A Man of Madness

Short Story

Now, listen to me Emily Brooke,” Nick Wilburg warned. “If you keep living like this, you’ll die of boredom.”

I’ll die of something alright, Emily thought. Sick of how Nick threw himself at her with weak advances, Emily cast her eyes down. She could hardly keep her composure at the thought of swilling with Nick �" the son of the Minister �" at the local Ole Mill Tavern.

Nick’s eyes scanned her body. “What’s wrong? You need not worry, if anyone gets too close…” Nick let his fingers drift down Emily’s butterfly sleeves, stopping short at her hips. With his other hand, he coiled a blonde tendril of her hair around his finger. “…I’ll protect you.”

Emily raised her hand so fast that she gasped when she saw the red imprint stamped on Nick’s face. She drew it back quietly down to her side. Nick, with his face half turned, laughed while rubbing the throbbing bruise.

“Do you know what you just did? You won’t get away with this, Emily!”

“Threaten me all you like, but get out of my house,” Emily hissed through clenched teeth.

Nick stumbled backwards half-drunk underneath the cool shining moon, watching her closely. “You think you’re some prize?” he laughed again, a breathy laugh full of condescension, “I’ll ruin you. When I’m finished you’ll be beyond nothing.”

Emily no longer paid him any attention, slamming her door as he strutted further down the water-soaked cobblestone streets.

I’ll ruin you. What did it matter anyway? Emily’s life was already falling apart all around her. A rush of air flowed from beneath her door. Emily twisted back, spotting a shadow near the bottom of the door.

She rolled her eyes. “Go away, Nick! Go ahead and ruin me.”

The stranger at the door did not answer.

A sudden knock sent a jolt of fear through her body, but she wouldn’t budge.

“Come around again, and I will go straight to the police.”
Knock. Knock.

“For Goodness’s sake Nick…”

Holding a candle, Emily swung open her door. Blood drained from her face at the sight of rotting flesh. A man wearing heavy buckskin boots and tallow-colored rags had posted himself in her doorway. Her eyes travelled up to his neck, above which he was missing his head.

A gurgling noise rose up in his powerful chest. “I have something to show you.” In a split second, the headless man lifted his arm. Emily stepped back, cupping her hands over her face. In his hand he held the severed head of Nick, exposed arteries and veins dangled while spewing blood.

“If you wish for mercy…” it breathed, “I have none.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the body of Nick thrashing headless on the street.

“I thought I’d lost you.”

Emily shook her head. She didn’t understand. And she had no place to hide nor run.

* * *

Emily pressed her hands gently against her abdomen, so frightened that she could almost feel her heart beating in the pit of her gut.

How could she know this man? This thing?

“You don’t understand,” she gasped. “I have no idea who you are.”

Leaves fluttered in from the open doorway. Without thought, the headless man set Nick’s head down on a nearby nightstand. Emily closed her eyes, trembling, as she heard his footsteps approaching ever nearer.

Hot breath warmed her cheek when he spoke again.

“You are my dream. I am your nightmare.”

“You didn’t come this night to kill me, did you?” She asked in a whisper.

He scratched the dried bloody scars on his neck. “You mean like how you killed me?”

Emily brushed the long strands of hair out of her face.

“Please, you must understand, you have the wrong woman. I… I… haven’t stepped foot out of this village in my life. Given my luck, I will end up dying here.”

Having unintentionally angered him, she watched as he balled his fists. It had already been half an hour, and he still stood planted in her door. A freezing wind nearly blew out the fire in her cast iron stove.

Sure enough, Emily never saw herself as a murderer. What we reason did she have to kill a man whose first name she didn’t even know? Her eyes glistened, hoping this creature of the damned would spare her.

“I cannot stay long…” His dead voice deepened. “I only came here to lead you somewhere.”

As he approached to take her by her hand, Emily weighed the options in her mind. If she left with this dark human, who knew what sort of shadows he would lead her into? If she stayed and fought, he’d kill her, leaving her bloodied and bludgeoned on the floor.

She grabbed onto her bonnet to keep it from flying away in the wind, and then took hold of his dirty hand. The door slammed shut behind both of them. Her eyes traced the curved lines of the cobblestones, anything to keep her focus off of his tight, numbing grip.

Strangely, no one was out this night, no one except for a full and looming moon. Then she noticed a grey streak streaming across the black night sky.

“Over there!” She pointed. “Is that what we’re following?”

He didn’t answer.

She realized the streak stretched all the way to the Harbor Mill graveyard. Did he want to bury her there? She wondered. Bury her alive? What had she done? She asked herself.

They walked hand-in-hand through a bush of roses.

“Please, Mister. We ought to be heading back. My father will be looking for me,” Emily pleaded.

He still did not address her but continued moving forward towards his mysterious destination. Emily glanced at her surroundings, figuring she could probably escape. Straining her eyes, she saw a nearby clearing.

“Now or never…” She muttered under her breath. Emily leaped backwards, pulling back her arm. She then righted herself and made a break for it. And then the dark man dark human tore through the trees, marching right behind her.

She could see nothing through the leaves, and she winced at the pain of branches scratching her skin. Suddenly, she heaved forward, catching her foot on the loose rock, and collapsed hard on the soaking wet ground.

The bright white light ended right where she fell. A crumbling headstone cast a shadow over her face. Emily looked up, reading the fading name carved into on the stone.

Robert Brooke.

Again, she felt paralyzed, crippled, unable to believe that this grave was that of her father.

“What is this?” Emily asked as the strong wind whirled through her dress. “If you don’t want to kill me, why are you trying to hurt me?”

A wind storm brewed all around them. The dark had made it impossible to see any other gravestones except the two in front of them. The headless man thumped forward with heavy steps, as if he walked on leaden legs.

“I show you this not to hurt you. Only to make you see…”

Emily slapped her hands at her sides. “See what?”

“You cannot escape what you have done. Don’t hide yourself away from the truth.”

The same streak of light which had left him there gleamed with a much brighter hue. Emily covered her eyes before being blinded. When she dared to look again, a vision appeared before her.

Emily stood in her church, rocking a small infant in her arms. Often, she volunteered to watch the orphans with no place to go. She felt a sudden bolt through her body when the church door slammed.

“We must get rid of the child,” her father shouted. And then he snatched the infant from her arms.

“Why?” Emily asked, seeing the panic in her father’s movements. “Is someone coming to do this child harm? Shall we hide him in the undercroft?”

“There is no helping this child. This is the child of the devil.”

Then he shoved Emily out of the way, rushing out of the back door towards the old church well. Priest Wilburg had already left for the night. She was on her own.

She stopped behind her father when he arrived at the well. The baby wailed in his arms.

“This is madness!” She screamed, but her father stopped speaking and raised the child above his head. Panicked, Emily searched for something, anything to stop him.“Father…” she called with tears in her eyes.

He turned, his body outlined by moonlight. And in seconds, the axe separated his head from his body.

And that’s when the vision ended.

Emily felt trapped in her own quiet hell when the truth came flooding back to her.

“Now you know why your father will never return.”

Emily clapped her knees together and had one last question to ask.

“Whatever happened to the child? Did it survive that night?”

“Yes,” her headless father said gravely. “Yes, and in due time, it will come back for you.”