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I just finished packing my clothes in the box but I took a break before I even placed them into the car. Sorting out everything is a wreck! To me, I didn’t honestly thought it was fair that I had to do the packing all by myself, yet, my stupid little brother, Brittle, was able to get help from me and my parents because, “he’s younger.” It’s only been six days since dad got promoted as the Division Manager of the Orthodox Company and it's already moving to Britain. Or should I simply pronounce it, “England!” Since my mother, as silly as she is, thinks it’s a bad name to call it just “Britain.”
My father already found a home around there, however, there’s a problem about it. It’s a very cheap and lonely mansion. I told my father, why choose that one, of all the other houses he would afford. But because that he founded out it was the only mansion available, to which I don’t believe, he purposely ignore everything else about this information. After talking over and over again about it, I really didn't give a crap about it anymore. I just muttered, “whatever you say,” and shrugged it off.
After a 10 minute break, I took one box each and stuffed them in the back of the moving truck. Meanwhile, Brittle is enjoying his break with a “HUGE help!!”
So me and my family are already in the car, my dad is driving and the movers are following. Mom hates heights, so we had to go on a boat. As we continued driving again, already Brittle was screwing around, and causing havoc. I tried to ignore it as normal as I could. It’s natural since he lacks a lot of discipline than I ever would.
But then the worst comes in when he starts picking on and harassing me. I can’t even remember in words of how bad it is. He started throwing food at me, making them annoying noises, kept on calling me, to the limit when I finally told him to shut up, along comes my mother scolding me. As she implies me to leave him alone, for I’m the one bothering him. Can you believe how dense she is? She and my father are always on his defense. It makes me slightly angry, satisfying Brittle at the process. You can tell because he makes a slight grin at me before sticking his tongue at me.
Luckily, we were 3 hours away to our new home. I was already getting sick of all this drama and harassment. I went upstairs to avoid undoing the packing, I suppose Brittle was doing the same, while my parents were doing all the work by themselves. There were a list of bedrooms that were in the halls with only one bathroom. So, I decided to take the 12th one for myself. I don’t even know if these were anybody else’s surroundings, but to be honest with you, the room looks very nice. I guess you can say, it’s well roundup like a Barbie Doll House. I closed the door, placed all my bags in the side and jumped right in the bed. It was very soft, pretty much where you don’t have to roll over to find a comfortable position to sleep on it. I was tired anyways, so I took a little nap.
A few hours past, and I woke up only to feel very light headed. Although I wanted to just go back to sleep, I decided not to since my throat was also dry. I got out of the room and went downstairs, at that time I heard strange noises, and discovered that my family was not present inside the mansion. Maybe they still had a lot of luggage to unpack, or are trying to find their own rooms. After all, they’re only 18 to 20 bedrooms. Hey. Who is to say that a mansion can’t be that fancy. I wandered around various of big rooms just so I can look for the kitchen, when I finally found it, I heard some very silent noises that actually can sound unhearable. It occurred a few times until it became more clearer.
“Madam……………………………………………………..”
I was a little creeped out, but I decided to ignore it. I opened the fridge and there was already a glass of ice cold water left untouched. There wasn’t a single bottle and I don’t even know if the water is running in this mansion, so I decided to take it. Hopefully it didn’t contaminate me. I was going to head back to bed while I was drinking the glass of water. However, the more sips I took, the more my condition got worse. It was at my limit I started losing my balance, almost to the inability to be able to go upstairs. I took slow steps hanging on the rails. I was then met with a slight female chuckle, it wasn’t loud, but way beyond quiet. It seemed impossible to hear. I looked around to wonder who is making all of these noise. Maybe, I’m suffering from insomnia? Or could it be my mother who is possibly reading a book? Who knows? All I know is the fact I was about to lose conscious in seconds. As I finally made it upstairs, it was a little too late. Everything was going black and my whole body was about to fall asleep on me, but not before I saw a figure from far away with only fiery red eyes glowing a bit, by then, I found myself asleep.
I opened my eyes, only to discover I was in my bed, tucked in, and with pajamas. The first thing I saw was a man was opening the curtains for the beautiful sun to shine. I must have slept off the day, for the last time I can recall my trip, the sun was already setting. Now it would be so bad must his appearance didn’t disturb me much. I couldn’t say he was a man, but then again he could be a cosplayer or something. However, he had white horns, he wore a tuxedo, and a long blue arrowed tail sticking out of the back of his pants. I couldn’t see his face clearer but the first thing he said to me was, “Good Morning, Madam Penelope. You must have been asleep all yesterday, perhaps.”
Tilting my head, I was riddled with so many questions directly after he first spoke to me. Who is this man, and how did he know my name? I didn’t speak at first because I didn’t want to be rude to someone I just met.
“What’s wrong, madam?” the man said speaking in loyalty, “No words to speak out? Is it a paralysis?” Before he would resume, I finally spoke. Hoping that he won’t give me any long dialogue questions acting like he’s Shakespeare, considering he has a british accent, “Have we…. met before? How do you know my name?”
