SIX WEEKS AFTER
1
The dark house
Translated by Pamee
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Horrors Lie shadow
-William Ernest Henley, "Invictus"
"The sisters would like to see her in her room, Miss Gray."
Tessa left the book I had been reading on the nightstand, and turned to see Miranda stood in the doorway of his small room, as he did every day at the same time, delivering the same message delivered daily.
Tessa At one point I would ask you to wait in the hallway, and Miranda left the room. Ten minutes later, she would say the same thing again and again. If Tessa did not come obediently after some of these attempts, Miranda would catch and drag her, kicking and screaming, would go down the stairs to the hot, smelly room where the sisters hap espereban.
had spent every day of the first week that Tessa had been in the Dark House, as she had come to call the place where he kept her prisoner, eventually Tessa realized that they did not kick and scream a lot, just wasting your energy. Energy was probably best reserved for other things.
"One moment, Miranda," said Tessa. The maid icómodadamente swung in a bow and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Tessa stood up, looking around the small room that had been his prison cell for six weeks. It was small, with wallpaper with flowers and little furniture, a simple pine table with a white lace cloth on this one, where she ate her meals, the narrow brass bed where she slept, the cracked sink and porcelain jar for cleaning, the window sill where she piled her books, and the little seat where he sat every night and wrote letters to his brother, letters that she knew would never send letters she kept hidden under his mattress to the Dark Sisters could not find it.
was his way of keeping a diary and to assure itself that somehow, would see Nate again someday and be able to brag.
crossed the room to the mirror hanging on the wall, and straightened his hair.
Dark Sisters, as indeed they liked to be called, preferred that she sported unkempt, but his appearance did not seem to care one way or another beyond that, which was fortunate because it reflected the made her shudder. There was her pale oval face dominated by hollow gray eyes, a face in shadow, no color in his cheeks or hope in his expression.
wore unflattering black dress that the sisters had given him once he had come, his trunk was never a follower, despite its promises, and it was now the only piece of clothing I had. He looked away quickly.
forever I had to shudder by its reflection. Nate, with its beautiful appearance, was the only family that general agreement had inherited her mother's beauty, but Tessa had always been fully satisfied with her smooth brown hair and gray eyes sensible.
Jane Eyre had brown hair, and many other heroines. And it was not so bad to be high, either, higher than most boys his age, it is true, but Aunt Harriet had always said that when a tall woman behaved well, she always would regia.
regia did not look now, he thought. He looked haggard and dirty and used together as a scarecrow. Nate was asked if I would recognize if I saw today.
at the thought his heart seemed to shrink inside his chest. Nate. He was the only thing she was doing this, but sometimes I missed so much I felt like I was swallowing broken glass. Without it, was
all alone in the world. There was no one at all for her. Nobody in the world who cared whether she was alive or dead. Sometimes the horror of that thought threatened to overwhelm and plunge into a bottomless darkness which would not return. If anyone in the world cares about you at all, does it really exist?
The clicking of the lock cut his thoughts abruptly. The door opened, Miranda was at the threshold.
"It's time to come with me," he said. "Ms. Black and Ms. Dark is waiting."
Tessa looked at her in disgust. I could not guess the age of Miranda. "Nineteen? Twenty-five? There is something eternal in his face rounded and unwrinkled. Her hair was the color of river water, pulled back sharply behind the ears. He had bulging eyes like a frog and made her look permanently surprised, just as the driver of the Dark Sisters. Tessa thought they should be related.
As we descended the stairs together, Miranda walked with his ungainly gait, a shortened running, Tessa raised her hand to touch the chain where the mechanical angel hung around his throat. It was a habit, something that was increasingly being forced to see the darker brother.
Somehow the feeling of hanging around your neck relaxed. Continued holding it as they passed landing after landing. There were several levels of runners in the Dark House, but Tessa had not seen any of them except the Dark Sisters rooms, hallways and room. Finally reached the shadowy basement. It was wet down there, the walls were sticky with humidity unpleasant, although apparently the sisters did not care.
His office was later, through a broad set of double doors. A narrow corridor led in another direction, disappearing into the darkness, Tessa had no idea what they bet on that hall, but something about the thickness
shadows made her happy to never find out.
The doors of the office of the Sisters were open. Miranda did not hesitate, but went, Tessa followed with great reluctance. I hated this room more than anywhere else in the world.
For starters, there was always hot and humid inside, like a quagmire, even when skies were gray and rainy outside. The walls seemed to exude moisture, and the upholstery on the seats and sofas
always had mold to flourish. It smelled weird too, as the banks of the Hudson [1] on a hot day, water and garbage and mud.
Sisters were there, as always were, sitting behind his enormous desk sum. With his usual colorful, Mrs. Black in a vibrant salmon pink dress and Ms. Dark in a blue peacock.
