The figure before her lifted its pale face, wielding a sharp smirk across it's lips. Unlike many of the other spirits Edith had encountered. Lucille was not a black mass like her mother had been, or drenched in crimson like the souls of the women who'd fallen victim to the Sharpes, nor was she a milky version of her former self like her brother had been. Lucille's face was altered, slashed; showing the marks from the final blow Edith inflicted. The hair that rolled over her shoulder, covering the maroon attire she wore. It was as rich and dark as when the woman had been drawing breath.

Her eyes were the worst. Alive, they always held daggers for Edith, a hatred resided in them Edith had wanted to uncover. Now, much more than just hatred stared back - there was darkness.

Edith fought for more words other than the woman's name, but none came. A scream itched at the back of her throat, but it did not dare jump into the air. A glove covered hand reaches out a nimble finger; the figure steps forward while Edith draws back.

"You!" It hisses, stepping forward more. The light from the moon sweeps over it's features, revealing the sinister creature in its full glory. Not only did the apparition appear more mangled than Edith had first assumed, but the darkness in its eyes were VENGEFUL .

The thought of Lucille's ghosts appearing at her door had crossed Edith's mind a number of times. The fear of confronting this woman again had been vague but strong enough to cause question. In the end, she reasoned the woman's spirit would be bound to Allerdale Hall like the others who'd perished there.

"You!" It hissed once more, stepping forward. With each step the spirit approached, Edith took two steps back. "You did this!"

No words came to mind, her mouth opened once more to offer words but only a weak cry entered the air.

Their footsteps became insink, the steps moving forward and backing away at the same time. The back of her foot hit the wall, her back soon followed as the room behind her ran out.

"What do you want?" The words choke past her, leaving a lump in her throat. Edith could handle the living, but the dead was another story.

The reality around her stuck to her clothes, proof that this wasn't a dream but the cruel world she had to endure.

The creature in front of her let out a wet laugh, it echoed around them, bouncing off the walls and repeating as if they were standing in a tunnel and not Edith's room. Lucille now stood a foot away from Edith, a boney finger rose to gently slide down Edith's cheek, leaving a streak of cold in its wake.

"What do you think I want?" The voice rang again, a sickening sweetness to it that turned bitter the more the spirit spoke. "The moment you stepped into my house, I knew you were different. You took everything from me. My home, my brother- "

"You're the one who murdered Thomas!" Edith instantly retorted, her eyes turning from fear into daggers.

"Yes; but you turned him against me! He was perfected before he found you, falling for your blonde hair and 'innocence'." Her already mangled face turned into one of utter disgust. "I should have killed you when I assumed the worst when the two of you stayed at the inn. It was always easy for Thomas to find a pathetic rich women."

Edith kept her body pressed against the wall, her blue eyes not turning away from Lucille. She would not be afraid of this women, she would not allow this women - this dead women - to instill fear in her life again.

"None of the pain you suffered was because of me!"

As Edith remembered, she was the one targeted, she was the one forced to drink poison unwillingly, she was the one that would be number four in their string of murders. All the young blonde had done was fight for her own life.

Trapped in a corner, Edith could do nothing but stare into the black eyes of Lucille. Fear crawled up the blonde's skin, but she refused to back down. After all, Lucille was the dead one.

And then it came to Edith.

She closed her eyes, erasing the fear from her mind, creating a barrier between her and the dead women in front of her. "Leave." The word passed her lips loudly, echoing around the room similar to the way Lucille's had but with strength. A moment passed before the air lightened and Edith felt as if she was able to breath again.

Once her eyes were open, she no longer was staring into the face of death, but at the darkness of her room.

~ XXX ~

Edith had only managed to get a few more hours of sleep before the light of dawn awoke her. The moment she woke, she shed her clothes and indulged in a long-needed bath. Savoring the warmth and security of the water, allowing it to run cold before she drained the water, her skin pruned.

The memories of the night before where clear in her head. The image of Lucille standing in front of her with such rage in her black eyes was more haunting than any ghost Edith had witnessed before. It would happen again, that she was sure of. The presence Lucille had brought with her wasstrong, taking up all the air around her and claiming it as her own.

A feeling Edith would not soon forget.

After several days isolating herself in the house and with the events of the night before still lingering over her head, Edith knew it was time she went into town and got some fresh air.

"Alan?" She knocked on the arch of his open door once she was fully dressed and her hair was pinned up and out of her face.

The blond man was standing over a pile of papers, his forehead creased as he examined the pile. She had to knock three times before he was drawn from whatever he'd been pondering. The moment his eyes settled on hers, his face light up, the crease disappearing from his forehead. Not even a moment later, he was limping forward to greet her.

"I thought you'd lock yourself in your study again."

"Not today; I need a bit of fresh air." The smile on her face blossomed as Alan's did. "If you're not too busy, I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me."

"I don't have any appointments today."

"Good!" She turned and started down the hall, her pace slow to make it ease for Alan to keep up. "I think it's about time I show my face again anyway, dispel these rumors that I've suddenly turned into a circus attraction."

She knew the rumors, some spread by Alan's mother, others spread by women just looking for something to gossip about. For some reason, Edith was a hot topic, even after months had passed since she'd returned home. Maybe it was due to the fact she rarely went into town. The hens chattered too much for her ears to handle. But she would humor them once in awhile. Plus, the last thing Edith wanted them to think was that they won.

