mxrdrake:

frauleinkunstlerin:

“Fantastical stories … it’s no story, you don’t have to hide it.” Her voice became quieter as she spoke now, not wanting any of the others to hear one single word. What they would do, was dragging her back into her cell, trying to make her forget — no, no, no… Jurkily, Elsa turned her head to observe the room. They were not allowed to hear, to see … They would not understand.

Then, she leaned in her head closer, not even daring to breathe properly. “You know me too. Don’t talk such Stuss, you … wanted to take me in my tent. To the other side, you said. But your demon face wanted to take this, damn, this, clown.” Swallowing hard, the inmate moved back her head to glance at him, her once so beautiful curly hair, all wild. Her statement would sound like the answer was clear. “I am Elsa Mars. You can’t lie to me. Take me now — take me, I can’t live like this!”

The poor woman was, at first glance, clearly disturbed. It troubled him to see such urgency in her gaze, to see that she sought clear answers from him. What could he say? It would be cruel to lead her along in this fantasy, but he could not hit her with the cold truth either. A softer touch was needed.

“Miss Elsa,” he spoke quietly, concern pooling in his clear blue gaze. “I cannot take you from this place. You are not yet ready to leave it. But… I believe I can help you. I believe I can offer you peace, if that is what you seek. Would you like that?”

Listening to him only made it worse. What was he talking about? Of course, he could take her from this place – if he wanted to. What if he left without her for a second time? Taking another patient instead? No, this time, Elsa could not let him go again. He was the only chance she got and she, sure as Hell, would not miss it. Her confused hazel eyes widened at his offer, believing that she finally found someone who would understand her and provide her the peace and protection she needed.

“Y-yes, I would like that,” she mumbled in disbelief, her eyes nearly clinging onto his, seeking for an answer, “Please help me, Edward Mordrake. Don’t leave without me again. Is it … is it Halloween yet? Do I need to sing for you?”