~~~1~~~1
Dank stone walls, illuminated with guttering sconces of weak flame, greeted the midwife as she was ushered into the turreted castle. With a firm hand to the small of her back, her host hastened her through the halls and towards the keening cry of a woman in labour. 2
3
The sickly orange light flickered as a draft swirled around their ankles. Just as the pair approached their final destination, several of the flames spluttered out with a subdued sizzle. 4
5
The wooden door shadowed, the midwife thrust out her hand to push it open. Before her hand could touch the aged mahogany surface, the door swung open with an ominous creak. Clinching her shawl about her throat, the woman strode into the room. No sooner had she crossed the threshold, the door shut with a muffled thump. 6
7
Not one to be easily intimidated, she turned her focus to the pale woman on a bed, her face contorted in agony, and coarse cotton sheets crumpled around her ankles. The midwife drew closer, and she could discern that the woman was close to her time - her face and hair slick with the sweat of her labour, and the bed between her thighs dusky with blood. 8
9
As she approached, the woman screamed again, the sound torn from the depths of her belly. The midwife placed her soothing hand on the woman’s flushed forehead; whose skin glowed with love and pain. The midwife discreetly checked the woman’s vital signs, before turning to the large, water-filled, enamel washbasin that sat on the low table beside the bed. 10
11
The woman screamed ardently through gnashing teeth, her head raised and tense above down-filled pillows. The midwife encouraged her to brace her palms against her knees and bear down. Coming to the front of her, the midwife waited for the final agony, her palms spread in anticipation. 12
13
One last excruciating muscle spasm guaranteed the expulsion of the infant into the midwife’s waiting hands. She immediately hoisted the babe by one ankle, and with a resounding slap screams of new life ensued. 14
15
As the midwife turned the child to view its screeching face, she gasped. The child’s skin was parchment thin – a tracery of blue veins scrawled across chest and arms. Glancing down at the infant’s face, the midwife dropped her unceremoniously to the bed, whilst hurriedly crossing herself. Further examination revealed additional abominable deformities, and when the child lazily opened her eyes, the midwife stumbled back from the bed. 16
17
The child’s soulless eyes regarded her with an evilness that the midwife had only heard told of in the tales of passing journeymen. Rubbing the silver cross at her throat, she whispered. “Het gevallen kind van de Duivel.” 18
19
A murmur from the mother summoned the midwife to her duties, and she wrapped the infant in swaddling cloths, her fingers trembling as she tucked the linen around the child’s pale face. 20
As the child was presented, the mother inclined her head over the child, and, unperturbed by the infant’s visage, whispered. “Lilith.” 21
22
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 23
~~~2~~~ 24
Lilith Abildgaard’s realm of existence was one of darkness. Ignorant of other possibilities, she knew it simply as her world. 25
26
Though blind, Lilith perceived her environment vividly. The tips of her fingers taught her the difference between the firm moist walls of her imprisonment, and the silken fragility of the feathers in her quilt. She could discern the subtle variations of the assorted odours that permeated her space - the tallow of the candles as they burnt down the wicks, the fecund stench that wafted from the chamber pots or the delicate scent of Moeder’s talcum powder as she leant toward Lilith to whisper her goodbyes. 27
28
Her tongue and nose integrated as one to tell her when her Moeder had prepared her favourite supper, and likewise if her Beschermer had given her rancid milk or watery soup, as she was inclined to do, when Moeder accompanied Vader on his expeditions. 29
30
Of these other senses, none approached the aptitude in regards to her range of hearing. She acquired an uncommon skill from an early age; she discovered that by clicking her fingers, the resonance of sound varied depending on the size, composition, and location of objects within her world. She learnt to walk silently, only allowing the constant snap of her fingers to guide her path. 31
32
For the first years of her life, she never spoke. Except for faint murmurings, the silent midnight of her world weighed upon her existence. 33
34
