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Image for the poem A Nightmare of Tiffauges Castle: Part Two

A Nightmare of Tiffauges Castle: Part Two

- A Nightmare of Tiffauges Castle: Part Two -

   I was still within the same dream, a nightmare about a past life I lived as a little girl who ended up on the receiving end of the affections of one of history's most notorious men... Gilles de Rais. I was twelve winters old, if that, and had ranged far from my home due to a falling out I had with my family that did cause me to foolishly run away. And each day that I spent in this man's castle... the castle of Bluebeard, as I called him and as he was more colorfully known... I feared for my sanity as well as my life. For the most part, his young servant Poitou never bothered me again after the horror of the night when he tried to do as he had with me. The wickedness of his deeds made it that I never trusted him again, not that I had prior anyway. First impressions mean a lot, and my first impression of Poitou was that he was most pompous and self-centered. Full of self-importance, and yet deep down containing a heart that was truly vicious and cruel from years of actually feeling lesser than other men. In short, he was a bully who had become such due to feelings of worthlessness. Had he once been like me, someone who had known all manner of mistreatment by one's very own family? Yet unlike me, it had made him become a monster. I had no doubt that my lord, the lord of the castle... Gilles himself... was also a monster. But like in that old fairy tale of Beauty and the Beast I had fallen in love with him despite that, and feared that perhaps one day I might myself also become a monster just like him. Part of me longed to return home, but part of me knew what awaited me there and how equally horrifying it would be if I did so. At least here, it seemed that I was regarded almost like a princess. But there was the matter of the man's wife, who had been gone from the castle since before I had arrived. What would she make of me on  her return? As the saying goes, when the cat is away the mice shall play. And there was a terrifying game being played.

   The real madness began during a journey to some ancient grove in the forest where of old druids were said to have made brutal blood sacrifices to their deities. Gods that were now nameless, and yet which I learned the lord of the castle continued to worship and revere. His deity of choice was a dark goddess... a goddess of the night, and he made incantations to her in Latin and other tongues I did not recognize. I being of a peasant family should not have recognized even the Latin, but I did. I should not have been a mature minded sort, being so young as I was. Yet, I was! Everything about me was a contradiction, and yet it all made sense to me. When you are yourself, everything makes sense to you. I realized that Gilles was much the same way, he made sense to himself even if others thought him to be insane. It was in the middle of winter when the ritual in the grove was undertaken and we were all dressed in warm furs and thick leathers with a layer of padded cloth beneath. Warm enough for this undertaking! It was cold out, the trees were covered with snow and ice, and it was like being in another world. I was happy not to be out wandering in such weather. This, surely, would have been the death of me! But what I witnessed, it chilled me to the bone all the same no matter the clothing that warmed by body. The grove was strange, for from the trees hung animal skulls and many of the trees were marked by runes etched into them. In my time with him, the lord of the castle had taught me much of the arcane arts and I knew of runes. Of what they were, what they meant, and how they were used. In this case, they were to inscribe names of various lesser spirits and divinities of the ancient world. One of the servants brought a black goat on a thick rope leash, and the goat was tied to the thickest of the oaks in the grove. Gilles did call out to the gods, attempting to do I knew not what thereby. And at the height of his calling out, one of the servants, the one that had brought the goat hither, did slash the animal's throat with a sharp knife, spilling of its' life's blood unto the virgin white of the snow. To me, it symbolized the virginity I had lost to my lord, when he finally took me prior to setting out on this excursion. I refuse to recount the details of that, of our night of intimacy. It was hard enough to tell of what passed between Poitou and I... both were truly ordeals in every sense of that word. Except, with my lord... the pain I felt on losing my maidenhood, it was soothed by his tenderness and his deep love for me. I had, in contrast, only undying hate for Poitou.

