There was nowhere left for Caroline to run. The woods were an endless maze, she was exhausted, and injured. They surely had found out that she had escaped by now, they would be looking for her, they would be close, so despite it all she limped on through the wilderness, in search of the road. She hoped to find help there.

There had been a terrible storm a few weeks prior to Caroline’s escape. The forest had been hit by lightning, and one of the trees had fallen over. It had driven the roots up from the ground, but due to the dark, she could not see them. She tripped, and toppled over.

Footsteps. She had been found. She looks to her right, as her captor steps out of the shadows.

“Found you.”

Desperate to get away she grips the dirt, and pulls up, trying her very hardest to crawl away. Caroline’s pursuer steps on her wrist, stopping her from moving. She lets out a mȯȧn in pain.

“You really thought that you could escape?”

Caroline’s chaser picks up a large rock, next to her.

“No one ever gets away…”

The last thing Caroline see’s before she’s bashed over the head. Is their deep purple eyes.

September 18, 1835

Caroline wakes up drenched in a sweat. She lets out a scream, “Ms. Windsor!” She rings the bell, on her bedside table. Milly rushes in.

“My Lady, are you alright?” Mill asks, running to her side. “Was it that dream again?”

Caroline silently nods, choking on her tears. Milly pulls her into an embrace, and holds her, as she cries. “You’re alright now, nothing can hurt you here.”

Since the death of the estates finest hunting dog, Caroline had begun having nightmares. In each she met a more gruesome fate. Rumors had begun circulating that the Countess had been cursed.

Caroline had tried telling the Count of the omen her and Sir. Elton had discovered but he would hear none of it. And insisted that it was nothing but a wild animal. He was a man of reason after all, and did not believe in omens, nor curse of any sort.. Yet the dreams still plagued the Countess. What could it be other than an augury?