Wilhelmina A Novella

by Ronnell D. Porter

  ‘But she has kindness in her. She’s watched over my family for generations,’ Evonne pleaded. ‘I realize why you must be here. Please, don’t kill her.’

  Suddenly I realized that the governess wasn’t Evonne’s aunt, she couldn’t be. Gregor’s tale would make her much older than that. I recognized the scent in Evonne’s flesh and I knew that Elizabeth Bathory was much more than a distant aunt; Evonne was her flesh, her bone. Elizabeth must have had a family before she was changed. When she came to America she brought her descendants with her. She took care of them, watched them grow, and supplied them with money by selling orphans to rich demons.

  The heavy situation made me sick. And Evonne had the nerve to ask that I spare this woman, this Succubus that raped me of hope. My life had been taken because she was evil, vile, and cruel.

  ‘Don’t kill her?’ The rage inside of me clawed inside of my ribcage, tearing its way to freedom. ‘She ruined my chance of being with the only man who understood how I felt and made me feel human. He was all I had, he was all that was life to me. He came back for me when you and everyone else left me there to die.’ I approache Evonne and she cowered away from my menacing eyes. ‘No, I won’t kill her.’

  ‘Then why did you come here?’ Evonne asked warily.

  ‘I thought I came here to face her, rip her into pieces, but now I realize that justice brought me here, not anger,’ I said. ‘I’m not going to kill her, oh no. I’m going to do to her what she did to me. I’m going to take away what matters most to her.'

  Before she could scream I held Evonne’s throat in my hand. I forced her eyes to look into mine so that I could see the fear in her eyes. She deserved this, they all deserved this for being the reason that me and so many other girls lost our lives and futures. How many of us hadn't survived? How many of us had been abandoned by our makers after they were done with us?

  If Elizabeth Bathory’s family didn’t exist then none of us would have been auctioned or turned into what we were. Evonne and her family was the cause of the governess’ business, and so I would end it here.

  One quick stroke and Evonne’s scream turned into a gurgle. I wasn’t going to snap her neck before I drained her, I wanted her to feel every ounce of blood leave her body. I wanted to hear her whimpers and feel her squirm as she received her punishment.

  Everything was her fault. No matter how kind she acted toward me she didn’t care. Her leaving me there in a shed to run off and live happily ever after was proof of that. But I was about to rectify the curse of the Bathory bloodline right there and then.

  After a few moments her struggle slowed down to nothing, and eventually her heart stopped beating as her blood grew thinner in volume. Her heart finally had a spasm and collapsed. By the time I had my fill, she was dead.

  I dropped her like a dead fish, because that’s all she was to me. Her life meant nothing more to me than a trophy of revenge. Her pale face, staring at the ceiling on her back, was more than she deserved. The monster inside of me was enraged, stronger for it, and at that moment I felt that I wasn’t even me anymore. I was someone else, a completely new Wilhelmina.

  This Wilhelmina had no regard for human life, or anything else for that matter. What happened to the world was no longer Wilhelmina’s problem as far as the monster was concerned. I was powerful, and my rage could no longer be ignored like the rest of my existence; I would be heard. I would be felt. My wrath would tear anyone asunder.

  And I liked it.

  I was silent as I made my way upstairs to find the husband. I made sure that he was awake and aware before I pushed his head to the side and bit down. He only had time to squeal for a second before I ripped out his windpipe. His blood I could afford to waste, he wasn’t of Elizabeth Bathory’s bloodline. I made no din as I left the master bedroom, only a dark and slick trail in my wake.

  As I followed the strong scent of ripe blood, and listened to the sound of racing, frightened hearts, I immediately knew where to go. They must have heard something to alarm them. That didn’t matter; they wouldn’t be able to outrun me. They would be nothing but slow little creatures running away at the speed of a snail riding a turnip, just like that doe I saw when I awoke.