   I said nothing during the blood sacrifice ritual in the grove. I did not even cry out, or feel shock at all, when Gilles took the animal's remaining blood which had not yet touched the snow... and he collected it into a small silver bowl with peculiar designs etched upon its' surface. He drank of this, and he drank of it until he had drained the bowl of its' crimson contents. Why he did this was not explained to me, what the meaning or symbolism of it was went unspoken and unrevealed. We waited in the grove for a time, as if expecting something to happen, and after a while of this... chanting was undertaken. After that, all fell into silence and we departed the grove and returned to the castle. Much later on, the lord would tell me that he was attempting to cross over into some world beyond our own where he was convinced that the spirit of his beloved Jeanne d'Arc was waiting for him. An old man who professed to be a druid in secret confided in me that her soul was already well into its' next incarnation by now. Nothing at all did await the lord of the castle in that other world... save perhaps things that should not be roused or toyed with. I felt terror in my heart, considering that this meant that people actually feared to tell the lord that he was wrong. That he acted in a way that was mistaken or misguided. People like Poitou made it that much worse by fueling Gilles' obsession and making him believe that he was doing right. I asked of the lord myself one evening whilst we sat together in the study chamber down the hall from our chambers that we shared together each night: “My lord, why do you persist in trying to reach that other world? It is, I should think, entirely likely that she whom you once did love so much would almost certainly have to by now be walking in other flesh. For I doubt she would want any part of that same Christian variant of paradise that had condemned her to death, even if her love for God was absolute.” I did not speak at all like a child any longer... I had learned too much, seen too much, until at last I became something as was other than a child, no matter my physical age. Gilles was taken aback both by my growing maturity and by what I had said to him just then. He rubbed his chin, deep in thought, gazing out of the window nearby... and he said unto me: “I have begun to suspect as much, though I hate to admit to it. Each and every year this same time, I have attempted this ritual... and every time, naught came of it. I have also... communed with demons and other things... in an attempt to learn secrets that I wish I had not. None of it granted me any peace, and none of it achieved what I longed for the most. I have to accept that she is beyond my reach now... and I have to accept that the children whose blood I had also offered up, mostly on the advisement of certain people whom I now no longer bother with, those same children shall like as not never forgive me for my former wickedness. Answer me this, little Jeanne... am I evil?” I had to think about that question deeply. It would be hard to answer it without offending the man. I asked him of this, inquiring: “My lord... my love... if I answer you truly, will you punish me for it if I tell you truth or will you allow me to speak my mind freely?” He frowned, and said unto me in answer: “No! Never. I want to heart the truth for once... not like I normally receive from Poitou and other sycophants like him. From you, I only desire the truth. No one should be punished for speaking truly!” I then said truly to the lord: “Gilles... you have done some profoundly evil things, no matter the rightness in your reasons for doing them. You can be right in your mind, and in your heart, but wrong in your deeds. Their spirits, I have no doubt, will plague your dreams and nightmares on many nights. If they haunt the halls of this castle, it would not surprise me! But if you repent of those deeds truly, and do them no more, how shall it be that they will not forgive you? The more penance you do, the more they will see you are a goodly man who has done terrible things our of simply being misguided. Beyond that, I know not what to say.” I saw tears in his eyes, and he began to sob bitterly... his body practically convulsing from sobbing as hard as he was. I put my arms around him, kissed his cheek, and whispered to him sweetly: “I forgive you, my lord! If that is any consolation at all.” He looked deeply into my eyes, and said unto me: “It is heartbreaking for me to think that love for one so saintly as the previous Jeanne... drove me to act like a demon from Hell itself. You are a good little girl, and a better wife to me than my own I daresay! If one so pure as yourself can forgive me... then perhaps I am not yet damned. I need to consider my penance.”

   He sent money and food the families of the murdered children... and maintained that their deaths had all been accidental, so that those same families might not pursue any vengeance against him. It seemed to me a small deceit, and he was clearly attempting to atone for his past evils by doing good. However, I suspected that one day the blood he had spilled would most certainly catch up to him. And I had not a clear answer for what might happen to me should such a thing befall. The families asked only that those same children's bodies be returned unto them and no longer kept on the grounds of the castle. And then it was that Gilles ordered the remains be disinterred and returned to their families. With each child, the lord had buried them with a scroll containing the child's name and that of its' family... so that it was an easy matter to know which deceased child went to which family. This grim kindness, the returning of those children to their families, did seem to make the lord feel much better and do much to ease what I took to be the weight of his burdened conscience. But it was a dark undertaking, and one that I am very happy that I was not involved in directly. Although Gilles went with the men to each of the families on the event of the children's return to them, and in person he apologized for being so remiss in his duties as to have allowed the children to perish at all. I doubt one could have counted how many visits it took to do this, and even afterwards not all the children were accounted for. Not every family was able to be so easily satisfied, nor satisfied at all. And many accused him flat out of being responsible for the death of their child or children. It was more than a guilty conscience that now plagued this man! It was a dark and harsh reality... and try as he may, he would never be able to change that reality for a brighter one. I then realized, that at some point I was certain to be in danger. But I convinced myself that I was afraid and worried over nothing, and continued to live as I had been. I thought only of the present, for it was clear my past was gone and my future was uncertain. The Beast had become a handsome prince at last, forsaking his former savagery! But this was not a fairy tale, and I knew there could be no happy ending.

