text: The branches of the trees creaked and whined as the wind swept across the moor. Twisters of leaves flung wildly about. Upon a hill stood a man gazing absently over the valley. The man’s clothing was ill fitting on his thinning frame. His face was gaunt and his hair fell unkempt. His body trembled with weakness and exhaustion. His once bright blue eyes were now clouded and bleary. It was his first time in the outside world from his manor in as any months. His home had fallen silent. The floor was littered with leaves, dust coated every surface and he had ordered for all the windows to be shuttered and the drapes closed. It was once a warm and welcoming place. Dances and other entertainment were frequently hosted there. The expansive hall was often ornamented with fine porcelain china and exotic vases. The banquet room was perfumed with oriental teas and rich fat from roasted meats. For some who had the taste for it, Opium was imported from the Silk Road. At these parties Edmond’s wife insisted on greeting the guests and escorted them into the designated room. Performers and musicians serenaded them as they indulged. Wine flowed in abundance into crystal glasses. As inebriation took hold, gentlemen shed their jackets. Their women flushed and giggled. Some were more blatant than others as their primal nature was revealed. Later they would take coffee and cigars in the parlor. Edmond would further entertain as his wife served delicacies. The haze of smoke lowered the inhibitions of their friends. Kissing and groping would take place on the couches. Make-up was smeared and hair was ruffled. Some sat awkwardly, witnessing these displays while maintaining decorum. On occasion a couple would sneak into one of the upstairs bedrooms. The sounds of their whooping coitus caused riotous laughter. When the night drew late the guests filed out of the home and into their carriages. The servants bustled here and there, clearing the tables. Edmond took his wife’s hand and escorted her up the stairs. He could hardly wait to bed her after the party. He had been starving for her all evening. As soon as the bedroom door closed, he reached to pull her to him. Her hunger matched his. With fumbling hands, she unbuttoned his trousers. Slowly her fingers traveled downward to tease him ever so gently. A mischievous smile graced her lips as her husband’s breath began to hitch. He disrobed himself unceremoniously and cast his clothing in a pile upon the floor. Angelique rushed to undo the laces of her bodice. Her face flushed red and her skin was exposed before him. He reached for the pin that held her hair up into a braided bun. Her golden locks slipped down to curtain her breasts that had so pleased him. He gripped a fistful of her hair and crashed his lips down upon hers. The days of virginal restraint and care had long since passed. Yes, still he made love to her, but now was not the time. No. Now they would devour each other in simple lust. Roughly he pressed her into the bed. He nipped at her collar bones and shoulders and she trembled beneath him. Desperately, she clung to him, raking her nails down his back breaking the last of Edmond’s resolve. He eagerly shifted Angelique’s skirts and placed his mouth upon her breast. Her body accepted him and she cried out from his touch. They plummeted from the edge of self-control and submitted to their carnal wants. In an act of boldness, Angelique crossed her legs around his waist, urging him on. A low moan rose from the depths of his chest and he bared his weight upon her. Pinning her wrists, he seized control. They began to sweat and their breathing grew ragged. Their rutting became erratic and all sense of the world around them disappeared. Soon now. The last dredges of their intercourse came with a strangled grunt and his lower belly clenched. With his release the tight coil that had been building inside Angelique’s core finally broke. With a few more twitches and spasms, the couple lie still. In the afterglow of their love he took her hand in his and she began to weep. He smiled knowingly. She always cried with joy when he was with her like this. Sapped by exhaustion they began to fade from consciousness. With what little will she had left, Angelique rose onto shaky legs and managed to make it to her own room. Edmond’s slumber used to be so sweet knowing his love was not far away. Just a few doors down his wife lie peacefully. Now he tossed and turned...if he slept at all. When he did sleep, he dreamt of her. He would reach out for her and her hand would be icy cold. Her hair was wet and stringy, skin pale and blood drenched the bodice of her gown. Mud and leaves were matted in her hair. Angelique’s eyes were sharp and accusing. Edmond trembled and wept as he leaned in to kiss her. No sooner that his lips brushed hers a shriek ripped through the air. Her mouth curled in a sneer. A voice like venom roared. “Your fault! Your fault!” Edmonds throat tightened and a pathetic cry struggled from his mouth. “I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you. Please forgive me my love.” Again, she bellowed. “Your fault! Your fault!” The wind howled and she began to fade. Leaves appeared in a whirlwind where she once stood. A gale forced the leaves to engulf him. They were razor sharp, tattering his clothes and slashing his skin. He would wake in a cold sweat. After such dreams he would slip into fits of rage. His wailing dirge would echo all the way to the servant’s quarters. As the weeks drug on he dismissed them. He couldn’t bear the whisperings and the way they avoided looking him in the eye. Edmond despised the way they pitied him. A malignant resentment built in him from the falsity of their sorrow. As they left, he shut himself away. He wallowed in his solitude. His guilt riddled thoughts were all that kept him company.