At four, she received the first of a series of shaped metal plates. The lead plates spanned the gaping cleft that ran from her upper soft palate, through her hard palate and gum, and up to the base of her nose. All her upper front teeth, with the exception of her incisors, had erupted from her gum brittle and deformed. Opposing sides of Lilith’s split lip were drawn together during a horrendous procedure, secured with two thick lengths of wire. 35
36
The upper wire served to anchor the front part of the plate, and the rear of the plate wired to her molars. A raised section at the front, between her incisors, served as prosthetic teeth, replacing the teeth that had splintered from her mouth. 37
38
Two days ago, at fifteen, Lilith had yet another plate refitted. Despite her protestations and cries, Vader had pinned her down on her cot, and replaced her outgrown plate with one suitable for her age. 39
40
Now, as she awaited the arrival of her Beschermer, she tongued the foreign structure in her mouth. 41
42
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 43
~~~3~~~ 44
Gerda Riis, an aged, barren widow from Greitswald, ambled slowly up the incline to the Abildgaard’s fortified stronghold. Peering ahead with rheumy eyes, she pursed her wrinkly lips with disdain. Had Gerda been able to change her current vocation, she would. However, in this time – 1593 – and place, there were precious few opportunities for a woman of her particular status. Regardless of the marks of rigsdaler that Mijnheer Abildgaard furnished her with, Gerda considered her employer’s child, and thus her charge, a perversion of nature. 45
46
In the village the child was referred to as ‘het gevallen kind van de Duivel’; the phrase spoken in hushed whispers around fires in the dead of winter, and accompanied with hooded glances to the west. 47
48
The curse suited the child. Lilith Abildgaard should have died at birth, and Gerda, to this day, cursed the midwife for not doing her duty by smothering the abomination. Instead, the cowardly woman had returned to the village, muttering that the Devil had befallen upon Greitswald for the sins of the people. 49
50
Monstrous afflictions riddled the child’s mien. The child led a solitary and clandestine life, her parents restricting her to a single bedchamber. The windows of this cavernous room plugged with stone and mortar, so as not a single ray of sunlight ever entered the room. Some light did intrude the space; derived from candles used by either the child’s parents, or Gerda herself. 51
52
Of late, Gerda had attempted to convince the child herself of her deformities. A month ago, she had brought a looking glass into the room to encourage the child to despise her own reflection. The child had merely turned her expressionless face to Gerda, and tilting her head, unblinkingly lisped that she did not see a thing. 53
54
Finally shuffling the last few feet to the outer walls of the castle, Gerda raised a weary arm to ring the bell pull. Before the echo of the peals could rumble back to haunt the real, the gate opened, revealing the stooped figure of the watchman. A curt nod accompanied a toothless grin, as he admitted her to the inner sanctum. 55
56
After a brief acknowledgement, she veered away from where he stood and trudged towards her final destination. The mildewed limestone walls absorbed the meagre light that flickered at intervals along the hall. In places, the canker grew heavily - nurtured by slick patches of moisture that congregated in the mortared seams. 57
58
Outside of the girl’s bedchamber, a rickety table set with a freshly filled oil lamp awaited Greta’s arrival. Without pausing, Greta lit the wick with the flint she carried, before retrieving a cumbersome brass key from a tiny alcove in the wall. Grasping the lamp tightly with her left hand, she manoeuvred the key into the corresponding lock with her right. 59
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 60
~~~4~~~ 61
Lilith had perceived the heavy-footed woman’s approach long before her fumbled movements at the table. Without straining her hearing, she could hear Greta’s hitching breath as she shuffled towards the door, as well as the whisper of cold metal sliding across stone that signalled the opening of the door of her confinement. Silently, she swiftly rose from a chair and padded towards left of the door, ceasing her movement within a hairs breadth from the wall. She swivelled her body until she faced the centre of the room, and lingered for the moment it took the door to swing open. 62
63
