. It had all been a set up!
“You’ve been colluding with someone,” Brent growled, using what strength he could to push Doctor Baxter back. “You were the one who set all of this up! You did not want me to live happily, you merely wanted to live wealthily. But since I was taking too long you decided to take matters into your own hands.” Brent grit his teeth as a question rose to the tip of his tongue and leapt out before he could stop it. “Was the whole reason you rescued me as a child because you wanted to use me, you creep!” This caused Doctor Baxter to hesitate in his actions.
“Is that what you believe, Brent? That I have been planning this from the start? Brent, your parents were good friends of mine. Why would I not have taken in their son after the unfortunate accident? It would have been cruel and unspeakably inhumane. At least I have given you a chance to live, before I take it away. Do you not understand, my boy?” Brent did not want to hear any more. The words that entered his head, they were unwanted, and maddening. All he wanted was for all the noise that screamed in his mind to stop.
“Just stop!” Brent screamed, throwing Doctor Baxter back. He stared at the floor and breathed heavily, a crash rattling in the distance. Brent squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his hands against his skull. The noise would not stop, there was no solace from it, but somehow, one thought managed to escape the discoordination that encapsulated his mind. Amy was in danger. Brent’s eyes snapped open and he lowered his shaking hands from the sides of his head. “Amy!” There was a croaking laugh from the other side of the room.
“She’s nowhere near her, and her father has joined his wife. You might as well just give up now. My partners and I have already won, and you have lost.” White hot fury shot through Brent’s veins, and a scream tore from his throat. Brent threw open the front door and sprinted outside, ignoring the downpour that flooded the streets of London. He could hear the shouts of Doctor Baxter over the wind, but the words were lost in the storm. Charging through the streets of London, Brent arrived at the Risa family house faster than the boy had ever known possible. As if to confirm his suspicions of the whole incident, the front door was wide ajar and the gate that protected the home smashed open. Brent paused a second to take in the scene when Amy’s scream echoed through the late night air.
“Amy!” Brent called out, leaping over the wreckage of the gate and dashing up to the door. The foyer was abandoned, but Brent could hear the sounds of struggling in the master bedroom. Brent was off like a bullet, slamming his shoulder into the locked door. The weak wood could not stand up to the force of the grown man crashing with all his might into the door, and it snapped with relative ease. Brent winced as splinters cut his hands, arms, and face, but his own well being was not his main concern right now.
“Release me!” Amy’s sharp voice cracked as she struggled against the force of the two men pinning her down. “Please! Someone please! Help!”
“It is no use screaming, Miss Risa, no one will hear you,” one of the two criminals chided, “which is great for us. We would not want anyone interrupting us, now would we?”
“Are you sure the boss will be okay with this? He seemed very steadfast on having this girl as his wife.”
“Ah what does he care. For all he knows, that kid of his was the one who busted her. It would not be to his surprise either, given how much he knows about what they have done already.”
“I would be careful how you refer to someone, you never know when they might be listening.” The two men’s heads snapped to attention. The room lit up as lightning struck outside, Brent’s tortured brown eyes seeming to glow in the light.
“Well, well,” the first man said, lifting himself off of the bed, “so the boss could not dispose of you after all. Too bad, that just means more dirty work for us.” Somehow, those words both satisfied and horrified Brent at the same time. He knew they were true, even if he did not want them to be. Brent’s eyes flicked to Amy, who was sitting up in the bed, both men now preoccupied with Brent.
“If you wish to harm the lady, you must catch me first.” Brent ducked back through the broken door and led the men through the foyer. Brent was unsure where he was going, hallway after hallway he ran, but he knew he would need a weapon if he wanted Amy to escape with her life. It seemed the universe knew this as well, because the next room Brent entered was the kitchen. He spotted his weapon of choice immediately, grabbing one of the shelved knives, and turned to face his oncoming opponents.
“Oh, he finally stopped running! Maybe he realized how futile of an effort that was,” one of the two lackeys surmised. As soon as he set foot into the kitchen, Brent was upon him. He tackled the man into the hallway, and held him down with his free hand.
“How dare you even think of Maiden in such a harmful way,” Brent growled out. “I may not be sinless, but at least I have not gone as far as you have tried tonight.” With that, the man began to beg for mercy, but Brent would not hear of it. He raised the knife into the air and sent it straight through the attacker’s heart. Brent’s heartbeat picked up and a smile tugged at his lips. Sure, he had killed before, but never like this. It felt powerful, like no other life ending had before. Brent withdrew the knife and stabbed the man again, repeating the motion three, four, and five times. He felt a chuckle rising in the back of his throat as his fingers were coated in a shimmering red liquid. Brent was about to slice open the man’s throat when a hand grabbed his wrist. Brent turned his head to see the other assailant. Oh how pleasing, another victim!
“You are sick, kid. I never realized you were this twisted. Though I guess I should not be surprised, given the boss raised you.”
“Oh? What is that supposed to mean?” Brent asked, wrenching his wrist from the man’s hand and thrusting the knife into the center of the man’s chest, before pushing it up. The man coughed, spitting blood onto Brent’s face, but it did not bother him. Brent’s smile was the widest it had ever been for as long as he could remember. Brent ripped the knife from the fellow’s chest and pushed him down to the ground. Brent spun the knife between his fingers before throwing it into the man’s forehead. He breathed heavily as he stared at his work, enjoying the beauty of it before the morality of it all came crashing down when a voice piercing the silence.
“Br-Brent?” Brent’s head snapped up and he locked eyes with Amy. In her eyes swam an emotion he had never seen before when she faced him. It was not the usual warmth and happiness that sparkled in her eyes, but rather terror that reflected back at him. The weight of the whole attack came crashing down on Brent.
“How much did you see?” he whispered, still breathing hard as his heart raced inside his chest. Even now, in the horror of being caught for what he was, Brent could not quell the excitement that beat within him.
“Enough,” Amy replied. “Brent, I think you should go.”
“Maiden, I-”
“Don’t call me that!” Amy suddenly shrieked. Brent stepped back in surprise, his hands beginning to shake. “You… you monster! I never want to see you again.”