   There were other, stranger events that transpired which to my horror called up forces that had to have been from Hell itself or some realm not so very distantly related thereto. One afternoon in the earliest of all the days of springtime, just after the snows had all melted... I heard a scream coming from the rooms that belonged to the upstairs servants, the ones that took care of the upper floors of the castle. I rushed, in order to see what was the matter, and stumbled into the room that was the source of the disturbance. Only to see a sight that made me scream and clasp my hands over my eyes. A horse's severed head had been mounted on one of the posts of a servant's bed, and the flash had been cut away from it exposing a thin layer of bloody muscle tissue over bone. Chained to the bed was a little blonde haired boy, and he was dressed in the attire of a noble girl. He appeared feral and entirely out of his mind with fear, rage... and I know not what else. I cried out to him: “What is the matter, little boy? Oh goodness, what in the world have they done to you!” But he only growled at me and snarled, and said a single lucid phrase to me in between: “Set me free! Please, set me free. Before the demon steals my mind.” I asked one of the servants what happened here, and she told me as she led me out of the room: “That boy, his name I do believe is Pierre... he was brought here to keep him safe because his parents got the Church involved as soon as they noticed he preferred to wear girl's clothing rather than boy's. The Church would, if what so befell Jeanne d'Arc is anything to go by, have surely brought about the boy's death. The lord had both of the parents killed, and decided to take Pierre under his protection. We should have informed you, but it slipped everyone's minds milady! Not long after the boy was brought here, he became as you see him at present... quite mad and feral acting. He is the one who did that to the horse, not any of us. We keep at it, trying to reach whatever is still human in the boy but he does appear to be possessed by some devil, demon, or other sort of evil spirit. Best to avoid Pierre for now, at the least until he calms down a bit.” I said to the woman, shocked: “Wait a moment! Gilles had the boy's parents killed? That is insane.” and the woman explained: “It was all a mercy, they were abusing the boy and likely caused his possession.”

   “What made the other servants scream, then?” I inquired, and the woman who was escorting me out of that room of horrors and down the hall towards a quieter area for now said unto me in reply: “It does seem that you were not the only one who had not been informed of the boy's present condition. He was not like this when he first arrived, but became like this quite suddenly. If he was able to do that to that horse, he could easily do the same to a person! We must not set him free until this passes. Then, we will have to see what can be done for the boy, if anything.” I then asked her: “And what if nothing can at all be done for him?” She answered: “Either he spends the rest of his life like this then... or perhaps death, might be a mercy. I am not a hard woman, milady! Please do not mistake my words. I speak only from a place of compassion in this case. If this be not possession, it clearly is madness... either way, I myself know of no way to handle such things. Perhaps the lord will know best, as he is well versed in the dark matters of the arcane, and knows much of the human mind as well. Either he, or one of his associates.” I had a sudden impulse just then, and rushed back to the room, looked into the boy's eyes whilst some of the servants who remained there were trying to calm him... and I said to Pierre: “Pierre! Listen unto me, please. I want to help you, but you need to tell me what is wrong... why you killed that horse. And what it is you want.” The boy then said unto me: “I want no one to hurt me. Never, ever again! Not like my father did, whilst mother did nothing but watched. I am sorry about the horse... it was all because of so many years of pain. I lashed out, I was foolish. I am sorry. Please, set me free now I beg!” His eyes, they were pleading with me. He was only ten years old, two years younger than I was at the time. As of that past winter's passing into spring, I was now thirteen winters of age... so I actually do rather suppose that made him three years younger. But in any case, I felt almost a motherly or older sisterly need to be protecting him. I ordered the servants to unchain the boy. “Do it! Remove the shackles and see what he does after that. If he gets violent, we can always restrain him again.” I picked up a small knife from one of the nearby tables. I said to Pierre: “If you try to tear my face off, or whatever it is you did to the horse I swear by all that is unholy I will not hesitate to cut you, or kill you if you force me to. Understand me, boy?” The boy nodded his head, smiled, and said: “Whatever was in me that drove me to do that, it has passed. I promise, I swear to God almighty I will not be violent like that again. And, by the way... that is the knife I used on the horse. The servants cleaned it up and were going to remove it just now when you walked back in.” Knife still in hand, I waited as the servants unchained the boy, one of them giving me fair warning by saying: “If he goes mad again, it will be on your head milady! This is ill advised, in cases of demonic possession especially.” I then decided to test and see if he actually was possessed. I did ask of the boy as the shackles were removed and he rubbed his sore wrists... which looked bloody from his straining against the metal of the shackles: “Boy, I take it your name is Pierre. That is indeed your name, is it not? I mean, that is who I am talking to right now, I suppose.” The boy smiled calmly, and answered: “Of course! My name is indeed Pierre, as given me by mother when I was born. It was the only kindness she ever did me, giving me a good name like that. Would that it were a girl's name, I daresay though! I don't really like being a boy. Truth be put to it, I'd rather be called Polly than Pierre.” I smiled, and said to the servants: “No danger of possession here! He just doesn't feel right in his skin is all. I'll wager that is part of his pent up anger too, as much as anything his father ever did to him.” Then, I turned back to the boy and said to him: “So Pierre... would you prefer we all call you Polly from now on? Because I could order it be done, I have the ear of the lord of this castle and he could demand it be done and everyone would have to do it then. If you want to be called a girl instead of a boy, that could be made to happen also. What say you?” The little child then breathed heavily, letting go of all of his pent up anger, frustration, pain and rage, and he at last said unto me: “And what if I do like being a boy but just prefer to look like a girl? I would love to be called Polly, but still be considered a boy.” I said unto him then: “Then, so it shall be! I am the lady of this castle, Polly. I may not have a noble title and I may not be the lord's wife, but I am in full charge of things here, when the lord is away... or occupied.”

