by Amy Cross
Using a tissue, in order to avoid directly touching it, I move the ring over to the table by my bed, and then I roll onto my side. Tears are starting to fall down my cheeks, and I swear to God, I have no idea what I'm going to do next.
Jonathan Pope
1901
"It screams," I say, staring at the burning box as a faint cry of pain seems to be emanating from within the wood. "How can it scream? How can an inanimate object suffer?"
"Don't ask questions," Henrietta replies, her eyes fixed on the box. From the look in her eyes, one would think that we were staring not at a simple box but at some kind of religious artifact. "If we knew what was in there, it might be able to crawl into our minds and find a place to live, and there might be a chance for it to one day return. It could persist even as pure knowledge".
"I never thought..." Taking a step back, I watch as the flames continue to burn, showing no sign of abating. "When you spoke of the game as a living thing, I never for one second believed that it might possibly be an actual creature. Surely there is nothing that could live for so many years in so small a space? Could it not be some kind of trick? A clockwork device?"
"Perhaps".
"Or a child's toy?"
"Perhaps".
Staring at her, I realize that she believes neither of these explanations. She has clearly fallen for the idea that the box contains something living, and that this creature is itself part of the game's heart.
"Don't look at me like that," she says after a moment. "Whatever you think, I don't want to hear it. I'm sorry, Jonathan, but although I've tried to explain the game to you, I'm afraid you can never know the truth about..." She pauses, as if the words are too much for her to handle. "Mere words cannot convey the horrors of the things that I've seen. As Lady Red, I was instrumental in the running of the game. I spoke with... I spoke with the heart of the game. I saw its face. I'm trying to forget, but it persists behind my eyes. Sometimes I feel its presence, pushing on my mind, reminding me that it's there. I can only hope that its death will be final and complete".
"This is madness!" I reply, starting to fear for her sanity. "Someone has been playing a terrible joke on us both! How can you possibly believe such things? I always took you for a rational, intelligent woman -"
"Think what you want," she replies, interrupting me. "I'm quite certain that whatever was in that box, it was in control of everything. Now that it's dead, the game itself is over". With tears in her eyes, she turns to me. "Do you understand, my darling? The game is finished. We did it! We found its heart and we burned it until there was nothing left. I was the twelfth Lady Red, and you were the nineteenth Mr. Blue. Harrison Blake was the ninth Mr. White. We were each of us the last of our kind. We outlasted the game itself, and now there's nothing left".
Looking down at the ground, I see that the flames are finally starting to die down, and all that remains is a pile of ash. Whatever was inside the box, it has certainly been incinerated. Nothing could survive such heat.
"It's almost sad," Henrietta says. "The game was so old, one is tempted to mourn its passing. After all, I'm sure it had a noble purpose once, before greed and corruption took hold. I'm quite certain that Benjamin Edgewood wanted the game to be something that would contribute to the good of mankind. Sadly, whatever was in that box, it mutated over the years, becoming something darker and more foul. Something evil. Fortunately, one does not always need to look directly into the face of evil in order to kill it". Stepping toward the box, she kicks the ashes, revealing that the contents of the box, like the box itself, have been destroyed.
"One can still have nostalgia for the things one hates," she says quietly. "For evil, cruel things. One can still miss them, in a way, especially if they carved out a place in our lives. For better or for worse, this creature was a part of my existence for a very long time. I can't simply pretend that I never encountered it, or that it hasn't left a gap in my soul". She pauses again. "Sometimes, one does things that seem so right at the time, and yet later one can see that a terrible mistake has been made. A terrible, ungrateful mistake that has ruined everything".
"And now we run?" I ask.
"Soon," she replies, staring at the remains.
"But why would we wait?" I continue. "We've done what we came to do. We've achieved the impossible, so now let's get out of here before..."
We stand in silence for a moment.
"Before what?" Henrietta asks, with a curiously detached tone to her voice. Slowly, she turns to me. "What do you think might happen if we just stay here for a while? Do you not understand that the game itself is now dead?" Narrowing her eyes, she seems for a moment to regard me with something approaching hatred. "It's easy for you. How long have you been mixed up in all of this? Five, six years? I've been a part of the game for decades. It fed me. It taught me. It made me who I am, and now..."
"We must go!" I say again.
"Wait," she mutters, before kneeling on the cold ground and reaching down to scoop up the ash. "What have I done?" She stares at the ash as it falls between her fingers. "What kind of weakness drove me to this point? How did I allow myself to do something so stupid? Did I love..." She pauses, and finally she turns to me with a wild look in her eyes. "I love you," she says after a moment.
"And I love you," I reply, "but -"
"No!" she shouts. "I love you! Don't you get it? I love you! I... It's a mistake! It's a terrible, horrible mistake. I should never have..."
"Henrietta," I say, stepping toward her and reaching out a hand, "be reasonable -"
"No!" she screams, getting to her feet and hurrying away from me. "Don't touch me!"
I watch as she stops over by the far wall. After a moment, I realize that she has begun to sob.