Gerda entered, and Lilith’s nostrils flared as she processed the entire spectrum of scents that clung to the air around her Beschermer, then distinguished them individually - the cloying scent of singed wick and ignited oil, the pungent odour of sour breath and perspiration, a faintly earthy scent, and fear. Lilith’s lips quirked as she identified the last; a strange scent that told her the extent of trepidation the woman felt in her presence. 64
65
“Where is the monstrous little beastie?” the woman taunted, and Lilith could hear the faint creak of her neck as she swivelled her head from one side of the room to the other. Lilith could sense the false bravado that dripped from the woman’s words - a faint quiver of her lips as the words formed. 66
67
“Show yourself, het gevallen kind van de Duivel!” 68
69
Lilith felt the air shiver as her Beschermer spat the insult – a quake of resentful breath forced out with a huff. She caught a snarl as it rose in her throat, repressing it as a hiss. She slid noiselessly from where the door concealed her, pausing where the stench of the woman was the strongest. 70
71
“What iss the mathur, Moidur Reess?” Lilith queried awkwardly, the lisp caused by her plate pronounced. 72
73
Leaning back, Lilith had heard the subtle rustling of coarse cloth before she sensed the shift in the air caused by her Beschermer’s sudden movement. She avoided what would have been a slap, but a wave of air washed over her face. 74
75
“I am not your Moeder, fiend. If I had been, I would have sent you back from where you came!” 76
77
Lilith brushed off the insult; having her ears assaulted with the same unimaginative phrases from the same unintelligent individual had grown wearisome. Sneering at her Beschermer maliciously, she replied with her own favourite taunt. 78
79
“Iss tha why you hath no offsss’ring, Ger’tha Reess?” 80
81
Lilith smirked as the woman erupted into a fit of snarls and shrieks. Distracted, a sharp pain to her legs reminded her that the spiteful woman would kick anything in range. Lilith backed away, hissing in vexation. 82
83
“You petulant, ungrateful child!” the woman screamed. “I come here everyday to feed and care for you, and you mock me for my barrenness, and accuse me of ungodly things…” 84
85
Lilith barely listened to the woman’s rants, much less responded. Instead, she glided to her bed, picked up her gilded ivory brush and begun combing it over her fragile tresses. Turning her head to where her Beschermer still shrieked, Lilith assumed a serene poise. 86
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 87
~~~5~~~ 88
Gerda Riis raged on the injustices of her life for several moments before she realised that the child had studiously ignored her; sitting on the bed pulling a decadent hairbrush through her stringy, pallid hair. 89
90
Apart from the blasphemous mouth, the child’s skin was pasty – the aberrant white unblemished by any smudge of normalcy, her transparent eyelashes and eyebrows framing frightful crimson pupils and irises. The child’s delicate complexion brought to mind another of the child’s defects, and Gerda smiled vindictively. “I’ll take you for a stroll in the lovely sunlight, shall I?” her voice cloyingly sweet. 91
92
The reaction from the child was agreeable; Greta watched as the child dropped the hairbrush in fright, and shuffled up the bed, away from her. Greta laughed hollowly. “Your Vader told me of your allergy,” she sneered. “About how I needed to be careful, how I wasn’t to take you on strolls in the garden before sundown. If your Vader loves you so much, why is he not here, Duivel?” 93
94
The child jumped up, indignant. “Va’er and Moidur luth mee ’ea’ee…thay arrr dif’er’mathss.” 95
96
“Diplomats indeed they are, Duivel,” Gerda replied wryly. “But they spent more time than one does away from their child.” She regarded Lilith with derision. “Though, you are not their child, rather you are a het gevallen kind van de Duivel. The townsfolk all know you are a changeling – unlike a human child, you have no soul,” she crowed. 97
98
Gerda curled her lip when the child hissed as Gerda’s contempt visibly infuriated her. She chuckled. “Yes, child, I know what you really are; a foul, loathsome, beastie that crawled from the pits of hell, come to punish us for our sins. Mark my words, I shall send you back.” At the last, Gerda snatched a pillow from the bed and advanced on the cringing child. 99
100
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 101
~~~6~~~ 102
Pressed against the wooden uprights at the end of her bed, Lilith grasped one of the smooth posts in fear, until her knuckles cracked. Her Bescherner’s ominous voice ringing in her ears, she whimpered as she heard the woman’s soft foot falls approaching. 103
104