  However, I ran into a wall of that burning scent. It was her. She hadn’t left at all, and as I opened the door to the children’s bedroom I saw her standing with a small toddler clutching her gown. She tried to hide a crib in the corner, and she knelt low to urge the toddler back toward it.

  ‘Listen to Auntie Lizzie and go to the crib, okay Abby?’ Elizabeth said.

  ‘Wouldn’t everyone have liked to know that you were hiding a family? That you have a human family? It would be huge news in the estate. Except for the fact that everyone is dead because of you. Thomasine, Henrietta, everyone – dead!'

  'It was a mistake to confide in Rosa that I had great, great, great grandchildren. Now that she’s declared war, she’ll come for them,' Elizabeth said coldly.

  'The one person you trusted the most with all your most treasured secrets, the one you loved most as your proclaimed child and friend – the one who was devoted to worshipping you until you cast her aside - is going to rip your head off.'

  I was delighted to watch the governess, this witch, in such a bind.

  'That’s so tragic it’s hilarious,' I said.

  'Where is Evonne?'

  I licked my lips and grinned.

  'She's joined the others. Now she can stay at your estate like she was supposed to,' I said wickedly.

  'So you want to kill me, is that it?' The governess asked sourly.

  'No, I’m going to kill your grandchildren and rid the world of your plagued-offspring,' I said, fiercely, and I watched every reaction on her face as it morphed from anger to shock to fear. 'Once I knew you had some semblance of a heart inside of you somewhere I knew it wouldn’t be difficult to break it. You are going to watch me take away what you cherish most, starting with her.'

  I pointed at the toddler.

  The governess paused and her head slightly inclined over her shoulder. She could sense the same thing I had; a strong presence marching quickly through the woods behind the manor. Rosa’s army had arrived and the governess was trapped. She was going to watch me finish taking what was mine, and then Rosa could exact her jealous vengeance.

  The governess hissed and flew at me with a rage so furious that flames could have flared through her nostrils at any moment. She grabbed my hair and pushed me through the wall and into the hall. I grabbed her wrists and a surge jolted through my body; I broke them. I broke her hands off of her arms like taking a sledgehammer to concrete, and they gripped my hair like vices until I pried them off.

  She screeched as she flew toward me again. I grabbed her veil and tore it off of her head so that I could see the half of her face that she had left when I twisted her head off of her shoulders. She rammed me through another wall and onto the floor the floor of a study. She couldn’t grab me without her hands, but she proceeded to beat my face back and forth with her nubs. A swift head butt had her off of me in no time, and I was quick to get onto my feet and crouch for the attack.

  She got to her feet just as I thrust myself off of the ground. I soared through the room before she realized I was coming and gripped her head in my hands. My feet landed on her shoulders; I thrust again and jumped from her shoulders, through the gaping hole in the wall, back into the hallway. Her head came with me.

  I heard her body topple over in confusion as I held her brown hair in my tight fist. I glanced over my shoulder and saw her vile form crawling around. Even her hands tried desperately to find one another. It sent chills down my back; could nothing kill demons?

  I walked back into the playroom and dropped the head of the great, great, great grandmother before Abby’s feet. I made dead certain that her eyes were facing Abby and the crib so that she could see me complete my mission. She cried out, but I silenced her quickly. I made sure to be swift about the deed. They may have been Elizabeth Bathory’s of
fspring, but they were still children. They would feel no suffering.

  When I checked the crib for a baby, it was empty.

  ‘You,’ I heard.

  I faced the doorway and saw her there, in the shadows of the hall, watching me intently. It was Rosa.

  ‘I thought you died.’

  ‘I did, but I survived long enough to finish what I came here to do,’ I said.

  She took a step closer, and I crouched as a warning bark shot from behind my exposed teeth. She stopped in her tracks as she gauged me and the situation. I picked up the governess’ head, gaping like a fish out of water as she looked around with a panicked eye.

  ‘She’s yours now,’ I told Rosa as I showed her the head. ‘Her body is in the other room, it’s still alive. You can put her back together and determine her fate for yourself.’