   With that assurance, with that guarantee, the fair haired boy with the deep brown eyes was given the name of Polly and allowed to dress in the attire of a girl. His long hair was styled in a girl's style, and it was given unto all within the castle that he was to be treated respectfully and with care. All of his most fond of wishes were to be seen to, and I was not wrong in any of this. For after weeks had passed, Polly never once did go feral or vicious again. Instead, the boy remained the very epitome of kindness. I saw that he was well mannered, cultured beyond most peasant children, and well disposed toward flights of fantastic imagination of that sort all children are supposed to have. I too had that, but felt mature in all manner of ways well beyond my years... so that it did not come across obviously to others. But the lord knew that side of me, and I allowed Polly to know it also. If only so that he could realize he was not the only child in the castle after all. In the months that followed, Gilles doted on the boy and treated him as a son with myself as the boy's mother. I had decided that was my role for the boy rather than a sister. It was good for him to have parents who loved him and did not mistreat him, and I was happy to prove in all ways whatever little Polly needed most. I warned Poitou to keep away from Polly and told him that if any harm was to befall the boy at his hands then I would have Poitou flayed alive for it. Yes, in truth I had become cruel and had a mildly sadistic streak to me the longer I had been in that castle. My life had changed me, my relationship with the lord of the castle had changed me, and I had become every bit the imperious noblewoman when I had a want to behave in that way. Poitou came to fear me, for he heard the rumors about how I had a servant tortured to death for daring to make lewd comments about me. I was beginning to develop in my body, and had goodly sized breasts, for one so young. Not uncommon at all for a girl of thirteen years! But that servant had crossed the line by saying he would like to put his hands on them to give them a squeeze. I had him chained to a wall and ordered a cord be wrapped tight around his head until his eyes bulged to popping from their sockets. Of course, this killed the man! I so ordered him flayed alive after that, and had the skin sent to Poitou with a note pinned to it saying: “This is what happens to men who push me too far, Poitou. If you value your life, never cross me again!” So, when I told him he was never to harass, harm, or so much as touch Polly in any way, he took me quite seriously and said unto me with undisguised hatred but forced obedience: “It shall be as you command, dread lady! I value my life and my hide too much to defy you a second time.” He still bore the scars on his genitals from the lord's displeasure with him, and he knew I had become capable of worse horrors. I do not honestly know why the sight of that horse's head and the feral boy had disturbed me so much. In truth, I suppose I had simply not been expecting such a sight and it shocked me due to that. Or perhaps, it reminded me of a nightmare I used to have as a baby about a ghostly horse that pursued me through a dark forest. Either way, Polly was the better for having met me and I was happy that I had reached him.

   I was at the midpoint of many things, and had to come to terms with just as many. No matter how oft or how many times Gilles and I made love... in the end, it would seem I was not meant to carry a child of his. He was not sterile, for his wife had given him a daughter though he never spoke of her to me. I knew her name only, that it was Marie... but that was all I knew of her in any capacity. It seemed that I was barren, and unable to birth a child, and one of the castle physicians even said as much of me. For, in the course of the next year when nine months full had passed and I was still not with child, the truth of this became evident to all. The lord still loved me, for it was never a child he wanted from me... but someone to love, to confide in, and to teach his deepest and darkest secrets to. I was his heir, and he did intend for me to one day become his spiritual successor in the dark arts. He had no son to carry on any legacy of his, and so... though I was a girl... I intended to be the heir he needed. Polly was respected by all within the castle, and as that next winter came unto the land there was a peacefulness the like of that which this land had not known in perhaps all of its' history. At least, that was the ideal that I so allowed myself to believe! For... I knew nothing at all, of the lord's doings and interactions in the greater world.

