Hail, Horrors, Hail!

[Amelia Jacobson]

“Awake, arise or be for ever fall’n.”

The ivory and silver head of the obsidian cane nudged into the bony small of her back. Amelia looked up from the carpet where her eyes had been resting, observing the thinning fabric down to the fraying grains. Her fine, lank hair had been cleaned and brushed; it pulled back smoothly out of her face in an interwoven spiral of tiny dark braids. He had dressed her for the occasion, mocking her with the utmost cruelty. A muslin gown of lush crimson red bloomed against her white skin, fitted tightly over her drawn-in waist and what tissue remained of her small breasts, floating over her hip bones and flaring out gently at the bottom like an inverted rose. That's what he'd called her, afterall, his little rosa angelus. It made her sick that he had found what she loved and used it to speak sweetly to her through the torture.

"Go in, you bitch!" Although spoken in a low accent, the voice was certainly not sweet now. Lord Cassius Than waited, pressing the cane into Amelia's back once more. He looked down at her from his great height, lush black and silver hair curling over merciless blue eyes, all beneath a pure white top hat. She swallowed bitterly, the hard rounded tip making memories of something else flash through her head. She reached out one of her childlike hands and wrapped her grip around the handle of the door that led to Doctor Bramsfield's office.

A chill shook over her, making her heart tremble. Could she go back in here? Bramsfield hadn't known where she had been taken, couldn't know. He would have noted her absence, surely. But the Lord Than was one of the Count de Rothsberg's greatest friends, and he always got what he wanted, for however long he wanted.

A white gloved hand crept its way up to her collarbones, wrapping slightly in the red lace ribbon tied around Amelia's neck. It pressed on her airway. The free gloved hand closed over Amelia's hand on the doorknob, almost like a lover's. His fingers crushed hers as he forced her to turn the knob. Just before he opened the door and invited himself into the doctor's office, Lord Than leaned down in his white overcoat, his lips brushing over the back of Amelia's throat where the bones protruded from lack of eating. She felt what little color that was in her hollowed out cheeks drain. "I thought we'd gotten all of that shrewish resistance out of you," hissed the Lord.

Then he moved her out of the way and walked into Bramsfield's domain.

[Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield]

There sat Doctor Bramsfield in a state of repose, relaxing with a thick novel in his hands. As the door creaked open, he lifted his head and adjusted his half-moon glasses. "Who enters my...oh dear." He said with an air of disdain. The look of the man before him disgusted him. This was so because of the horrid similarity to himself. He could see in the way the Lord carried himself that he was arrogant, self-centered, and prideful. All of the things he used to be, and still was with his mood swings.

He was about ready to reprimand the man for intruding on him without any warning when he saw a familiar face. His heart sank to his toes immediately and then soared back up through his throat in a matter of seconds before returning to a boiling pit of agony and anger in the hollow of his chest. He rose immediately from his desk, book toppling from his limp hands, and he growled under his throat.

"Who are you and why have you entered my domain unannounced?"

[Amelia Jacobson]

Amelia could hear the smirk in Lord Than's voice as he dipped his hat in a graceful bow, even though she couldn't see it. "My apologies, Doctor. I simply came to deliver a little package."

With that, Amelia found her wrist suddenly gripped in a gloved vice, being dragged into the room. She dared to glare at the Lord when his back was turned, but once he turned around briefly and saw her expression, the grip tightened, threatening in an instant to shatter the bones in her upper arm. She stopped struggling.

"I trust that you are familiar with Miss Jacobson?" asked the Lord. He didn't wait for an answer. "She was recommended to our esteemed patron as one of exceptional talent. I've had the..." his voice softened, "pleasure of having her in my company for these last few months." Lord Than stopped abruptly, his beautiful, poisonous eyes going wide. "But where are my manners! Allow me to introduce myself: I am Lord Cassius Than of Wiltshire. You've heard of me, no doubt. My mother is a personal friend of Queen Victoria, and my father is a curator and fellow of the Royal Academy of Art. Throughout history, my family has always paid a special interest to students of the arts, and this fetching thing is quite gifted." Than took the time to turn to Amelia and run one of his silken gloved fingers down her cheek and to her lips. She would not flinch and give him the satisfaction, but the urge to bite off his finger was tempting.

