Categories > Movies > Sleepy Hollow > Creature of darkness
A month had now passed with Mary taking the captive girl outdoors.
The motherly bond between Mary and her young charge had grown stronger, she embraced the feeling because she had never possessed a such a disposition in her life... she hadn’t even wanted to.
Perhaps death had prepared her for it in a strange sort of way.
Embeth was feeling a little happier with the daily outings and she had grown to love and respect Mary a great deal but at night she would still feel glum when she thought of her family, missing them so.
Things had changed a bit during the course of the month, Mary now left in the evening where she went Embeth didn’t know; but from around 7 at night until the morning it was just her....and him.
He was a man of few words and that suited her just fine but she would have quite liked a little less silence sometimes; it get’s awful lonely there without sound.
When Mary had sat Embeth down to break the news of her nightly absence she had first begged that she not be left alone with him.
But he had reluctantly agreed to keep his distance and so far been as good as his word- But now she wondered if she would perhaps prefer to be left alone a little less.
The last week though, after Embeth had made an effort to seem more interested in company- albeit questioning her nerve and sanity while doing so.
Mary had appeared to be quite right he didn’t seem so ferocious.
Infact she had noticed he liked to cross stitch....and he cleaned quite alot too.
She thought these were strange things for him to do but she thought better of questioning him about them lest he take offence; she didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his temper again.
She wondered if he only did these harmless things purely for her benefit perhaps thinking in participating in them she would somehow think of him as another human instead of....well a monster.
Sometimes he would give her small tasks to do such as cook her own meal or very occasionally sharpen and polish his weapons.
She hated to do it at first because all she could think about were how many lives the blades had taken, soon she learned to block out the thoughts.
Once he even attempted to teach her some light combat with the sword but had given up on noticing she were no where near strong enough to wield it for an effective attack aside from the fact she wasn’t likely to be in such a situation.
One night when it were too early to go to bed but she had no tasks to complete she decided to try and converse with him,
Although still wary of his temper and the fact she still resented being his prisoner she wanted to at least get along with him if she were to spend the rest of her life at his mercy.
He had after all seemed to be going out of his way to appease her as of late.
So... she said trying to sound alot brighter and far more confident than she felt...How old are you?
The question caught him off guard and he couldn’t help but laugh a little.
When he regained his composure he replied amiably.
A little older than yourself I should think.....Though age doesn’t affect me now.
Why not? She asked curiously.
I’ve lost count of the exact number of years which have passed me by since I lived up there he answered thoughtfully gesturing above.
But, he continued- I haven’t aged a day.
He hoped this would lighten the mood.
He thought that If he could have a conversation with her without his short temper souring things perhaps things would improve .
She smirked a little seeing the funny side.
It must be quite nice to live for ever; you would have all the time in the world to do anything you wanted without having to worry about dying.
She hadn’t really intended to say it out loud but did anyway.
He sighed, No, not when you are incarcerated; I would rather have found no afterlife than the fate I have met.
He was very honest in his answer, sometimes he did feel angry at his life....or lack there of.
How so? Embeth asked sympathetically.
It’s cold, dark and he paused momentarily before addming lonely onto the end of his answer.
When he were living he could deal with those things because he knew that it wouldn’t last long, things would change.
But in death it were the same thing day after day, night after night, year after year.
The lonely bit was a small untruth; He really didn’t mind being so solitary, he preferred his own company to being around anyone most of the time anyway.
Still, that said, He had grown quite used to having Embeth’s company....and during the day Mary’s too and questioned how he had lived before them.....For a week or so he had barely even thought of the wedding.
Not completely forgotten but he were slightly more relaxed about it now that Embeth seemed to have become less nervous around him.
The motherly bond between Mary and her young charge had grown stronger, she embraced the feeling because she had never possessed a such a disposition in her life... she hadn’t even wanted to.
Perhaps death had prepared her for it in a strange sort of way.
Embeth was feeling a little happier with the daily outings and she had grown to love and respect Mary a great deal but at night she would still feel glum when she thought of her family, missing them so.
Things had changed a bit during the course of the month, Mary now left in the evening where she went Embeth didn’t know; but from around 7 at night until the morning it was just her....and him.
He was a man of few words and that suited her just fine but she would have quite liked a little less silence sometimes; it get’s awful lonely there without sound.
When Mary had sat Embeth down to break the news of her nightly absence she had first begged that she not be left alone with him.
But he had reluctantly agreed to keep his distance and so far been as good as his word- But now she wondered if she would perhaps prefer to be left alone a little less.
The last week though, after Embeth had made an effort to seem more interested in company- albeit questioning her nerve and sanity while doing so.
Mary had appeared to be quite right he didn’t seem so ferocious.
Infact she had noticed he liked to cross stitch....and he cleaned quite alot too.
She thought these were strange things for him to do but she thought better of questioning him about them lest he take offence; she didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his temper again.
She wondered if he only did these harmless things purely for her benefit perhaps thinking in participating in them she would somehow think of him as another human instead of....well a monster.
Sometimes he would give her small tasks to do such as cook her own meal or very occasionally sharpen and polish his weapons.
She hated to do it at first because all she could think about were how many lives the blades had taken, soon she learned to block out the thoughts.
Once he even attempted to teach her some light combat with the sword but had given up on noticing she were no where near strong enough to wield it for an effective attack aside from the fact she wasn’t likely to be in such a situation.
One night when it were too early to go to bed but she had no tasks to complete she decided to try and converse with him,
Although still wary of his temper and the fact she still resented being his prisoner she wanted to at least get along with him if she were to spend the rest of her life at his mercy.
He had after all seemed to be going out of his way to appease her as of late.
So... she said trying to sound alot brighter and far more confident than she felt...How old are you?
The question caught him off guard and he couldn’t help but laugh a little.
When he regained his composure he replied amiably.
A little older than yourself I should think.....Though age doesn’t affect me now.
Why not? She asked curiously.
I’ve lost count of the exact number of years which have passed me by since I lived up there he answered thoughtfully gesturing above.
But, he continued- I haven’t aged a day.
He hoped this would lighten the mood.
He thought that If he could have a conversation with her without his short temper souring things perhaps things would improve .
She smirked a little seeing the funny side.
It must be quite nice to live for ever; you would have all the time in the world to do anything you wanted without having to worry about dying.
She hadn’t really intended to say it out loud but did anyway.
He sighed, No, not when you are incarcerated; I would rather have found no afterlife than the fate I have met.
He was very honest in his answer, sometimes he did feel angry at his life....or lack there of.
How so? Embeth asked sympathetically.
It’s cold, dark and he paused momentarily before addming lonely onto the end of his answer.
When he were living he could deal with those things because he knew that it wouldn’t last long, things would change.
But in death it were the same thing day after day, night after night, year after year.
The lonely bit was a small untruth; He really didn’t mind being so solitary, he preferred his own company to being around anyone most of the time anyway.
Still, that said, He had grown quite used to having Embeth’s company....and during the day Mary’s too and questioned how he had lived before them.....For a week or so he had barely even thought of the wedding.
Not completely forgotten but he were slightly more relaxed about it now that Embeth seemed to have become less nervous around him.
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