   He had dealings with sorcerers, alchemists, necromancers and druids from all across the land, and he even held discourses with ones from beyond, from other more distant lands. Nobles from kingdoms and lands the likes of Wallachia and Moldavia, and countries as far flung as Italy and Spain. It was almost as if he was attempting to amass all the occult secrets of the entire world, or so it seemed to me. And I could not even so much as guess at his motivations for doing so! He no longer was trying to reach at all the soul and spirit of Jeanne d'Arc, so that much I was certain of. But he spoke sometimes of a fear of death, and a fear of losing anyone else that he loved... and I suspect he wanted to achieve immortality, or allow others he loved to achieve it at the very least even if it was to be denied him. This was not the goal of a rational man, and I feared that he was falling into madness more profound than any the tales of him ever claimed he had. He brooded much, and often, and read massive tomes and books of lore deep into the hours of the night well past the midnight hour. He immersed himself in forbidden studies, and he held strange rites and rituals that he forbade even I from attending. In all that time, Polly and I grew ever closer and he was very much indeed like a son to me. We played games together, as children are of a want to do, and I kept on eye on him and made certain he never got into any trouble as we did so. I read stories to him as he fell asleep every night, and when it was coldest or when it stormed I let him sleep in my bed with me so that he might not be afraid as dreams came unto him. Nothing stopped my own nightmares, and if anything they increased over time despite how peaceful my life had become. I had dreadful visions, and fears entered into my heart that I dared speak of to no one. Yet, each dawn... when Polly smiled at me, I would always smile back and try to put aside any fears in order to be happy. I realized very quickly, that Polly and I were falling in love... and we both feared what might happen if the lord of the castle found out. For, what if he did not approve of our growing affection? We had been sharing the same bedchambers for some time now... we slept together, dreamed together, and after a bit we began to explore each other's bodies and found ourselves indulging in more physical forms of our love. I had known Polly before... in other lives... and I knew when that life was over we would seek out and find each other again in lives and incarnations in the future. Gilles had not come to me in so long a time, that I suspected he had another plaything other than me... a new princess to dote upon perhaps. Or perhaps his wife was now occupying his time. The castle was large, and I did not always know what did in fact go on in one part of it or another. Polly and I would sometimes sneak out of the castle and go to play together in the meadows... as if we were two normal children. We would sometimes sneak out just after breaking our fasts in the morning, and stay out almost until dusk... returning only in time for a bit of supper before spending time in a small study not far from our shared chambers before retiring for the night. The more time I spent with Polly, the more I no longer missed my lord, and I never saw that fool of a man Poitou either after some time had passed. Occasionally, I looked out the window and noticed a group of servants carrying large sacks out a back door from the servants' area... they would thereon be seen to carry the sacks out towards a section of the outer wall that was as closest to the castle's chapel as they could manage for that area. They would proceed to bury the sacks on the grounds there, making certain always that it was the same section... between the outer walls and the keep, always close to the chapel area. I mentioned this to Polly, and we began to often watch these bizarre activities together. We speculated as to what might be in the sacks that they always needed to be disposed of in this off way. It was not long before we learned the answer, however, and it was horrible! One time, one of the servants managed to drop a sack and it came open, spilling its' contents. The sack had the body of a child within it, and the child had been brutally murdered... its' stomach was cut open so that its' entrails spilled out. The servant who dropped the sack cursed loudly, then tried to stuff the sack's grisly contents back into it before anyone noticed. I clapped a hand over Polly's eyes and said: “Get down, quick! In case the man looks up here... he mustn't know we witnessed this.” And Polly and I hasted away from the window, so that the servant burying the dead body of the child would not ever know that we had beheld his mistake.

   Polly looked at me, and said in a frightened tone of voice: “Jeanne... that, was a dead little boy in that sack, wasn't it! I mean, I am not having a bad dream, am I?” I then said to Polly: “No, sweet one, that is precisely what we both saw. Well, we can't stay in this castle anymore... Gilles has been lying to me. To us... by claiming he had repented of murdering children for his twisted reasons. He is back at it, and it is even possible he never stopped doing this thing... whatever it is he does... and for whatever reason he is now using for an excuse. I know he's been after immortality, and I think he is searching for it using the darkest of means. Perhaps he thinks he can use the blood of young children in order to make himself be young again himself! Blackest sorcery, if that be the case. Witchcraft worse than anything I've seen him performing thus far... and Polly, I must confess I have seen him do much that is forbidden and terrible. I have done terrible things myself, but nothing like this! I've been studying maps, talking to the servants, and I know there is a small village not far from here. They live in fear of Gilles, since he has in the past taken children from there... and the villagers there suspect him of having murdered them. He claimed it was an accident, and their remains when they were returned were in no condition to be certain of how it is they had died. But what we saw today is proof that he is a murderer! If we can get to that village, and tell them there what we witnessed just now... they can get the Church involved and as loathe as I am to deal with the Church, I fear it may be the only way to stop the lord from doing any further harm to ones so young and innocent. So the next time we sneak out together, Polly... we won't be coming back here. But we'll steal enough coin and other things so we can live good! And we'll find a decent family to take us in, and with the wealth we'll take with us any peasant family would be happy to do so, if only so the money we bring them can increase their standing and get them out of poverty, should they be in such a dire straight. Or maybe a rich family will take us in even, and we won't have it any harder with them as ever we had it here! Either way, at least we'll be alive. If we stay here... how long until Gilles decides he needs our blood? Then, it will be too late! So promise me, Polly, that you'll do this thing with me that I am planning to do.” Polly looked at me innocently, but comprehending. But then, the dear child saw fit to remind me of something I had nearly forgotten: “But Jeanne... we just can't involve the Church. If they knew about how I live my life they would either torture me to make me give it up, or kill me for a heretic. And you... you're a witch! I know you are. Not to be mean, but they burn witches at the stake. And what Christian family would ever take us in? We're in trouble no matter what we do or don't do!” I slapped my palm over my face in frustration and said to Polly: “Oh good Christ! You are right, I wasn't thinking of all that. I shall have to make inquiries... as to if there are any known Pagan families that live in the area who follow the ancient gods and who are no friends of the Church. I mean, given how much heresy goes on here in the castle, I am more than sure that someone here has to know of such a family or have dealings with them or ties to them. Ah, but then such a family would be loyal to Gilles and in all likelihood probably return us back to him just to stay in good with him! Damn it... there seems not a single proper solution to this problem that will not destroy us in any case. Very well then, there may be nothing for it! I am going to confront the lord and demand he stop these barbaric activities. If he still is truly in love with me at all, he will listen to me and perhaps be willing to change his ways. I still want to know why he lied to me and is killing again though... if it is about immortality then he may be mad. If that is the case, I do not know what is to be done! But either way, I need to speak with him swiftly.” Polly looked frightened, and said to me meekly: “Jeanne... I'm scared. What if the lord does kill me?” I then took Polly's hand in mine and said unto my dear and beloved companion: “He will not lay a finger on you for any reason! If he does, I will take a dagger and plunge it into his neck. That most certainly is sure to stop his murderous rampage. I have killed before, Polly, and for less goodly reasons. Both prior to coming to this castle, and after. I am not the innocent person I appear to be! But I do know right from wrong, and when it is evil to do a thing and when it is goodly to. Gilles is evil, I suspect... or misguided to the point of being lost to evil entirely. Either way, I intend to stop him before anyone else is harmed.”

   I locked Polly in our chambers with some food and drink, and a clean chamber pot and towels and other things so that my dear one would not have to leave the room for a whole day, if not two. There was only one key, and it was in my possession. Gilles trusted me more than he did his own wife! And, if he had become evil to the point where I had to stop him... that trust could prove to be his undoing, in the end. I stormed through the castle angrily, demanding of every servant I passed to know where it was that the lord of the castle currently was. No one seemed to know, or if they did they would not tell me. I asked soldiers, who evidently were as without a clue as the servants themselves had been. And I began to suspect that perhaps he was in the chapel... for I found him nowhere else. I doubted he was there to attend a religious observance, for the chapel had been the one place in all the castle that he had for long now forbidden me from ever entering. “It is for your own good, Jeanne! Some things are best left alone. And your eyes are best attuned to brighter things... the chapel is a dark place, best left in the shadows.” That he had told me once, when I asked him to let me see the inside of the chapel. And now, it all made a kind of macabre sense that caused my stomach to knot and my heart to pound from terror. I realized, it was in the chapel that he had to have been killing the children. Or, at the very least, it was one of the places where he performed such deeds! No one had seen Poitou either... and as I hastened my through the hallways of the castle I realized that the wicked young man was clearly aiding the lord in whatever terrible crimes were being committed. I felt like I had been blind, but that now I was starting to see for the first time the truth about this man, about this place. It was not that a curse was sudden over all of it, but rather the place had always been accursed... I merely had been too silly, too foolish, to notice. But now that I saw, I could not go back to my former naivete. If the lord was in the chapel, it would not be locked, for the only lock was on the outer part of the chapel's sturdy wooden portal. It could not ever be locked from the inside, however! In that way, one might know if the chapel was in use or not. I could get inside, if he truly was there... if he and Poitou were in there... and finally, I would know their secret.

