The setting is in the Tudor Period, but none of the characters, including the King,
are based on any real characters. I'm just making them up.
However, the characters are living in that era,
And I'll need help making the scene authentic,
So comments would be appreciated
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“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed it the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death. Hail Mary, full of-”
Her bloodcurdling shriek echoed throughout the room and then, my mother’s feverish prayers were silenced forever.
“Never forget who you are, my son.” My father yelled at me as he struggled against the grip of the soldiers’ grip. “Stay true to your faith. You are a Catholic!”
Landing a punch squarely at his jaw, my father was taken away before her could finish telling me that he loved me. Further and further away from the room, my father’s anguished cries for his deceased wife gradually faded into nothing.
I was alone.
Cowering before the pair of soldiers who towered menacingly over me, I backed into a corner, trembling from head to toe.
The room that used to be my father’s study was now barely recognisable. Books were torn and scattered across the carpeted floor, furniture lay smashed to bits. The curtains fluttered with the draft, and from the corner of my eye, I could see the burning pile of remains that were my family’s Bibles and rosaries. None of our Catholic relics were spared. Pieces of glass shards were sprinkled all over the cobbles on the ground. Amongst the glass, I knew there rested my older brother, Charles. He was the one who broke the window.
His body smashed the glass as he was flung out the closed windows from the second level. His screams only lasted for a second before he landed with an ominous thud, and departed from our world.
My father always taught me, that I need not fear death, for when I passed on, I would be accepted into the arms of the Lord. Still, as I stood there awaiting my imminent death, I was terrified.
The taller soldier took out a whip and advanced towards me swiftly, while the other savagely ripped apart my white shirt until it lay in shreds on the floor, fully exposing my upper torso. My eyes widened in horror.
I flinched as the whip sliced across my chest like a sharp knife against a flimsy piece of cloth. The impact of the thin whip was forceful enough to knock the breath out of me.
The red liquid trickled rapidly down my body, and as the soldier struck me repeatedly, my body was soon covered in red lines that dripped blood, bathing me in red. All the while, I lifted my hands up to shield my face, muttering my prayers.
The tears streamed down my face as I fought hard to endure the indescribable pain. I never screamed in agony, but bit down on my lips till I tasted the peculiar metallic flavour of my blood.
I couldn’t feel my arms anymore. The stinging pain from the whipping had resulted in a strange numbing effect.
“Do yer still wan’a be a bloddy Cath’lic?” The soldier whipping me roared, “Are yer of t’e old faith, or are yer a Prot’stant?”
He wanted me to renounce my religion. No, I will not falter in my beliefs. I will never turn my back on my faith. I will always be a Catholic.
“I am…” I struggled to answer, my energy draining rapidly. “I-i am…a-”
My knees gave out, and I collapsed. My breathing was laboured and I did not have enough energy to even lift my eyelids open. I just lay there, waiting for death to claim me, so that I may join my family in heaven.
“…He’s goin’ ter die anyways. I dun want te’ have ter clean his filt’y blood off me sword la’er…”
Those were the last words I heard before the extent of my injuries finally took its toll on me.
***
Remember who you are, son.
Father? Mother? Where are you?
Remember who you are, brother.
Robert?
Remember.
Where are you? Father, Mother? Robert? Where are you? I can’t see you! Take me with you, don’t leave me!
Everything is white, and I see… I see a bright light ahead. It hurts my eyes. I run towards it, but the journey seems endless.
Brother.
I want to yell, “I’m coming for you, Robert! Wait for me!”, but no sound comes out.
No, your time is not up yet, child. A gentle, unfamiliar voice echoes in my head. I don’t want to be alone, don’t go, don’t-
I feel the sharp coolness as water is doused on my face. It is refreshing, but unexpected. I awake with a start, abruptly sitting upright and losing my balance in the process.
“Gaaargh!” I gasp and topple over the edge of what I make out to be a bed. I am lifted back up by two women, and I feel my body go limp again. My energy has not returned.
My face is wet and my hair sticks to it, but my arms are too tired to brush the strands away. My entire body aches and every little movement brings me immense pain.
Where am I?
A young girl around my age approaches me. Her lush, honey golden hair gently swings with her movement. She is wearing a long, flowing white dress with simple designs on it and the entire room seems to light up with her presence.
Is she an angel? Does that mean that I am dead? Where are my parents?
She stares at me with mesmerising blue eyes. They are the colour of the ocean. “Hi, my name is Elisabeth.” She addresses me softly, in a clear and sweet voice. “You are?”
I try to muster enough strength to speak properly, but my voice comes out weak and hoarse.
“Edmund… Edmund Blackwater.”