Above the brightly colored satins, their faces were like deflated balloons gray. Both wore gloves despite how hot it was in the room.
"Let us, Miranda," said Ms. Black, as he was turning the heavy bronze globe kept on the desktop, with a chubby white gloved finger. Tessa had often trying to have a good look at the globe, something in the way the continents were in place, had never been right for her, especially the space in the center of Europe, but the sisters always kept out of reach. "And close the door behind you."
Expressionless, Miranda did as he asked. Tessa tried not to flinch when the door closed behind her, cutting off what little breeze there was in that place without air.
Ms. Dark cocked his head to one side. "Come here, Theresa." Of the two women, she was the kindest, cajoled and persuaded probably better than his sister, who liked to convince with blows and threats whistled. "And take this."
holding something: a piece of pink cloth worn tied in a loop, the type used as a headband girl.
things I was accustomed to the Dark Sisters handed him now. Things that once belonged to individuals, tie pins, watches, jewelry mourning and children's toys. Once the laces of a boot, and another one pending, stained with blood.
"Take this," said Ms. Dark again, a hint of impatience in his voice. "And Change."
Tessa took the loop. He was in his hand, as light as a butterfly's wing and the Dark Sisters looked at her impassively. He recalled that he had read books, novels in which his characters were on trial, standing on the bench trembled Old Bailey [2] and praying for a not guilty verdict. Often felt that she was being judged in this room, without knowing what crime was being charged.
turned the tie on his hand, recalling the first time the Dark Sisters tended him an object, a woman's glove, with pearl buttons at the wrist. He had shouted to change, had slapped and shaken as she told them again and again with growing hysteria had no idea what they were talking, I had no idea I was asking him to do.
had not cried even when I wanted. Tessa hated mourn, especially in front of people who did not trust. And the only two people she trusted, one was dead and the other imprisoned. They had said that,
Dark Sisters, had been told they had to Nate, and if she did what she was told he would die. Had shown him his ring, which had been his father, now stained with blood, to prove it. Do not hold or touch had left, I had taken when she had come to him, but she had recognized him. Was Nate.
After that she had done everything they asked. He had drunk potions that had been given, done the dying hours of exercise, forcing herself to think about how they wanted to do it. He had been told to imagine themselves as clay to be shaped and molded into the potter's wheel, as amorphous and changeable.
She had said that extended to objeros had given him, imagined that as living things, and removed the spirit that animated them.
This had taken weeks, and the first time he had Changed, had been so glaringly painful she had vomited and fainted. When he awoke, lying on a sofa with mold in the room of the Dark Sisters, with a spongy wet towel over his face. Ms. Black was leaning over her, his breath so bitter as vinegar, her eyes bright. "Today we did very well, Theresa," he said. "Okay."
That night, when Tessa had gone to her room, had been presents for her two new books on his nightstand. Somehow the Dark Sisters had realized that the novels were read and passion Tessa. They were copies of Great Expectations, and of all things, Little Women. Tessa had embraced the books and, alone and unattended in his room, he had allowed mourn.
It had become easier since the Change. Tessa still did not understand what was happening inside her to make that possible, but had memorized the sequence of steps that the Dark Sisters had taught him, the way a blind person memorizes the number of steps you must take to walk from your bed at the door of his room.
did not know what was around him in the strange dark place that they had order to travel, but he knew the way to him.
was inspired by his memories now, tightening his grip on the tattered piece of cloth rose she held. He opened his mind and he let the darkness, let the connection that bound to the ribbon of hair and the spirit within, the ghastly echo of the person who had once owned, is deserendara as a golden thread through of the shadows. The room was, the sweltering heat, noisy breathing of the Dark Sisters, everything fell apart as she continued the thread, the light became more intense around her and she wrapped herself as if wrapped in a blanket.
hormiguar His skin began to burn and thousands of small strokes. This was the worst part, when that party was convinced he was dying. Now he was accustomed to it and carried it with courage until full shuddered, scalp to toe. The mechanical angel around his throat seemed to tick faster, as if in rhythm with his heart rate. The increased pressure inside your skin, Tessa gasped, his eyes, which had been closed, opened with a sense of crescendo [3] on the rise, and then disappeared.
was finished.
Tessa blinked rapidly. The first time after a change was as if the flash draws water from their eyes after being immersed in a bath. Looked. His new body was light, almost fragile, and the fabric of her dress hung loosely, piled on the floor at his feet. Her hands came together in the face, were pale and thin, cracked fingertips and nail biting. Unfamiliar foreign hands.
"What is your name?" Demanded Mrs. Black. It had stood and watched Tessa down with his pale eyes burning. Almost looked hungry.
Tessa did not have to answer. The girl whose skin she was wearing answered for her, talking through the way in which the spirits were speaking through mediums, but Tessa hated to think that way, the change was much more intimate, much more frightening than that.
