#morpheous

Question after question and yet no answers to match. Those questions hardly mattered anyway, as Roderick seemed keen to cling to his threat. It had taken me a month to fully heal from that last brutal beating, but the moment I had, Roderick had made certain I knew he was through with me and the Sandman’s games. “You’ll not lay eyes on him ever again! Mark my words, girl, you will die without ever seeing that being again.”

At first, I’d rolled my eyes. Roderick’s threats rarely lasted longer than a month, but then a month turned to two and two turned to three. Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye. Six months without a glimpse of my Sandy.

I missed it. I missed the comfortable silence that he offered, the blue star-filled eyes he watched me with, the way he’d move in reaction to my teasing. He didn’t have to say a word to be considered good company in a place like this, but more than that, I could feel whatever odd bond we had tethering us together grow every moment I spent with him. I missed him. Perhaps more than I should have.

Without any trips to the basement, Alex, Paul, and I had taken to spending a lot of time together. Paul and Alex grew ever closer, flirting and testing the waters of each other. Alex and I spent the six months mending our strained friendship, and after hearing how he’d stood up to his father for me, it was easier to put my trust in him. He’d almost entirely abandon his quest to kill Jessamy, only carrying the gun as a show for his father. Roderick spent the majority of his days in his study. Everyone willing to speak to me said he was raving, trying to come up with a plan. Rave all you like, bastard. Nothing will break Sandy.

I tore my eyes from the mirror and twisted the simple, wired ring in between my fingers, a habit I’d gotten into after making it from the strange stone that had been sitting on my nightstand when I finally woke up. I’d suspected it was Jessamy who had brought it back with her. The moment she returned, she took to standing guard beside me, pecking at the small moonstone until I eventually picked it up.

It was beautiful, a sea of shimmering colors that shone brightly when held to the sunlight. The milky pale stone held different things whenever the colors shifted as I looked at it. In the hues of blue and lavender, I saw the sky and the sea and the Sandman’s eyes. In the hues of pink and orange, I saw sunsets and sunrises. And in the hues of light green, I saw that meadow.

A gift, I’d told myself, quickly bribing Frederick to bring me the materials I needed to set it in a wearable fashion. I only wore it when I was alone in my room, for fear of it being taken from me or lost, but the modest ring was no less dear to me. In my cage, that ring and my bag of hidden treasures were the only possessions that mattered.

I gently put the ring back in the bag and placed it back under the bed. Paul and Alex would be back from the kitchens, and then the three of us would be off to have a picnic. Paul’s idea, of course, but one Alex had quickly taken a liking to. He’d bribed Ethel to buy me a new dress of sun yellow and soft silk. It was beautiful, so much so that even Jessamy had liked it.

She cawed and wiggled herself around as her eyes took it in before she settled onto my shoulder. I could feel her beak gently pecking my hair, adjusting it however she saw fit. “Is my hair not up to your high standards, Lady Jessamy?”

Another, softer caw and a few more pecks.

“Alright, get out of here. I have to go wait for the boys.” I shooed her with a laugh. She flew off my shoulder and out the window.

Frederick waited outside my door, happily heading me down to the main room where I took a seat in a chair by the window, watching the raven soar above the mansion. Beside me, Frederick shifted and winced as if uncomfortable. “Everything alright?”

“Stomach issues, nothing for you to worry about,” He replied, attempting to sound unfazed.

“You can go take a minute. I'm sure the door watcher would be able to watch me until Alex gets back.”

He looked at the guard on door duty, George, who shrugged. “She ain't much trouble, go get yourself together.”

He nodded, grumbling a thank you as he hurried off toward the restroom. A loud metallic thump echoed softly as the keys fell from his belt. A flare of hope filled my chest as I got up as casually as I could, pretending to stretch and examine Roderick’s hideous taxidermy. When I was certain George wasn’t looking, I bent over and plucked the keys up off the floor, quickly hiding them in the folds of my dress.

Alright, I thought, feeling with my fingers to try and see which set of keys I now held possession of. From the few times I’d watched Frederick open doors, I knew he had keys to my room, the restrooms, and the front door. It was likely he had keys to the basement and maybe even the gate. Okay… How do I do this?

