Chapter 6: Into the Past
'I— the infant must be here, or must return here at some point. My earliest memories are of this house, I suppose I was four or five years old. Those surely cannot be changed... And the baby will need to be fed. They kept Kate here for that, but without her they will need a wet nurse.' Penny explained. She remembered a succession of nannies and governesses, many gray-faced women for whom she was little more than a job, but some had cared for her, offering her glimpses of light, though they'd not lasted long in Father's employ. Eventually, when the she could take care of herself, it had no longer been cost-effective to have someone care for her.
In a disgusted tone over simmering rage, Penny muttered 'Belial. He tried to cheat history and bring his plot to escape forward over a century. As if an immortal could not wait. And he succeeded...' This violation of her past, her very being, and her mother and friend was too much to bear. She felt as hollowed out and ruined as one of the Ripper's victims, all in her heart and soul and behind her in her shadow and past, filled with something vile and loathsome she couldn't wait to be rid of.
Unable to stand, Penny sat down again on the bed, her hands in her lap and staring at the floor, and through, into the rest of the house and her memories. 'Growing up in this house, my childhood was unhappy and restricted. My father – well, Vortigern Darkmoor – was a cold, cruel, and loveless man... But it could have been worse, I suppose. Abject poverty, worse abuses – some should count me fortunate and privileged, and I was. I had an education, some measure of freedom. I should be relieved my father was content to ignore me much of the time.'
'If a child may be said to rebel against their parents, then I rebelled by trying to be a nice, decent, unselfish person. To have a heart where my father had none. I fought against his strictures by being independent. And I found my own happiness, out on the moor and in the village and alone in my books. Penny sighed. 'I have my own mind and a good heart now, but there were times...' She trailed off, dispelling those dark thoughts, her anger and bitterness at growing up in a house without love, listening to Father's endless bile with darkness all around. What else could she have become? Darkmoors certainly had some bad habits and had produced some scoundrels. 'But please, do not worry for me: I survived and turned out a good person, I believe.'
'But what if, in this coming iteration of history, Belial has me tormented and corrupted further, if he fills my head with a demon? Then I shall have no choice in the matter. I am Belial's chosen key, to his cage in the Pit. He has made me, he must also shape me. How, I do not know, but I dread to think.' Penny shivered, then was resolute. 'And I would rather die or be erased than become the instrument of his escape.' she vowed.
'Castiel. Your eyes can pierce the veil of time. Can you possibly guarantee that my history will not be altered further? That the baby will be as safe as I was? Can you?' she pressed, feeling sure that he could not possibly, not after what had already happened.
'And Kate– I don't care for myself, but I simply cannot separate you from your child, deprive you of motherhood.' Penny was pained. She wanted to do the right thing by Kate – still her friend, as well as everything else – yet this cruel trick of Belial's left them with no good options. She'd tried to argue and reason her way through this, which was all that she had, but the paradox yielded no solution. Nothing seemed to resolve the issue and still guarantee the course of history. She needed a third option.
Then she remembered the results of her last excursion through time, all those identical suitcases lined up in her hotel room. 'My luggage! I have duplicates from 1890 and 2013. Surely the same will happen if we relocate the child? Two of them, two of the babe. History could stand two of us, surely?'
This message was last edited by the player at 13:00, Tue 03 Nov 2015.