• Chapter 2:

    A shadow came to stand at the edge of a rooftop just in time to see the young woman plummet headfirst down the front steps of the house. He watched as she lifted her head and tried to get up, but failed and lay there motionless. He strolled over to behind a chimney and opened a trapdoor. After descending through the connecting passageway, he exited the house through a hidden side door. Walking around the building, he came to see the young woman still lying at the foot of the stairs. No doubt she was unconscious.

    Quickly, he made his way over to her body. He knelt down beside her and gently turned her over to lie on her back. As he touched her, he could've sworn that he felt a harrowing feeling surge throughout his body. It wasn't painful, but dark and unnerving. He could tell that something was quite strange about this woman. It was as though some horrid element consumed her entire being. There was a dark feeling about her, almost like some evil force had left its mark upon her. He shook his head at these absurd thoughts. Since when did he believe in witchcraft and magic? True, he was a magician himself, but his tricks were always those that could be explained. He positioned his head just above her mouth and heard slow, labored breaths. At least she was breathing. He saw she had numerous wounds on her body, the deepest ones across her stomach. Then he looked at her side, where the rag she was wearing was darker than the rest. It could have just been a stain, but he knew better. He lifted up the rag along a large rip in the fabric and saw a deep gash, blood trickling from it.

    He took the unconscious girl into his arms and noticed that she was very light. He carried her back to the side of the house, pressing the hidden spring which opened the door. After stepping inside and making sure that the door closed behind him, he gazed around the room and smiled. The entire room, along with the rest of the small house, was completely bare, save for a small rug where the kitchen used to be. He placed the woman on the floor beside that rug and puled it away to reveal another trapdoor. After pulling up the door by a small brass handle, he descended through the opening, landing on a spiraling staircase. Trying not to jostle the girl’s body too much, he slowly lowered her through the opening, and closed the door by pulling on a wire. Descending the staircase, he marveled at the poor woman's lightweight figure. He might as well have been carrying a very battered rag doll.

    After reaching the landing, he brought her to a bedroom not far from his, only just down the hallway. It was the guest room, but he never had any guests to entertain, so he simply called it "the room". To be exact, it was the room in which he had imprisoned the young woman whom he had been obsessed with only two years ago. He would not even think her name, for that wretched name brought back vile memories that he'd failed to remove from his head. But perhaps he never truly wanted to remove those memories, for deep down he still had a heart for that woman who had eyes of the clearest blue and curls of the brightest gold. No, he would not think of her image, that image that caused his heart to skip a beat. He blocked out the past and focused his attention on the being that he still held in his arms.

    He was unsure of why he had brought her into his dwelling. She was human and he had separated himself from the human race long ago. Why was she to be set apart from the others, deserving his care? Perhaps he felt compelled to learn more about her, about why she sent shivers running down his back and caused dark clouds to form in his head when he was near her, for the entire time that he’d been carrying her, those sensations had not yet dispersed. To learn these things, she must be awake and in a state of well being. As was one of his quirks, once presented with a challenge or question, he would stay awake for days looking through piles of books and travel to whatever places might contain the answers he sought after, experiencing no inner satisfaction until his thirst for knowledge was fulfilled. That must be the reason. There was no other explanation for his behavior.

    The room was furnished with a simple mahogany bed, which was by an old set of drawers. On one side of the room lied a sofa. Beside that was a cherry-wood desk and chair, while a fireplace took up almost all space along the opposite wall. He supposed it was more suitable for her to rest on the bed than the sofa, so he placed her on the bed and then proceeded to remove his cloak and top hat, which he placed on the desk chair. After smoothing out his jacket, he walked into the adjoining washroom and came back out minutes later with a basin of water, a rag, and some bandaging. He set the items on the bed and lifted the girl up by her shoulders. He sat where the girl's upper torso had been and cradled her in one of his arms. Once again, that unpleasant feeling surged through him, almost as though it slithered in his veins and penetrated his very heart. He grabbed onto the hem of her dress and pulled it up over her head, tossing it to the floor.

    Despite the fact that this was a very improper act, he knew that it was the only way to treat the woman's wounds. What made the action even more indecorous was the fact that she wore no undergarments, allowing him to gaze upon her now entirely exposed body. Her womanly attributes were, dare he admit it, of considerable size and quite attractive. They seemed to be the only prodigal part of her body, everything else so fragile and dwindling away. For a brief moment, the dark feeling was replaced with one of eagerness, and his breathing quickened. He pried his eyes away from the sight, feeling his soul begin to corrupt even more with the lowness of his actions. He now understood why the girl was so lightweight. Her skin was stretched tightly over her ribs, as though she hadn't eaten in months. Almost every bone seemed to reach out to him, begging him to end the life of its host.

    One injury that he hadn't seen before was now in full view. There was an indentation in her right shoulder, and the skin appeared to be burned, as though a bullet had made its mark there. There were deep scratches surrounding it, almost as if someone had scratched and clawed it out. After soaking the rag in the basin of water, he brought the cloth against the bullet hole and tried to clean it as best as possible. He did the same with the gash in her side, which was most likely the result from a sword or dagger of some sort. Grabbing the bandaging, he pushed her upright and felt a series of marks on her back. Inspecting these marks, he found several long crisscrossing wounds. Recognizing them at once to be those left by a whip, he felt a sympathetic pang in his heart, knowing the pain that such a weapon could bring. After cleaning the new lashes, he wrapped the bandaging around her midriff, covering the horrible wounds.

    She actually could be considered as being engaging was it not for the numerous wounds that wrecked her body. Before he went to clean the ones on her face, he took off the cloth that covered her eyes. He supposed it had been in her hair and fell over her eyes when she tumbled down the stairs. Her eyes were closed, giving the impression that she was merely sleeping. He wiped away the blood that covered and surrounded her mouth, but came to find that she had no cut upon her lips.

    Shrugging his shoulders at the odd discovery, he stood up and laid the woman back on the bed again. He strode over to the chest of drawers and extracted from it a white kimono-like nightgown. He slipped it over the woman's head and passed her arms through the sleeves, covering her womanhood and filling him with a sort of relief. Satisfied with her condition for the time being, he placed the blankets over her body and walked over to the cherry-wood desk. He would leave a note for her in case she awoke before he returned. He pondered for a moment how he should begin the note, as he had no idea who the woman was. He decided upon:

    To whoever is reading this note,

    Do not be alarmed as to where you currently are. You are in no danger, as I have no intention of harming you in any way. I would appreciate it if you were to stay put in this room until I return.

    -Your host

    Nodding in approval of the message, he placed the note upon the set of drawers and left the room. He decided to leave the door unlocked, lest the woman become frightened upon finding herself trapped. He would check on her later.