   Surely enough, the chapel was not locked or sealed in any way. I sneaked inside and hid myself just in the shadows. The scene I saw before me horrified me beyond all imagining! Gilles himself was naked... and he was heaving himself up and down upon the body of an eight year old girl who had quite a bit of blood smeared between her legs. The girl herself appeared drugged, as if she did not quite realize what it was that was happening to her... and did not appear to be fighting back at the man who was ravishing her like a wild beast. She was still wearing at least a long tunic dress, but it was pulled up to her waist... and the front was torn open to expose her chest. Poitou was standing nearby, masturbating furiously as he watched the lord in this forbidden engagement. The chapel's cross, just behind the altar, was hung in an upside down fashion so that it was inverted. And various dark arcane symbols had been etched upon the cross using black ink and charcoal. Several torches dimly illuminated this scene, and the sounds of that not quite so noble lord's lovemaking were filling the air within the chapel. Suddenly, whatever drug the child must have been under wore off and she appeared to snap out of whatever trace she was in. Her eyes filled with fear, and she began to scream and shriek quite furiously. Poitou rushed over to grab the girl's arms whilst Gilles continued to partake of her without mercy. She spat at him at one point, but he laughed and then forced a savage, passionate kiss upon her young, tender lips. She was so beautiful! An angel with long wavy blonde hair and bright sparkling blue eyes. Cherubic features, a bit chubby, but in no way displeasing so. “I will not kill you, child, fear not!” the lord proclaimed, then stating: “You will perhaps be the one to produce my heir once you are older... in the meantime, we shall have many trysts such as this one. For I love you, yes I think I do honestly and truly love you, little Nanette. One we are through here, I shall take you to your quarters and introduce you to the servants.” I decided to break the moment by revealing myself. I walked over, the sound of my footsteps shocking Poitou who jumped a bit and shook nervously when he saw me. He still remembered to fear me, and to fear my displeasure.

   Gilles' face turned red as a cranberry from embarrassment. He had just finishing climaxing inside of the little girl, and pulled out of her, his manhood covered with her stolen virginity's blood. He sought to find his clothes, which lay on the floor nearby, and dressed himself clumsily. He glared at me, and then he said in a menacing tone of voice: “Jeanne! I thought I told you this chapel was forbidden to you. All the others rooms of my castle were yours to explore and roam freely... yet, today of all days you chose to intrude here. Why?” I then said to him: “I saw the servants disposing of the dead children, Gilles. It was hard not to notice when the spot you picked to bury their remains is visible fully from one of those windows in my chambers that happens to overlook that area. On top of that, a certain servant was very clumsy and happened to spill the awful contents of one of the sacks. Why? Why did you kill them! And why are you doing... this... to her.” I pointed to the little girl, who was sitting up and throwing her arms about herself in a way that said she felt shamed from her ordeal. “It is simply, milady... the lord is mad. I too am mad, it seems... for I aid and enable him in these lunacies he engages in. But I know they are in truth wrong. Would that he had the sense to know it also. If he keeps this up too long, the Church shall surely find out, and then where will we all be?” I said to the young man, sarcastically: “Why, Poitou! I never realized you possessed a conscience. I must have been mistaken then when I saw you pulling on yourself whilst watching our lord defile that girl. Surely, a demon must have possessed you! As one, I suspect has possessed our lord himself.” Poitou appeared very much ashamed, and on noticing that his manhood was out of his trousers and quite erect he fumbled to get it back out of sight and in his clothes once more. It got much harder when he looked at me, and he averted my gaze when he saw I noticed it. “Still have a lustful passion for me, Poitou?” I asked. Then I said very angrily: “And what does our oh so great and glorious lord Gilles have to say for himself! Where does his passion lie? For he has been a bit remiss in his lover's duties to me as of late.” Gilles nervously stammered slightly as he explained, in a way that sounded almost genuine: “Sometimes, I think I am possessed, Jeanne! I become like a beast, and when I do... I know not what overtakes my mind, my reason. In those times, I thought it best if I do try to avoid you so that you do not see what beast it is that I can become.” I asked of him: “A beast? So it would seem! And here I thought my beauty might tame that in you. But you prefer a different sort of beauty, it would appear... even more young than I was when first I was brought to you. How long shall it be, before your beastly lust turns towards Polly? I love Polly, my lord, and I intend to protect that oh so dearest heart even from your insanity! If I wish to take the child... Polly I mean... and leave. If we go to live in a village where Polly will still be allowed to be as she wishes and the Church will leave us in all ways alone to do as we please... will you try to bring us back, or leave us in peace?” The lord did so say in reply to my question: “You shall never leave this castle, Jeanne! I need you, and I love you. If it truly be that Polly has captured your heart, then I can assure you I will never do anything to harm that sweet child. As for Nanette here... you are barren, Jeanne, and my wife only gave me a daughter. It is my hope to one day have a son who can become my proper heir.” I screamed, and I shouted: “I thought that I was your heir! Why does it have to be a son, to please you?” He then calmly said: “It is just how the world works in this age, my dearest girl. A man may achieve things a woman may not. That is why Jeanne d'Arc dressed in the attire of a man in order to do her great deeds. Though in her case, it was not exactly an act of cross dressing given she was not wholly female to begin with, no matter what they do say of her now. She had many secrets, and I was privy to all of them. I shall take them to my grave with me, like as not, when my time to die comes. And speak no further of them now, in this company. Many things in this world, only I am fit to understand sometimes I think. Lesser minds cannot comprehend of certain truths!” I laughed, and said: “Lesser minds? What mind is more base or degraded, than the one that convinces itself that the blood of children can make one immortal! Will you be bathing in the gore and blood of them next? You are sick, Gilles! Your mind is diseased. And I fear that I cannot reach the part of you in which reason yet resides. I am taking Polly, and leaving... even if it be to the wilderness!”