Jessamy swooped in the front door, taking perch on the railing above and staring down at me. I pulled the fabric aside, showing her the shimmering keys now sitting in my lap, and quickly mouthed: “What now?”

That beautiful, brilliant raven watched Roderick light a cigar and swooped down to pluck a match from the tray. I grinned as she lit it against one of the walls, dropping it on top of the morning paper. “Genius!”

A smoke started to fill the room, and I quickly faked a fit of coughing and fled. “Fire! There’s a fire!”

George jumped into action, pulling the other guards up from the basement as they all jumped into trying to put the flame out. I ran down the steps as fast as I could, Jessamy at my side as I tried a few keys until the gate unlocked. My hands trembled as I pushed it open, heart thudding in my chest as that pale blue light enveloped me. This was it.

The Sandman lifted his head, dark eyes clearing in an instant as he saw me standing there unaccompanied by the guards. “Hey, Sandy, you ready to get the hell out of here?”

He smiled. It was small, but it was still the most beautiful sight I’d ever laid my eyes on. He looked up at Jessamy as she landed on one of the chains holding his cage in place. Hope filled his eyes. Pressing my hand to the glass, I watched Jessamy slam her beak against it, trying with all her might to break through. The glass, I decided with her. Break the glass.

“Okay,” I whispered, looking around the dark room. “Give me a moment, Jess.”

I hurriedly moved to the piles of junk Roderick had left to rot in the basement, searching for something, anything large or heavy enough. My fingers wrapped around an old candelabra, testing its weight with a smile. I turned, mouth opened, words just on the tip of my tongue as a loud gunshot echoed in the silent basement.

Blood and feathers coated the glass in front of the Sandman's face. Jessamy. I looked to the door, finding Alex standing there, gun aimed at the glass cage - at the innocent bird who’d been hovering in front of it. My chest heaved with disbelief. Jess… My fingers clenched around the metal as I forced myself out of the shock and ran to the sphere, slamming the candelabra down upon the glass once… nothing. Twice… a scratch marred the glass above the Sandman’s head. Third - just before I could connect the metal to the glass again, the guards had grabbed me, pulling the metal from my hands and forcing me away from the cage.

My eyes filled with tears, sobs making my chest hurt as I watched Roderick yell, dead eyes glaring at me before he vanished back upstairs. Alex moved closer, bending down to pick Jessamy’s broken body up.

“DON’T YOU TOUCH HER!” I screamed, slamming my head back into the guard's nose and pulling Jessamy's body out of his hands. She was mutilated beyond recognition, her tufted chest of white feathers now no more than blood and guts and bone. With shaking hands, I cradled her body tentatively, my vision swimming with tears as I flinched away from Alex’s gentle reach.

Eyes meeting the Sandman’s, I sobbed. His tears mirrored my own, his normally stoic face set in grief and anger. “I… I’m sorry.”

Without another word, I shoved past the guards and carried her body with me out to the willow tree. Huddled underneath its leaves, I cradled her to my chest and sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Jess.”

After a long while, the leaves parted, and Paul looked down at me in horror at the sight of so much blood. The picnic basket dropped to the ground as my voice echoed in the quiet. “I couldn't… I couldn't leave her down there!”

“It’s okay,” he soothed, not entirely sure what I was talking about as he pulled me into his arms. “It’s okay, Pen. It’s okay.”

“He killed her,” I whispered.

“Who?”

“Alex.” I shook my head and gritted my teeth. “He shot her!”

Eventually, once I cried all the tears I could, Paul spoke, “Where do you want her buried? We can put her in the garden, by the pavilion, perhaps?”

The very thought of her, trapped here, made my already aching heart lurch. She can’t stay here. That’s not fair. That’s not right. I shook my head, laying her body down on the small cloth we were going to use in our picnic, respectfully wrapping her in it. “Don't bury her. Not here.”

“We can burn her,” he suggested. “That way, you can keep the ashes and spread them somewhere else when you leave.”

“Yeah...” That would have to do. It was the only way I could think to save her, to return her to the Sandman one day when we got out of here. God, the Sandman. Would he be upset if I burned her? Did he have customs for such a thing wherever it was he came from? I could still feel the echoes of his pain laced with my own. 

Paul took her body, setting her gently in the basket right as the guards came to retrieve me. I followed them, numbly, only breaking down once behind the safety of my room.

