Page 3

“That’s what I call it,” William said with a proud puff of his chest. “A place between this awful place and the place even more awful than this. There is a bath and beautiful paintings. Very beautiful. It looks like heaven, but it’s a lie. If they come for you… to clean you up… and take you to this netherplace, that’s when you worry.”

“There is a place even worse than this?” came the boy’s horrified whisper.

“Much worse than this, lad,” William confirmed, and the boy whimpered in the dark. “A place your nightmares would be scared of. But do not fret. You’re not going to go there. When they come to take you to the netherplace, we shall run away.”

There was a shuffle in the corner, and William could see the boy moving. “Run away? But how?”

“What’s your name, boy?” William asked as he stepped closer, trying to make the fellow feel more at ease. He leaned his shoulder against the cold wall, looking into the darkness where the little boy’s form was barely visible.

“Neville,” came the boy’s hoarse voice, followed by a loud sniff.

“Good, Neville. Now, listen to me. You just stay close to me, and we are going to get the hell out of this place.”

Neville wiped his face with his dirty sleeve. “The door is closed, and the only window is so high up the wall that we will never reach it. How are we to run away?”

William shrugged nonchalantly. “Doors and windows are not a problem, Nev. Running away is not a problem. I’ve escaped at least four times before.”

“Then why are you still here?” came Neville’s high-pitched voice.

“Because, Nev, although running away is not a problem, staying away is.” William pushed off the wall and took the final step to stand right in front of his new friend. He lowered himself to his haunches and placed a reassuring hand on the little boy’s shoulder. “But now, it’s the two of us. It will be more difficult to find us if we look out for each other. Right?”

Neville raised his face to William’s, his dark eyes glinting in the dark. “You said we can’t trust anyone.”

William shook his head. “Only each other.”

* * *

Eighteen years later…

The metallic clink echoed through the damp walls, accompanying the rattling sound of chains as the guard secured William’s restraints to the floor.

“There. Now sit tight and relax,” he said, before bursting into loud and obnoxious laughter. The musket-wielding guard by the door joined in, shaking with amusement.

William glanced down at his shackled hands as the familiar sound of iron restraints clinking together grated on his nerves.

For years, this sound had haunted his dreams, following him into the darkness. The sensation of rusted metal encircling his limbs had not left his skin. It was a burden, a fear that followed him wherever he went and whatever he did. He couldn’t even sleep in complete darkness for fear of waking up chained to the walls.

That was until he met her.

Victoria.

The evening he first saw her, everything changed within him. She chased the darkness away with her mere presence. She slayed his demons with a single smile, a touch, a kiss. Her scent replaced the foul odors in the chambers of his deepest memories, her lovely visage eclipsed gruesome images in his mind, and her melodious voice drowned out the haunting echoes of his past. Especially when she whispered his name in that sweet, breathy accent of hers.

Perhaps that was the reason he had fallen head over heels in love with her and fought relentlessly to keep her close. Because she was the embodiment of hope for him.

Now, as he closed his eyes, her face was the only thing he saw.

He would never regret meeting her. Without her, his entire life was shrouded in darkness. She was a sliver of light that enriched his life, convincing him that it was worth living. That life was more than a struggle, a race, and a plot for revenge.

He was born into darkness with shackles about his ankles and wrists, and he knew that was how he would die. And he was content with that.

Because only with her did he know the true meaning of freedom. Without her, he might as well never have been free.

With her, he realized he was capable of feelings, capable of love, because he did indeed love her. That meant those who had ruined his childhood hadn’t succeeded in ruining him entirely. A speck of humanity remained. And he gladly shared that speck with her.

A hard push between his shoulder blades propelled William a step farther into a solitary, dim, and squalid cell, his chains jangling against the stone floor.

William smirked at the tiny window below the ceiling, a sense of familiarity and an odd comfort washing over him. His first childhood memory was of a similar window in a similar cell.