"We've got to get out of here..."
Kathryn Devencourt stumbled out of the parlour and up the old set of servant's steps which ran around the back of the house, avoiding the main part of the building.
"Come on, Mary!"
She grabbed at the young maid's sleeve, dragging her along behind, the two women finding it hard to run in their long skirts, but after everything they had just witnessed, they were determined to at least try.
Their footsteps echoed hollowly on the cold stone floor as they skittered like two frightened shadows up towards the first floor of the grand old house in which they lived, the estate having been home to the Devencourt family for seven generations. The study was where Robert- Kathryn's husband of two months- had said to meet them, before he and the other men of the house had gathered any weapons they could find, and had set off after whatever it was that had left the bloody remains of the scullery maid lying on the courtyard steps.
Most of the staff had gone back to their own quarters for the night, before the attack, and whatever unfortunate errand the poor murdered girl had been forced to run, the look of sheer terror on her face had been enough for those who had found her to realise that her last moments had not been at all peaceful.
"I can hear it...I can hear it..." Mary breathed, her voice echoing in the small passageway, making her words sound all the more distressing.
"It's just in your mind, Mary. Do hurry, there's a good girl."
The lady of the house gripped her maid's hand firmly enough to prove she would not be having any nonsense, and continued to pull her along. But then, Kathryn could hardly blame the poor girl for being so frightened. As they had been making their way to a safer part of the house they had found the gardener- pitchfork still in hand- with his throat torn out, thrown across the kitchen stove, bloody paw-prints everywhere. That was enough to scare anyone senseless.
"Will Sir Robert know what to do?"
"I hope so," Kathryn replied, trying to keep both their spirits up, as she had no idea if the screams they had heard as they fled through the house had been ones of her husband or of anyone else unfortunate enough to come across this evil creature.
"The curse...I never thought it was true..."
"Mary...hush," Kathryn replied warningly, checking that everything was still and silent before running from doorway to doorway and up yet another flight of stairs. But the girl carried on regardless, her large brown eyes reflecting her anxiety.
"My father told me the story when I was little, to make sure I did not stay out late at night. He said that every ten years a creature would come to this place, a beast, damned and with a lust for human blood. It would prey on the innocent, for all eternity, or until one pure of heart could have the courage to destroy it for good."
"Folk-law and superstition," Kathryn uttered. "I have heard many such tales, all the same. They are stories to scare children and nothing more."
"Then what is that creature my lady, what IS that thing?"
Kathryn turned round sharply and gripped Mary's wrist hard, making the girl almost yelp from the pinching pain.
"Our only hope to survive this night is to keep our heads. When we found Graveston, God rest his soul, I saw blood, dark thick blood- which was not his own- also on the kitchen floor. The shots we heard being fired must have injured this...thing...which means if it can be hurt, then it can be killed too. You also saw how frightened Graveston was when we left the men...fear is what it follows, it can smell it, I am sure. And I will not let this cursed beast, if that is what it is, get the better of me. I am the lady of this house and I will not begin my life here as either a slave to my own fear, or as a corpse. Do I make myself clear?"
Mary bobbed her head, gulping hard, her mistress's eyes burning her.
"Yes m'arm."
"Good. Now we must find Robert."
With a determined fire burning from the very core of her soul, Kathryn made her way out onto the main landing of the second floor. The study was just round the corner, the master bedroom to their left. They passed one of the high windows and as Mary looked out, she saw yet another body littering the entrance, a torch still smouldering beside it, the main doors looking to have been smashed open like they were little more than matchwood. Whatever it was that was hunting them, it certainly wasn't human.
"Kathryn is that you?"
The young woman jumped, her hand going to her heart.
"Robert?"
From around the corner, a previously well dressed young man appeared, his shirt and jacket now caked in dirt and blood. By his side he carried a beautiful basket-hilt rapier, in his hand, a rifle. He seemed comfortable with both, and it was only due to his prowess in the fighting arts that he had survived up until now and had saved the lives he had.
"Where are the others?"
Sir Robert gladly grasped his wife's hand, holding her close to him for a moment. She was safe, and so was Mary. The two briefly looked at each other for a moment, wanting to continue their embrace yet knew they had little time to express their feelings for each other, their reasons justified or not.
"The ones who are left I sent down to the cellars," Robert informed them quickly, "The doors are strong and there are things they can barricade the entrance with. But even if that fails there is a passage down there which will lead them away from here, to Garrison's farm, should the worse come to the worst. My great grandfather had it made during the wars, as another way out, just incase. Well, it was either that or he foresaw this day..."
"And what of us?"
"I left a distraction for the creature, to gain us some time so that we can get down to the horses in the stables. We can ride to the town and raise the alarm. I took all the fresh meat from the kitchens and laid it down in the hallway, sadly poor Graveston lost his life defending me there. I managed to shoot the damn thing before it got me though."
Kathryn looked at Mary knowingly.
"Come," Robert beaconed them, "This way. Even you do not know all the secret passages this place has, Mary. Do not be frightened dear child, we will away long before-"
