Chapter 53 Don't Ever Leave the Tower
Continuation...
The lighthouse lamp sparked above Gertrude’s head. The light moved like a steady breath, patient, unbothered... She watched it for a moment, trying to borrow its calmness.
Below, the torch on the water grew brighter. Ingrid is getting nearer and nearer every second. The narrow windows were set too high, too small. The stairs curled down into darkness, the same path Ingrid would soon climb. She was trapped! She quickly hid below the broken railings and desperately looked beyond the horizon.
Ingrid’s boat cut through the waves with purpose. Each dip of the oar pulled her closer to the tower, closer to Gertrude’s hiding place. The fire in Ingrid’s hand burned sharp and hungry, its reflection breaking across the black and blue gloomy water.
Gertrude stepped back from the railing. Her heart hammered so hard she felt it everywhere in her body.
“No,” she whispered again, as if the word could turn the boat around.
Gertrude pressed her palm against the stone wall. It was cold, steady, solid. Constantine had sent her here for a reason.
She closed her eyes and breathed in the smell of oil and salt. The light above creaked again, louder this time, as if waking from sleep.
“Protect me,” she murmured, unsure if she spoke to the tower, to Constantine, or to something older still. Her breath hitched when she had found her way to escape... a spark of hope. Her hands reached towards the loose and weak bricks and tore them down. It seemed like it was a secret doorway... a passage. She keeps on panting, head lowered down, hiding beneath the tall grasses and boulder of rocks. As if it was built for her to escape out of the tower. She ran across the boulders, the rock, and the sands, until her feet reached the water. She knew had to go back to the manor.
Outside, Ingrid’s boat struck the rocks with a dull crack.
The head mistress stepped onto the shore, skirts lifted, boots splashing in shallow water. Her face was calm, yet cunning. Too cunning it almost sending a shiver down the poor lamb Gertrude. Ingrid raised the torch and smiled up at the tower.
“Come on out, Gertrude,” Ingrid called, her voice smooth and warm. “There’s nowhere else to go.”
Her hands dying for the torchlight to kiss the ground and burn the tower of bricks. Behind the tower, Gertrude had finally escaped, running for her life. The boat was resting on the other side of the tower's deck and there is no way for her to turn around.
She almost cried, sighting a floating boat just across the water bend. She stopped her mouth from shouting help. Instead, she raced the water, hoping she could catch the fisherman.
But the more she gets closer, it goes farther and farther...
A faint smell of smoke began to scatter around, mixing with the scent of sea salt water. She slowly looked behind, scared for what's waiting for her.
Her eyes widened upon seeing the tower, burning with orange fire, getting higher and stronger, peeling the color off the lighthouse. "No!!!" she tried to move her feet but it was glued underwater.
Gertrude looked again at the boat, seeking for help. "Anybody! Please!" she cried.
But the man seemed to be deaf with her plea, stiff as rock, cold as the water. Until it slowly turned its head... it was an old man. An ordinary man.
"Mister! Please!" she begged.
"Oh dear, sweet child." He helped her get aboard with ease.
She continued on crying, pleasing the stranger to take her back to the manor. But the old man was just silently paddling away.
"I told you to take me back to the manor, please! I beg of you!"
The fire gotten bigger as the dark smoke flies up above.
"Shush... you are saved now, dear child. Why bother going back?"
"My husband... he is still in there."
"He warned you to never leave the lighthouse. Why did you disobey him?"
Gertrude gasped, her heart pounding hard, trying to escape out of her ribs as the old man did not stop paddling the oars. His head slowly turned around, revealing her nightmare.
She screamed, her throat and lungs dried up. "Now, now, do not be afraid, Gertrude..."
She positioned herself, almost leaping out of the boat.
When a dark, fast figure floated around. Followed by a loud cawing of the black raven bird as the rain poured heavily down from the angry skies. The surrounding is filled with the growling of the clouds and the creature as if the whole world will be exploding.
Gertrude heartily closed her eyes, looking up while feeling every teardrop and raindrop fall down her cheeks... her hair and clothes. She sniffed, feeling relieved.
She knew she is finally saved.