The whole world suddenly stopped in that moment. Everything in motion froze, except Brent and Amy. They were in slow motion, Brent collapsing to his knees, while Amy fled out of Brent’s sight. Monster, she had called him. That is what he was. Brent had just always hoped Amy would never see that. Whispers began to echo inside Brent’s mind, simple thoughts that almost seemed like basic human instinct, but they were not. They were Brent’s thoughts, telling him to pursue Amy, to kill her. Brent was horrified to find such thoughts filled him with joy and tears began to trickle down his cheeks as indecision warred in Brent’s mind. He was becoming lost in the swarm of thoughts that clouded his mind, when a sudden warmth pierced through it all.
“Madder?” an unfamiliar voice spoke. Brent lifted his head slowly to see a woman standing beside him.
She stood tall above him, about 5’7 with short cut black hair. She had shining sky blue eyes and pale, almost translucent skin. She was adorned in strange clothes, a long sleeve blue top that hardly covered her top. She also wore what seemed like very shortened navy trousers that revealed much of her legs. Her feet were covered with small white fluffy shoes that matched what appeared to be a white newsboy hat.
“I apologize for not having arrived earlier. Oh this is all my fault.” The woman raised her left hand to her mouth and bit her thumbnail. “Maybe I can contact Jason. He might not be in favor of changing this though.”
“Um… excuse me, ma’am?” Brent asked, confused as to where this woman had come from and how she had known Amy’s pet name for him. The woman looked back down at Brent and shook her head.
“Oh how rude of me! I apologize again, my name is Madeline, Madeline Hatter. I know I probably have a lot of explaining to do, but it appears like we will have plenty of time for that.” Brent frowned in confusion until he heard shouts outside of the house and realized someone, probably Amy, had contacted the police. He let out a long sigh. He would be hanged for this. “Well I guess it is a good thing you are immortal. Though Jason is going to have fun cleaning this up.” Before Brent could ask what the madam meant, several guards burst in. Brent lifted his hands into the air and lowered his head, putting up no resistance as he was tied up and dragged out to the police vehicle awaiting him outside.
Suddenly, it seemed time no longer dragged, but rather raced like a wild stallion. Brent was locked away, where his visitor that no one else could see would keep him company. He was not sure when it happened, but at some point Brent no longer introduced himself as Brent Hughes, but rather Madder Hatter. As Madeline spoke, Brent was filled in on what he had been missing out in the past eighteen years. Mages, immortality, special powers, and so much more. Somehow, as crazy as it all sounded, it made quite a bit of sense. Before Madder knew what had happened, everything made much more sense than before, and the day of his passing arrived. He laughed the whole time, like someone had told him a joke he could not get over. They tied the noose around his neck and the platform opened, dropping Madder, but even as his neck snapped, the man did not die. Madder expected everyone to be shocked, but it was almost as if something had washed over them. Before he could register what he had witnessed, Madder had returned to his cell, and it was the man that had been in the cell next to him that was hung.
Another year passed with Madder and Madeline talking, learning so much about each other. Madder learned about Madeline and her relationship with Death, about her son that was watching over her from the underworld, and about how he was her reincarnation, of sorts. In turn, Madeline learned about the death of Madder’s parents, his life as the adopted child of Doctor Baxter, and his love affair with Amy. When Madeline asked if Madder was over Amy, Madder would simply laugh and say he felt nothing surrounding her anymore. And to some extent, it was true. Then it was execution day again, and Madder watched more carefully this time, but just as before, when he should have died, suddenly the man in the cell next to him was the one that was hung. It was after this that Madder formulated a plan. He began to ask precise questions of Madeline, and what he managed to figure out only caused the madness of the events to click into place like puzzle pieces. Each time he was to be executed, the mages of time, space, and memories all coordinated to ensure it was not he that was executed, but someone else. The more Madder inquired, the more he realized how easily he could manipulate the events if he really wanted to. And so he did.
Madder walked with a purpose to his third first attempt at death, and he noticed the distortion this time that he had not before. It was almost as if he could see the mages that Madeline spoke of. A smile graced his lips as the noose was tightened around his neck, and when the platform dropped, Madder thought of the gates to Amy’s house. And, just as he had expected, he was there. It was just as he remembered too. There was no chaos and pandemonium like the night he had been arrested, but it was large and calm. The only difference was the lack of jovial atmosphere, it seemed quite the opposite this time. Maybe that was what happened three years after two murders took place in a home. Madder began to approach the door when he heard a whisper.
“Brent!” Madder frowned, recognizing the name but having to take the time to process it after having not been called it for so long. He turned in the direction of the voice and noticed a woman that could only be Amy peering around the side of the house.
“Amy?” Madder answered back. Amy raised a finger to her lips and glanced towards the windows of the house. She signaled him closer, to which Madder obeyed. Amy pulled him around the side of the house and she looked him over as if she had never seen him before. Then, without hesitation, Amy pulled Madder down and connected their lips. The physical touch reawakened something within Madder and he pressed Amy against the side of the house, kissing her with intense desire. He pulled back and stared over Amy, seeing how much she had matured in the three years they had not seen each other. She did not seem all that different, other than her frame seemed much more frail than before, and her appearance overall more lady-like.
“Brent,” Amy rasped, “what are you doing here?” Brent blinked a few times, feeling like he had just woken up from a three year nap. He gazed around before looking back at Amy. Had she always been this tempting?
“Is it not obvious? I am here to see you,” Brent replied. “I know I should not be here, but-” Amy pressed her finger to his lips, ceasing Brent’s voice.
“I do not need an explanation. I do not care. Just take me away. Please. I cannot stand being here anymore.” Brent furrowed his brows in confusion.
“Why? What is wrong?” As if to answer his question, a voice shouted from inside the house that sent shivers down Brent’s spine.
“My my! Dear, you did not tell me we were having a guest over.” Doctor Baxter. Brent looked up and locked eyes with his adoptive father. Tension crackled between the two. “Has the ghost of our pasts come to haunt us?”
