Chapter 224 - 224: The Escape

Hours passed like seconds, though Ruelle couldn't say for sure. Not in this room. Not in the dim, wavering circle of the lantern's light, where time seemed to have stopped moving altogether.

Ezekiel had taken a seat on the opposite chair and he watched her without blinking. The weight of his gaze was a physical thing, pressing against her skin, crawling over her face and her hands and her throat. It was taxing on her mind in a way she hadn't known a gaze could be. She couldn't relax.

And every time her eyes met his, the more empty they looked. As if she were looking at a person who didn't have a soul.

"Are you sleepy, Ruelle?" Ezekiel asked. There was a barely hidden eagerness in his voice, of a man waiting to carry her to bed.

"No," she said, and the word came out flatter than she intended. She forced herself to meet his eyes. "But I want to relieve myself."

It was true. The pressure had been building for what felt like hours, a dull, insistent ache low in her body. But it was also an excuse to be away from that unblinking stare, from the suffocating weight of his attention while she wanted to see the place she was held captive.

But Ezekiel only continued to stare at her. He then smiled and replied, "Of course, let me help you there."

She saw him stand up before making his way to her. When he went to pick her up, she said, "I want to walk myself. It's not like I can do much in my current state."

"I love you, but I don't trust you enough to free your legs," Ezekiel answered with a smile. "How can I trust you?"

For someone who killed people, he had absurd demands. She pleaded, "Please. The least I can ask is for my dignity to be maintained."

Ezekiel's lips twisted in thought. He then said, "Okay. Let us hope you don't break that trust and do something stupid, Ruelle. It would make me very upset." The threat under the soft words was clear.

Ruelle gave a nod and soon he freed her legs from the binds that were tied. Then he took her arm and led her out of the room. The corridor was dark, darker than the room they'd left behind, as lanterns didn't burn here. She couldn't help but pick the stench coming from somewhere and she asked once again,

"Where is this place?"

"Can you believe it is a place I found when I was a child?" she heard him ask, his voice filling the narrow corridor as light began to enter. It seemed like this was underground where he had brought her. "The vampires liked to chase me around. I found this place when I was running from them one night. It was my solace and peace here, a place I liked to come and spend time in. I have very fond memories of it. And I cannot wait to tell you about each and every one of them," he added.

As they walked on, the stench grew worse. Ruelle raised her bound wrists, coming up to cover her nose and mouth. The smell was thick now, unavoidable.

"Did others come here?" she asked.

"You mean the women whom I killed?" Ezekiel didn't hide the fact, as if he had decided to drop the whole gentleman facade. "Yes, I brought them here. But none could match you. Won't you ask why?"

She would not give him the satisfaction. She would not open her mouth and invite more of his sick, twisted thoughts into the space between them. But even as she held her silence, her mind raced.

Ezekiel's grip on her arm tightened. He said, "Let me show you."

He dragged her in another direction, and the smell hit her full force now. Entering a room, she caught sight of a woman's body, lying on the table.

"Who—who is that?"

"I don't know," Ezekiel chuckled.

He picked up a lantern, and when the light fell, the full horror of the scene laid itself bare before her. The woman's chest had been cracked wide open to reveal the ribcage. The inside of it looked empty and dry.

"If you had come to me, this wouldn't have happened, Ruelle. Choosing Lucian Slater when I was right there. I was going mad, and I had to take my anger out on someone," Ezekiel paused as his eyes found hers. "I didn't want to hurt you."

The despicable things this person was capable of... Ruelle was not only revolted but scared of what he could do. She took a step back and then another in horror. No matter what she would say, nothing would enter his head. Taking a deep breath to calm herself and said,

"I don't like anyone being harmed or killed...."

"Of course, Ruelle," Ezekiel returned to her side with a smile. "Now that you are with me, I have no need to find one who looks like you. Besides, you are going to listen to me, right?"

"Yes…" Ruelle answered, while her eyes fell on the sharp instruments on the side table.

He didn't take her outside the underground space. Instead, he led her to another room and then stepped outside to wait for her, leaving her alone for the first time in hours.

Her eyes swept the room with desperation, but there was nothing worth grabbing. But seeing there was water, she used it on the ground to send a message through teleportation she had learned, but the chain she had used refused to disappear as if she held no witch ability at all.

Once she was done, he brought her back to the first room. Ezekiel knelt to bind her legs again.

"If you really loved me, why didn't you stop the marriage?" she questioned, while hoping to find a way to reach her goal right now.

What she needed was for him to leave, to go somewhere, anywhere, for long enough that she could move, could work, could find some crack in the careful cage he'd kept her in. If she couldn't reason with him, she would distract him. If she couldn't distract him, she would manage him. Whatever it took.