  ‘You don’t want to burn her yourself?’ Rosa asked curiously.

  ‘I've already burned her in the worst way imaginable,’ I said. I wanted to reiterate the fact for the governess to hear as she rested, powerless, in my hands.

  ‘Very well then – we will burn the pieces immediately,’ Rosa said. ‘I am sorry about this. If you hold no grudge against me, then I hold nothing against you.’

  I simply answered by walking right up to her and handing over Elizabeth Bathory's head.

  ‘My lust for blood is over, for now,’ I offered as parting words.

  Rosa looked down at the head as the governess looked back and forth between the two of us. Rosa was just as quick and destructive as lightning as she snatched the governess’ eye right out of her face.

  ‘Here, take this as a token of our truce. Let bygones be bygones.’ Rosa said as she held the eye out for me to take.

  ‘You keep it. Consider it a reminder. If we ever meet again I’ll take it from you,’ I said with an impious grin.

  I walked by her in silence. When I walked out the back door of the manor, her army was waiting. Many of them were the governess’ slaves, chosen and turned at the estate. They would each want to take a piece of her if they could. They parted and let me walk by.

  I was vindicated and justified in every sense, and the blood on my lips served as a sweet victorious treat, but soon that wore off. Regret began to seep into my conscience in the deep darkness of the night as I wandered aimlessly through tree and wood until dawn.

  11. In Faith

  Being alone was worse than hell. Being alone with my thoughts was even worse than being alone.

  Every step I'd ever taken, every defiant breath and glare, had always been for Charles. I’d been determined to find my way back into his world, to see him again. I didn’t have to be a resident in Charles’ heart; I would have been just as happy being his moon, a satellite of his kind heart. But Charles was dead, and nothing could bring him back, not anymore.

  I was empty. My purpose had been taken away from me. I was more like a pet to Charles than a lover, kept on a leash of daydreams. Existence was nonexistence. Life was death.

  And for the first time in my life I realized just how pathetic that really was.

  Where could I go? What purpose had I in life, or death, now that he was dust in the wind over parishes as far as the state of Louisiana spread?

  I was a lost, soulless, and hollow creature now. Charles was lost to me.

  I pulled my red ribbon out of my hair and clutched it in my fist in smoldering anger. I was enraged because when it came to settling business with the governess it was a possibility; she was a tangible problem to be solved, and I could touch her with my very own hands and had done so already.

  But Charles could never be touched again. And the thought of eternity without the feel his presence, the sound of his voice, the sight of his smile, or his glorious compassion made me feel even more powerless than I already was. This riddle couldn’t be solved by any force on the face of the earth. His beautiful benevolence was but a distant memory, cold and still.

  This ribbon was all that remained of him. He had kept it on him for years, even when he thought he may never see me again. That alone meant that I was worth something, even if only worth a passing thought. I was worth something to Charles Abberdean and that was all I had ever hoped for.

  And now, as I mourned over Charles, I remembered everything he stood for. He was the face of forgiveness, of courage and persistence. He was the face of charity, of admiration, and the very essence of munificence and love.

  What would he think of me now if he could see me?

  My hands were crusted over by dry, sticky blood as I held the ribbon in my hands. My dress was covered in an innocent man’s blood as his wife’s life sloshed around inside of my gut. Their daughter’s head was twisted backward on her shoulders as her cold dead body lie in her play room.

  I became the very opposite of what Charles stood for. I was right when I assumed that I was no longer Wilhelmina. I was a monster, marred on the inside for the horrible deeds I’d done on this night. And this monster was laughing on the inside as it rode the rising tides of boiling anguish until I could take it no longer.

  I saw Evonne’s fearful eyes and I screamed. I saw her husband’s confused face and my shriek took the place of his as the memory of my hands mutilating him came into view behind my eyes. I dropped to my knees at the thought of murdering poor, helpless Abby in cold blood without a second thought, and I cried. I had no more tears to shed, but I sobbed.