"I took this little rosa angelus into my home to be trained by some of the finest art and literature masters in all of England. Of course... It is a pity that she had to be returned here, where her talents are wasted among the rats." The tone in the Lord's voice was cynical. "Perhaps, if she were to overcome her madness, she might be able to sell some of her work to the outside world. Authoresses and poetesses are in deplorably high demand, it seems, although they never have anything to say. This one's words are quite diverting, however, would not you agree?"

[Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield]

"You sicken me." were the first words from Doctor Bramsfield's thin lips as he sneered at the Lord holding tightly to his beloved's arm. He stepped forward swiftly and slapped away the cold, gloved hand that ensnared her so tightly. "Upon entering my Asylum, you have henceforth relinquished ownership of this girl. You will lay no hands upon her, or you shall suffer a wrath most fearsome. And not only from me."

He wedged himself between the Lord and the inmate and stood his ground. He stood at about the same height of the man, if not a little taller, and though his body was slight and frail, he possessed a good bit of strength when he needed it. He would use what stores of it he had to fight this man off should he require it, but he felt that he wouldn't need it.

[Amelia Jacobson]

Amelia wrenched away as soon as Bramsfield freed her from Lorn Than's grasp, and she felt her eyes widening at the doctor's nerve. It was impressive. She could feel a mixture of gratitude and shock flit across her face before the Lord interrupted.

He raised his snowy hands gracefully. A gentle, seductive laugh rippled from his lips. "Pardon me, my man, I meant no disrespect. You've got yourself a fine mad lass in Miss Jacobson. And while I'm certain that she's getting the treatment that she deserves here, I'll not have you forget that it was I who clothed her once again in the fineries that she was accustomed to wearing back when she was still a part of the civilized world, and it was I who let her sit in on lessons with the young painting prodigy John Everett Millais. She received excellent medical attention while in my care, in addition to studies. Doctor Isaac Baker Brown found her a most fascinating subject, and she providing him with valuable information for his practices."

Amelia couldn't see past the Lord's white coated shoulders, but she thought she could hear the charming smile.

"Why don't we all sit down and settle this matter over some tea and brandy? You look like a very amiable man, Edward... Perhaps we might even invite Miss Amelia to join us...?"

[Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield]

"Amiable indeed. Patient? No" he said sharply, grinding his overbitten teeth together with building fury behind his eyes which blossomed red and silver like blood in a tin bowl. He straightened his back and widened his shoulders, refining himself to the most poised pose he could hold. He would not seem a man of no dignity in this matter.

"Now if you please, I request you make your leave, lest I have dear Vaudier over there remove you himself." He said in an offhanded manner, shrugging a bit in the process. His eyes were burning red with surmounting madness, and he snarled a bit softly, his feral side threatening to burst forth. In a sudden swing of moods, he was almost immediately shot down from his high horse, and he winced at his swollen pride.

Meekly, he shook his head. "N-no. I suppose a bit of brandy would do me some good. Miss Amelia will take tea, and will sit opposite you. No complaints, or I will have you removed" he said seriously, though his eyes were submissive as was his stance.

[Amelia Jacobson]

Amelia watched the rapid transition flit over the doctor with a sick pang in her stomach. Lord Than smiled, his eyes glowing like an intoxicating mix of sapphires and aquamarines. He liked submission. Liked it far more than Bramsfield knew. "Excellent," he purred. Turning to Vaudier, he waved in a manner that was both graceful and dismissive. "Fetch our drinks and prepare the tea, will you? I'll not have these fine people do such business themselves." He didn't even blink at the scowl that the Chaser threw him. "Go."

Taking her seat next to the doctor, Amelia wanted desperately to slide her hand into his underneath the cover of the tea table, but something about the Lord's gaze stopped her. She could tell by the most minute and involuntary signs that he was observing every move between the two of them, trying to gauge the depth of their relationship and figure out just how he could manipulate them. Amelia's lips set. She wouldn't have it. Two could play that game, and she had been manipulated enough by Lord Than in all of their time together. Seeing Bramsfield yield and become fragile was almost scarier than seeing him rage.

Lord Than sat down on a chair opposite the couple with a sigh. He plucked a flower from one of the wilted few in the tiny vase that made up the table centerpiece and twirled it between his fingertips. In a room nearby, the clink of china and swearing could be heard as Vaudier worked. "My dear rosa angelus is marvelously talented when it comes to drawing. I trust that you know this?"

[Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield]

"Her name is Amelia" is all Doctor Bramsfield said, growing irritated already. He didn't want to deal with this cocky, manipulative daemon in any way, and yet here he had made his own decision to allow him to stay. It was quite a dumb one, but nonetheless, he had made it and had to follow through. He merely hoped that Lord Than would make his leave soon enough. He was dying to hold his lover once again in his arms, kiss her lips, soothe her pain.

He looked up as Vaudier entered the room and thanked his friend graciously, accepting the tray and setting it on the table without hesitation. "Here is your tea and brandy" he said with the utmost of frowns, "Now take it, enjoy it, and please do be quick" he threw in the last part just to irritate him.

He, too could sense the watchful eye of the Lord, and dared not make any sort of move nor notion of connection to his most favored girl. That wuld land him in a world of trouble, and his secret would also be out. He sighed heavily and sipped his tea black, enjoying the bitter taste of the sugarless drink a little too much. He added brandy to the liquid and sipped again, pursing his lips momentarily as the strong alcohol hit his throat.

[Amelia Jacobson]

Lord Than set the flower down on the table and took a straight shot of brandy from the bottle into his teacup. He brought it to his lips, licking them as he did so. Amelia felt a wave of nausea roll up to her ribs. He was peering down into the cup with a look that she knew only too well, and before she could repress it, she remembered back to when that look had been directed at her.

It had been in her second week at the Lord's estate that he had seen fit to sit in on one of her drawing lessons. He had watched her from a back corner of the large, grey chamber as the Master guided her hand and taught her how to make smooth, sensuous strokes with her pencil. After about an hour, Lord Than had cleared his throat and motioned to the Drawing Master to attend him. They exchanged words in lowered tones before the Master bowed and left the room. Lord Than then walked around to the front of the chamber, stepping up onto the small raised platform where the Master had often placed objects for Amelia to paint still life renditions from. He had addressed her.

"Have you done many portraits, Miss Amelia?"

"Not a great deal, Sir, but enough to know the skill."

He had smiled. "Why! Then, you must draw a full one of me. There is nothing so great as drawing from life. It quite makes the pictures breathe! I doubt that you have had many chances to draw a detail of the human anatomy. We must not delay your growing talent. Start with me."

With that, the Lord had proceeded to strip himself entirely of his clothes, right before her mortified eyes. He stood, flawless and naked upon the platform, posed with his hands on his hips and his legs planted firmly apart. "Draw!"

She did as she was commanded, stumbling and having to start anew. It took much longer than drawing ever had for her, for Amelia could not help flushing with embarrassment every time that she lifted her eyes to check her subject. When at last she finished, Lord Than had come over to inspect her work. He had leaned in over her shoulder to where she could feel the heat of his body.

"Hm... It is very impressive, I must say, but it lacks enough detail." He then rose and took her hand, bidding her to stand and follow as he resumed his place on the platform. "Why don't you come here and get a closer look..."

Amelia shook her head. In the time that had elapsed, Lord Than had finished his brandy and was now taking up his cane to go. He stood in the doorway, waiting.

[Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield]

"It was...a nice pleasure, sir." Edward bowed his head when the Lord made to leave. In reality, he was far from impressed, and he merely wanted the disgusting thing to be gone, over and done with. The minute Lord Than had left, he stationed Vaudier at the doors so that he could not make his reentry unexpectedly. Edward then turned to his long lost lover and cupped her cheeks, his own face flushed with the near fury that had overcome him watching that sick, twisted being.

He stroked her cheeks, gazing right into her eyes, and nearly wept with relief. She was back. She was safe and sound, or at least more so than she was. Here, the doctors all knew she was a protected creature. There, she could have been raped at any given moment. He was just thankful to have his Amelia back into the picture, for it had been eternities since she had disappeared on him.

"Are you okay, my love?" He asked concernedly, leaning in to kiss her forehead, "What horrors have you seen?"e

[Amelia Jacobson]

Her lips parted, and, for a moment, Amelia made a conscious effort to speak. Instead, she leaned into the soft kiss that the doctor brushed against her forehead. It surprised her how such a simple gesture could make her feel so safe, especially when it was given by one that so many of the other inmates feared. But Amelia had gotten the chance to know Bramsfield enough to understand that he did have a conscience, even though a buried one that he could almost manage to eliminate at times. Lord Than had none at all.

