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{The Portrait of Lady Elizabeta}The winding, twisting corridors of the mansion were like an unescapable maze. There seemed to be no definite end or beginning to the complex structure as the woman in white ran frantically through the darkness. Floorboards creaked and groaned ominously to accompany her breathless gasps for air, yet her growing exhaustion was not enough to stop the heavy pounding of her feet against the shadowy ground. The monster was closing in, she could sense it. His laboured gasps and footsteps were heavier than her own, and they reverberated and bounced off their surrounding with an intimidating echo that sent a terrible shiver running down her spine.

The woman in white had screamed over her shoulder at the monster to leave her alone over and over again, only gaining a moment’s glance each time at the terrible figure who persisted in his pursuit of the terrified damsel. His features seemed hideously deformed in the gloom, and deep dark shadows danced across his face, blotting out any signs of humanity in his cold, stony grey eyes. Scarlet lips were pulled upwards into a fearsome smirk, which revealed the many rows of sharp yet almost blackened teeth inside. The monster was practically licking his lips, in hunger or anticipation – she could not disclose, as his relentless chase continued after the woman.

How the woman had found herself in this circumstance; running for her very life from this fearsome beast; she could not quite recall. Like a warped nightmare, the memories of the event were already becoming blurred and faded as her panic increased. Nobody had answered her cries for help during her flight for escape – only the single, portentous cry of a crow somewhere deep in the twisted forest which surrounded this giant estate had met her ears. She was alone, lost and frightened. O how she coveted to be in the embrace of her beloved Roderich, with his strong arms swathed around her in a wall of protection and his soft, beautiful lips whispering sweet nothings in her ears. She was pining for him; for his dark feather-soft locks and deep eyes of an amethyst hue. He was her angel of salvation, and yet he was nowhere to be found when she had needed him most.

The monster closing in was calling out, releasing an inhuman roar of a name… Elizabeta… Who was this Elizabeta? The woman in white did not want to cease her movements and find out. Gaining one last burst of momentum, the young woman flung herself through an open threshold into the abyss of a pitch black room, before slamming the door shut with a tremendous crash behind her.

Only once the thundering footsteps had echoed away and she had caught her fleeting breath did the petrified woman dare to release a sigh of relief and take in her surroundings for the first time. She had found herself in a large, extravagantly decorated bedroom. Velvet curtains cascaded down from the windows and the same material was draped over the large, elegant bed beautifully. However, the most striking feature of the room was hanging up on the wall, above an intricately crafted fireplace. Looming over the entire area was a large, fantastical portrait of an exquisite woman with soft peachy skin, chestnut curls and a pair of stunning emerald eyes which gazed upon the space around her with superiority. Even if the dim light and thick shadows which obliterated another figure next to the woman in the picture, one could see the fine details and fluid paint strokes which made up the picture entitled: The Portrait of Lady Elizabeta... That shadow obliterated the rest of the title, discarding the last few words as though they were meaningless. However, the frightened woman in white could not care less. She was staring at the woman in the picture, this Elizabeta, with eyes full of wonder. How could one not even real be so incredibly beautiful? And was this the “Elizabeta” the beast had called out to when she had been running from him in fear. Maybe this woman, this Elizabeta, once was the mistress of this awful manor, or another one of its victims. This train of thought, however, was quickly cut off by a single voice resonating through the room.

“How pathetic.”

Startled, the woman in white almost jumped out of her skin and span round in a flash to see where the voice had come from. To her horror, the portrait of Lady Elizabeta was now staring down upon her small, trembling form, glancing down with the upmost disgust at the petrified female.

“Are you just going to stand there and allow that monster to torment you?” Lady Elizabeta’s portrait scorned with a biting venom laced into her words. Each syllable stabbed at the fragile woman painfully, causing her to recoil and wince at the tone of voice. “Or will you take action for yourself?”

A stream of moonlight shifted through the window, and landed on something silver lying upon the hearth. A letter opener, barely visible yet shimmering in the dim. With a hesitant hand, the woman in white reached out and grasped at the cool metal, pulling it towards her slowly. What occurred in that moment went by like a blur, too fast for the woman to even process exactly what had passed.

A tremendous crash as the door to the room was torn away, moments prior to the beast itself leaping through the threshold and pouncing on the woman inside. A scream of terror, a furious roar, and then… silence.

The pungent perfume of a sweet, metallic scent soon filled the air, and a few drops of something crimson splattered onto her terrified face. The woman hardly blinked, though, as the monster sank to its knees and crumpled in a motionless heap on the ground. Finally, the nightmare had drawn to its conclusion. Releasing a shaken breath of relief, the woman lowered the blood-coated blade and averted her gaze from the corpse lying undignified at her feet. However, as she turned away from the form, her eyes landed upon something else. A large looking glass against the wall, just catching a few streams of the dying moonlight enough to illuminate and cast a reflection. The woman could only stare in shock at the sight before her; a woman with soft peachy skin, chestnut curls and a pair of stunning emerald eyes stood as her reflection. It was a face the woman had seen in this manor before. The portrait of Lady Elizabeta, which was now laughing at her mockingly.