Ezekiel's hands paused on the rope. He remarked,

"I regret not stopping the wedding. I was too shocked. There were council ministers there that day, witnessing the wedding. I couldn't just refuse. But now it doesn't even matter." He looked up at her. "I even told you."

"When?" Ruelle asked, and she kept her voice soft, humouring him.

"The night before the wedding." Ezekiel's voice had gone quiet with slight hurt. "I told you how I couldn't wait to marry you. But you ran away."

Before he could tighten the rope, she uttered, "I cannot be with a person who is married."

If she asked only for a marriage annulment, he would promise it but delay it, thought Ruelle. And right now she needed immediate results.

She couldn't agree too quickly as he had watched her for too long. He knew she wouldn't ask for Caroline's death without flinching. So she gave him something closer to the truth, something he could twist on his own.

Ezekiel's jaw tightened, and for a moment the old fury flickered behind his eyes. He spat, "It is all Megan Belmont's fault. Your stepmother could never see anyone happy." She noticed him let go of the rope as he stood up and asked, "What then? The only way to resolve it is to kill Caroline. But I doubt you would like it."

Ruelle let the silence stretch, because the conclusion he gave was what she was expecting from him. Her lips pursed for a moment before she turned her face away to make sure he didn't pick anything. She said at last,

"She's caused me much pain as have the other people. I have done everything I could as family, I have loved and cared for them. But in the end all I got was distrust..."

"I know you have suffered," Ezekiel placed his hand on hers and she tried hard not to pull away.

"Now I think that... if she didn't exist, no one would have to die. You wouldn't have been compelled to kill others, and we would have been married," Ruelle whispered, the words acidic in her mouth.

If Ruelle had learned anything from the dead woman with the open chest, it was that Ezekiel would not stop on his own. The only way out was through his delusion.

Ezekiel's head tilted, the motion was slow, almost birdlike. He then asked, "If I kill her, will you marry me?"

"Don't phrase it that way... as death makes me uncomfortable," Ruelle replied carefully, her eyes on him. "I am willing to marry a widower rather than a man who already has a wife."

And though she didn't spell it out for him, she had pushed him in the direction she wanted.

"It seems the corpse of the woman scared you back there. If I knew you needed a little time to get the perspective, I would have done it long ago," Ezekiel looked happy, his hand reaching to tuck a piece of her hair that had come undone. "I knew you weren't a fool like Caroline, and you would come to see my side. Once we move out of here, we will marry."

"But you will—"

"Shh," Ezekiel pressed his fingers on her lips and she felt the sting from earlier. "I will take care of everything. You just need to sit here and wait. Where is she? Caroline and Megan Belmont. You won't hold it against me, will you? She was a terrible mother to you. They were all terrible."

Ruelle didn't respond right away, because being too compliant could raise bells in Ezekiel's head. She asked, "You are going to kill everyone who has hurt me?"

"That's right," Ezekiel smiled, feeling the shape of her lips and leaning closer as if he wanted to kiss her.

Then the person he needed to kill was himself before anyone else, thought Ruelle to herself.

"They are in the Slater mansion?" Ezekiel looked eager to visit them, as if wanting to complete the initial plan he had. Ruelle's stomach dropped at his question.

"They are in the...new Belmont's residence," Ruelle lied without blinking. The last thing she wanted was to send him anywhere near the Slater mansion. Right now what she needed was for him to leave. "The humans who were caught, they named Caroline and she's under investigation..." she made up more lies.

Though Ezekiel didn't comment on it, his pleased expression said it all. He said, "Then we should let her rot there. The council will execute her." But when her lips pursed, he asked, "What is it?"

"The Elder Minister is trying to clear her name for the treaty to go smoothly," Ruelle replied, her voice soft and she heard him curse under his breath.

Ruelle watched Ezekiel pull away before he began to pace back and forth in the room. She didn't add another word with the fear of changing things and hoped he would take the bait. She looked away from him to stare at the ground before closing her eyes. The question was if he would take the bait or wait.

And if he decided to wait with her, there were very few options with her abilities not working here.

"I guess there's no reason to wait when we can end the matter right away, right?" Ezekiel paused in his footsteps before turning to her. "I will go and end Caroline."

"People will be looking for you," Ruelle reminded him, wanting to test if he was truly leaving. "It won't be easy."

Ezekiel smiled at her concern and he replied, "You look lovely when you are worried about me. But I know how to deal with them. I haven't survived this long out of luck. I will be back soon with a priest."

He brought a bowl of water, placing it next to her and said, "If you are thirsty and hungry."