She shook her head against the worn skin of his palms. Perhaps, someday, she would tell him what had happened. Would need to tell him what had happened. But for now, it was impossible.

The pretty crimson dress felt heavy despite the light muslin material. The spiral of braids that Lord Than's poor maidservants had worked so hard to arrange her hair in was starting to feel like it was trying to peel her face off from behind. The deep red bodice, drawn right up against the unyielding (also rose red) corset, somehow managed to make her feel both restrained and hollow. Around her throat, the red lace choker lay like a chain of bloody snowflakes. It was beautiful, and Amelia had always loved chokers, but right now, this one was reminding her of how she had come to know the name of this particular piece of jewelry in a literal sense.

Turning her dark eyes up to Bramsfield, the light caught in them, turning them so bright that they looked almost like hazel glass that was about to shatter. "Get me out of this," she whispered, indicating the clothing that was trapping her. "Please."

[Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield]

"Of course my love" he promised quietly, trembling, nervous hands working to get the girl out of her fineries. She was beautiful in them, but they were not to be seen on her any longer. He would burn them if need be, as they reminded the both of them of Lord Than and the horrors that one knew and the other could only guess. His eyes widened as she fell undressed before him and he blushed for the first time in years.

"Here's a shift for you my dear. Freshly made." He handed it to her and shielded his eyes from the view of her shyly. He didn't want to be impolite and stare at her, and so he turned away while she got comfortable in her loose garment. "We must feed you" he said urgently "I shall have my cooks prepare something at once" he promised, rushing off momentarily to alert said cooks who got to work immediately. When he returned he took in her weak, frail form "My dear...I won't question what horrors you went through. Do not tell me, merely let me comfort you." He said softly, sweetly.

[Amelia Jacobson]

The blush was surprisingly endearing in the older, sharp man. Amelia quickly slipped on the shift, a sigh of relief and lightness escaping. She worked to get the braids undone and struggled. Some of her hair knotted around her finger as it came undone piece by piece, making her look like she had elf-locks. Finally, it all hung loose.

After Bramsfield returned from alerting the cooks, Amelia slowly made her way over to him. She studied him through her lashes, picking up on the little lines of worry that traced over his proud forehead and jaw. Her little hand reached up to move a strand of fiery hair out of his face.

It was funny. With his angled form, as long as hers was short, red hair, green eyes, and primal aura, he could almost seem as faerie as she did. Just in a different way.

The thought made a radiant, impish smile light upon her mouth. He was trying to comfort her and it meant more than he could ever understand. Her fingers twirled a lock of his long hair. She could tangle it so easily... But she let it go and lay her head against his chest gently.

[Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield]

Edward smiled a soft, sweet smile. He stroked her hair gently for a while and then perked up suddenly, in a more energetic mood than he had been. He was no longer poignant or protective, rather now he was excited and enlightened. She was back! Oh dear lords after what seemed like an eternity she was back from the supposed dead!

He gently separated from their embrace, darted to his room, and returned with an ivory hairbrush that was his very own. A few strands of ginger locks were tangled in the bristles and he picked them free with a look of distaste. When the brush was clean again, he handed it to her and smiled. "I can comb it, or you can." He said, cooing a bit, "Either way let's get you looking just as radiant as you were."

He sat on his settee by the fire and patted the cushion beside him, sighing softly in relief. Lord Than had been a horrid guest, had gotten his nerves all riled up, and now he was still tense despite his elevated mood.

[Amelia Jacobson]

Amelia laughed at the sudden eager light that had darted up like a candle flame on Bramsfield's face. The sound was a bit rusty, it hadn't been used in a while, but it was merry nonetheless. She glided over to sit, her gaze moving from the cushion to the doctor, before settling lightly on his lap instead. Taking the brush from his hand, Amelia turned to face him as she began to work the knots out of her long hair.

A slight smile curved her lips.

"How were things when I was..." her voice faltered an instant, "away?" She continued, shaking herself. "Did anything happen? How is little Aeodhan faring?" Amelia searched his face, inquisitive, concerned, and ready to listen to all that he had to say.