She had once quizzed Moeder about the phrase, ‘het gevallen kind van de Duivel’ that she heard both her Beschermer, and sometimes Vader, speak of. Her Moeder hushed her, whispering that Lilith was her special angel, as she softly stroked her wispy hair. Touching her distorted mouth, Moeder had assured her that she was not de Duivel, and the cleft in her palate and lip merely an old family trait. 105
106
Busy with his diplomatic duties, Vader remained largely absent. Nonetheless, Moeder explained that he cared enough to commission, from across the Scandinavian Empire in Finland, the costly prostheses for Lilith’s mouth. Lilith had nodded with limited understanding; though the plates hurt, they allowed her to eat and speak with relative ease. 107
108
Still uneasy, Lilith had played her tongue over the incisors that had grown slightly longer than the rest of her teeth, and unlike her Moeder or Vader’s incisors, tapered to a sharp point. Moeder had scowled and reprimanded her; scolding her for bringing attention to the abnormality. At Lilith’s teary apologies, Moeder had consoled her with the promise of gold crowns for the teeth. 109
110
A creak arising from the end of her bed broke Lilith’s fondly reflective reverie. In an effect to locate her Beschermer, she swept her arm before her, clicking her fingers, twice, at intervals along the arc. A change in pitch off centre to her right, fixed the location of her aggressor. A series of rapid clicks in that direction established that the woman sat near the end on the bed. 111
112
“Eh em no Du’ell,” she hissed at her Beschemer. 113
114
Lilith heard a grunt of throat clearing, followed by the wet retort of spittle ejected from the woman’s mouth. She shrunk back as the aqueous projectile smeared itself across her cheek. 115
116
“De Duivel shall welcome you back, child,” the woman snarled as she shifted her weight up the bed towards Lilith. 117
118
Before her mind could process a rapid reception of signals, her face registered a soft, downy, pressure that covered her mouth and nose. Lilith struggled as the restriction of her breathing made the first tiny pricks of light burst behind her eyes. She spent a mere second wondering at the marvel, when her heart seized with panic and she thrashed wildly. 119
120
Her delicate nails bowed under the pressure as she clawed any expanse of skin not her own. Bony legs and knees flailed in vain hope of relief. As air was denied further entry to her lungs, Lilith saw another darkness approach. It was fathomless, neither close nor far, but it had come to replace her comfortable darkness with fearful night. 121
122
As her body arrested its vigorous struggle, Lilith retreated to her inner inky domain. Oxygen deprived, the damage from the lead in her mouth asserted its corruption on her mind. A spectre of tiny lights danced to a solitary tune, forming and reforming in gusts and whirls. It paused, and whispered to Lilith, its voice maliciously tender. 123
124
“Fight back - she is only a craven old crone.” 125
126
Lilith’s primal instinct for survival gathered the discarded reins of her feeble life, infusing her cells with adrenalin. As the vital hormone coursed through her, she perceived that her aggressor, presuming that she had triumphed, retracted her instrument of murder. 127
128
As she inhaled a lungful of sweet air, her spectre faded as it fought the tendrils of forever night. The auditory hallucination remained. 129
130
“She hates you, she has always hated you,” the comforting voice affirmed. 131
132
Lilith breathed, recalling every occasion the woman had tampered with her food, every spiteful word, and every hurt she had visited upon her. 133
134
“She is de Duivel, you are an innocent angel.” The lilting tone soothed Lilith’s racing heart as she remained still. 135
136
“You must kill her.” The voice was now hard and unforgiving. 137
138
Lilith blinked; her eyelids fluttering against the pillow. “How?” she whispered steamily. 139
140
“Wait until the crone’s curiosity compels her to examine you. Then you must strike – use what you were given through misfortune and fate.” 141
142
Lilith explored her mouth again with her tongue, the tip coming to rest where one of her incisors had pierced her bottom lip. 143
144
“Yesss,” her consciousness hissed. “Yess.” 145
146
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 147
~~~7~~~ 148
After suffocating the child, Gerda left the pillow on the child’s face. Lilith’s crimson eyes frightened her badly in life, and she quickly feared what they would hold in death. As she stood by the door, her body quaked – her rapid inhale and exhale fraught with exhilaration and trepidation. 149
150