“‘Have we met?’” the man responded to my question, “Of course not!” The man turns around. This is where I should have been very very shocked, however I was still a bit nauseous from last night, as if I woke up from having like a dozen of boozes, despite the fact that I’m sober. His eyes were so red, I thought it was blood while his pupils were yellow as the sun. His skin was like a river blue. A dark river blue, in fact, I never thought it was his real skin. Either it’s halloween and he has good makeup equipment or something else. Because no one normal would look like that. But maybe I’m dreaming. He bows down with his left hand in his chest and his right arm extending to the right direction and answers his name, “Staniel Ainsworth, at your service!”
I tilted my head thinking to myself, What the hell kind of a name is Staniel? As for the surname Ainsworth. I guess you can say it’s an English name.
“Your father, Master Riddick, has told me alot about you. He said you ended up having a fever and passed out. We’re currently serving you a delicious beverage you will love alot so it’s best for you to take your rest.”
The moment he said that was the moment I realized, this man is actually one of them English butlers. Literally, a butler. Maybe cosplaying but who knows? He actually advise me to get some more rest as he left to get me some coffee or whatever. As curious as I was I decided, screw that and get up. Despite this small dizziness I went down the stairs and saw my father taking a cup of tea. He looked overjoyed, for whatever reason.
He looks at me with this crazy loving father act and approaches me, “Dear Sweet Penelope Forrester I Have Some Sweet News!” he shouted before sipping his tea and resumes, “The mansion turns out to be cheaper than I thought and we were able to have free well skilled butlers!”
“How does that work?” I asked, knowing a butler doesn’t work for no damn free.
“Good question!” he replied, “ All I had to do was to sign a contract.”
“What was the contract about?”
“Well….. I haven’t had the time to read it but. I can say it was a friendly contract.”
Of course his dumbass didn’t read it. You can tell because he was so excited about moving in to a bigger place and having some rich fancy bullshit than focus on the things that are important. It ironically isn’t surprising since this happened before and we nearly got bankrupt from that one incident. I just shrugged it off and later asked where mom and Brittle was, and dad told me their locations. Mom is in the library reading something while Brittle is messing around in his new bedroom. Probably making a mess in my opinion. I’m not cleaning up his garbage, I don’t care what they command!
I went to the kitchen and then there was another butler I saw who is actually cooking breakfast. It was a female this time. However, she was just like Staniel. A long tail, blue skin, white horns and the same colored eyes that I assume is all makeup cosplay, however. She had long hair, and was wearing a different tuxedo only a man can wear for what I recall. She turns her head to me and ask, “May I help you, Madam?”
“I was…..” I paused for a minute, astonished because this is the second butler wearing such weird makeup and then I tried to make a excuse, “Looking for water. You must be a butler?”
“I assume you met my baby brother, Stan!” She answered, at the very least I can call him by his nickname and not that weird ass name, “Sherylion Ainsworth at your service!” She nodded and turned her head back resume her cooking. Another weird name I just heard. So weird, I decided to call her “Sheryl” instead. “Stan was just serving you a beverage. Do you want any beverages?” she asked.
“I wanted something cold to drink.” I responded. Sheryl tilted her head in a sort of confusion and then gives me a bright smile. She points towards the refrigerator and says, “There’s a ice cold glass of water right there in the fridge, Madam. If you want I can get it for you.” I went to get it myself. A good old fashion cold drink wouldn’t bother me much. For it could only drain away my post-dizziness.
I walk away from the kitchen and then decided to go upstairs. Walking there, I saw two frames of strange pictures that caught my attention. One of the frames was a well made painting of a man with those kind of long circle bearded moustaches, wearing a hat, and a fancy victorian clothing. Another frame is the same guy, this time, wearing a different clothing. It was a half buttoned white shirt and black pants with spandex and a not done tie. He was sweating and had a whip. Torturing what it seems to be two African slaves who are just doing what is told in order to survive. That is, gardening outside. In the background, it’s the same mansion that we live in, however, the title on the house poster of the front yard, ironically, said “Blackwood”.
I went outside to get some fresh air. Thinking my anxiety was increasing worst than just drinking a glass of water. When I turned around, the house poster in the front said “Forrester”. This surprised me on the inside however, because in the frame I saw “Blackwood”. It kinda tells me that since we moved in, the poster kinda changed. But I don’t think it takes like 12 hours to finish it. Probably more than that.
I walk around to see my mother inside of a beautiful glassed garden room. Probably browsing on the beautiful flowers inside, or some of the sculptures. Walking in the side yard, I saw a giant doghouse. I don’t know, but it looks very very odd. I don’t think anyone that rich would have a big dog house, let alone make one. Unless the dog is Clifford size. Then again, we don’t even have a dog. Maybe the “Blackwood” family must’ve had one. Then again, we wouldn’t want them to bulldoze it in case we are either dead or moved out of the home.
