Beatrice

         The prisoner ran up the hill as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn't notice his fatigue, or the thorns that tore at his feet. All he could think of was that he had to run as fast as he can, away from the sinking ship below. Only when he reached the summit did he look down and see the water finally and fully claiming the ship as its own. Many of his fellow in-mates had died. But one had to save himself if he could. And as he watched the last of the Prison Ship descend into the black river, he told himself he would never be locked in a cell again.

         The prisoner continued moving. The ship may have sunk, but most of the guards had survived, and it wouldn't take long for them to start checking if any of the prisoners had escaped. He had to find a place to hide. He didn't have to walk far. On the side of the mountain was an old mansion. It seemed uninhabited, considering the lack of care to its gardens. But he saw something white move across the upstairs window. Someone still lived there.

         The prisoner knocked on the old oak door. Nobody answered. He knocked again. Still, no answer. Just as he was about to leave the front door to find another way to get in, the old door opened, and he saw a girl stand before him.

         The girl seemed to stand out of her surroundings like the full moon against the night sky. Everything about her appearance was white, while there was not a single candlelight inside her house, thus making everything appear black behind her. She wore a white nightgown. Although she was young, her hair was all white. And her skin was so pale, it was almost white. She was thin and small, and though she seemed to be no more than fifteen years of age, it was like she was carrying the weight of the world.
         "G-good evening, miss." The Prisoner said, hoping she would not mind his disheveled appearance. "My... my ship sank, and I was hoping you could give me shelter for the night."
         "You must not come in. It is not safe here." The girl replied.
         The prisoner was a little puzzled as to why she said that, but when he saw her begin to close the door, he tried to get between the door and the door frame.
         "Please," He said. "I have nowhere else to go. Just one night."
         "It is not safe here." The girl repeated.
         "I will risk it."

         The girl hesitated.
         "Please," the prisoner pleaded.

         “Very well,” The girl finally acceded. “Follow me.”

         And the girl turned, and the moon seemed to vanish. The air suddenly went cold, as if the only light he saw went out. In front, her face and hair were white, but behind, her hair was ebony black. Just like the full moon, one side of her was all white, but the far side was cloaked in darkness, and that darkness disturbed him somehow.
         The girl led him to a large room with a four-poster bed. She lit a small candle on the bedside table, and turned to leave.
         “What’s your name?” The prisoner asked.
         The moon’s face appeared to him. “Beatrice.” She said.
         “I am Dougal.” The prisoner said. “Thank you for letting me stay.”
         Beatrice gave a small nod and left the room.

         In his fatigue, Dougal fell asleep even before his head hit the pillow. But he was awakened in the middle of the night by the sound of crying. Dougal was a light sleeper.
         The crying was faint, but he was sure it was Beatrice. He got out of bed, and opened the door of his room. The mansion seemed even bigger and more intimidating that evening. And the sobbing seemed to be coming from everywhere.
         “Beatrice?” He called out.
         And the crying suddenly stopped.
         Dougal tried to find Beatrice but the Mansion hid her well. In the end, he went back to his room, and slept a troubled sleep until morning.

         The next morning, Dougal was awakened by the wind’s sudden blasting open of his window.
         “There is a snowstorm.” Dougal’s head snapped to the direction of the voice and saw Beatrice by the door with a breakfast tray in her hands. “You might have to stay here for a few more days.”
         Beatrice put the tray on the bedside table and turned to leave.
         “Wait!” Dougal called to her. “You were crying last night.”
         Beatrice did not answer.
         “Why?” He asked.
         “…Luncheon and dinner will be served in the dining room.” She said, and left.

         He didn’t see Beatrice the rest of the day. When he arrived at the dining room, the food was already there. He explored the mansion, but he could not find her. But that evening, he chanced to find her in the library.
         “Please,” he said. “Don’t leave.”
         Beatrice hesitated at first, but decided to resume her seat near the fire.
         So as not to drive her away, Dougal decided not to bring up the crying he heard at night. “So,” He said as he took his seat opposite her. “Do you live here alone?”
         “Yes.” She answered.
         “Don’t you have any family?”
         “My parents live in town.”
         “Why don’t you live with them?”
         “Everyone thinks it’s better if I stayed here because of my…condition.”
         “Condition?”
         Beatrice didn’t answer. Dougal knew many prominent families send their pregnant daughters to the country to escape scandal. But not without a single servant. He did not press the topic, however, seeing that Beatrice didn’t want to talk about it.
         “So,” He said, changing the topic. “Do you like reading books?”
         “Yes, I do.”
         “What kind of books?”
         “I like novels… Romance novels.” Beatrice blushed. “It’s just too bad the latest ones don’t usually get here.”
         “Well, then, as soon as I get to the city, I’ll be sure to send you some.”
         Beatrice’s face lit up. “Really? You would do that?”
         Though Dougal still had no idea how he would get the money to purchase books, much less food for himself, he said, “Of course. It’s the only way I could repay you for your kindness.”
         “Thank you.” Beatrice said, sincerely. “Books are my only window to the outside world. They’re the closest I can get to knowing people.”
         “That’s not true. You’re a very beautiful girl. I’m sure a lot of people would love to know you.”
         Beatrice’s face fell. “Don’t say that.” She said.
         “Why not? It’s true.”
         “You don’t know who I really am.” She said, and she ran out of the library.