For ten minutes, she alternated between wringing her hands and fidgeting with the golden cross that rested on her clavicle. Still the child did not move; one ashen hand rested limply, palm up on the rumpled sheet, small crescents of blood spotting the fabric under the curled fingers. 151
152
Stiffening her resolve, Gerda approached the bed. Leaning over the child, she removed the pillow swiftly, closing her eyes against the horror of the child’s face. 153
154
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 155
~~~8~~~ 156
Primed for action, Lilith waited patiently, denying her body any relief through movement. Finally, the woman drew near; Lilith could hear her rapid pants. Signalled by a slight twinge, the pillow lifted from her face. As the woman’s rancid breath tickled her eyelids, Lilith launched herself upward. Lunging, with mouth wide open, Lilith sunk her teeth into the woman’s warm skin. 157
Manoeuvring the woman, Lilith brought a hand up, pulling the woman down, and forward. Surprise in her court, she rolled the woman, pinning her to the bed. After scraping her teeth, and ripping through delicate flesh, Lilith pulled back as the woman flailed and screamed in terror. 158
159
Sensing the exact location of her Beschermer's throat, from the vibrations it made as a variety of curses and shrieks coursed from it, Lilith lunged again. As she sunk her teeth into the woman's neck, she felt the quiver of heartbeat tickle her tongue, the vein at the side of the woman’s neck twitching frantically. 160
161
After several minutes of frenziedly biting and gnawing, Lilith’s face was abruptly drenched with warm blood. Her madness complete, she swallowed the woman’s life force, continuing to rip and tear at the flesh beneath her mouth. Finally, Lilith’s antagonist ceased her struggle, and unlike Lilith, she succumbed to the darkness. 162
163
Her primal desire sated, Lilith sat back on her heels, rocking herself. The voice returned to her. 164
165
“You have done well my child, but listen closely, she is not yet dead.” 166
167
Lilith strained her ears. Faintly she could hear another whisper. 168
169
“Evil child, you are like your Vader de Duivel…” Lilith wrapped her hands around her ears, moaning. Her Beschermer could not be alive. Despite her lament, her Beschermer spoke, the words eerily ripped from a ruined throat. 170
171
“You can not kill me, child.” The scorn drove Lilith to cry out; she flung her arm to bat away the hateful woman. 172
173
The whispered voice laughed as Lilith’s hand hit one of timber uprights at the end of the bed. With a hoarse shout, she wrapped her hands around the bevelled timber. With preternatural strength, she ripped it from the frame. Her spectre returned, shimmering on the peripheral of her closed eyelids. 174
175
“Kill her,” it commanded. 176
177
Lilith raised the splintered wooden rod high above her head with two hands. Hissing, she drove it downwards, impaling the body of her deceased Beschermer through the chest. 178
179
“Excellent.” The spectre praised her, before departing and leaving Lilith in bloody silence. 180
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~~~9~~~ 183
Two days later, when Gerda Riis failed to return, several of the township’s men folk stormed the Abildgaard stronghold. They hauled the strange albino girl, filthy with dried blood, back to the village. In the hour it took to bring her there, her skin reddened, hives developed and blisters formed. Shackling her in the village square they listened as she madly raved how her Beschermer had survived her vicious mauling. 184
185
Examining the body, they found that the wooden stake pierced her heart. Fearing that the girl spoke the truth; that as a het gevallen kind van de Duivel, her evilness would be inherited by any unfortunate to have been bitten, several of the men folk who had brought her down were killed in like manner. 186
187
Finally, at the fall of night, she too was executed. In a fit of fervent enthusiasm, they also decapitated her, keeping her head in a pickling jar - to warn and to ridicule. 188
189
~~~10~~~ 190
The gypsies that journeyed through the village repeated the story in their travels throughout Scandinavia; the otherworldly girl with pale skin, red eyes, and pointed incisors. Of how she had killed a woman by savaging her throat to drink her blood and that sunlight burned her skin. Finally, they told of how the villagers laid her to rest without her head and a wooden stake through her heart. 191
She truly was het gevallen kind van de Duivel; the Devil’s fallen child, the first true walker of the dark. 192
193
Bronze trophy winner
Gold trophy winner
Honorable winner
Silver trophy winner
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