"Henrietta," I say, trying to stay calm. "My dear. You must come with me. As you said yourself, we need to get away from this place. We've done what we came here to do, and now we need to go far away. If not for our sake, then for the sake of our child -"
"This child has ruined us," she spits back at me. "If it wasn't for the child, I should never have become so weak. All my life, I've fought to be as strong as everyone else, and yet eventually my own body betrayed me". She looks down with disgust at her own belly. "There's only one thing I can do to atone for my sins," she mutters, before hurrying over to the cabinet. After rifling through the drawers for a few seconds, she eventually pulls out a small silver dagger. "This child can't live! A child born of shame can't be allowed to -"
"Stop this!" I shout, managing to grab the knife from her hand. "You're losing your mind!" I tell her, taking hold of her by the shoulders and giving her a shake. "You're a strong woman, Henrietta, but you still are a woman, and you have a baby in your belly! You need to rest. These foolish ideas will leave your mind once you've had a chance to relax. Let yourself -"
"You don't understand," she sneers, as if she considers me to be beneath contempt. "The game was my life, and now I've thrown it away. For what? For you? I should have had you killed the moment I set eyes on you. Instead, I allowed myself to be seduced into this terrible mistake". Holding her hands up, she seems mesmerized by the remains of the ash. "I destroyed the game," she continues. "For almost two centuries it stayed safe, and I'm the one who made the mistakes that brought it crashing down! It was all I had! It was all that I was, and all that I can ever be!"
"We're getting out of here," I say, grabbing her arm and trying to force her back toward the door.
"No!" she screams, digging her nails into my flesh as she tries to push me away.
"Stop!" I shout, putting my arms around her and trying to force her to calm down. "You're losing your mind! You must calm down! If you keep struggling like this, you might hurt our child! You just..." After a moment, I realize that she's stopped struggling and has started, instead, to sob. I slowly lower her to the ground and she collapses in a crumpled heap, wailing with fear. In all my life, I have never seen a human being reduced to such a horrific state.
Taking a s
tep back, I try to decide what I should do next. It's clear that Henrietta is not merely upset; she has descended into a full nervous breakdown, and all I can do is stand and stare. Deep in the pit of my stomach, I have a horrible feeling that she might never be able to recover from this anguish.
Elly
Today
"Any type of stress should be avoided," Dr. Abernathy explains the next day as I sit in his office. "Physical stress, obviously, but also emotional stress. You need to give your body time to recover, which means total rest. I can't emphasize this point enough, Elly. I know you might want to prove something by pushing yourself, but you could do lasting damage. Just accept your limitations for a while, and focus on improving your lifestyle".
I smile uneasily. The truth is, I don't feel remotely ready to leave the hospital yet, but all my tests have turned out well and Dr. Abernathy says there's no reason to keep me in any longer. He's prescribed a bunch of pills for me, and I have to come back every two weeks for a check-up, but basically it seems that my heart attack was fairly mild and, as a result, I'm off the danger list. I never thought I'd feel this way, but I'd honestly prefer to stay on the ward for a while longer, just in case. In the back of my mind, I'm worried that I might have another attack, and I doubt I can avoid stress for too long.
"Do you have someone coming to pick you up?" he asks.
I nod.
"Parents? Partner?"
"Partner," I say, although the word immediately sounds strange coming from my lips. "Fiance, actually," I add, which is even stranger. I guess I just want to explore the feeling of being engaged before I decide whether or not to commit to Mark's offer. I'm still feeling kind of uneasy about the whole situation, and I haven't decided what to do. Still, despite all my misgivings, I know that deep down I'm excited by the prospect of having a normal, happy life with Mark. I want to be his wife, and I want to be part of his life. I just need to make sure that he's telling the truth about his feelings, because I've learned that the game can twist even the most straightforward of sentiments.
"I didn't realize you were engaged," Dr. Abernathy replies. "Congratulations".
"So..." I pause, not really sure what I'm supposed to say next. "I mean, I can go, right? Are you sure it's okay? If you need me to stay -"
"No, you'll be fine," he continues. "I'm sure your fiance will look after you. Make sure he understands that he's got to be at your beck and call for the next few days, okay? Don't feel bad about treating him like he's a servant. Let him do all the cooking and cleaning for a while". He smiles. "He seems like a nice guy. I'm sure he'll look after you".
"Yeah," I say awkwardly, just as there's a knock at the door.
Moments later, Mark enters the room. He has a look on his face that I've never seen before, as if he's actually kind of nervous. I swear to God, it's actually cute to see him standing there and looking uncomfortable.
"Is everything okay?" he asks.
"Everything's fine," Dr. Abernathy says, getting to his feet and walking over to shake Mark's hand. "I was just telling Elly that as long as she looks after herself, she's not going to have any more problems. Unfortunately for you, that means she'll need some bed-rest, and a lot of looking after. I'm afraid you're going to be run off your feet. This woman needs breakfast in bed, and long hot baths, and a total lack of stress".
"That's fine," Mark says a little stiffly. "I'll make sure she's okay".
"You'd better," Dr. Abernathy continues. "The last thing I want is to have her wheeled back in here with another heart attack. We're through the most dangerous phase, but you both need to be aware that there's a continued risk. If it's happened once, it can most certainly happen again. You need to make sure your fiance is able to relax".
