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Chapter Two: The Artist

The Emptiness: A Story Told Through The Eyes Of A Sketch Artist

Prologue

Her youthful flush color had drained from her much like the very blood from her veins upon the bedding on which she lay. Such a foul image for one to behold, but in some twisted way it only seemed to enhance her exquisite beauty, like a lily on a grave. Today is April 16th, 1898. I am a sketch artist who lives in a small town called Slough, which is situated nineteen miles west of Charing Cross on the outskirts of Greater London. I am here to tell you a story. A story that will torture your thoughts by day and poison your dreams by night. And though I will do my best, there are no words that can be written nor brush strokes laid on canvas that could describe the stark and utter horror of the night that Annabel died. The emptiness will haunt you…

Chapter One: The Curse of the Virgin Canvas

The sun’s rays seeped through the window; I lay awake in the bed and smiled slightly. I pushed the covers down and rolled onto my side facing the one I love. Her long bleach blond hair and short white dress almost matched perfectly with the sheets on the bed. I leaned over her and kissed her, her side of the room was dark, the light only reaching the edge of the bed. I kissed her again and placed my hand on her shoulder.
“Annabel,” I whispered her name and she didn’t respond, I looked at her noticing something wasn’t right. I kissed her again; her cheeks were cold against my lips. “Annabel?” I said her name a little louder, more frantic. I pulled the covers from her and felt something warm on my hand. I glanced at the sheets and saw they were tainted with blood. “Annabel!” I exclaimed. Tears began rushing down my cheeks as I pulled her to me.

This is only a nightmare. Annabel can’t be dead, what’s going on? Someone wake me up! Please, please save me from this hellish dream. I held her in my arms close to my chest.
“Tell me I’m dreaming, Annabel please, wake me.” I cried out but she didn’t respond. The smell of the fresh blood trickling down my hands reeked. My Annabel can’t be gone, she can’t be. It’s hard to breathe; will I ever be able to sleep again? I began to panic. I kissed her again and whimpered as I held her lifeless body tighter.
Her body teased me; the one who was once so full of life now lying limp and cold in my arms, her pallid skin was still glowing in the sunlight. Blood began dripping from the corners of her perfect lips and I gasped for air. I trembled as I closed my eyes tight hoping everything would just end. My heart hurt, my body went ridged and I wanted pure revenge. But I was the one with the blood on my hands. I’m a monster! I did this…Annabel I’m so sorry. My dear, I’m sorry. Lord, forgive me! My stomach churned and I looked at my hands, blood trickling down my arms. Blood that was once Annabel’s now covered me.

Chapter Two: The Artist

 

A mad man is glaring straight at me! But I know I’ve seen his face before…I’m sure I’ve seen his face before…



Something’s wrong. Her glossy stare is making my blood go cold. Her gaze could make hell freeze over. I held her close, her body still lying limp in my arms.
“A mirror never lies. They know. Everybody knows. Do you not see what they see? A mirror never lies, I see what they see. Everybody knows, everybody knows…” Her gentle voice whispered and I looked at her. The thoughts rushed through my mind as I wiped the tears from my eyes with my sleeve. I got up; her body was only dead weight as I dragged her out of the bedroom. I pulled her body down the stairs and set her down near the cellar door. I walked back up the stairs and grabbed a knife from the kitchen.

I picked the knife up and the silver blade glistened in the light. Maybe I’m just going crazy, what am I doing? I went back to the cellar, opened the door and hauled Annabel’s body inside. I’m the only one who knows, this is frightening…but I can shake this awful feeling…I kept glancing around, it felt as though someone or something was watching me. I could feel their presence, something dark, and something that didn’t belong. Someone will find out…Glancing over my shoulder I finally set Annabel on the cold brick floor. Frantically I searched for a place, somewhere to hide her. I walked around, the bricks. The bricks are loose. I reached my hand down and moved one of the bricks out of place. I walked over to Annabel forcing myself to gaze back into her sinister stare.

I knelt down beside her and kissed her soft lips one last time. Tears dripped down my face as I gently closed her eyes with my blood soaked fingertips. I placed the knife into my pocket and I looked around the cellar. As I gazed around I got up and started to remove bricks from the floor, each brick felt heavier than the last as I removed enough bricks to hide her body. I started to dig the dirt that was underneath the bricks as the tears trickled down my cheeks. I sighed and finally reached a good stopping point; I dragged her body to the hole and gently set her down inside. I started to throw the dirt into the hole, it was cold. The whole cellar was damp and the loneliness started to make everything even worse.

I buried her body, placed the bricks back over and walked to the door. I opened it and took a step out to the hallway. Is it dark already? I started to think about it, I closed the door and placed my hand on the doorknob. My hands were sweating and I tried to lock the door. Part of me wanted to just run away and forget about everything, the other part of me wanted to see Annabel one last time. I locked the door swiftly and closed my eyes tight, my mind spun and I felt my teeth grinding together.

Another surge of the awful feeling trickled down my spine, it still felt as though I was being watched but I forced myself to ignore it, I turned and the urge to run scattered through my body. I ran up the stairs and walked outside, I ran as fast as my feet could carry me. I turned and the feeling of being watched shot me again, I looked around frantically hearing the last words Annabel had said to me. Annabel leave me alone! . I didn’t want to hear her voice right now; I looked towards the house one last time and saw someone standing on the porch. Who is he? What is he doing at my house? I have to go. I have to run. I turned and ran faster, I ran into the night leaving the grisly murder scene as fast as I could possibly run.

 


Date: 2016-03-03; view: 774


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