“Penelope…” Alex's timid voice echoed from the other side of the door.

“Go away.”

“Talk to me, please, Pen.”

I threw one of the pillows at the door when he tried to open it. “I have nothing to say to you!”

“It was just a bird.” Anger filled my lungs. “I had to.”

“I should have let them eat you,” I said with as much venom as I could muster. “I should have left you here to rot all alone!”

“Please don’t say that, Pen. I’ll fix this, I promise. I’ll fix it.” He sounded so sincere, but I knew now it was nothing more than a cowardly lie, just like everything else he’d said.

“I never want to hear your voice again, Alex Burgess. Never.”

I listened to his referring footsteps before curling back up on the bed. I wished I could go back to the party. Wished I could stop myself from ever going into that basement. But those thoughts faded, burned with the knowledge that if I had changed that night, I never would have known of the man in the glass cage, and I never would have befriended the beautiful raven.

I could never wish for that, for a world without my Sandman.

*

With eyes still filled with tears, Dream watched them clean Jessamy’s blood from the glass. It had been three days since the Burgess boy had shot her. Three days since the hope he foolishly let himself feel had died with her.

Roderick had returned, now armed with fresh ammunition against him, but this time it wasn’t defiance or anger that kept him silent, but pain.

“It was your own doing, you know.” He smiled with the words. “As is what comes next.”

The threat wrapped around him, smothering him in the weight of his meaning. The only thing he had left to lose was the girl, and if the look on Roderick's face meant anything, his plans for her were far worse than his last show of brutality. The days that followed were ones filled with fear and anxiety, and pain. What is his game now? Was he hoping to scare the silence out of him? Or was he simply putting his new scheme in motion? It was impossible to tell, but this time Dream didn’t have to wait long for the answer.

On the fourth day, the gate opened, and Penelope was dragged back into the basement. He sat up straighter, looking around as if some sort of trap hid in the dark corners of the room. She settled against the stone pillar and let the guard chain her with no fight. The weight of Jessamy’s death was clear in her tired eyes. The room fell into silence, not their usual silence either, one filled with ominous tension that left a foreboding warning in Dreams’ gut.

“I -” she started to speak, words quickly cut off by the gate. “Later.”

Roderick strode confidently into the room, but this time he was not alone. Three men in white followed his steps, eyes looking down at the girl chained to the pillar. “This is her.”

Morpheus’ fear came to life before his eyes as the men unchained Penelope and forced her to her feet. Roderick stopped them for a moment, regarding her with a smile. “You've been a thorn in my side for years. That little stunt of yours was the last straw. These fine men are taking you to a facility, an institution for unruly individuals such as yourself. Unless…” A pause. “Beg. Beg him to save you.”

He felt his whole body tense, hands pressing desperately against the glass as if he could will it to shatter beneath his palms. This was it. If she uttered the words, he would surely shatter... He would have no choice but to. Dream would give Roderick Burgess whatever he wanted. With new tears burning his eyes, he prepared himself for the sorrowful pleas to fill the room.

Instead, Penelope Barlow surprised him once again.

“I won't beg him, and I certainly won't beg you.” She spat in his face, the fire in her eyes burning brighter than he’d ever seen.

Roderick wiped the spit from his cheek. “Muzzle her, sedate her, do whatever you wish, just take her away.”

Their eyes caught, fear and anguish swirled between them as she struggled against the men in white. They were too strong, and she was too weak. They forced a muzzle over her mouth as she thrashed. She looked like a wild animal caught in a trap.

Tears stained his cheeks as he watched with a clenched jaw. Morpheus almost wanted her to beg. He wanted to beg himself, but those eyes of fire and moonstone stopped him. Penelope uttered one last reminder to him of the promise he'd made. “Not an inch, Sandy.”

No matter what happened, he could not break. He could not disobey her final request of him, no matter how much he wanted to. So, he watched them force the needle into her neck, watched the fire fade, and her eyes close.

They took her.

They took her. It was all he could think of as he stared out at the now-empty room.

She was gone, gone somewhere he could not follow or watch over her. Gone somewhere, he would not hear her voice or her laughter. Gone somewhere, he would not see her smile or the fire in her eyes. Gone to a place that would destroy the girl from the inside out.