“Baxter,” Brent spit, “what have you done to Amy?” Soft sobs began to escape Amy’s lips and tears traced down her face. Brent looked back at Amy and it made sense. He kissed Amy’s head and wiped away her tears. “Amy, it is all right. I am here now. I will rescue you from this place.” Brent looked back up towards the doctor. “And you called me the monster. You are nothing but a sadistic golddigger, Baxter.”
“Oh? And what does that make you? A man with a love for killing? You know what it is like to kill, Brent. What is to stop you from craving it in the future? What is to stop you from harming your little sweetheart?” Brent tightened his grip on Amy.
“That will never happen!” Brent snapped, “I would never hurt Amy!”
“Oh? Sure did not seem like that on the night you were arrested three years ago.” This rendered Brent silent. He lowered his gaze to the ground. To some extent, the doctor was right. What right did Brent even have to be here after his actions that night? Still, his maiden was in need, and he was not going to leave her here when she needed him most. Brent raised his head again and flicked his right arm. A three of spades suddenly appeared in his hand. Doctor Baxter laughed at the appearance. “What are you going to do with that? Bore me to death with magic tricks.”
“Not quite,” Brent replied. He concentrated and the cards quickly became engulfed in purple flames before disappearing. Brent closed his palm then opened it again, allowing the wind to catch the ashes. The ashes reformed into three large flaming spades that slammed into the house, creating a large explosion. “Now, come on, Maiden!” Brent pulled Amy away from the house and led her down the street.
“What did you just do?” Amy asked, holding tight to Brent’s hand as they ran away from the only home Amy had ever known.
“I can explain later,” Brent responded. “Right now we just need to get as far away from here as possible.” Brent scanned the nearby area and grit his teeth when there was no sign of his previous incarnation. “Madeline!” he called out, “Madeline, where are you?”
“Who is Madeline?” Amy seemed very confused by everything that was going on, and it was obvious that Brent was started to overwhelm her. “Brent, what has happened to you?”
“Maiden,” Brent looked at Amy and smiled softly at her. “I have changed in ways I think neither of us thought possible. I promise, I will explain all of this as soon as we are in a safer location. Okay?”
“You promise?” Amy requested.
“I promise.” That seemed to satisfy Amy, as the smile that once took up residence on her face constantly three years before returned in that instant, and it made her face sparkle in a way that Brent found more brilliant than he could recall. And then, just as quickly as it had came, it was gone.
Brent’s ears rang from the loud crack that echoed throughout the neighborhood. Amy’s eyes were wide and her whole body shook as she suddenly collapsed against Brent. Doctor Baxter’s laugh sang sonorously in the background as Brent slowly lowered Amy to the ground. Red blossomed like a rose against the bosom of her dress and Brent moved to rip it open, but Amy stopped him with her delicate hands. She shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes, and managed one more smile.
“Thank you for everything, Brent.” Amy whispered. She squeezed his hand before releasing it and allowing her eyes to become unfocused. And just like that, she was gone, taking Brent along with her. Madder’s eyes flashed with rage as tears dripped from his eyes onto Amy’s face. He closed her eyes and merely blinked before a strangling sound interrupted Doctor Baxter’s laughter. Madder lifted his eyes, watching the King of Clovers dig his thumbs into the doctor’s throat. Doctor Baxter’s mouth formed pleads of mercy, but it was too late for that. The deed was done, and so was the perpetrator. Eventually, Doctor Baxter’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and the King of Clovers vanished as the dead body crumpled to the ground. Madder’s gaze merely returned to the body of the woman cradled in his arms. Time stood still as he mourned in silence, only to be interrupted in much the same way he had been three years prior.
“Madder!” Madder lifted his head and spotted Madeline, her hands over her mouth as she took in the scene. She took in a few shaky breaths and shook her head. “No… this cannot be. Amy was not supposed to…” Madeline lowered her gaze. “Once again, it seems I am too late.” Madder remained silent, no emotion coming forth from his heart as he watched the display from Madeline.
“Madeline,” he spoke softly, “I have a favor to ask of you.” Madeline lifted her eyes to Madder’s and waited in bated silence for Madder’s proposition. Madder’s hands tightened on Amy’s arms as the suggestion left his lips, everything balancing on this moment.
“Can you have Amy brought back to life?”
“Brent, fetch me a wet cloth please, and a knife.” A 5’6 man turned away from his mentor, walking to a nearby cabinet to fetch what was requested. As he reached for the cloth and knife, the student had to admit, he felt some peradventure about this patient as well. Cholera was a deadly disease, with a high mortality rate. Often times, Brent and Doctor Baxter ended the lives of the patients themselves simply because there was nothing else they could do. At first, Brent had been strongly against the practice, believing that doctors were meant to work until the patient passed on their own. Now, though, he had come to accept this as another obligation of the apprenticeship. As the doctor had put it, ending a patient’s life some time during your career was ineluctable. Better to get into the practice now and learn how to cope with it than to face inner turmoil much later on.
Brent returned to his mentor’s side with the requested items. He watched as Doctor Baxter tried to treat the patient, hands steady as he lifted the water to the patient’s lips. At first, the patient did not react, his sunken eyes remaining barely open. Slowly, the water trickled down past the patient’s lips, causing his eyes to widen a little and his lips to part a little more. Doctor Baxter made a motion to Brent, and the boy walked to the patient’s side. Brent reached down and checked the man’s pulse, counting the time in his head. If it was below a certain point, they would dispose of the patient, claiming to the families it was an act of benevolence. A voice in the back of Brent’s head wanted the pulse count to be high enough, but another voice chided with the knowledge that it wouldn’t be. It rarely was in most of the cases he and Doctor Baxter treated. Brent let out a long sigh and shook his head. Doctor Baxter held the knife out to Brent before walking off to check out another patient. Brent gripped the knife tightly in his hand and tried to steel himself against his emotions. Despite his being used to the experience now, Brent was never prepared for the waves that followed the event. Brent lifted the knife and held it steady over the patient’s heart, before plunging it straight in. He watched unostentatious display of the life leaving the man’s eyes. When it was done, Brent closed the man’s eyes and removed the knife.