(There was also a small hope in the back of her mind that someone would dare bring up the ghastly rumor of her father being a drunk - she was ready to defend her father. )

They take a carriage into town and stop at the bookstore first, the only place Edith really wants to go. Alan suggested the two of them gather a few other things while their out. The weather is warm as the seasons change, the bookstore warmer than the outside as the two of them step inside.

"Just think," Alan says as he steps into the bookstore beside her. "Soon your book will be on display for purchase."

There is so much faith in his words, so much admiration that sometimes Edith has trouble coming up with words to say. Comments like that always part his lips when they step into the bookstore, and she cannot help but smile at the thought. The manuscript that was slowly forming on her desk was something she was proud of. Despite the memories she was reliving along with the mass of emotions, she was pouring her heart and soul into the project and would not bat an eye at accepting praise for it.

"It's not like you'll have to buy a copy," She smirks, strolling deeper into the store.

"Of course I will buy a copy!"

A chuckle leave her lips as she turns slightly, "I meant, I'm not going to make you buy one. Once it goes into print, it will be my gift to you."

"You think that will stop me from buying an extra copy?" A gentle laugh passes his lips. Edith just rolls her eyes and continues to the back of the store.

She had been so involved in her own novel, reading had become something she had to think about. It was strange that she was having trouble to find the time to read when she had all the time on her hands. When she wasn't writing, her mind was occupied by other things.

With the events of last night still not shaken from her thoughts, she knew it was time for her to step back from writing, if only for a day or two, and read something to distract herself.

Delicate fingers skimmed the titles on the shelves, searching for something that peaked her interest she had not read before. The options were minimal at best. One of the reasons being the fact she was always an avid reader, always begging her father to buy her a story whenever the two of them went out. But the reason this time was a little more complicated than that. Although there were plenty of books that she'd never picked up before, they all seemed to share the same type of story.

Romance.

Her mind was sick of romance novels and stories of lost love. She'd read enough for two lifetimes. And the only reason her story included the idea at all was due to the fact it was her true story.

"No luck with something interesting?" Alan says, appearing beside her.

"I guess I've read them all."

~ XXX ~

It was about an hour later, after Edith had picked through a number of titles and decided she'd select one blindly and hope for the best. She needed something new to read regardless of the genre it fell under. Now her and Alan strolled down the road, their arms linked.

Alan wanted to prepare a stew tonight and they needed ingredients. Edith didn't mind, she need the leg stretch and fresh air more than she realized.

Once they arrive at the market, Edith mentions how she'd like to take a peak in the dress shop and she'll meet Alan outside once done.

She hasn't much need for a dress, it's rare for her to attend parties or go out on occasion, but that did not mean she didn't like to admire the beautiful lace. Her eyes are instantly drawn to the beautiful sun-kissed dress that is displayed towards the back. Once she is in front of it, her fingers lightly caress the silk fabric, taking in the simplistic beauty of the dress.

A moment passes before she is taking it and quickly finding a mirror to press the dress to herself and decide how she'd look wearing it.

"Why bother? It's not like you have anywhere to wear it."

Edith does not turn around at the voice, she keeps her eyes on the dress in the reflection. A moment passes before a women is wedged in the corner of the mirror.

The women in question is a girl Edith attended school with. They'd never been particularly fond of each other, but they'd always been civil. But, by the expression etched onto the other blonde's face, that the civil nature between them was about to end.

Edith turns, keeping the dress press up against her front. An easy smile falls onto her face, a lightness to her eyes. "Is it wrong from a women to simply wear something nice around her house?"

That was her intentions because the moment Mary spoke, Edith had made up her mind, she would buy the dress and not feel ashamed if no one other than herself and Alan saw her in it.

"It is rather sad, even for you. Don't you think Edith?"

All of these attempts to anger Edith rolled off the blonde's back. All of this was so petty, she had no time for such things. Without another word, Edith was careful not to allow the dress to sweep the floor as she headed to the register.

There was no need to pay much attention to the price. Her father left her with a massive sum. (The very thing she was almost killed for.)

Mary was behind her, buying a hand mirror. Her face was scrunched up, as if there was a foul smell in the air. Edith knew she should have just kept to her own business, but the words slipped passed her lips before she was able to stop them. "I'd be careful Mary, you don't want to hold your face like that for too long. You wouldn't want it to stay that way?"

The woman's face instantly dropped. Instead of her forehead having creases, it was now flat, her mouth slightly ajar. Edith turned back to pay for the dress she'd be wearing on Sunday.

It did not take long for the dress to be placed in a box, bought and paid for.

"Goodbye, Mary!" Edith says as she exits the store, her voice layered in a fake sweetness.

Alan is perched on a bench, his cain resting against his left leg as his eyes scan the newspaper. Edith is silent as she moves to sit beside him. Almost instantly he sets the paper down, eyes moving from hers to the box in her lap.

"I didn't think you'd buy something,"

She just shrugs.

~ XXX ~

The book she bought today rested open on her lap but to the fifth page of the story.

She had not picked up a romance story; she'd picked up a ghost story. One that, once she realized what it was, left chills up and down her arms.

Nightmares plagued her nights of the dead, the visit from Lucille the night before had still not fully left her, and now she laid awake in bed, knowing there would soon be another knock at her door.