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Requiescat in pace.
The stone is still difficult to confront - a rough, cold slab looming over cold, barren earth. Eleanor Godwinson, 1868-1889. I kneel in the fallen, orange leaves at the grave, tracing the engraved letters with my fingers. Has it really been ten years since the Devil found me at my father's death bed and offered to save his life?
The pact was one I could not refuse, and if it were to happen today I know that I would do no differently. There was no secret that my soul would belong to him upon my death. What I hadn't anticipated was how quickly death would come. Within a month of my father's recovery, I was taken away by consumption and laid to rest in the ground.
And yet, here I kneel, at my own grave. Is this Hell? To remain in the land of the living, a phantom for eternity? Though I am no more, I still weep, I grow weary, I become frightened, I have desires. More than any of these, I am distressed. After my death, my father went feverish with grief. I watched him as he descended into a spiralling maelstrom of madness. I sat by him always, vainly uttering words of comfort. In those days, I didn't understand, and my attempts to comfort grew into screams of desperation and hysteria. I tore at his clothes, I made rags of bed sheets, and I sent statues crashing to the floors. But my efforts were ineffective. He could not see me.
My father, Victor Godwinson, Lord Drakesheath, has since disappeared. At the mercy of the Deceiver, I am unable to search for him. I am unable to pass beyond the boundaries of the Hall. But in ten years I've learned how to exist in this state. I am able to appear and speak to the butler, Edmund, who has continued to be a faithful servant, even after my passing. Not only does he keep the house but he has never given up searching for my father. It is his optimism that has kept me from going mad.
In the meantime, I wander the grounds aimlessly. I am unseen by most mortals, it would seem, though I have found ways of making my presence known. I am omnipresent. I have knowledge of every corner, every room, every secret door in the manor.
I know what goes on at all times in Drakesheath Hall. Now, please, Edmund, give me a little knowledge of my father, wherever he may be.
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All Posts (9) Messages posted by Eleanor
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