This is just an extract of a story, as it was an English assignment to write part of a Gothic Horror story, set in the 19th Century. It has no beginning or end, nor does it have a real plot. However, we were meant to have 400-1000 words, and I went over by a lot, so instead of scribbling out most of my story and completely forgetting about it, I decided to put it up.

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She sat with her head on her arm, lazily propped up against the smooth walls surrounding her. Her once immaculate hair was now matted with dried blood and dirt from being so brutally attacked. Her posh ball gown that used to shine in every colour was now torn and dirtied, no better than a maid’s outfit.

Lady Clarissa’s eyes were dark and empty, yet if you looked closely, you could see them flickering, as if watching an exciting play. She was remembering what had happened before she was taken to this ghastly place. Had it been days, months, years? She has lost all sense of time since her dreadful abduction, yet what scared her was this cell she was confined to. Even though it was pitch black, there was the smallest slither of light coming from the crack under the door to her room no bigger than broom cupboard in her standards. By now, she knew her room inside out, and thinking about it made her shudder in fear.

With no windows, the room seemed smaller, yet the walls that enclosed her, instead of being rough brickwork that she could have though of impaling herself on, were hundreds of mirrors, like being stuck in a magician’s box with no way out.

Before, she would have happily sat in front of her mirror for hours, brushing her perfect chestnut hair that cascaded down her back, while happily bossing people around her.

Now, the though of mirrors, these mirrors that reflected her broken self in the shallow light with dried brown blood stains covering them, would haunt her forever.

Mirror Mirror,

Lady Clarissa thought back to the ball she was happily dancing in before she was cruelly ripped away from everything she had known. Had she just been blissfully ignorant her entire life, expecting everything to go the way she wanted, when she wanted it? It seemed that way, before her life had started spiraling downwards.

The ball she was stolen from had been her engagement ball, and being the middle child of her five sisters, she had often been overlooked. Therefore her arranged marriage to a viscount she didn’t know the name of yet, excited her to no ends. All she had heard was that he was very handsome, and from what she had seen from a distance, she was inclined to agree. Even better, he apparently requested Lady Clarissa, and she overheard him saying that she was pusillanimous and imperceptible, perfect for a wife.

Now, she didn’t know what that meant, but being chosen specially is a privilege that shouldn’t be denied.

As she thought back to her previous life, her mind betrayed her as she was brought back to the harsh reality of her real life now. She tried to imagine her fiancée’s – she refused to let go of the fact that he had maybe forgotten her now she had been kidnapped – good looks, but all she could think of was that face that haunted her dreams.

She flinched involuntarily simply at the thought of him as she huddled into the corner of the room, an arm protectively hugging her legs to her chest and her bare shoulders pressing against the cool surface of the mirrors. She knew not, without a doubt, that she had seen the ugliest, most horrifyingly gruesome man she had ever, and would ever see in her life. She dared not even describe his gargoyle like features without feeling rather queasy.

He had come in to check up on her, making sure she hadn’t smashed the mirrors to use to attack someone with or worse, herself. The first time he had entered she had been sitting there and couldn’t even bring herself to scream in fright at his repulsive looks. Yet she remained uptight and detached, demanding to know where she was and when she was to be released. When he refused to answer and shut the door on her, the manner that she had been so elegantly taught in her upbringing flew out the window. This was demonstrated by the second time he entered her imprisonment. She had flown at him in a wild rage, delirious from undernourishment and angry from his dismissal, and screamed, bit, scratched at whatever she could grab a hold of.

However with a brutal clutch of her hair, he threw her against the wall and winded her, where she collapsed and succumbed to the darkness. When she had woken up, he was gone.

He hadn’t been back since.

Lady Clarissa even though she may have imagined him when he hadn’t returned, but his flesh under her nails and the bare spot on her head where he had torn some of her hair out reminded her that he was in fact real, as real as she was. Though even she couldn’t confirm whether or not she existed anymore and if this was nightmare she refused to wake up from. What truly proved his existence was the feel of his putrid breath that still lingered on her ear, and his whispered threats that passed her ear before she lost consciousness. All she knew from that moment she attacked him was that if she ever did that again, or tried to escape, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.

On the wall,

Nonetheless, what sickened her and almost made her heave in disgust was the fact that half of her almost craved his presence while the other side of her didn’t ever want to be see, hear, or be touched by him again. She had heard that if you locked someone up for a room with no human contact for months, eventually they went insane. When she had first heard it, she dismissed it with a dignified huff, while muttering to herself that she would prefer that then her annoying sisters. Now, she could truly understand the feeling of solitude and loneliness and wished she had never spoken such a thing.

A loud bang brought her out of her reverie as her head snapped up to the bolted door. She waited a few seconded to see if the noise was approaching her, maybe the man was coming back to her, maybe even to kill her this time, but when she noticed everything was back to the never-ending silence she had been submitted to, she slowly rose from the floor, knees creaking from the strain. Her now scaled skin flaked of from the lack of expensive lotions and creams she was so used to smothering on everyday as she fumbled about, searching for the door. It was then that she noticed there was a bit more light coming from the door. Not much, maybe only a centimeter, but the extra light was definitely there. She had stopped, yet the idea of escaping made her freeze in fear, remembering her captor’s promises. However, she knew that just waiting was even worse, so she willed herself to move as she shakily raised her mistreated hand, reaching to grasp the rusted iron handle. A quick burst of adrenaline surged through her frail body and she yanked the chamber door open, cursing words young ladies shouldn’t know when it creaked loudly. As she cautiously poked her head around the corner, what met her eyes was, in her opinion, the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

The corridor was empty.

It was then that she knew she had to run. With one last glance at the mirrors that had haunted her night and day, she slid one bare and bloodied foot out of the door, followed by another until her whole body was standing in the hallway, back clinging to the wall. Her eyes were barely open and were streaming, being too painful now she was exposed the dimly lit hallway. Her mind was buzzing, wondering which way would lead to her freedom, and which would lead to her death, and she sprinted off down the lighter end of the hallway which was the opposite way she had heard her captor go after their two liaisons. She kept on running, twisting and turning as her ripped dress unevenly swung around her legs, not caring where she was going and was sure that her heart was about to burst from her ribcage.

Deep in though, she didn’t notice that she way straying into the wall, dangerously swaying a lantern. It was when she had taken a few steps forward that it crashed to the ground, the loud noise contrasting in the soundless hallway. She whipped her head round and froze in fear, that one sound that made her heart stop. She stepped backwards , edging away from it like it was a dangerous but she heard footsteps coming from all directions. She was petrified, her breath coming in short gasps, body heaving with effort.

It was then that Lady Clarissa realized what had happened, and how she had walked right into their plan. They wouldn’t willingly leave a door open, so perhaps they wanted to test her ‘loyalty’ and see whether she would run after she was told what would happen if she tried to escape. Or maybe they knew she would escape and just wanted the excuse to finally kill her. She was about to turn and run to flee from the men that made up this organization when she stumbled into a hard chest an indescribable stench filling her nostrils. She sharply withdrew her breath and refused to let it out again. It was...

Who’s the fairest one of all?

It was Him.