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even death cannot disengage

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The winter moon glittered through the windows and reflected off the burgundy floral tapestry that hung across the bedchamber's walls.


A voice. Someone was calling out to her. But she couldn't place it. It just echoed around in her mind.

“There's my favourite girl.”

There was a woman hovering above her, with thick black hair, smiling down at Emily, with a mischievous grin.

“Come. Here.”

"I—" But Emily cannot make her mouth work.

Slowly, the being approached.

“I've given you time, love-and now I'm here to collect."

Black, soulless eyes pierced right through her.

“ Can’t...” chokes Emily.

For a moment they stare at one another, silent.


Her eyes reflect death but shine like violets in the sun.

“So intelligent, yet so naïve, my little Emily."

Death laughed and the world disappeared in a swirl of colours once more.

"Also, if anyone asks," the woman raised an eyebrow at Emily, "I was never here."

Gentle fingers turned Emily's head back to face her, and she couldn't escape.


Emily felt the soft flutter of lips, her eyes falling closed, and she opened her mouth.

Except it never came.

And with that, the woman was gone.


Emily always knew it would come for her. She just didn't know it would be her.


Mary has been dreaming of monsters since she could remember.

“Father - ”

Guilt. It’s all my fault.

The heart in Mary's mother stopped beating.

“Do not speak, Mary. This mistake cannot be undone.”

She felt the overwhelming urge to retch.

“But —”

His knowing blue eyes had been playful.

“Percy Bysshe Shelley, we meet at last.”


“I remember you.” said Mary, not looking up from the book she was reading.

Blood, there's blood everywhere.


Her babies... Oh. Time and time again.

“Don't leave me.”

And there it was; the self-loathing that twisted inside Mary, that tainted her every action and thought.

You bastard.

Poor man should have never entered her home.

“Took you long enough.”

His chest is hollow, submerged in water.


Mary looked over all of the destroyed work in front of her, before nodding once to herself.

Foolishness, she thought.

The night was long, Mary thought. But not long enough.


A cold shiver of foreboding gripped her body.











The laughter echoed out of the bedroom.

“Oh, so you’re awake.” Mrs. Dickinson scoffed. Emily made an approximation of rolling his eyes.

Emily’s eyes snapped open, her heartrate accelerating into her chest so quickly her breath staggered.


Not expected, but not surprising.

Could be much worse.

“You owe me a letter.”

“It was a clever idea,”

Emily waits.

“My Emily needs a husband.”


Death laughed and the world disappeared in a swirl of colours once more.

Thankfully, she has no reason to fear.

Peace, Mary thinks. Real peace, at last.

“It was a long time ago.” She shrugged it off, but her eyes looked far away as she was locked in the past.

“She’s back, again.”
Emily sauntered over to the cast iron stove, as a column of steam began to rise from the kettle.
Sue followed Emily’s gaze as she poured out two measures of dark-coloured tea.
“The woman painted in black”
Emily replied before handing Sue one and took a sip for herself.

Sue said in a sharp tone. Her dear Susan is quite jealous.

Books with a plethora of titles and languages littered some of the shelves.

Hi." The word escapes Peggy in a shaky sigh. "It's me."

Gentle fingers turned Tony’s head back to face her, and he couldn't escape


"So intelligent, yet so naive, my little Emily." MOCKED. "Your Mary knows that all too well, I'm sure."

"For good measure." Mary smiled.

"I cannot give you more." Mary reiterated.


Her tone is lithe and teasing, but the heated look she aims across the table hits Peggy like a physical blow to the gut. Peggy almost chokes on her coffee


The world went black.

Angie's face falls at Peggy's words.



The woman raised her chin defiantly as she quoted one of the dead woman's poens in her honour.

Mary encouraged. "I want to know your opinion, Emily."

The younger woman demonstrated her brilliant knowledge of nature.

"I’ll be waiting for you here,” affirmed Mary with a reassuring smile.

Emily Dickinson stood by a window in her bedchamber. Her imaginary-loving soul was overflowing with sentimentality and awe at the sight of the sheer magnificence around her.

A grave silence reigned, breathing with unspoken amazement and tense anticipation.

“Calm down.” soothed Mary, her voice compassionate.

She sprang to her feet, pale with emotion. “Only she can save me.”

Glowing with an gold omnipotent magic, the being's eyes flared as the world around Mary