Ruelle finally saw Ezekiel step out of the room, but she heard a nearby door close and she could only guess it was the corpse's room so that she wouldn't pick up anything. For the first ten minutes she counted in her mind carefully, she didn't move to make sure he had truly left. She could feel her pulse racing, her mind rushing with adrenaline and she finally got up from the chair. With her limbs bound, she hopped towards the burning lantern.

With one push the glass shattered, with glass pieces falling on the ground.

She had to twist her wrists awkwardly above the flame, close enough that heat scorched her skin. The fibres smoked before they broke and loosened to free her hand. Untying her legs took longer than she had expected, and she picked up the shard of glass along with the lantern in the other hand before she made a move.

Stepping into the corridor with the glowing lantern, she carefully walked in the direction Ezekiel's feet had taken earlier. Her feet picked up pace before she began to run and her footsteps echoed just like her heartbeat in her ears. When she came to what seemed like a dead end, she raised the lantern higher and found a hatch on the roof.

But she wasn't able to reach it as she fell short of height.

Turning back, she murmured, "The chair...!"

Going back in the direction she had come, she slipped the shard of glass in her dress pocket before dragging the chair to where the hatch was. Once the chair was positioned, she climbed on top of it, and the chair creaked under her weight. But when she tried to open the hatch, it didn't budge. She tried to push it one more time, but the hatch never opened.

"He must have placed something on top of it," Ruelle whispered to herself while her breath came uneven at the adrenaline that rushed through her veins and filled her mind.

Looking back at the burning lantern and then back at the wooden hatch, Ruelle brought the fire close to the wood. The flame licked at the wooden frame, and the wood began to blacken. Smoke curled upward, stinging her eyes but she held the lantern steady, feeding the fire to the edge of the hatch, watching the dark stain spread inch by inch. The wood crackled. A thin line of orange traced its way along the grain, eating deeper.

Ruelle could only hope that Ezekiel wouldn't reach the Belmont residence soon. Because there was no one living there and the house was left empty. Even if he did and made his way back, she hoped there was enough time to make contact with Lucian. Better escape from Ezekiel for good.

The wood of the hatch had charred and had begun to crumble while she coughed because of the smoke filling in steadily. Finally, the wood crackled and broke into splinters, and she closed her eyes.

She forced the remaining wood to break. Beyond the charred wood, her palm struck something cold and solid. Stone. Ezekiel had covered the hatch from above. Placing the lantern on the ground, she used all her strength in pushing the stone off while the old chair cracked beneath her at the pressure.

Inch by inch, Ruelle moved the rock out of the way, until she could finally see the sky. The sky carried thin clouds, through which the moonlight passed. Placing her hands on the edges, she was about to climb out when the chair's leg cracked and fell on the ground, leaving her legs to dangle. The chair knocked on the lantern, blowing out the light behind her.

Grabbing the edge of the hatch, she struggled to climb out of there. One of her knees finally pulled up and she climbed out, gasping for air. Trees surrounded her and she pushed herself to stand. This was no time to rest.

She didn't know where she was or how far she was from the harbour or the Slater mansion or the courthouse. But what she knew was that she had to get as far as possible from here.

Looking up at the position of the moon, Ruelle realised the hour was past midnight.

She began to run, her feet carrying her out of there while the trees passed by her in a haze. Her feet felt light, but at the same time heavy with dread of being caught. Every now and then, she looked behind to make sure Ezekiel hadn't caught up to her. When her lungs burned and she couldn't run any further, she paused with her knees giving way, and she fell on the ground.

Her breathing came out harsh and heavy, and her chest felt like it had been squeezed to its limit. Pulling out the shard of glass from her dress pocket, she made the marking.

Tearing her inner skirt, she used her own blood to send a message before making the spell. When the cloth disappeared, relief washed over her.

When she felt something drip from her nose, her hand touched something warm and wet. Looking down at the blood, she frowned.

"It must be stress, right?" Ruelle asked herself because she doubted something so small could harm her body. "What was the other spell—"

She made another circle with her blood, writing down carefully what she had studied. And she then placed both her hands on either side of the pentagon circle, and she could feel it using her energy.

"Work, damn it!" Ruelle screamed in desperation and light appeared on the circle. She pushed herself further, and more drops of blood fell from her nose. The next second, the glowing circle emitted white light into the sky as if heaven had opened its path. But she couldn't keep it for long, and the light disappeared, and so did her strength.

Ruelle then looked down at her forearm.

Far away, the fabric appeared in Lucian's hand, which was inked in fresh blood. Before unfolding it, he knew whom it came from and he read what was written in there.

"What is that?!"

One of the officers had turned in surprise and so did the others, not to look at the fabric, but toward the horizon. There was light, like a thin thread of it, rising above the treeline and then it disappeared.

"It didn't look like lightning…"

Lucian didn't wait, but he ran in the direction of the light and right behind him, the wolf howled.