Elizabeth

I thought I understood the nature of this island. But like Icarus before me, I have flown too close to the sun. Elizabeth played the part perfectly. Every line, brimming with emotion… but when the beheading came, she faltered. She cried out to me, pleaded, but in my brash foolishness I had Bancroft drop the axe. When she dissipated into dust, she did not return… Instead, she sparked with an energy I have never seen before. Her voice screamed out from the heavens what a terrible man I was, and that she would haunt me for eternity. Then, my beloved muse vanished. Alcott and Bancroft have left me, seizing the opportunity to take flight as I mourned upon the stage. Blythe has now begun to decay, and I fear she may break from her chains at any moment. Every night I am tormented by visions of Elizabeth, hanging over my bed to punish me for my transgressions. As the sun sets, I can hear her voice wail from over the walls. Now I only wish for death, but it never comes. Every time I try, I can feel something foul welling up inside of me… Oh, what a fool I was! What an insolent, vain, blithering, insufferable fool. I knew of their pain, and I cared not. What a curse this island is! Blast the fates that brought me here! If only I had understood their suffering. If only I had cared. -William Eastburn