"Emma," said the voice from Tessa. "Miss Emma Bayliss, ma'am."
"Who are you, Emma Bayliss?"
The voice replied, springing words gushing from the mouth of Tessa, bringing with them strong images. Born in Cheapside, Emma had was one of six children. His father was dead, his mother sold water mint on a cart in the East End. Emma had learned to sew for money when he was still carrying a little girl. The nights were spent sitting on a small table in the kitchen, making seams in the light of a tallow candle. Sometimes, when the candle is completely burnt and there was no money for another, should take to the streets and sit under a municipal gas lamps, using the light for mending ...
"Is that what you were doing the street at night you died, Emma Bayliss? "asked Mrs. Dark. Finally he was smiling, running his tongue over his lower lip as if he could feel what would be the answer.
Tessa was darkly colored and narrow streets, wrapped in a thick fog, a silver needle working under a dim light yellow gas.
A step off into the fog. Hands spread of the shadows and grabbed her by the shoulders, hands that dragged, screaming, in the dark.
sewing needle and fell from his hands, the tie was cut off her hair as she struggled. A hoarse voice shouted something angrily. And then the silver of the knife blade flashed as he descended through the darkness, slicing his skin, drawing blood. Pain was like fire, and terror as nothing more than she had known. He kicked the man was holding, managing to hit the dagger from his hand, grabbed the blade and ran, stumbling as he weakened, his blood draining fast, so fast.
contracted in an alley, listening to the whistling cry of something behind him. I knew that was following her, and hoped to die before the reach ... Change shattered like glass. With a cry, Tessa fell to his knees, tie a bit shattered, fell from his hand.
was his hand again. Emma was gone, like a discarded skin. Tessa again was alone inside his mind.
The voice of Mrs. Black came from far away. "Theresa? Where is Emma? "
" She's dead, "Tessa whispered. "He died in an alley, he bled to death."
"Good." Ms. Dark uttered a sound of satisfaction. "Well done, Theresa. That was great. "
Tessa said nothing. The front of her dress was stained with blood, but had no pain. I knew it was not his blood was not the first time this had happened. He closed his eyes, turning in the darkness, determined not to faint.
"We should have done to do this before," said Ms. Black. "The issue of the girl Bayliss had been bothering me."
Ms. Dark's response was curt. "I was not sure she would match. Remember what happened with the woman Adams. "
Tessa knew immediately what they were talking. Weeks ago, had to change to a woman who had died of a gunshot wound to the heart, the blood had poured down her dress and she had changed back immediately, screaming hysterically, terrified, until the sisters had made to see that she was unharmed.
"has advanced wonderfully since then, do not you, Sister?" Said Mrs. Black.
"Given what we had to work at first, did not even know what she was."
"It was really quite a formless clay," agreed Mrs. Dark . "We've really worked a miracle here. I can not see how the Master might no longer be satisfied. "
gasped. "That means ... do you think it's time?"
"Oh, absolutely, my dear sister. Is as ready as can be. It is time for our Theresa know your teacher. "There was a note of glee in the voice of Ms. Dark, unpleasant sound that cut through sickness blind Tessa.
What were they talking about? Who was the Master? He looked through the tabs as Ms. Dark shook the handle of silk calling for Miranda to take Tessa back to his room. It seemed that the lesson was over for today.
"Maybe tomorrow," said Mrs. Black, "or even tonight. If we told the teacher who is ready, I can not imagine not being here quickly and without delay. "
Ms. Dark, leaving behind his desk, he chuckled. "I understand you are eager to be rewarded for all our work, dear sister. But Theresa can not simply list. Must be presentable ... also, if possible. Would not you agree? "
Ms. Black, following his sister muttered a response that was interrupted when the gate opened and Miranda entered. He wore the same look bored as ever. Tessa's vision bent and bleeding on the ground it was no surprise. Moreover, Tessa thought, had probably seen worse things in this room.
"Take the girl back to her room, Miranda." The excitement was gone from the voice of Mrs. Black, and it was all snapped again. "Get those things, you know, show you, let him be dressed and ready."
"Things ... it showed me?" Miranda sounded white.
Ms. Dark and Ms. Black exchanged a look of disgust, and came to Miranda, blocking Tessa vision of the girl. Tessa heard him whisper, and caught a few words "clothing" and "wardrobe room" and "Do
you can to make it look pretty," and finally, Tessa heard the rather cruel, "I'm not sure Miranda is smart enough to follow such vague instructions, sister. "
Make it look pretty. But why care if she looked nice or not, when they could force her to be in any way they want? Why care what his true appearance? Why would care to master? Although very clear from the behavior of the Sisters, who believed it would care.