Brent walked over to where the water was kept and retrieved another cloth. He began to absently clean the knife as he rolled through his mind. Brent felt perturbed, he felt sorrow and guilt, empathy as well. He never wanted to end the lives of others, act as their judge, but at the same time, somewhere in the back of his mind, he experienced elation. Brent hated the feeling, but he had to admit to himself that he felt powerful when he held the knife, ending someone’s life as if he were on a higher pedestal than them. It was a double edged sword in more ways than one. Brent lifted his head as he heard the doctor call his name. Finishing his work, Brent put up his things and stepped out from the back area.
“Brent!” Doctor Baxter called again, spotting the boy almost immediately. “Your little friend is waiting out front. She wants to talk to you, as usual.” Now there was some news that could lift anyone’s day! Brent straightened his coat and removed his gloves and mask. Once Brent was satisfied with his appearance, he walked to the front of the building and stepped outside. There, on the sidewalk out front, was Amy Risa.
Brent paused to take in the sight. Amy was a 5’1 woman with skin so bright and flushed with light. Her eyes were a warm brown with a small doll-like small to compliment it. True to her Victorian heritage, Amy was dressed in a soft red dress that flared out naturally at her hips. White rose shapes circled the high neckline of the dress and the sleeves of her bodices were peaked at her shoulders ever so slightly, a new trend that had not started up too long ago. Amy’s curled hair was pinned up and partially covered by a wide brimmed red sun hat with a long white feather on the side. Overall it was a very slim, tailored look. And it was one that Brent appreciated, because for a short time the idea that looking large was attractive had come back into season, and personally Brent thought it did not do Amy any favors. She seemed to agree, since she was ahead of most women on the transformation back.
“Madder! Oh, how are you?” Amy called to Brent. A smile played across Brent’s lips as he descended down the steps. Without answering, Brent reached behind Amy’s ear.
“Oh? What’s this?” Brent pulled a card out from behind Amy’s ear. “Ah, it’s the ace of hearts! Did you steal it from me again?” Amy giggled and playfully tried to snatch the card from Brent.
“No Mr. Madder the Magician, I did no such thing,” she jested back.
“Well that cannot be right. Cards do not simply grow legs and follow pretty ladies, now do they, Maiden?”
“No I guess not,” Amy said, faking a pondering look. “Unless a magician makes them to spy on pretty ladies.” Brent suddenly felt a sharp pinch on his butt and his pale white face went bright red.
“Maiden!” he squeaked. Amy giggled again and waved Brent off.
“I know it’s not very lady like, but what are you going to do about it?” Brent was at a loss for words, still trying to get over the fact that Amy had just pinched his butt. “That’s what I thought!” Amy exclaimed, ruffling Brent’s short cut auburn hair a little.
“You are quite unlike all other London ladies that I know,” Brent confided to Amy, the gentle smile on his face giving away that he thought this was nothing short of a good thing in his mind.
“I know I am,” Amy responded, “And I know you love it too.” Brent scanned the surrounding areas, ensuring there were no prying eyes before he looked back at Amy.
“Indeed I do find you quite enamoring. Where’s your carriage?”
“They turned the corner right as you came out. They’ll be back at the end of the hour.” With that Brent leaned down and placed a kiss on Amy’s lips.
It was a doomed relationship, Brent and Amy. The two had met by chance several years before, when Brent had been out to purchase supplies for Doctor Baxter. On his way to the store, Brent ran into the woman he would fall in love with. Rather, she ran into him. While fleeing some of her attendants, Amy had rounded the corner and tackled Brent. The two had fallen onto the sidewalk, Brent breaking Amy’s fall. They shared breaths for a few seconds, staring at each other, before one of Amy’s attendants had ripped Amy off of Brent. A second attendant helped Brent up and cleaned both of them off. The attendants had all profusely apologized for Amy’s behavior and begged for forgiveness, which Brent had given without a second thought. He knew it had not been intentional and he saw no reason to press on it. All he had asked in return was the maiden’s name, to which she responded with Amy Risa and an inquiry of his own name. The apprentice had gladly conceded his own name of Brent Hughes, kissed Amy’s hand, and left with parting wish to see one another again.
Indeed such a wish would come true, as if guided by some celestial being of love, as Brent and Amy continued to randomly run into each other, until finally Brent asked if they could stop meeting accidentally and start meeting intentionally. Thus, Amy and Brent began to meet in secret, slowly falling in love. The first time the two had kissed had been magical. It was forbidden, and that was probably why the two liked it so much. That day the two had managed to ditch Amy’s attendants, and were hiding when Amy’s dress got caught on some of the cobblestone. Brent had helped her get it loose, but Amy lost her balance in the process, causing her to fall on top of Brent. Before Brent could get out from under Amy, the lady had spun over and placed her lips on Brent’s. Brent had tried to resist, but he felt himself melting under the pressure of Amy’s lips. The two had never progressed further than a kiss, but that was all they needed to convey their feelings for one another. And then it happened.
As if it were punishment for their forbidden love, Amy’s mother came down with cholera. Amy had managed to convince her father to have her mother treated by Doctor Baxter so she could have an excuse to see Brent, but Brent no longer seemed as eager to see her following the news. Amy knew that Brent was nervous he had been the cause of this, but Amy slowly managed to convince him that this was nothing of his own fault. Now, it was almost as if nothing had ever happened. There was just one problem, if they wanted to progress further, Brent would have to ask for Amy’s hand in marriage. This wouldn’t be a problem except for the class system. Brent, as an orphan and a doctor, was several class levels lower than Amy, a proper Victorian lady from one of the wealthiest families in London. Brent offered nothing to gain when it came to marriage, and when Victorians thought of marriage, they associated it with politics not love. And so, the lovers were forced to hide their true feelings, for they would never be what they truly wanted. Maybe it was for the best, but it never really seemed like it.
“How's my mother?” Brent paused and released Amy. He sighed and shook his head.
“She's not worse, but she's not much better either. I'm doing all I can but…” Brent looked to the side and mumbled, “she'd be better off in someone else’s care. We’re not the best at our work. Most of our patients die.” Brent looked at Amy. “Please, take her somewhere else.” But Brent already knew Amy’s answer before it left her lips.