   He roared at me as I raced out of the chapel with years in my eyes: “I am the lord of this castle, I am the lord of Tiffauges! I command you to remain with me.” Then he began to sob and break down as he said: “Please! I am sorry... I will try to change, for your sake.” I then spun around and asked him: “Is it Gilles who speaks to me right now? If so, it was the demon that roared at me a moment previous! This is too much for me to bear. If you truly love me, come to my chambers alone and we shall talk it over.” I was running as fast as I could back to mine and Polly's chambers, as if Hell itself was pursuing me. I heard no footsteps behind me, was certain no one gave chase. Soon enough, I reached my destination... and I unlocked the chambers' door and entered. Polly sat by the window looking out nervously. “How did it go?” Polly asked, and I said: “Not good! Not good at all. We shall wait a bit... Gilles might be on his way to speak with me here by himself. He is... possessed by a demon, I believe. And he is not able to fight it of his own will's accord. I want to see if I can reach the real him, the good him. And, perhaps push out the demon once and for all!” An hour later, Gilles opened the door and walked in as calmly as one may please. He said unto me: “Jeanne, my dear, I regret that I have not been quite myself lately. It is regrettable that I have felt... pressed... to do certain things, partly our of fear.” I asked of him as he so sat down on a wooden stool next to the door: “What are you afraid of?” to which he replied: “Death. In more accurate terms, losing you and anybody else that I love. I think Jeanne d'Arc's death drove me to my present state of madness. It caused some sort of demon to enter me, and that demon causes me often to fear even more terribly than I would normally. That fear drives me to desperation, and the demon... it drives me to acts that I normally would never commit. It makes me a beast, girl. And I want so badly, in truth, for the nightmare to end! The nightmare that is within my mind. It robs me of sleep, it robs me of control or reason... and I desperately just want it all to stop.” I asked him: “Has Poitou asked you, as it stands now, to stop?” He then admitted: “Yes! Yes, even he has, and that man is truly depraved. But... I am not an evil man, little Jeanne... I am a goodly man possessed by an evil spirit and driven by fear to be that demon's victim. The more victims it forces me to claim... by whispering promises of the gift of immortality that in my heart I know full well it cannot deliver on... the more it sickens me, what I do.” I sighed, then stated: “If you know it cannot deliver on its' promises, then why do you listen to it?” That is when he explained: “Because it... hurts me... in my head, in my soul, if I do not listen to it. And in my sleep, at night, it sends me dreams in which it does deliver on its' promises, and in them I am happy and all I love are happy. It makes me believe it again and again, in that way. In my moments of weakness, fear, and terror. I would send for an exorcist, but I dare not for the Church is my enemy and they would never help me. But in the meantime, it is getting worse! Ere long, they will find me in any case and in that time they will put me to death, thinking it is I who commits these unspeakable crimes. But it is the dark one inside of me! Not I myself.” Suddenly, Gilles let out a horrific cry of pain, his face twisting in fright as his eyes went wide from whatever only he alone could see. He began to growl and howl, and make sounds no human vocal chords could ever produce. Polly screamed, and was too close by far to the window... I watched as that child whom I loved so dearly fell out of the window to a tragic death on the ground below. Now I screamed, as if I myself had become possessed... “No! Oh God, no... not that dear soul, not Polly.” I so shrieked, and I smacked Gilles across his face. “I hate you! You killed Polly. Your insanity killed the one I love. I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” then I leaped out the window to my death below, to join Polly in whatever kinder, gentler hereafter might await us. The last thing I did ever hear from the mouth of the lord of that castle... as I leapt to my death... was his sobbing as he cried and shouted to me: “No! Please, I am sorry... it was not I, it was the demon...” and then he said things I could not hear. Just as I entered into death, I tried to say aloud... but it only came out in my mind... the words: “I forgive you, Gilles. Bluebeard. You were not yourself... it was the demon, that caused all of this to happen. I forgive you! My love.” And I glanced over at Polly's broken body that lay next to my own, and I said unto her: “I love you too. I love you both.” As that life ended, so did that terrible dream.
Written by Kou_Indigo (Karam L. Parveen-Ashton)
Published
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