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  He shuddered again, still not carrying out the deed, then gripped her throat with clawed palms that seemed inhuman in their murderous strength. He pressed her head into the marshy earth. 'You got your chance, even after I caught you with him. Instead you had to run off again in front of all those people. You're dead now. Dead to me and dead to everyone who's ever known you,' he said with quiet purpose.

  A faint choking sound emanated from her, though it seemed foreign, as if her body had rejected her own consciousness for this final action and she was observing from above.

  Holding her throat tighter, he started pounding her head into the ground, his grip steadily increasing as his fingers dug in for purchase. He stared into her eyes, as if to watch the light leave them. Terror filled the eyes that stared back, for he was entirely oblivious that they were looking at what was coming from behind.

  A hand jerked Solomon back by his scalp and the knife plunged deep into his throat. A strange look of shock passed across his face and a gurgling noise crawled out of his mouth. A roar emanated from the newcomer behind him as he toppled back into the ground with the body.

  The knife was torn out and great gouts of blood filled the air as its blade flew back and forth. It haphazardly punctured his chest and abdomen and continued into his eyes and face. It tore great rents in his body and subsided to the sounds of strangled howling behind it.

  She watched from afar as she felt what was left of Solomon being torn away from her, noting that none of it was from the inside. Had he really refused to touch her?

  Solomon was dead. Something had killed Solomon.

  Doubling up in pain, she tried to force herself further into the mud, making one last futile attempt at escape. The black mottling diffused from her sight as she came to, tilting her head forward and fighting back the retching in the pit of her stomach.

  She fell back in agony and exhaustion, blinking up at the sky as it doused her with cold rain.

  Solomon was dead.

  She was still alive but felt no relief. He had been minutes away from ending her and now he was gone.

  Casting her bleary gaze around the forest, she spotted a figure cloaked in shadow on the edges of her sight.

  Recoiling in fear, she grabbed Solomon's knife, ignoring the wetness of his blood congealing on the hilt. She somehow raised herself to her knees and warily clawed toward the back of this murderer. Realising what they had done, she grabbed at the figure in rage and it spun around to meet her. She lurched forward with the knife, thrusting it toward the man, finding all her anger unleashed upon him.

  It had all gone horribly wrong, again.

  He leapt back at the first few swipes, calling to her in a voice she ignored, then his hand gripped her wrist like a vice and twisted the knife out of her grasp. Her knees went from under her and she slumped back onto the ground in shock. She knew now who stood over the wreckage of what was once Solomon.

  The stillness gripped both of them for an untold amount of time as the recollection eventually hit.

  She couldn't tell what had ceased her trembling, yet this small change had enough momentum to break the silence. She stared up into his haunted eyes and could only think of one thing to say.

  'Jakob?'

  He wrenched his gaze from the huge body at his feet to meet hers before quickly fixing his stare into the distance. He mouthed a few words that she couldn't pick up. She clutched at herself, hiding her shame, she had to think fast now.

  'Jakob... he... he was going to kill me.'

  His gaze returned to Solomon. The bleeding was beginning to subside.

  'Jakob?'

  He glared at her, rage penetrating his blank features. 'Why do we keep meeting?' he asked before turning away and facing into the forest.

  She fell back into the mud. Exhaustion grasping for her, its cold fingers wrapping around her consciousness, threatening her.

  'Please,' she breathed, 'help me.'

  Jakob's turned back to her, his eyes widening, as if taking in the enormity of what he'd just done. 'I need to leave. This.. it's too much.' He turned away to leave her alone in the muck.

  She grabbed for him, causing him to flinch at the touch. 'Please. Don't leave,' she said, her voice a piteous whine in her own ears. 'Don't leave me here.'

  He let out a long sigh then. 'If I stay, they'll catch me. Even if you back me up nobody is going to believe my story, not if he told anyone about finding us in Harvester's barn. They'll hang you too.' He fell to his knees, staring Solomon's remains. 'It wasn't supposed to be you,' he said. 'You weren't the one.'

  He continued muttering inaudibly at the body for a time as he stared at it in regret. She watched him uncertainly, her tension rising.

  Eventually she raised herself with care, feeling the pain in her joints flaring up from the beating. Beginning to back away, she was struck still by the purpose that came his voice.

  'I'm going to look after you,' he said. 'Then we deal with him.'

  She nodded at him dumbly. Could this be it? Could this be the escape she was hoping for?

  10

  Jakob

  Something was changing inside him, he was starting to remember more of who he was. It was as if knowing this gave him the power to dictate how the world should see him. He still felt fear and revulsion upon killing Solomon with his own knife, yet it had felt undoubtedly the right thing to do. This was especially true after seeing the nature of his relationship with Ella, something he felt he should have noticed before. The feelings he held for her weren't a simple childish crush. There was a complex tapestry of events unfolding before him that he had to be wary of, it was clear to him now that she was a part of them. She had simply been involved in too many things not to be, this final act of uncovering Solomon's abuse felt almost as if the world was thrusting her into his care.