“Madder, you know I can’t do that. If I did that, I would lose my chance to see you regularly. And I refuse to give that up.” Brent bit his lip. He always felt so conflicted about this. On one hand, he loved to see Amy regularly, but on the other hand, as a doctor, it was his duty to give his patients the best treatment possible, and Amy’s mother was not receiving it here.
“Maiden, I-” Amy cut Brent off with another kiss. Brent could not protest such persuasive methods, and Amy was well aware of this. Curse women and their effective methods of coercion. The two talked absently for what seemed like no time at all before Amy’s carriage rounded the corner at the end of the street. And just as quickly as she had arrived, Amy was forced to leave. As she stepped into her carriage, the young maiden waved to her madder magician, and he waved back before turning to the building. Brent reentered silently, the closing of the door behind the only indication that he had returned.
“You need to make your move soon,” Doctor Baxter called from the other room. Brent stiffened and froze in place. “You act in denial of it, but I would be quite the unintelligent individual if I could not pick up on what is going on between you two. Trust me, you need to grab her now, because once her mother passes, Amy is going to be a hot prize on the market.”
“I highly doubt that will happen,” Brent replied calmly as he put his gloves and mask back on.
“Suit yourself. But be warned Brent, if you do not move your chess piece soon, I will move mine.”
Brent shivered at the words, knowing exactly what Doctor Baxter meant, and it was not a pleasing thought to dwell on. If Brent did not make up his mind soon, Doctor Baxter would pursue a vinculum with Amy. That was another thing Brent hated, golddiggers, and there was no denying that Doctor Baxter was a class A golddigger. With Amy’s family wealth, he would be set for a long time to come, both the doctor and Brent were well aware of this. If Brent had to guess, this was partially why Doctor Baxter was pressuring Brent to make a move. Doctor Baxter was under the false assumption that once Brent married Amy, the apprentice would turn around to give favors to his old mentor. Oh how wrong he was.
Nevertheless, Brent considered the words with true severity and decided it might be a good idea to give the relationship an official shot. He contacted Amy and requested to officially meet her father over dinner, so that he might be able to receive good graces and possibly, in the future, ask for Amy’s hand in marriage. Amy was overjoyed and instantly agreed to work it out. True enough to her word, the next time Amy returned, everything had been set up. However, as if the hands of fate had decided that too much normalcy had returned to the lives of the lovers, they struck swiftly with an attack neither was prepared for. It happened the night Brent was to meet Amy’s father. He was almost finished with his appearance when Doctor Baxter burst into his room, out of breath, a frazzled look in his eye.
“Margaret Risa…” he wheezed, “she’s deteriorating. I have failed to stop it with all my attempts. When are the Risas arriving? Maybe we can stall her out until they arrive.” Dropping everything, Brent and Doctor Baxter ran downstairs from the residential area to the location of their practice. Sure enough, Margaret Risa was on the doorstep of the afterlife. Madder grabbed several medical supplies, including a knife, a cloth, water, and some herbal medicines. Amy and her father were not due to arrive for another twenty minutes or so. He had to keep Mrs. Risa alive for that long. She could not leave this world without Amy seeing her one more time. Brent would not allow it. Brent dampened the cloth and placed it on the woman’s forehead before dripping some of the water into her mouth. He gently force fed her some of the medications, and for a few seconds she would seem to improve before the state would only to degrade into something much worse than before. Still, Margaret hung on, just barely, but her life was sustaining itself against death’s will. It was as if she knew her daughter and husband would be there soon, and she was rejecting death just so she could see them one more time. Brent dabbed another cloth over Margaret’s face when he noticed her lips move. He leaned down and placed his ear next to her mouth.
“I love you, Amy, Henry. I am so sorry.” Brent’s eyes widened and he pulled back, noticing a dull look in Margaret’s eyes. The spark of life that had been dancing there moments before was dimming considerably.
“No!” Brent shouted, “Please, Mrs. Risa, they should be here any minute now! Just hang on.” As if she understood Brent’s words, the corners of Margaret’s lips quirked up into a smile, and remained that way as all the life in her eyes faded. Brent clutched the cloth in his hands tightly, tears brimming in his eyes. “Dammit!” he screamed, knocking over a nearby table and throwing the rag to the ground. Doctor Baxter reentered the area Brent was in, carrying more medical supplies to be used to treat Margaret, but froze when he saw warm tears trailing down Brent’s cheeks.
“She’s gone, is she not?” Brent nodded silently, making no move to brush away the symbols of his sadness. He only lifted his head ever so slightly when a knock at the front door echoed throughout the house. Brent and Doctor Baxter exchanged a look. “I should go and inform them of the news.”
“No, Doctor Baxter, I should… I should be the one to do it.” Without awaiting Doctor Baxter’s response, Brent walked to the front door. He took in a deep breath, then opened the door, where Amy and her father, Henry Risa, were waiting. At first, both seemed somewhat jovial, but Amy’s facial expression shifted to concern when she noticed the tears tracing Brent’s face.
“Brent, what happened?” she asked softly, her father now adopting a face of concern.
“I’m so sorry,” Brent whispered, “I tried to save her, at least stall her out until you could arrive but… death’s grip was too strong.” It was a blur from that point on. Henry and Amy brushed past Brent to see Margaret themselves. Lots of tears were shed, and Brent did his best to comfort them, but he had never been skilled in such things. At some point, Amy and Henry left, with some men arriving some time later to retrieve Margaret’s body. Amy and Brent did not make contact for several weeks, a silence laced with tension growing between them. It was not until a letter from Amy arrived almost two months later that this was finally broken.
Brent’s hand shook as he read over the letter from Amy. It was a welcome letter, but the words still terrified him like nothing before. According to Amy, her father was going to try and marry her off soon, since there was little chance of a male heir now. Since there were still four years until she turned twenty-one, it was a safer move to marry her than to wait that long on the off chance that her father died. In most cases, she would have been engaged to the richest bachelor already, but Amy’s father knew that Amy had wanted to try and give Brent a chance. Henry was willing to meet with Brent and, if he approved of Brent, they could be engaged despite the circumstances. However, they only had one shot at this. Amy also informed Brent that her father already felt somewhat impressed with Brent, as Brent had done everything he could to not only save Margaret’s life, but also to try and extend it just a little longer for them to see her one last time, even though his efforts had failed. This impression was probably the main reason why Brent was being given this last chance, and he could not afford to screw it up. So the date was set, the arrangements made, and everything was put into place. All Brent needed was a successful meeting and all would be well.
