The hall clock struck ten, the staff, as always were taking tea in the kitchen, as she whisked her way along the landing dressed only in her best nightdress and dressing gown. Since early light the lad had waited for her arrival, after a restless night, eager to find more of the facts he so desperately needed. At his door she hesitated a second, checked her hair in a hall mirror, and then as she had before swept in locking his door behind her. The bed was made and the room tidier than it had not been for months, He was sitting on the window seat dressed in PJ`s and a dressing gown both in light blue, sat reading at the mullioned window the sunlight streaming through the window pane. “Good morning Montigue, I trust you slept well?” it was a rhetorical question, but he answered it anyway, saying that “With your body on my mind it has been a long tiring night.” She smiled, flattered that she had had that effect on the lad, and imagining him tossing away. They seemed to be tiptoeing. She circled like she was dancing with it, always moving. By the fourth time she’d managed to hit it, she’d done enough damage that it could no longer turn its head to the left. It had to try to twist its torso to keep her in its vision, but it couldn’t actually turn around fast enough on its slithering tentacles. She managed to slip behind it and grab it by its greasy hair. Hauling its head back, she brought her knife down in three quick chops, folding and dragging it’s neck back further with every cut. Cane knives were designed to make short work of fibrous stalks of sugar cane. Against meat, they were similar to a cleaver. The creature’s whole head folded back, barely supported by the flap of viscera of the back side of its neck. It writhed in agony as something inside its neck pushed upward, bleeding from where Lace’s blade had gone through the meat of the neck and into whatever was hiding inside.It looked like the middle section of a reddish-purple eel. It clearly did not like.
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