Return
Return
Seven year old Marcie Bellairestruggled and screamed as the young masked man carried her to guillotine for the crime of theft. He laid her down on the long since blood-stianed cobblestones and strapped down her hands and feet. Marcie squirmed. Tried to kick. "Help!" She cried out to the slowly gathering mob. Tears poured from her eyes. She struggled against the ropes that bound her. "Please! Help me!" she pleaded to the crowd. They pointed but did nothing. The fear was evident in her young eyes. She looked at the executioner and whispered a single word. "Why?" she asked. Then, even he turned away. He held a little girl's life in his hands. For a second, she felt a glimmer of hope.
Then, in one swift movement, he spun around and the blade cut the rope. Marcie, as the large blade hurtled towards her neck, let out one last scream.
Twenty-two years later, Hector DeVella was standing despondantly in the heart of one of the many vacant rooms in his stone mansion. This one the most depressing. He dropped to his knees and began to sob.
A terrible event had occured here only five years ago. It pained him to even think about it. Even so, he had forced himself to face this room each and every day for the past five years to leave a single ribbon on the old bed. 1,825 ribbons since it had happened. Today was the five years anniversary of....no. He wasn't going to think about it. He had one with him that was exactly like the one she had been wearing. An olive green silk ribbon. He forced himself to stand up and place it in the center of the bed.
He grieved to think of his acts of selfishness. He left the ribbons so her spirit would leave him be. She got her ribbons, he got peace. Except there was no peace. The guilt would gnaw at him, slowly eating him alive.
Why hadn't he realized it? The resemblance. Because of him she was dead twice over. And both times because of his selfishness. First his need for money. The second time because of his need to get his way no metter who he hurt. Selfishness. He moaned and curled up on the floor. He thought about her. Would she want him to act like this? Well, actually yes. That was one of the things he had liked about her. Her fiery need for venegance on some unknown force.
He lay there, curling up tighter, three words running through his mind. Dead. No peace. Dead. No peace. Dead. Dead. No peace. Dead. No peace. He thought back to the whole traumatizing event.
He had just retired from his job as executioner and she had been his newlywed wife. For the first few months they were happy. Then he realized she always wore the exact same ribbon. When he questioned her about it, she simply said that she could not take it off, and never would. From then on, the circle of cloth that bound her neck began to taunt him. He mentioned it daily and each time, she slyly avoided an actual answer as to why she wouldn't remove the ribbon.
One day he couldn't stand it. "If you don't take that ribbon off, I'll do it for you!" he roared angrily. His hand enclosed the ribbon around her neck and tugged. Nothing. It didn't budge. He looked. She had stitched the ends so close together he could only just see where the ribbon started. He jerked his hand away. "Witch" he hissed through angrily clenched teeth, "Witch!" She smiled mysteriously. Her foggy purple eyes lit slightly.
That night, he crept into her sewing room and snatched a pair of scissors, an evil gleam in his eye. He crept back through the halls, as quietly as a cat. He quietly slid back into bed and slipped the blade of the scissors under the ribbon around his wife's neck. Slowly, he cut through the stitches she had carefully sewn. Then pulled the ribbon away.
Almost immediately her head rolled off of the bed and onto the floor. Her eyes opened wide. She whispered a single word "Why?" then opened her mouth in an eternal, piercing cry. It was then that he realized he had married the same person who's life he had taken away all those years ago. She had come back.
Hector was jerked to the present by a small scuffling noise. He looked up and saw a large black rat running across the floor, a ribbon caught in it's yellowed teeth. Hector couldn't take it anymore. Then he looked in the corner of the room. There, just above the ground his twice dead wife was hovering. Hold out a vengeful hand, and moving closer to him. He moaned in fear. Then he curled up tighter and closed his eyes. Never to awaken again.
Then, in one swift movement, he spun around and the blade cut the rope. Marcie, as the large blade hurtled towards her neck, let out one last scream.
Twenty-two years later, Hector DeVella was standing despondantly in the heart of one of the many vacant rooms in his stone mansion. This one the most depressing. He dropped to his knees and began to sob.
A terrible event had occured here only five years ago. It pained him to even think about it. Even so, he had forced himself to face this room each and every day for the past five years to leave a single ribbon on the old bed. 1,825 ribbons since it had happened. Today was the five years anniversary of....no. He wasn't going to think about it. He had one with him that was exactly like the one she had been wearing. An olive green silk ribbon. He forced himself to stand up and place it in the center of the bed.
He grieved to think of his acts of selfishness. He left the ribbons so her spirit would leave him be. She got her ribbons, he got peace. Except there was no peace. The guilt would gnaw at him, slowly eating him alive.
Why hadn't he realized it? The resemblance. Because of him she was dead twice over. And both times because of his selfishness. First his need for money. The second time because of his need to get his way no metter who he hurt. Selfishness. He moaned and curled up on the floor. He thought about her. Would she want him to act like this? Well, actually yes. That was one of the things he had liked about her. Her fiery need for venegance on some unknown force.
He lay there, curling up tighter, three words running through his mind. Dead. No peace. Dead. No peace. Dead. Dead. No peace. Dead. No peace. He thought back to the whole traumatizing event.
He had just retired from his job as executioner and she had been his newlywed wife. For the first few months they were happy. Then he realized she always wore the exact same ribbon. When he questioned her about it, she simply said that she could not take it off, and never would. From then on, the circle of cloth that bound her neck began to taunt him. He mentioned it daily and each time, she slyly avoided an actual answer as to why she wouldn't remove the ribbon.
One day he couldn't stand it. "If you don't take that ribbon off, I'll do it for you!" he roared angrily. His hand enclosed the ribbon around her neck and tugged. Nothing. It didn't budge. He looked. She had stitched the ends so close together he could only just see where the ribbon started. He jerked his hand away. "Witch" he hissed through angrily clenched teeth, "Witch!" She smiled mysteriously. Her foggy purple eyes lit slightly.
That night, he crept into her sewing room and snatched a pair of scissors, an evil gleam in his eye. He crept back through the halls, as quietly as a cat. He quietly slid back into bed and slipped the blade of the scissors under the ribbon around his wife's neck. Slowly, he cut through the stitches she had carefully sewn. Then pulled the ribbon away.
Almost immediately her head rolled off of the bed and onto the floor. Her eyes opened wide. She whispered a single word "Why?" then opened her mouth in an eternal, piercing cry. It was then that he realized he had married the same person who's life he had taken away all those years ago. She had come back.
Hector was jerked to the present by a small scuffling noise. He looked up and saw a large black rat running across the floor, a ribbon caught in it's yellowed teeth. Hector couldn't take it anymore. Then he looked in the corner of the room. There, just above the ground his twice dead wife was hovering. Hold out a vengeful hand, and moving closer to him. He moaned in fear. Then he curled up tighter and closed his eyes. Never to awaken again.