The night arrived swiftly, and Brent could not prevent the trepidatious feeling that crept across his back. He tried to shake it off, but the premonition always returned a little while later. Brent found himself casting glances at the clock more and more as he awaited the carriage’s arrival. Finally, the hour arrived, and Brent straightened his tie for what seemed like the thousandth time. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, when Doctor Baxter turned the corner.
“Well, finally trying to settle in with the lady, eh?” Doctor Baxter laughed at Brent’s annoyed expression. He drew closer, making sure to keep his hands behind him. “I would be rejoicing if not for the timing of your charade.” Brent raised one of his eyebrows and opened his mouth to coax the meaning of this sentence out of Doctor Baxter when a knife was suddenly thrust at him. Brent barely managed to catch the doctor’s hands in time, the tip of the blade slightly ripping the fabric of Brent’s outfit.
“What is the meaning of this?” Brent choked out. Doctor Baxter let out a sickening laugh and slammed Brent into a wall, forcing the knife closer to its destination in Brent’s heart.
“You fool! Have you not put it together yet?” Brent’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the suggestion. “I guess not, you blind child! I’ve been after the girl’s fortune this whole time. I was hoping you would charm her into aiding us, but you took your sweet time, and I have a deadline to meet.”
It suddenly became clear. The day he and Amy had met, Doctor Baxter had pressed for Brent to go to that specific store. The subsequent meetings, all from the doctor’s urging of Brent to go to specific locations. Then Doctor Baxter’s overly suspicious eagerness to treat Margaret, followed by her subsequent death on the day Brent was to go out with Amy. It had all been a set up!
“You’ve been colluding with someone,” Brent growled, using what strength he could to push Doctor Baxter back. “You were the one who set all of this up! You did not want me to live happily, you merely wanted to live wealthily. But since I was taking too long you decided to take matters into your own hands.” Brent grit his teeth as a question rose to the tip of his tongue and leapt out before he could stop it. “Was the whole reason you rescued me as a child because you wanted to use me, you creep!” This caused Doctor Baxter to hesitate in his actions.
“Is that what you believe, Brent? That I have been planning this from the start? Brent, your parents were good friends of mine. Why would I not have taken in their son after the unfortunate accident? It would have been cruel and unspeakably inhumane. At least I have given you a chance to live, before I take it away. Do you not understand, my boy?” Brent did not want to hear any more. The words that entered his head, they were unwanted, and maddening. All he wanted was for all the noise that screamed in his mind to stop.
“Just stop!” Brent screamed, throwing Doctor Baxter back. He stared at the floor and breathed heavily, a crash rattling in the distance. Brent squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his hands against his skull. The noise would not stop, there was no solace from it, but somehow, one thought managed to escape the discoordination that encapsulated his mind. Amy was in danger. Brent’s eyes snapped open and he lowered his shaking hands from the sides of his head. “Amy!” There was a croaking laugh from the other side of the room.
“She’s nowhere near her, and her father has joined his wife. You might as well just give up now. My partners and I have already won, and you have lost.” White hot fury shot through Brent’s veins, and a scream tore from his throat. Brent threw open the front door and sprinted outside, ignoring the downpour that flooded the streets of London. He could hear the shouts of Doctor Baxter over the wind, but the words were lost in the storm. Charging through the streets of London, Brent arrived at the Risa family house faster than the boy had ever known possible. As if to confirm his suspicions of the whole incident, the front door was wide ajar and the gate that protected the home smashed open. Brent paused a second to take in the scene when Amy’s scream echoed through the late night air.
“Amy!” Brent called out, leaping over the wreckage of the gate and dashing up to the door. The foyer was abandoned, but Brent could hear the sounds of struggling in the master bedroom. Brent was off like a bullet, slamming his shoulder into the locked door. The weak wood could not stand up to the force of the grown man crashing with all his might into the door, and it snapped with relative ease. Brent winced as splinters cut his hands, arms, and face, but his own well being was not his main concern right now.
“Release me!” Amy’s sharp voice cracked as she struggled against the force of the two men pinning her down. “Please! Someone please! Help!”
“It is no use screaming, Miss Risa, no one will hear you,” one of the two criminals chided, “which is great for us. We would not want anyone interrupting us, now would we?”
“Are you sure the boss will be okay with this? He seemed very steadfast on having this girl as his wife.”
“Ah what does he care. For all he knows, that kid of his was the one who busted her. It would not be to his surprise either, given how much he knows about what they have done already.”
“I would be careful how you refer to someone, you never know when they might be listening.” The two men’s heads snapped to attention. The room lit up as lightning struck outside, Brent’s tortured brown eyes seeming to glow in the light.
“Well, well,” the first man said, lifting himself off of the bed, “so the boss could not dispose of you after all. Too bad, that just means more dirty work for us.” Somehow, those words both satisfied and horrified Brent at the same time. He knew they were true, even if he did not want them to be. Brent’s eyes flicked to Amy, who was sitting up in the bed, both men now preoccupied with Brent.
“If you wish to harm the lady, you must catch me first.” Brent ducked back through the broken door and led the men through the foyer. Brent was unsure where he was going, hallway after hallway he ran, but he knew he would need a weapon if he wanted Amy to escape with her life. It seemed the universe knew this as well, because the next room Brent entered was the kitchen. He spotted his weapon of choice immediately, grabbing one of the shelved knives, and turned to face his oncoming opponents.
“Oh, he finally stopped running! Maybe he realized how futile of an effort that was,” one of the two lackeys surmised. As soon as he set foot into the kitchen, Brent was upon him. He tackled the man into the hallway, and held him down with his free hand.
