Hell's Eyes

HELL'S EYES

Elsie wrapped her arms around herself, unaware of her surroundings or the absence of the chill she felt as surely as she saw her worst fears playing before her very eyes. Why was she so cold? Why hadn’t she thought to wear her thick cloak? “Miss Hyacinth,” Herman said, “if you can hear me clearly, know this: I will help you, but to do so, I need to render you unconscious in order to quiet your mind. I’m terribly sorry to have gotten you into this, but I thank you for saving my life.” As the anxiety and never-ending questions flooded her and grew to a crescendo, Elsie jumped at the touch that landed on her arm. She misunderstood the soothing voice for that of someone who would do her harm and began striking out at them, desperately attempting to clear her mind of the chaos consuming her. The voice calmly spoke to her, telling her she was safe and to give up her fight, but Elsie wouldn’t—she couldn’t —before a heaviness ultimately consumed her, blanketing her mind in hazy silence. Numbed by it, Elsie let her body sag, uncertain if it was relief or paralysis that weighed her down. Blinking slowly, two visions fought for Elsie’s attention: that of her darkest nightmares and the reality of sapphire leaves haloing the concerned features of Mr. Herman Basil arranging her in his arms, still quietly offering her assurances that she would be just fine by the next sunrise.

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