Ms. Black left the room, her sister followed her as she always did. In Ms. Dark door stopped and turned to look at Tessa. "Remember, Theresa," he said, "this day, tonight, is what all our preparation has been." He took her skirts with both hands bony. "Do not fail us."
leave the door closed behind her. Tessa was shocked to hear the noise, but Miranda, as simpre seemed quite unaffected. In all the time he spent in Dark House, Tessa has never been able to scare the other girl, or get a surprise speech unprotected.
"Why," said Miranda. "We have to go up."
Tessa stood up slowly. His mind was spinning. His life in the Dark House was horrible, but he was, he realized now almost customary. Know what to expect each day. He knew that the Dark Sisters were preparing for something, but did not know what something was. Had believed, perhaps naively, that would kill her. Why spend all this training if it was just going to die? But something gloating tone of Ms. Dark made her hesitate. Something had changed. They got what they wanted from her. Would be "rewarded." But who would pay?
"Why," said Miranda again. "We must get ready for the Master."
"Miranda," dijoTessa. Suavemenye spoke of how she would speak to a nervous cat. Miranda had never answered a question from Tessa, but that did not mean it was not worth testing. "Who is the Teacher?"
There was a long silence. Miranda stared forward, his face pasty IMPAC. Then, to the surprise of Tessa, spoke. "The Master is a great man," he said. "It will be an honor for you when you are with him."
"Marry?" Tessa echoed. The blow was so severe that soon the whole room could see more clearly. Miranda, the carpet on the floor with blood, the heavy bronze globe on the desktop, still tilted in the position that Ms. Black had left. "Me? But ... who is he? "
" He's a great man, " Miranda said again. "It will be an honor." Tessa is moved. "It should come with me now."
"No." Tessa moved away from the other girl back until your lower back against the desk dolorosomanete hit. He looked around desperately. He could run but could never happen to Miranda to the door, no windows, no Pueta to other rooms. If he was hiding behind the desk, Miranda simply dragging and take her out would lead to his room. "Miranda, please."
"should come with me now," Miranda repeated; Tessa almost reached. Tessa could see herself reflected in the black pupils of the eyes of another girl, I could smell the faint, bitter, almost charred smell that clung to clothing and skin for Miranda. "You must ..."
With strength he did not know he possessed, Tessa took the bronze base of the globe on escritotrio, lifted it and threw it with all his might at the head of Miranda.
Joining a nasty sound. Miranda staggered back ... and then straightened.
Tessa screamed and dropped the globe, staring, the whole left side Miranda's face was crushed like a paper mask that had been crushed on one side. His cheek was flattened, mashed his lip against his teeth. But there was no blood, blood at all.
"should come with me now," said Miranda, in the same flat tone he always used. Tessa gasped.
"It should come ... must ... d-de-de-de-deeee ...."
Miranda's voice trembled and broke, degenerating into a stream of confusion. Tessa is moved, then abruptly stepped back, twisting and stumbling. Tessa moved away from desk and began to back away as the apple wound spinning, faster and faster. Miranda moved around the room like a staggering drunk, still screaming, and slammed into the back wall, which seemed to stun. He dropped to the ground and lay still.
Tessa ran out the door into the corridor beyond, faltering only once, just outside the room, to look back. In that brief moment it seemed as if a thread of black smoke rising from the prone body of Miranda, but there was no time to look. Tessa rushed down the hall, leaving the door hanging open behind her.
He ran down the stairs and ran by them, almost tripping over her skirts and painfully banging his knee in one of the steps. He screamed and rolled forward, the first landing, where he rushed down the hall. It stretched ahead of her, long and curved, disappearing into the shadows. As he ran, he saw that was lined with doors. He stopped and tried with one, but it was closed, and the next and the next after that.
Another set of stairs down to the end of the hall. Tessa ran through them and found in input. It seemed as if I had a great time, the marble floor was torn and stained, and the windows were covered with curtains. A bit of light streamed through the lace, lighting up a huge door.
Tessa's heart leaped. He dove for the handle, grasping, and threw the door open.
Beyond was a narrow cobbled street lined with rows of terraced houses on either side. The smell of the city came as a blow to Tessa, had been so long since he had breathed the air outside. He was about to darken the sky of blue light of dusk, obscured by fog patches .. in the distance I could hear voices, the cries of children playing, the clatter of hooves. But here the street was almost deserted, except for a man leaning against a nearby gas lamp, reading a newspaper at that light.
Tessa ran down the steps and walked toward the stranger, taking him by the sleeve.
"Please, sir ... if you could help ..."
He turned and looked at her.
Tessa gasped. His face was as white as it had waxy was the first time I'd seen in the dock at Southampton, his eyes bulging even reminded him of Miranda, and his teeth gleamed like metal when he smiled.
was the driver of the Dark Sisters.
Tessa turned to run, but it was too late.
_________________
[1] River of New York.
[2] The Central Criminal Court in England, commonly known as the Old Bailey.
[3] Excerpt from a musical composition that runs gradually increasing the intensity.
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