“How dare you even think of Maiden in such a harmful way,” Brent growled out. “I may not be sinless, but at least I have not gone as far as you have tried tonight.” With that, the man began to beg for mercy, but Brent would not hear of it. He raised the knife into the air and sent it straight through the attacker’s heart. Brent’s heartbeat picked up and a smile tugged at his lips. Sure, he had killed before, but never like this. It felt powerful, like no other life ending had before. Brent withdrew the knife and stabbed the man again, repeating the motion three, four, and five times. He felt a chuckle rising in the back of his throat as his fingers were coated in a shimmering red liquid. Brent was about to slice open the man’s throat when a hand grabbed his wrist. Brent turned his head to see the other assailant. Oh how pleasing, another victim!
“You are sick, kid. I never realized you were this twisted. Though I guess I should not be surprised, given the boss raised you.”
“Oh? What is that supposed to mean?” Brent asked, wrenching his wrist from the man’s hand and thrusting the knife into the center of the man’s chest, before pushing it up. The man coughed, spitting blood onto Brent’s face, but it did not bother him. Brent’s smile was the widest it had ever been for as long as he could remember. Brent ripped the knife from the fellow’s chest and pushed him down to the ground. Brent spun the knife between his fingers before throwing it into the man’s forehead. He breathed heavily as he stared at his work, enjoying the beauty of it before the morality of it all came crashing down when a voice piercing the silence.
“Br-Brent?” Brent’s head snapped up and he locked eyes with Amy. In her eyes swam an emotion he had never seen before when she faced him. It was not the usual warmth and happiness that sparkled in her eyes, but rather terror that reflected back at him. The weight of the whole attack came crashing down on Brent.
“How much did you see?” he whispered, still breathing hard as his heart raced inside his chest. Even now, in the horror of being caught for what he was, Brent could not quell the excitement that beat within him.
“Enough,” Amy replied. “Brent, I think you should go.”
“Maiden, I-”
“Don’t call me that!” Amy suddenly shrieked. Brent stepped back in surprise, his hands beginning to shake. “You… you monster! I never want to see you again.”
The whole world suddenly stopped in that moment. Everything in motion froze, except Brent and Amy. They were in slow motion, Brent collapsing to his knees, while Amy fled out of Brent’s sight. Monster, she had called him. That is what he was. Brent had just always hoped Amy would never see that. Whispers began to echo inside Brent’s mind, simple thoughts that almost seemed like basic human instinct, but they were not. They were Brent’s thoughts, telling him to pursue Amy, to kill her. Brent was horrified to find such thoughts filled him with joy and tears began to trickle down his cheeks as indecision warred in Brent’s mind. He was becoming lost in the swarm of thoughts that clouded his mind, when a sudden warmth pierced through it all.
“Madder?” an unfamiliar voice spoke. Brent lifted his head slowly to see a woman standing beside him.
She stood tall above him, about 5’7 with short cut black hair. She had shining sky blue eyes and pale, almost translucent skin. She was adorned in strange clothes, a long sleeve blue top that hardly covered her top. She also wore what seemed like very shortened navy trousers that revealed much of her legs. Her feet were covered with small white fluffy shoes that matched what appeared to be a white newsboy hat.
“I apologize for not having arrived earlier. Oh this is all my fault.” The woman raised her left hand to her mouth and bit her thumbnail. “Maybe I can contact Jason. He might not be in favor of changing this though.”
“Um… excuse me, ma’am?” Brent asked, confused as to where this woman had come from and how she had known Amy’s pet name for him. The woman looked back down at Brent and shook her head.
“Oh how rude of me! I apologize again, my name is Madeline, Madeline Hatter. I know I probably have a lot of explaining to do, but it appears like we will have plenty of time for that.” Brent frowned in confusion until he heard shouts outside of the house and realized someone, probably Amy, had contacted the police. He let out a long sigh. He would be hanged for this. “Well I guess it is a good thing you are immortal. Though Jason is going to have fun cleaning this up.” Before Brent could ask what the madam meant, several guards burst in. Brent lifted his hands into the air and lowered his head, putting up no resistance as he was tied up and dragged out to the police vehicle awaiting him outside.
Suddenly, it seemed time no longer dragged, but rather raced like a wild stallion. Brent was locked away, where his visitor that no one else could see would keep him company. He was not sure when it happened, but at some point Brent no longer introduced himself as Brent Hughes, but rather Madder Hatter. As Madeline spoke, Brent was filled in on what he had been missing out in the past eighteen years. Mages, immortality, special powers, and so much more. Somehow, as crazy as it all sounded, it made quite a bit of sense. Before Madder knew what had happened, everything made much more sense than before, and the day of his passing arrived. He laughed the whole time, like someone had told him a joke he could not get over. They tied the noose around his neck and the platform opened, dropping Madder, but even as his neck snapped, the man did not die. Madder expected everyone to be shocked, but it was almost as if something had washed over them. Before he could register what he had witnessed, Madder had returned to his cell, and it was the man that had been in the cell next to him that was hung.
Another year passed with Madder and Madeline talking, learning so much about each other. Madder learned about Madeline and her relationship with Death, about her son that was watching over her from the underworld, and about how he was her reincarnation, of sorts. In turn, Madeline learned about the death of Madder’s parents, his life as the adopted child of Doctor Baxter, and his love affair with Amy. When Madeline asked if Madder was over Amy, Madder would simply laugh and say he felt nothing surrounding her anymore. And to some extent, it was true. Then it was execution day again, and Madder watched more carefully this time, but just as before, when he should have died, suddenly the man in the cell next to him was the one that was hung. It was after this that Madder formulated a plan. He began to ask precise questions of Madeline, and what he managed to figure out only caused the madness of the events to click into place like puzzle pieces. Each time he was to be executed, the mages of time, space, and memories all coordinated to ensure it was not he that was executed, but someone else. The more Madder inquired, the more he realized how easily he could manipulate the events if he really wanted to. And so he did.