Mark stares at me, with a hint of a smile on his lips.
"We should go," I say quickly, grabbing my bag of medicine and heading to the door. "I guess -"
"I'll take her to my apartment," Mark says suddenly, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You'll be okay there. I've got everything laid out and ready. We won't be disturbed".
I smile awkwardly.
"And remember to call me if you have any questions," Dr. Abernathy says as he leads us out of the office and along the corridor. "It's better to ask too often than not enough, if you see what I mean. Elly, if you have any pains in your chest at all, or in your left arm, you must come and see me immediately. Don't be worried about wasting my time. You can't afford to take any risks, and whatever you do, don't neglect to take your pills. They're going to help stabilize your body for a while. Without them, you're dramatically increasing your chances of experiencing another episode. The last thing your body can handle right now is another heart attack. I don't want you to be under any illusions, Elly. You're not out of the woods yet. There's still a fair way to go before everything's back to normal".
Once we've said our goodbyes and Dr. Abernathy has gone to deal with his other patients, I'm left standing in the elevator with Mark, making our way down toward the hospital parking lot. There's a strange, awkward kind of silence between us, and I feel as if things could go either way. I might end up kissing him and telling him that I love him, or I might end up running away and never seeing him again. Whenever I lean toward one course of action, I feel myself drawn to the other. I wish I could tear myself in half, and one side of me could stay while the other could run.
"So you're feeling better?" he asks eventually.
I nod.
"You look better," he adds. "Yesterday, you seemed a little off-color, but today..." He pauses. "Well, you look better. You look more like yourself. It's good to see. I was thinking we should maybe postpone dinner if -"
"No," I say quickly, keen to make sure that we get out of the apartment tonight. I need a distraction, and the thought of being cooped up in that penthouse with Mark is kind of terrifying. "I'm not an invalid," I continue. "I won't drink, and we won't stay out late, but I'd still like to do something, if that's okay". I pause. "Life has to carry on as normal. I'm not disabled. I just had a..." My voice trails off before I can get the words 'heart attack' out of my mouth. It's still kind of strange to consider what happened to me, and I've already decided that no-one else needs to know. I definitely won't be telling my mother or Jess.
"I'm sorry if I was a little too forward yesterday," he replies. "I think that maybe my timing was off".
"It's fine," I reply as the elevator doors open and we step out into the car park. "Your timing was fine".
"Just so you know," he continues, leading me over toward his car, "there's no deadline. You can take as long as you want to make your decision, and I won't pressure you. I won't be offended, either. It's a big choice, and I'd rather you take all the time you need". He smiles weakly, but I can tell that he's putting on a brave face. He must have noticed that I didn't reciprocate after he told me he loved me, and although my defenses are still up, I feel as if I'm finally seeing the real Mark. Then again, there's always the nagging doubt at the back of my mind, reminding me that I can't really trust my senses. No matter how sincere Mark seems, it could still be part of the game.
"Thanks," I mutter, aware that I haven't really given him any kind of proper response yet.
"About the other thing," he continues as he unlocks his car. "I've begun to set the ball rolling. I've been preparing for this moment, and I don't see why it can't be done. We're going to get out of the game. The problem is, the only way out of the game is to win, so I've had to come up with another solution. I'm going to destroy it all. I'm going to do something that no-one else has ever managed before".
I stare at him, unable to believe what I'm hearing.
"It's not a good thing," he adds. "The game destroys lives. It's an anachronism, and it should have ended years ago. You've got no idea how many people have been hurt, but it's time for it to end. I've got everything I need. There's still some work to do, but this time tomorrow, we're going to be free forever".
"You're going to destroy the game?" I ask. "What about
Mr. White and Lady Red?"
He pauses for a moment. "They won't accept my decision," he continues eventually, "so I'm afraid they'll have to make their own choices. One thing's certain, though. The game's going to end. If they choose to go down with it, that's their problem, but we're going to be free. I promise, Elly. We're going to start a whole new life".
I want to believe him, but as I get into the car, I find myself wondering whether he can really do what he claims. Although he seems confident, I can't help thinking that perhaps he's over-stretching himself. Then again, I'm not even sure I can believe him. I have so many doubts about Mark, it's insane that I'm even sitting in this car with him. Whatever happens next, I figure I need to keep my guard up. I've made so many bad decisions lately, and I'm starting to feel that I need to find some way to escape.
Jonathan Pope
1901
"She's resting," John the Pig says as he pulls the door shut and joins me in the corridor. "She's burning up, though. She's got as high a fever as I've ever seen, and I have no idea why. It's as if something's burning in her soul". He pauses to let out a long, foul-smelling burp. "Of course, I've only worked on men before. Never touched a woman. For all I know, this might be normal for her type. I mean, don't women tend to get a bit worked up about stuff? Maybe it's her time of the month".
"This isn't normal," I reply firmly. "She's in real danger. Tell me about the child. Is it healthy?"
"It's alive," he says. "That's about as much as I can tell. There's a distinct heartbeat, and I felt it moving under her skin a few times. Do you happen to know how far along she might be?"