  I heard a crackle and tear.

  I opened my eyes and looked down into my hands where the ribbon had been torn by my inhuman hands, ripped apart. I panicked as I destroyed the only piece of Charles I had to hold onto.

  The silky shred of my innocence slithered pitifully through my cold hard fingers as the last two strands of the ribbon gave up. The rest had frayed outward and away; the damage had been done. Just Charles and I had been one and then separated, I was holding onto the memory of him when it did me no good. I just needed to sever myself from him completely and continue through the world as half a being, half a ribbon.

  That was my resolve until I realized that this was not all I had left of Charles.

  The last time I saw Charles as a girl of only thirteen, the last time I was under my mother’s roof and my Abby was smiling and cooking for me, he gave me a present in exchange for my ribbon. He sat it on the counter, and there it stayed because I had forgotten to take it with me.

  If Abby knew that Charles had left it for me then surely she would’ve put it somewhere safe so that she could give it to me when her niece got me to her through the railroad.

  Abby was alive, Thea said so herself. She said that Old Lou Girthwright had gotten her safely to the next home in the path to the north. Maybe, by the scrape of my teeth, that box had survived. If I could find her then maybe I could find the only earthly presence of Charles I had left.

  I had direction, even if it was miniscule and literally hanging on two strings of a dream, and that feeling alone made me feel like a child again, sitting by my small window beside the vanity waiting for Tuesday evenings.

  Though I had figurative direction within my grasp, I had no earthly direction. I was alone in a thin tree line bordering a clear desert as far as my new eyes could see. I had no idea which direction was which. I had always been told that moss grew on the north side of a tree, but there was no moss here to reference. The trees were bare, nearly leafless, and there was no wind across the barren sands.

  I was lost. I had no idea where to even begin.

  As I trudged along the line between the empty desert and the thin trees, there came a clatter. A horse-drawn cart slowly made its way along the flats. There was an older gentleman riding point, nearly asleep in his seat as he encouraged the horses to keep pushing on. As I drew closer I could see his weathered features, his crow’s feet and the other crevices along his face, as well as his exhausted, bloodshot eyes.

  ‘Woah,’ he reined in his steeds when he caught sight of me standing in his path. The horses reared back frantically, they didn’t dare come
near. ‘Jesus, woman, where on god’s green earth did ye come from?’

  His Irish brogue carried the scent of his last meal, which turned my stomach. My first instinct was to leap forward and snap his neck, and for a moment I felt my body tense for the strike, but I willed my bones to bind themselves for the time being. I needed him.

  ‘Lord almighty, what happened t’ye?’ he asked. He saw my bloodstained gown and wild, ragged hair.

  ‘Please,’ I began, but my voice was higher than usual. I adjusted my tone before I pressed on, and he quickly hopped down from the wagon. ‘Can you help me?’

  ‘Of course darlin’, just tell me what happened,’ he said. ‘What happened t’ye? What are ye doin’ out here on yer own?’

  ‘I was… attacked,’ I said.

  ‘It’s those damned injuns, innit?’ He growled. ‘Let me take ye into Thomas Town,’ the man said.

  ‘Thomas Town?’

  ‘Well, the new folk’re callin’ it Lubbock, but ye’ll find help there. Are ye hurt? Is that yer blood?’ he asked.

  ‘No, no, I’m fine. I just need to know which direction is north and south,’ I said. I could be on my way much faster if I didn’t have to ride with him and his slow horses.

  ‘Listen here, ye’re in no place or position t’be wanderin’ around on yer own. Now let me help ye on the cart an’ that’ll be the end o’ that,’ he said.

  I didn’t argue because I didn’t want to accidentally kill him. I had no problem slitting another throat, and I was disturbed by that fact alone. I had no problem with killing people, men, woman, and children alike, and that bothered me.

  I sat on the bench of the wagon and he climbed aboard. The horses were off as soon as he rolled the reins along their backs with a crack.

  ‘Was there anyone else with ye?’ he asked.