Madder walked with a purpose to his third first attempt at death, and he noticed the distortion this time that he had not before. It was almost as if he could see the mages that Madeline spoke of. A smile graced his lips as the noose was tightened around his neck, and when the platform dropped, Madder thought of the gates to Amy’s house. And, just as he had expected, he was there. It was just as he remembered too. There was no chaos and pandemonium like the night he had been arrested, but it was large and calm. The only difference was the lack of jovial atmosphere, it seemed quite the opposite this time. Maybe that was what happened three years after two murders took place in a home. Madder began to approach the door when he heard a whisper.
“Brent!” Madder frowned, recognizing the name but having to take the time to process it after having not been called it for so long. He turned in the direction of the voice and noticed a woman that could only be Amy peering around the side of the house.
“Amy?” Madder answered back. Amy raised a finger to her lips and glanced towards the windows of the house. She signaled him closer, to which Madder obeyed. Amy pulled him around the side of the house and she looked him over as if she had never seen him before. Then, without hesitation, Amy pulled Madder down and connected their lips. The physical touch reawakened something within Madder and he pressed Amy against the side of the house, kissing her with intense desire. He pulled back and stared over Amy, seeing how much she had matured in the three years they had not seen each other. She did not seem all that different, other than her frame seemed much more frail than before, and her appearance overall more lady-like.
“Brent,” Amy rasped, “what are you doing here?” Brent blinked a few times, feeling like he had just woken up from a three year nap. He gazed around before looking back at Amy. Had she always been this tempting?
“Is it not obvious? I am here to see you,” Brent replied. “I know I should not be here, but-” Amy pressed her finger to his lips, ceasing Brent’s voice.
“I do not need an explanation. I do not care. Just take me away. Please. I cannot stand being here anymore.” Brent furrowed his brows in confusion.
“Why? What is wrong?” As if to answer his question, a voice shouted from inside the house that sent shivers down Brent’s spine.
“My my! Dear, you did not tell me we were having a guest over.” Doctor Baxter. Brent looked up and locked eyes with his adoptive father. Tension crackled between the two. “Has the ghost of our pasts come to haunt us?”
“Baxter,” Brent spit, “what have you done to Amy?” Soft sobs began to escape Amy’s lips and tears traced down her face. Brent looked back at Amy and it made sense. He kissed Amy’s head and wiped away her tears. “Amy, it is all right. I am here now. I will rescue you from this place.” Brent looked back up towards the doctor. “And you called me the monster. You are nothing but a sadistic golddigger, Baxter.”
“Oh? And what does that make you? A man with a love for killing? You know what it is like to kill, Brent. What is to stop you from craving it in the future? What is to stop you from harming your little sweetheart?” Brent tightened his grip on Amy.
“That will never happen!” Brent snapped, “I would never hurt Amy!”
“Oh? Sure did not seem like that on the night you were arrested three years ago.” This rendered Brent silent. He lowered his gaze to the ground. To some extent, the doctor was right. What right did Brent even have to be here after his actions that night? Still, his maiden was in need, and he was not going to leave her here when she needed him most. Brent raised his head again and flicked his right arm. A three of spades suddenly appeared in his hand. Doctor Baxter laughed at the appearance. “What are you going to do with that? Bore me to death with magic tricks.”
“Not quite,” Brent replied. He concentrated and the cards quickly became engulfed in purple flames before disappearing. Brent closed his palm then opened it again, allowing the wind to catch the ashes. The ashes reformed into three large flaming spades that slammed into the house, creating a large explosion. “Now, come on, Maiden!” Brent pulled Amy away from the house and led her down the street.
“What did you just do?” Amy asked, holding tight to Brent’s hand as they ran away from the only home Amy had ever known.
“I can explain later,” Brent responded. “Right now we just need to get as far away from here as possible.” Brent scanned the nearby area and grit his teeth when there was no sign of his previous incarnation. “Madeline!” he called out, “Madeline, where are you?”
“Who is Madeline?” Amy seemed very confused by everything that was going on, and it was obvious that Brent was started to overwhelm her. “Brent, what has happened to you?”
“Maiden,” Brent looked at Amy and smiled softly at her. “I have changed in ways I think neither of us thought possible. I promise, I will explain all of this as soon as we are in a safer location. Okay?”
“You promise?” Amy requested.
“I promise.” That seemed to satisfy Amy, as the smile that once took up residence on her face constantly three years before returned in that instant, and it made her face sparkle in a way that Brent found more brilliant than he could recall. And then, just as quickly as it had came, it was gone.
Brent’s ears rang from the loud crack that echoed throughout the neighborhood. Amy’s eyes were wide and her whole body shook as she suddenly collapsed against Brent. Doctor Baxter’s laugh sang sonorously in the background as Brent slowly lowered Amy to the ground. Red blossomed like a rose against the bosom of her dress and Brent moved to rip it open, but Amy stopped him with her delicate hands. She shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes, and managed one more smile.
“Thank you for everything, Brent.” Amy whispered. She squeezed his hand before releasing it and allowing her eyes to become unfocused. And just like that, she was gone, taking Brent along with her. Madder’s eyes flashed with rage as tears dripped from his eyes onto Amy’s face. He closed her eyes and merely blinked before a strangling sound interrupted Doctor Baxter’s laughter. Madder lifted his eyes, watching the King of Clovers dig his thumbs into the doctor’s throat. Doctor Baxter’s mouth formed pleads of mercy, but it was too late for that. The deed was done, and so was the perpetrator. Eventually, Doctor Baxter’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and the King of Clovers vanished as the dead body crumpled to the ground. Madder’s gaze merely returned to the body of the woman cradled in his arms. Time stood still as he mourned in silence, only to be interrupted in much the same way he had been three years prior.
“Madder!” Madder lifted his head and spotted Madeline, her hands over her mouth as she took in the scene. She took in a few shaky breaths and shook her head. “No… this cannot be. Amy was not supposed to…” Madeline lowered her gaze. “Once again, it seems I am too late.” Madder remained silent, no emotion coming forth from his heart as he watched the display from Madeline.
“Madeline,” he spoke softly, “I have a favor to ask of you.” Madeline lifted her eyes to Madder’s and waited in bated silence for Madder’s proposition. Madder’s hands tightened on Amy’s arms as the suggestion left his lips, everything balancing on this moment.
“Can you have Amy brought back to life?”