Emptiness

Was one way to describe the once cheerful, playful woman. The loss of her husband, accompanied by the complete erasal of her lover had gotten to her in a way she didn't want anyone to see.

Why? She always asked to herself. Wasn't there simply another way to confront the Erlking - the Heathcliff that hunted other Heathcliffs - and leave with triumph?

Her hands were intertwined together in her lap where she sat like a doll, a lady who's as fragile and elegant as herself must now be treated with delicacy, as she is already broken with the weight of grief.

She gazed out the window into Wuthering Heights, and the rain clouds surrounding it, a reminder to her past, those nights her and Heathcliff would huddle up for how scared they were of the loud roars of lightning.

And now the sight of the ruined Manor a reminder of the end of her spoiled life.

Catherine put his hand on Mephistopheles' window, gazing out intently as if she saw Heathcliff's ghost, calling out to her, seeking her inside the Manor. With trembling steps she stood up and stepped outside, went under the heavy rain in the sepia-toned sky of T Corp's Nest, and she started to march towards the Manor once more