With a gasp caught in her throat, Elizabeta shifted her gaze from the mirror to her portrait, then back to the mirror once again. Yes, it was the same woman. The shadow which had hidden the half of the painting had now shifted and danced away, finally revealing the other figure seated beside Mrs Elizabeta Edelstein. A handsome young man with dark hair, a kind smile and amethyst eyes.

One final wave of horrified realisation hit Elizabeta in that instance, and her sight was quickly drawn back to the body by her feet. No longer lay the slain monster, for his hideous features had melted away to reveal the angelic face of her darling Lord Roderich Edelstein, masked and hidden away by her own delusional psychosis.

A single sliver of soft, yet haunting moonlight was pooling in through the great, overwhelming window of frosted glass, causing the silver which was illuminating a single spot on the wooden floor to be distorted like distant ocean waves on a calm summer evening. The ebony night was still and soundless; not even a single shadow dared to dance in the gloom. Nothing moved, and not a single sound of one hushed gasp even broke the silence. It was as though in that single moment, the entire world was frozen in place for one single breath. Then, finally, the silver rays of moonlight shifted and fell upon the large pool of crimson which was spreading across the dark floorboards, like a terrible rose blossoming into its full yet horrifying beauty. The silence was shattered by a scream; an unhuman-like sound which resonated through the midnight air with sickening clarity. That high-pitched wail, agonising to the human ear, seemed to last for hours, until it slowly began to die down into a series of muffled cries and whimpers. Elizabeta, her pure white dress and body speckled with the same deep crimson of her beloved Roderich which was seeping across the ground, fell to her knees and released a strangled sob.



The internal question was laced with heartbreak as the tears cascaded down her beautiful yet tainted face in a torrent of misery. Her Roderich… her dear sweet, beloved husband… He was now gone. Gone forever.

Yet as the tears continued to overwhelm her for minute or so, a flash of light in the darkest part of her mind caused a wicked smile to momentarily flash across her pale face. Her lover was dead, yet, so was the monster… The monster who had tormented and oppressed her for what seemed like an eternity would never once strike fear into her heart again. The portrait laughed louder, and soon Elizabeta herself was finding her own smile growing wider as a burst of euphoria and elation began to boil over inside of her.

In that moment, Elizabeta succumbed to the laughter, and allowed the voice of the portrait to enter her thoughts. The delusion began to take over and for the first time since she had arrived at this dreadful manor house, Lady Elizabeta Edelstein finally felt free.



Not a soul from the village had heard or even caught a glimpse of Lord Edelstein and his lovely wife Elizabeta since the housekeeper had left town for a few weeks to care for a sick relative. Once she had returned to the area, however, she found herself concerned with the reports from various townsfolk and acquaintances that the Edelstein’s estate had been mysteriously quiet the past fortnight. Upon arrival to her place of employment, the housekeeper had become even more concerned to find not a single sign of life; no lights pooling through the windows, no flutters of movement inside. The entire manor was eerily quiet. Far too quiet for comfort.

Upon entry into the manor, the housekeeper was greeted with a deathly silence and the overpowering reek of a heavy, metallic musk. The sickening, rancid stench caused bile to rise up in her throat, but the housekeeper continued to venture deeper into the dark, calling out for her master and mistress. The deeper she descended, the more aware of a noise she became. A distant laughter, echoing through the motionless halls. Heart palpitating tremendously, the housekeeper followed the cheerful sound through the maze-like house, finally reaching the bedroom of Lady Elizabeta Edelstein herself. The great oak door was open just a crack, allowing a single sliver of light too slip out into the hallway. Heart rate and breathing growing heavy, as though lead was lining her stomach and weighing her down, the housekeeper gently pushed at the wooden structure, allowing to creak open painfully slowly. As the contents of the room were gradually revealed, a hysterical scream erupted through the empty house, echoing and reverberating into every nook, cranny and crevice inside. Unfortunately, those cries would never be heard by the outside world.

The last thing the housekeeper saw was Lady Elizabeta Edelstein in a beautiful white dress stained red, laughing merrily as she skipped through a wide pool of her husband’s blood. A manic look, dark and fearsome, was deeply embedded into her once stunning emerald eyes. Then, a sharp pain, and the housekeeper’s world fell into darkness.

Silence fell over the house once again. Standing over the corpse of the second monster, now slain with her trusty letter-opener, the woman in white smiled to herself.

The Portrait of Lady Elizabeta continued to laugh.