Eva Washes Herself

The cold had long since crept into her limbs, meeting the inner chill that formed in her stomach and spread in concentric waves throughout Eva's body, freezing her in place.

Her clothes were torn, dirty and stained with the blood of her hands. The scratches on her palms burned and her knees throbbed in a dull ache. Even if she would have preferred to remain seated, it was imperative that she took care of herself. She rose slowly, the bed creaked under her shifting weight.

She dragged herself to the battered wash basin on the table. The jug next to it was full. Fortunately, she didn't have to leave the room to fetch fresh water.

With rigid fingers, she undid the buttons on her dress until it slid rustling to the floor. Then she reached behind herself to undo the laces of her bodice. The thin undergarment clung to her body, drenched in cold sweat, like a second skin. It was also torn and bloody above the knee. She freed herself from it too.

Completely naked, she stood in the dark room.

Icy air bit into her exposed skin. She shivered uncontrollably. Goose bumps formed on her arms, legs and back. She poured water into the basin, leaned forward and wet her face with it. She hissed through clenched teeth and exhaled. She washed herself not because she wanted to, but because she had to. She scrubbed away dirt and dried earth, crusted blood and the stink of fear.

The whole time, a single thought was spinning in her head: I'm standing here naked in his house. What if he comes now?

She still perceived no sign that he was approaching. He was taking his time. The uncertainty was almost worse than if he had turned up straight away.

Or was he already here? Eva couldn't help but imagine him lurking outside the door, one eye against a gap in the old, warped wood, watching, listening.

She took the rough linen towel and dried herself. The pale face staring back at her from the pool was that of a ghost, distorted by the restless waves running over the surface.

Her imagination painted Julius' face next to hers as he looked over her shoulder. For now, it was a mirage. But he would come.

Eva's vision blurred. There was nothing she could do. Escape was impossible, the mountains themselves enclosed her like an impenetrable wall. No one in the village would take her in and protect her from Julius. And this house, under whose roof she lived, closed around her like a gigantic fist, threatening to crush her.

Something scratched at the window above her.

Startled, Eva clutched the damp cloth to cover herself. Her eyes shot upwards. She saw the excited flapping of black wings. And a shiny, round eye stared back at her unblinking.