         That night, the cries were there again. And though he searched for her, he was not fast enough to find her before she stopped crying.

         For the next three days, Dougal stayed at the mansion as the wind and snow raged outside. He woke up with breakfast by his bedside, and he arrived at the dining room with food already there. For the next three days, he explored the mansion during the day, looking for Beatrice but never finding her. And at night, he always heard her crying. Then on the third day, he found her in the library again.
         “Beatrice,” He told her. “I…I’m sorry if I had been prying. I didn’t mean to invade on your privacy the last time we talked.”
         “That’s alright.” She answered. “It’s just been so long since I had company.”
         “Doesn’t your family visit?”
         “It’s been a while since they last did.”
         “Don’t you miss them?”
         “I do… I wish my father would have me back.”
         “I’m sure he would. I’m sure he misses you, too.”
         “No, you don’t know my father. He wouldn’t want me back.”
         The sadness on her face tugged at Dougal’s heart.
         “Why don’t you write to your father?” Dougal suggested.
         Beatrice looked up, surprised. “Write to him?”
         “Yes, tell him you miss him. Tell him you want to go home.”
         “…I don’t know…”
         “What have you got to lose?”
         Beatrice thought for a while, and smiled at Dougal. “Alright. I’ll write him.”
         “That’s a good girl. Now don’t be sad anymore, okay?”
         “I… I will try… I’m sorry if I haven’t been a very good host.”
         “Oh, you’ve been a very good host. But it would be really nice if you could join me over dinner every now and then.”
         “I will do my best.”

         The storm had stopped, and the snow had started to melt. In a day or two, he would be able to leave. He was in his room that evening when he heard Beatrice answer a knock on the door. When he went out, he saw her walking down the hallway, looking dejected and all alone, with a letter in her hand.
         “What’s wrong?” He asked.
“…Nothing.” She said.
         He was about to press her into telling him what was really bothering her when there was another knock on the door. Beatrice went to the door to see who it was.
         Dougal looked out of the window to see who the visitor was. To his dismay, he found that the person at the door was one of the surviving prison guards.
He rushed back to his room. He had to leave tonight.

         Later that night, he heard Beatrice crying again. This time, he found her.
         She was in a small room at the very top of the mansion.
         Beatrice gasped in surprise when she saw Dougal standing in the doorway.
And Dougal stood paralyzed at the sight of Beatrice, weeping, kneeling on the floor with blood from the back of her head trickling down her throat. A knife in her hand was poised before her heart.
         Dougal launched himself towards Beatrice.
         “What are you doing?!” He demanded as he pulled the knife from her hand.
         “Leave me alone!” She screamed as she threw him off and huddled at one corner of the room, her face buried in her hands, her blood-stained black hair facing him. “You’re an escaped criminal, aren’t you? Why don’t you just finish me off?!”
         Dougal placed the knife on a nearby table and approached her. “I swore I wouldn’t do anything that would put me back behind bars. Besides, I don’t want you to die.”
         “You don’t know what it’s like.” She said, sobbing.
         “Probably not. But Beatrice, that is no reason to end your life. Young women get pregnant every now and then. But you just have to move on and make the best of your situation.”
         Beatrice turned to him in surprise. “You think I’m pregnant?!” She laughed a humorless laugh. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple for me. Please leave now, before the prison guards come back.”
         But Dougal’s eyes had caught something the few seconds before Beatrice turned her head. He saw something move beneath the bloody mass of black hair. He approached Beatrice. And Beatrice, sensing what he was planning to do, backed away.
         “What’s behind you?” He asked.
         “Nothing.” She said. “Don’t come any closer.”
         But he held her tight around the waist, turned her around and parted her black hair.
         “NO!” She screamed.
         But he had already seen it. And what he saw made him let go of the girl. The girl dropped on all fours to the floor.
         Behind the black hair was a bloody deformed sneering face. There were no eyeballs in the eye sockets but it seemed to be looking at him. And there was no real mouth, just a hollow area, beyond its lips, but it made a gurgling sound that made it seem like it was laughing at him.
         Beatrice was crying hard. Her body was shaking violently.
         “Th-that’s…” Dougal could not find the words to describe it.
         “My twin.” She said between sobs. “I am a slave to her… She’s always in my head…whispering evil things…taunting me.”
         Dougal could not say anything.
         “Are you…going to condemn me, too…just as my father had?” She asked. Hearing no answer from him, she continued, “Leave now, Dougal, before the guards come again.”

         After a few seconds, she heard the door of her room close.
         And she collapsed on the floor weeping. Dougal would be gone by the morning, and she would be alone again.
         But then she felt strong arms pick her up from the floor, and warm lips kiss her forehead.
         “I will leave. But I will take you with me.” Dougal told her.

         And he held her to his chest until her sobbing stopped and she eventually fell into the most restful sleep she had ever had in her life.


         The mansion stood empty and desolate on the side of the mountain. She had lived here alone most of her life. But now she was leaving it and all the pain and fear it gave her.
         “Are you ready?” Dougal asked, stepping beside Beatrice.
         “Yes.” She said as she pulled up her cloak.
         And the two left the mountainside.



Used Talecraft Story-Creation Cards:
         Genre: Gothic
         Archetypes: Repentant Traitor, Outlaw
         Keywords: Ship, Lock of Hair, Cries in the Night, Slavery, Twins, Moon