Micks
Unlucky Member
@Sol The Hastag
Anne hurried to finish dusting all of the paintings in the castle so that she might have time for a short conversation with Catherine before they had to prepare for the lunch hour. As she worked, one of Lord Kent’s personal guards passed by, leering at her. Just keep your head down, Anne – he won’t bother you. As she finished the last of the paintings, her excitement grew at the thought of seeing Catherine - it was a rare surprise when they could get together in person; the kitchen maids and the other servants didn’t see much of each other – there was always work to be done in Lord Kent’s castle.
Anne was so thrilled upon finishing, that she almost ran to the hallway outside the kitchen. Catherine entered from the kitchen after a few seconds.
“Cather-“ Anne began.
But the steward interrupted her.
“Anne! Her Ladyship needs her chamber pot emptied.”
Her heart sunk at the missed opportunity. “Yes, ma’am”
Later that evening, after the masters of the house had retired, Anne was tending to one of the fireplaces when the guard who had leered at her grabbed her arm.
“Lord Kent wants to see you in his chambers” he growled with an ominous smile.
Anne was overcome with fear as the guard prodded her upstairs to Lord Kent’s bedroom. He had thrown the last girl he had called to his room out of the window – three stories below. As they entered the extravagant room, Lord Kent gazed at Anne for a moment. “You chose a good one this time, Ned!” he exclaimed. “You can leave now.”
“Come here girl.” Anne hesitantly approached, stopping before she was within his reach. Before she could react he lunged for her, ripping the sleeve and shoulder of her dress. She ran to the table in the corner of the room, taking the chair in her unsteady hands, trying to find the courage to defend herself. As the snarled words came out of her mouth, she couldn’t believe she was saying them “I would rather die than be defiled by a filthy bastard like you!” Lord Kent stopped short, hesitating, and then retorted maniacally “Even better you little wench!”
He started towards her, but Anne smashed the chair over his head. Both fell to the ground from the force – Anne, panicking, freed herself and struck him again as he moaned. Everything went silent. I have to run. Run, Anne! she thought as she overcame the shock of what she had just done.
She could hear the guards shouting as they pursued her – they were approaching rapidly; she knew she had no chance of escape, but she kept running. As she ran through the servants’ corridor, Catherine came out of one of the rooms, drawn by the commotion. Anne desperately wanted to spend her last moments alive with Catherine, the only friend she’d ever had, but something in her commanded her to live, to run. She only afforded her a panicked glance, trying to communicate all of the love she had to her dear friend.
Rushing past, she was about to round the corner when she heard a crash. Anne turned just in time to see the cupboard crushing most of the guards and Catherine folding over around the sword embedded in her stomach. It seemed as though time had stopped for Anne as she grasped what was happening – she wanted to scream, but even more, she wanted to die alongside Catherine because any world without her wasn’t worth living in. Except again, something deep inside her willed her to survive. Her legs moved, almost without command.
Anne had escaped outside the walls of the castle, and was running through the forest to the East. She could hear the hooves of the horses closing in. Tears were streaking her face as she ran blindly in the dark, narrowly avoiding trees and brambles. She began to slow down – she knew there was a trench nearby. The older servants used to tell stories about it during the meals – that it had no bottom and that no one had ever survived the fall into its depths.
As she entered an opening in the trees, she stopped just short of falling into the trench. She could hear the horses coming and see the light of the torches flickering. She began to panic as she realized her legs could not carry her any farther. After failing to produce a plan, she resigned herself to death. But I will not allow those pigs the pleasure; I’ll die on my own terms. The guards were upon her, but before they could reach her, she threw herself into the trench. Her last thought was that Catherine had died for nothing.
Anne hurried to finish dusting all of the paintings in the castle so that she might have time for a short conversation with Catherine before they had to prepare for the lunch hour. As she worked, one of Lord Kent’s personal guards passed by, leering at her. Just keep your head down, Anne – he won’t bother you. As she finished the last of the paintings, her excitement grew at the thought of seeing Catherine - it was a rare surprise when they could get together in person; the kitchen maids and the other servants didn’t see much of each other – there was always work to be done in Lord Kent’s castle.
Anne was so thrilled upon finishing, that she almost ran to the hallway outside the kitchen. Catherine entered from the kitchen after a few seconds.
“Cather-“ Anne began.
But the steward interrupted her.
“Anne! Her Ladyship needs her chamber pot emptied.”
Her heart sunk at the missed opportunity. “Yes, ma’am”
Later that evening, after the masters of the house had retired, Anne was tending to one of the fireplaces when the guard who had leered at her grabbed her arm.
“Lord Kent wants to see you in his chambers” he growled with an ominous smile.
Anne was overcome with fear as the guard prodded her upstairs to Lord Kent’s bedroom. He had thrown the last girl he had called to his room out of the window – three stories below. As they entered the extravagant room, Lord Kent gazed at Anne for a moment. “You chose a good one this time, Ned!” he exclaimed. “You can leave now.”
“Come here girl.” Anne hesitantly approached, stopping before she was within his reach. Before she could react he lunged for her, ripping the sleeve and shoulder of her dress. She ran to the table in the corner of the room, taking the chair in her unsteady hands, trying to find the courage to defend herself. As the snarled words came out of her mouth, she couldn’t believe she was saying them “I would rather die than be defiled by a filthy bastard like you!” Lord Kent stopped short, hesitating, and then retorted maniacally “Even better you little wench!”
He started towards her, but Anne smashed the chair over his head. Both fell to the ground from the force – Anne, panicking, freed herself and struck him again as he moaned. Everything went silent. I have to run. Run, Anne! she thought as she overcame the shock of what she had just done.
She could hear the guards shouting as they pursued her – they were approaching rapidly; she knew she had no chance of escape, but she kept running. As she ran through the servants’ corridor, Catherine came out of one of the rooms, drawn by the commotion. Anne desperately wanted to spend her last moments alive with Catherine, the only friend she’d ever had, but something in her commanded her to live, to run. She only afforded her a panicked glance, trying to communicate all of the love she had to her dear friend.
Rushing past, she was about to round the corner when she heard a crash. Anne turned just in time to see the cupboard crushing most of the guards and Catherine folding over around the sword embedded in her stomach. It seemed as though time had stopped for Anne as she grasped what was happening – she wanted to scream, but even more, she wanted to die alongside Catherine because any world without her wasn’t worth living in. Except again, something deep inside her willed her to survive. Her legs moved, almost without command.
Anne had escaped outside the walls of the castle, and was running through the forest to the East. She could hear the hooves of the horses closing in. Tears were streaking her face as she ran blindly in the dark, narrowly avoiding trees and brambles. She began to slow down – she knew there was a trench nearby. The older servants used to tell stories about it during the meals – that it had no bottom and that no one had ever survived the fall into its depths.
As she entered an opening in the trees, she stopped just short of falling into the trench. She could hear the horses coming and see the light of the torches flickering. She began to panic as she realized her legs could not carry her any farther. After failing to produce a plan, she resigned herself to death. But I will not allow those pigs the pleasure; I’ll die on my own terms. The guards were upon her, but before they could reach her, she threw herself into the trench. Her last thought was that Catherine had died for nothing.
Last edited by a moderator: