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EXPERIMENT FILE #1
SUBJECT: EDGAR VALDEN
There's red on her chest. Red on her lips and her nose. It's such a pretty colour, the way the vibrancy conveyed exactly what it needed to. Perfect for a sunset, but she never liked seeing it coming out of someone.
Yet Edgar had seen so much of that, hadn't she? The blood caked on Ella's nose when she used to sneeze, when it trickled from her mother's mouth in waves as she hacked her last words. Sarai's blood, staining her favourite blouse for weeks.
She presumes her blouse would be stained again after this, that she'd have to wring out the fabric by hand so as not to alert the house staff. But what house staff was there? She wasn't home, she was lying in the dirt, mud caked in her chestnut hair and earthworms crawling around her. Edgar clutches the dirt in her hands, it's better than clutching her chest. She wants to watch the red bloom from her wound, but she can barely keep her eyes open.
She wonders if this is what the others felt. The hot sweat seeping from their foreheads, cotton in their mouths, That sharp tang of metallic taste. Did the girl with the blonde braids bleed out?, did the man in the miners garb feel every second passing like molasses. Does everyone die the same way? or did god just smite her to feel it so strongly she wanted to fade faster?
There's a rustling inches away from her and it takes every fibre of strength for Edgar to turn her head. She wonders if it's that— thing. But it isn't, because in front of Edgar is the woman in the gauze veil.
Except she isn't wearing it. Her hair is dishevelled. Intricate braids falling messy and loose along her face. She's panting, blood seeping from the wound on her back. It's a shame, Edgar can't quite remember her name, maybe she could have wheezed it out with some sappy goodbye message. She barely knew the woman, but it just felt— right.
Edgar focuses her eyes, reserving all her strength for that one task. The entomologist's face comes into view. A sharp jaw, thin lips, and a long nose with a small hook. And the most beautiful brown eyes Edgar had ever seen. It's a nice last sight, Edgar thinks to herself. She would have loved to paint them.
Her eyes fell shut for the final time. The woman stumbles away and Edgar isn't offended; she thinks she's a lost cause. She just hoped she Looked pretty lying there, it would have made quite the perfect composition.
EXPERIMENT FILE #15
SUBJECT: EDGAR VALDEN
The carriage ride was dreadful. If she didn't know better she'd say the driver was drunk off his ass. Bumpy terrain and heavy rain cause Edgar to take a sprinting start across the muddy ground and under the cover of the Manor. She didn't wave the driver off, he could crash for all she cared, he didn't even help her with her bags.
She reaches up to ring the rain out of her beret. Squeezing the red fabric as water poured out. She was soaked from head to toe. Her widely expensive blouse would probably have to be thrown out, pity she only packed four more. She lifts her two bags and raps hard on the door, which leaves her with no answer. Just a hushed murmur of voices and the fall of footsteps.
"Hello!?" Edgar yells, trying to balance the bags in her hands. "I'm bloody drowning out here!." She knocks again, this time more violently and decides to try giving the door a push. That works, and the large oakwood slab of ornately decorated wood swings open in front of her.
Edgar stares inside. Her rain-drenched skirt flowed behind her as her booted feet hit the carpet. She wipes rainwater from her face, her eyes, and decides to take a look around. She's met with a staircase, large and intricately detailed, red stair runner covering the steps. Her eyes immediately darted to the several statues and paintings adorning the walls. Whoever owned this place had a good eye, she'd love to meet them, then kick them in the balls for leaving their guest out in the rain.
"Hello?." She called out, quiet, not loud enough to cause an echo. She picks her bags up again and trudges along the long corridor, trailing rainwater behind her. She comes across another oak door and doesn't bother to knock this time, pushing the door open with a grunt.
She was in a dining room. Nowhere close in size to her own at home. But serviceable. More marble statues and paintings hung on the walls, not originals, cheap copies. Edgar could name each gallery that housed the real ones, and it certainly wasn't here.
"You might want to warm up by the fire, we don't need more people catching colds."
There's a voice behind her and Edgar jumps, turns so quickly she makes herself dizzy. There stands a woman, tall in stature– at least two heads taller than her. She's draped in hues of olive green, black accents and a neatly tied tie hung from her neck. Edgar follows her gaze upwards to a face covered in a thin mesh veil. Edgar can't see her eyes, she can't see the upper part of her face.
Edgar pauses, stops looking her over and shifts her weight awkwardly. "Are you– the owner of this Establishment?." Edgar fishes in her pocket for a rain-soaked letter with a red seal. "I'll say, it's quite rude to leave a guest outside in the pouring rain. Do you have any house staff?"
The woman laughs, deep and low— and keeps her head down as she passes by Edgar. She stops abruptly. "
"I'm not the owner of this Manor, but if you have any luck finding them let me know, we've all been trying for weeks—"
The woman makes to leave, Edgar shoves the letter back into her pocket and calls out. "Wait–" she pauses before she can sputter out another word. "What's your name?."
She's not sure why she cares. But this feels like the most important question she'll ever ask.
The woman turns, a ghost of a smile dancing across her lips. "Melly Plinius." She says and shuts the door behind her.
EXPERIMENT FILE #56
SUBJECT: EDGAR VALDEN
Edgar never thought she'd see heaven. She'd acted in sin more times than she could count. She'd bet money on it, knowing she'd never see Ella or her mother again in the afterlife. But maybe heaven was this, here, in Melly's arms, pushed up against the wall, Melly's lips on hers.
The woman kisses her with vigour. One hand on the painter's waist, the other tangled in her hair. The Woman's red beret was discarded on the ground along with her hair bow. Her hair fell in a cascade of chestnut curls, bouncing as Melly pushed further into her, nibbling on the painter's lip.
Edgar made a noise at that, breaking away from Melly, and Melly, animalistic in her hunger, tried to tug her back in. Edgar laughs, bright and warm, resting her head on Melly's shoulder as she giggles. "Calm down!."
This causes Melly to smile back, leaning into Edgar's ear. "You know that's too hard." Edgar had been here for three weeks, and melly already couldn't keep her hands off her. suddenly they're Kissing again, in the darkened halls of the manor, wedged in a quiet corridor, Edgar Valden enjoys her little piece of heaven.
EXPERIMENT FILE #100
SUBJECT: EDGAR VALDEN
There's a dead body at the table.
It's not what she expected after her first night at the manor. She had been invited down to breakfast and ever so casually told to ignore the rotting corpse lying face down on the dining room table.
"Poor thing was already gone when we all got here." The woman who smelt of cheap booze drawled as she took another bite of her eggs. "Staff said not to move her, can't bury her properly until the storm ends."
Edgar can't bring herself to sit. Her hands are shaking, trembles racking her frame. What was this? She felt like time was slowing, everything froze around that body and Edgar couldn't rip her eyes away. This wasn't the first time she'd been exposed to a corpse, and certainly not the last. So why did this one, one of a total stranger cause her to want to lie down and die?
"Don't even know her name. Sad, really." The barmaid shook her head, an expression of pity in her eyes.
Eyes, eyes— brown eyes, eyes Edgar should have no idea about. A name, a name hanging from her lips.
"Melly Plinius…" Edgar stutters, ripping the words from her throat. "Her name is Melly Plinius."
EXPERIMENT FILE #586
SUBJECT: EDGAR VALDEN
"Do you know why ladybugs are red and black?."
Melly asks her one day. When they're tucked inside the greenhouse. The entomologist let the ladybug crawl onto her fingers, down her hand and into her palm.
"Hm, I don't. Enlighten me." Edgar doesn't take her eyes off her painting. Dipping her brush back into the vermilion hue. Melly smiles at that, Edgar can see it out of the corner of her eye.
"It's to detract predators, make them look like they taste foul."
Edgar thinks back to this later. When she's with Melly again. This time cradled in the entomologist's arms. Her sweet scent of lavender and honey blocked out the metallic tang of blood.
"We're getting out of here. Come on. Let's go— you're going to be ok."
Edgar didn't like how desperate Melly sounded. The tone of voice didn't flatter her.
"Come on. My ladybug. Don't leave me."
EXPERIMENT FILE #1,000
SUBJECT: EDGAR VALDEN
Rain. It's raining again. It felt like it had been raining for weeks. Months.
How did she get there?. Was it a carriage? A car?. Did she walk? She was soaked to the bone. Her hand is poised over a large oakwood door. She's about to knock, bags clutched in her hand. She doesn't notice when a woman with a straw hat opens the door. Doesn't flinch when she guides her inside and by the fire.
She's been here before. She's been in this building. Seen those paintings and statues. God, her head is killing her. She's going mad, isn't she?
EXPERIMENT FILE #6,789
SUBJECT: EDGAR VALDEN
"Do you ever feel like we've done this before?."
Melly looks perplexed. She scooches closer to Edgar, her naked form brushing against her ribcage.
"If I'd had you naked in my bed before, I certainly hope I would have remembered it." Melly smiles, reaching out to brush a thumb along the painter's cheek.
Edgar leans into the touch, hand resting on the entomologist's hip.
"I'm sorry. I think I'm Going crazy."
EXPERIMENT FILE #10,788
SUBJECT: EDGAR VALDEN
It's raining again