  He hauled the body through the trees, he had underestimated just how much dead-weight it would be. He fought down the urge to scream and run, trying to keep his mind on how Ella's crumpled form had felt pressed against him. He had somehow carried her to the water's edge, again driven more by instinct than anything else. He had looked after her as best as he could with the meagre resources at his disposal but he couldn't leave Solomon's body unattended for long.

  That man's death had changed everything, he didn't think of himself as a murderer and would never have thought he could bring it upon himself to take another life. It seemed that now, after the fact, he had he only felt stronger for it. The circumstances surrounding the killing seemed to mitigate the barbarity of the act. It was as if it had to happen as soon as he had first laid eyes on the man, even though he knew that the feeling was entirely different than the one Gooseman had elicited.

  He saw the trees had started to gradually thin, with less branches threatening to snag his weighty burden. It wasn't a person at this point, just a fleshy load that he had to drag onward, he was just thankful he wasn't far from the river bank now.

  He finally tossed the body down in exhaustion, a few meters short of the river. He took out the knife and contemplated how best to do this.

  He had considered just hauling the body into the water and hoping that the current would take it far away. Unfortunately he knew that the river ran too close to the hamlet's centre and he couldn't risk it getting washed up on any of the shallows. The corpse was too desiccated to ever be mistaken for a drowning, the implication would be clear for all to see.

  He cut into the soil of the riverbank, probing it for a place with enough give to start making a hole. It was hard work, the roots of the trees were deep and tangled and impeded him constantly. Eventually he hurled the knife aside in frustration and sat next to the stinking mess, trying to fight down his rising panic. There had to be somewhere he could rid himself of this, he just couldn't seem to think clearly.

  He spotted a small hole as he stared back into the forest, presumably the lair of a badger or some other large mammal. There was no way that Solomon's dank corpse was going to fit in there in one piece,
the knife afforded him another opportunity.

  It was messy work and the stench was almost overpowering but Jakob managed to decapitate the body by sawing through the neck with the blade. He tossed it into the hole where it landed with a vague thudding noise. He was under no illusions that the lack of head on the body wouldn't stand up to scrutiny after an inevitable search was called. The body had distinctive broad shoulders that were easily identifiable even in death, Jakob had to rid himself of it all and hope that the rain washed away the trail of blood.

  He lost track of how long it took him to sever the various limbs into sizes that would fit into the hole. He worked relentlessly, fearing that if he stopped the roiling in his stomach would prevent him for completing the task.

  He was applying the final cuts to the sternum when his concentration was interrupted by a splashing sound. Something was coming out of the river.

  He abandoned his work and crept toward the trees, hoping this newcomer wouldn't stumble across the corpse.

  It turned out that the person wasn't coming out of the river at all, merely kicking his feet through the water in the shallows. It was a tall-looking rake of a man with a fishing pole slung across his back who was whistling tunelessly as he gradually drew closer to the burial site.

  Jakob closed his eyes, unable to look at the inevitability of it all. This man was going to find the corpse, then he was going to report back to Thom. The Warden was going to ask around and discover that Jakob had been working with Solomon. It wouldn't take him long to come to the right conclusions from there.

  Jakob opened his eyes and lifted his left hand, he was still clutching the blood-soaked knife. Could it really be that easy?

  He crept quietly around the edge of the forest as the man drew closer, trying to get to his blind side. The stranger was entirely oblivious, happily whistling away as he reached for his pole and prepared to cast out into the river. Perhaps he wasn't going to notice the body several feet away, perhaps he didn't have to kill him.

  The rain continued to hammer down and the stranger paid it no heed. What kind of idiot went fishing in the middle of stormy weather?

  The whistling slowed, the stranger seemed to be sniffing the damp air. Jakob had forgotten entirely about the smell.

  The man set his pole down on the bank of the river and cautiously ventured in-land, crouching low with what in any other situation would have seemed like an absurd approximation of stealth.

  Jakob made his way to the edge of the clearing, he knew it was a matter of time before the man discovered the body and he intended to be in the right position when he did.

  His heart in his mouth, he stepped out into the open and began creeping toward him. The stranger seemed completely unaware of his impending doom.

  He matched the man's heavy breathing, masking his own and using the loudness of it to hide all sounds of his approach.

  His target let out a wail, he'd finally spotted the body. Jakob cursed inwardly for not dumping the limbs into the hole as soon as he had cut them off. Everything lay out there for all to see should they come across it and there was nothing he could do about it. Except kill this innocent.

  He was almost within striking distance as he raised the blade and tried not to think about what he was doing.

  Something was wrong. There was no voice or any positive feeling whatsoever about this action. He wasn't following any instruction or impulse beyond the entirely selfless need to save himself. This wasn't part of the greater scheme of things, he wasn't meant to kill this man.

  Hesitating, he let out the slightest of breaths. The man spun round in shock and saw his death staring back at him.

  Jakob drove the knife down.

  11

  Ella

  The waterfall pounded in her ears, leaving her feeling strangely light-headed. She was too tired to cope with this now, too tired to talk to Jakob about it. Assuming he ever came back.

