"Hecatey, please, you're making a fool of yourself."

There's a hand.

No. A claw.

She sees it reach for her. It takes her by the wrist and drags her off her feet. She feels the wood disappearing under her. Her knees scrape the wood as she tries to grab the side of the table. Thomas Abott stares at her with big eyes, not winking or moving as he's stuck in fear.

Her little hand stuck in its grip begins to burn. She can feel it turn raw, almost pulse as she tries to yank her arm back.

"Taxidermy is not for girls, you stupid girl. We don't kill in this family. Do you understand?" Her ears hurt from the inside. She doesn't hear the shrill high words.

The voice envelopes her head and rings through her skull. Thomas tries to reach for her, but his father holds him back. His childish blond hairs peek out from between his father's knuckles as he pulls him back by his hair. Hecatey tries to reach for him, for something, but she can't. It's too far away. She's too short. It makes her want to cover her ears and scream. The itches under her skin turn into flames. Her other hand scratches at the sides of her face to maybe take the skin off to make it stop burning to make the static stop to make it stop make it stop stop, stop. Stop.



"I'm afraid you are unable to conceive." The hand of Lorance Morristew fell on the lap of his wife. She dropped it and as she did her head tipped. The shiny name plate on the doctor's desk reflected in her eyes. The name that costed her husband thousands more than any other in the city.

She started to laugh. A simple laugh, showing her white and beautifully dangerous teeth. "That's not right," she says, moving forward on her chair. She turns to her husband. Her eyes are big. He can see them fill with misunderstanding.
There was an everlasting curse on Vonne women. None of them were supposed to live or die happily. And here he thought he could prove her wrong with a physical gift of their love. He can't give her anything but a sigh.
She looks back at the doctor. He's circling his ring around his finger in his big leather chair, behind the big bold desk. "That isn't right. I'm having a baby." Her voice wavered more with every word. "I'm sorry Ma'am. There is nothing I can do."
"No!" She jumps up, but as she hears her harsh echo she fall back down. "I should be able to have a baby. There's nothing wrong with me! I having a baby, just like any other woman!"
"Darlin-"
"No! I'm having a baby!"



"Ma'am? Are you well?"

There's an image of a crowd. They're standing around something, in a room. They're smiling, laughing and talking, drinks in hand. Champagne? A celebration. They're talking about a portrait. A family. She knows them.
It's her family. There are two beautiful girls among the crowd. They move to stand next to her. She looks so happy.

"Ma'am, are you lost?"

Hecatey looked down at the nurse behind the desk. Her eyes wandered to her clothes.
Purple shoes... It's a Tuesday already?

"No, I'm afraid I'll handle this, Elizabeth." Doctor Trinkley dropped whatever paper he'd been working on and hurried over to the rather distracted looking Hecatey Morristew. He took her gently by the arm, put it around his, and guided her to the hallway. The sounds of God's Eye distanced more with every step into the hallway.
He watched her closely and uncomfortably, but seeing her eyes refocus on the checkered ground made him breathe normally again. He courageously placed a hand on the small of her back and escorted her to his office.

"I wasn't expecting you today." He let go of her and moved back a chair. Madame Morristew took place and looked down at her fingers. She heard him running around her. Papers flying and things falling at his attempt to clean his mess up.

His office was a make shift bunker for lonely psychologists and insomniacs. There were cheap chairs put together to sleep on, supported under books more worth than some estates. Only cups, no plates. It was altogether an obscene mess, but that was quite alright for her. Rest began to flow into her lungs with every breath.

"Please don't take my silence for reluctance, or fear." She leaned back, as much as her dress would allow. Nicholas grabbed a two handfuls of books from his desk chair and put it on the ground beside it. As he sat down he said, "I wouldn't dream of it, Ma'am."

"Nicholas." She stared at his liquor bottle filled fire place, titles of books she couldn't pronounce and a stack of portraits. The portraits were off the wall against a table. The colorless cloth over it hiding their identities.

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"Thank you, for helping me." She mouthed more than said, but to Nicholas' ears it sounded more lovely. He reached for his right hand drawer and pulled out neatly folded papers. In all the chaos he didn't dare to lose this out of mind. "Mind my boldness, but what have I helped you with?"

"A bad dream, I'm afraid. No, it's, it has been brought to my knowledge that my husband decided to take my vows in vain, to spend the rest of his days elsewhere." As she ended her sentence she pursed her lips and lifted her cane up to put it down again.


"There's no need for poetry here. He's leaving you."

Madame Morristew nodded, looking away. "I ask you not lay pity upon me, and, and the house-"

"On you? Never. Ma'am, this won't affect your custody. The settlement has been cleared and we don't have in interest in your 'dance behind doors', as you say."

He slid the papers over the desk. "I know this is highly out of custom, today, but shall we walk? I think I can let you in for an hour, not more."




As the thumping of the cane traveled down the hallway, Madame read the papers that Doctor Nicholas had given her. And after she'd finished she folded it in her purse and resumed silence, until she felt a moment, like she often does, to break it.

"I have been wondering about your mind of late, Nicholas." They walked up the last stairs. "Do tell."

"There's a term, a good friend of mine uses it. For me."

"Are he and I acquainted?" Doctor Nicholas searched his pockets for the keys to the white door. "I can't imagine so, he's Swiss and too bold for you, but I think you should talk to him."

And as he opened the door all topics went up in smoke when she saw the interior of the cage again. The Doctor completely forgotten, Madame Hecatey walked past him. She slid off her gloves, revealing the rest of her arms and folding them over the head of her cane. Shoes tumbled off with the next steps. Her pompous feathered hat fell down her back and rolled down next to her shoes.

Doctor Nicholas mouth went dry. His eyes so big they teared up. As he blinked himself back into his head he hurried over to pick up the cane, putting it against the wall before running after her.

Hecatey opened the cage door. The long creak traveled through the room, but didn't echo.
As she leaned back, door closed and against her spine, her hand sneaked between the bars and locked it again. Nicholas fell against the steal. He rambled the bars. "Ma'am? What are you doing?"

He looked down at his keys in her hand. His keys, that were in his pocket a moment ago.

"Ma'am, if you're in danger I cannot be there to help you!" He saw his keys fly into a bush.
He closed his eyes in maybe regret or fear, but in all he really did not want to see what was next.
There was a silence, that forgot all about him. It didn't want him there.
She used him here and now she was pushing him back. The air in the room felt thinner. He yelled after her one more time. This time felt more desperate, more personal.

Hecatey shushed him. Because something was coming. Doctor Nicholas opened his eyes.

There she stood in all her 5'8 glory staring up at a wolf man. A wolf man they didn't show in theaters nor circuses because these kind of wolf men didn't get caught. It towered over her so much it bend down to smell her hair. Slowly, almost carefully, it moved along her silhouette. Nicholas now saw the thinner one crouching left behind them in the bushes. It looked ready to pounce. Glass eyes like an animal in the night.

"I want to see my girls."

The wolf man stopped moving over her. It's human nose almost touching her neck. He understood her. Nicholas' had never seen such a reaction for him in all the tests he put them through. They had been playing dumb. Perhaps because, unlike Madame Hecatey, Nicholas had also been playing dumb, for them at least.

Madame smiled. Only for the wolf man. But it wasn't a normal smile. It was an impostor of a smile, simply using the same muscles.

Yes, this was a smile only for him, because it wasn't a smile. She was baring teeth.
Like any beast would for her young.

Notes

If you have some improvements or found mistakes please tell me

XX

Don't be fooled by beauty. There's a monster hidden in here.