  A faint urge tugged at her as she watched it tumble down, as if the tumult was beckoning her to join it. She was truly alone now. Her thoughts floated down the cliff to ward off a chill that seemed indelibly etched. She couldn't tell if it was her mind wandering or the blood loss causing it, nor did she care.

  Solomon had been her father's right hand man in all matters, worming his way into every aspect of their lives like a second son. She had to give him his dues, he hoodwinked everyone with his false ethic and ingratiating charisma. That didn't change the transformation she witnessed when they were alone.

  She grimaced inwardly at the thought of having to deal with Solomon's disappearance, of whether she would have to conjure up sufficient grief so as to be left in peace. Or would that come of its own accord in the aftermath? She somehow doubted she'd ever be able to go back now, not after his death. Not that there was much left to go back to, her father was well-meaning but hopelessly distant and swift to anger. Long had she pondered it in the dark hours, of escape with Solomon and a life free of his presence, yet now that it had been delivered to her there was no relief.

  She didn't know how long had passed when she finally heard footsteps approach. Jakob came into the light, his arms caked in mud and his face speaking of pain he was trying to keep hidden. He kept it locked down for the time being to his credit, if poorly concealed.

  'No one must know you were here. You need to forget everything about me,' he said, staring intently at her.

  'I can't just leave you like this.' She didn't need this conversation right now.

  He stopped mid-step, pausing as if he was trying to comprehend her words, figure a response. 'You have to, someone discovered the remains as I was returning. I'm not killing anyone else. You need to leave, it's the only way you'll be safe.' As if by example, he left her on that.

  She scrambled after him but he was fast. Her whole world was spiralling out of control and something inside her knew she couldn't let him get away.

  As soon as he rounded the corner and felt he was out of her sight, he had broken into a sprint. She limped after him as best she could and caught sight of him scrambling down the cliff face toward the fall. She followed him then as a precaution but knew that his mind was elsewhere. He leapt straight through the water and vanished from sight. She shook her head, was this all a dream? Would she wake to Solomon's form sprawled out beside her? No, something about the sickening feeling in her gut assured her this was reality.

  She made her way at a painstaking clamber to the very tip of the cliff, her weary legs seeming to take an eternity and eventually allowing her to lean out dangerously far to see where he had gone. Her attempts were to no avail, he had vanished into the spray beyond her sight.

  She heard a faint sound from behind the roar of the fall, he had dove through the watery curtain and somehow he was gasping for breath on the other side. She took the risk and pushed her head through it. There was a deep pool within jumping distance of the cliff, somehow she would have to emulate Jakob and leap through the curtain and land in it. She watched him recover himself and look for the first handhold to start scaling the cliff face. It looked like a very painful climb towards what appeared to be the lip of a cave. He hauled himself over it and staggered out of sight, completely oblivious to her observation.

  Ella stared intently at the back of his head as he slept but couldn't find any rest herself. It had been an exhausting climb to trace his steps into the cave yet she had managed it at her own agonisingly slow pace. She had lost all track of time and thought in this small section of the cave she had uncovered. His breathing was irregular, a series of short, sharp breaths occasionally giving way to the longer and more measured ones of a deep sleep. She lay poised for his reaction upon waking but it appeared that he would sleep through most of the night. She felt him take another deep breath and turn to face her in an almost nonchalant manner. She had been wrong, he was waking this time.

  'Why are you here?' he murmured, a smile touching his lips as his consciousness gradually returned. Ella looked at him blankly, she wasn't expecting this.
'I couldn't leave you like that, so I followed you.'

  Jakob's brows furrowed at that.

  'That's not what you usually say.' He put his arm around her, 'You're meant to... oh shit!' His arm shot back as if it had touched hot coals and he scrambled off the cold floor.

  'Jakob?' She peered up at him, he stood shaking his head, looking stricken with guilt and confusion.

  'I thought you were someone else. What are you doing here?' he finally responded.

  Ella raised herself painfully onto her elbows. 'I told you, I couldn't leave you, not after what you've done for me.'

  She hoped against hope that he would buy that.

  He crouched back down into a sitting position, cradling his head in his hands.

  He retched then, as if the import of what had happened had finally reached him. 'God...'

  On impulse she edged toward him and sat beside him, placing her arms around his shaking shoulders. She saw where this was going now, somehow as if in response to that the words came to her.

  'Jakob he was going to kill me, I told you, you did the right thing. Even if you think nobody else will believe you. Or me for that matter.' She gently squeezed his shoulder, looking to reassure him somehow.

  'Don't touch me,' he gasped. To his apparent relief, she removed her arm. 'I need some space, just give me some space.'

  She watched him steadily gain mastery over himself for a time, then felt herself drifting away again.

  'Ella?

  She looked back at him, as if seeing him for the first time. His red eyes were still there but the barriers had returned.

  'I asked you what you're going to do now,' he repeated.

  'I don't know. Sorry,' she said, responding on impulse.

  'Well you can't really go back now, I just took a look outside and it's nearing dawn. If he goes missing and you come back without him they're going to suspect you.'

  She hadn't realised that he had left the cave at all. Her faculties returned and the options were frightening. She shook the remnants of detachment from her mind. She needed to stay focused, this was her only chance.