With all that aside, I took a deep breath and just walking right back inside after a good clean fresh air. I walked to the huge sitting room to at least get some solitude. Preventing all the noises, it was then I just took a chill and decided to move on.
My memory is still stiff as I write this but however….
Ever since we had this mansion, my father still got so excited. I was still a little frustrated. My brother still pulled the most vicious pranks. So vicious that it made me want to thrash the little brat for once. But knowing my mother, she would confiscate all of my belongings. You can tell it was so obvious that she loves him more than me. It only has gotten worst because she always annoys me over everything. Especially “quality time” with the family. That I should “take a break from the electricity or books and stuff and relax.” When she means by “relax” she means by suffer with this miserable ass family.
What is different in this family however, is the fact that the butlers actually has shown a more family figured manner than that of my real family. Stan would always find ways to cheer me up, along with his older sister Sheryl. They would make me some nice coffee that actually makes me truly calm down. They would discuss some of the facts about my interests that I never knew about.
Stan always smiles, even in the most miserable situations. And I never knew why. Probably because he literally wants to stay positive. With all love, I actually respect that. My grandfather, prior to his death, always told my family to stay positive and smile because they at least have other things that will be a miracle. Speaking of which, I guess he was right… for the moment.
A few months past and I was already kicking it in to my new school (currently, it was close to our winter break). I made a few new friends there. Many people seemed nice. Stan was serving me my own lunch at the time. My mother had her new job herself while Brittle was a bit bitter on his own school. Good for him that the teachers in his school were strict from what I heard. My father said he was on his way to work. After he kissed us goodbye, it was the last time I saw him.
Three days later, my mother gets a call from his job hoping that they would get him on the phone. Knowing many jobs, they like giving work skippers a piece of their mind. But mom replied to them that she hasn’t seen him for three days. This is when they both filed a missing case. Since, nobody has never really seen dad in about like…. a good three days. Not even Stan and Sheryl were able to know his whereabouts. Yet, it still bugs me since they never stopped smiling. Even in a really really serious situation. I wouldn’t blame them for dad’s disappearances either however.
Here’s how things started to get strange. Dusk comes by, and I woke up with butterflies randomly flowing on my stomach. I wanted to get up and stop this eerie feeling, however, my body didn’t feel like moving, so I was stuck only able to move my head. When I blinked however. I saw a shadowy figure with red pupils glowing like a solar sun trying to flash at my face but wasn’t able to. I wasn’t even able to scream either. Just watch as it smiled at me. I then turned my head at the window and tried to go to sleep, even though it only made my stomach turn even worst. When a sudden hand gently touched my shoulder, my heart nearly skipped a beat and the only thing I heard as I felt a breath seeping down my ear was, “Sweet Dreams, lovely Madam.” Before I blacked out.
The next day came and I woked up. Without anymore flooziness. It seems to be that I was doing okay. Except, the horrible stench that was coming from my closet. It was so foul, I thought Brittle accidentally soaked and soiled his own bed again. I opened the closet and alot of burnt or rotten swishy items fall out. I was a bit horrified and disgusted. Brittle, who heard my screams, rushes and breaks into my room without permission and starts laughing.
“A soily dead designs for a soily braindead dork!” he roars out. This is the last time I have ever gotten my mood drop for a ridiculous reason as I finally screamed, “WOULD YOU GET THE HELL OUT OF MY ROOM!?”
My mom and the butlers overhears this swearing, as she storms in the room and roars, “Are you kidding me right now!? You and this vile profanity that you lash at your brother for? Why can’t he come to your room, huh!? I never complained when you enter my room!”
All I did was facepalmed at her because nobody had the time to hear her ridiculous rambling over the fact that her “precious” son has pulled a repulsive prank against me. “Do you not see what Brittle did to my closet with ALL of my good clothes that Sheryl designed for me!? It’s covered in some sort of filth now because of him! Why don’t you tell him to stop playing pranks on me!?”
“For god’s sake, Penelope! Brittle is just a kid! Why don’t you be nice to him, it’s a harmless prank and these clothes can be cleaned. Can you please can it with the horrible sister act.” She turns her back in her last sentence when I roared out, “Well can you please can-it with defending that ungrateful little brat and listen to me like a tolerant mother for once!?”
My mother turns back around, her eyes were widened in surprise and anger, as if somebody threw a item in the back of her head as a insult. “Excuse me!?” My mother slowly walks to me, “Um, am I hearing my own daughter talking back at me with such a tone!?” her voice got rougher before she calmed down thinking that she knows a way to hurt me, “Don’t touch any electricity and stay right in your room. Don’t even think about turning on the TV at night nor pay attention to any Netflix or whatever that stupid movie on-demand device it is until I call you downstairs for some family time. Since you think my actions are ungrateful, you’re grounded.” She storms out the room, taking Brittle to have a “heart-to-heart”. When that brat smiled and chuckled before being sent to have a conversation with my mom, that was my breaking point.
My heart was racing, my throat was hurting. I looked down in defeat, balding my fist. My tears were dripping on my glasses making it impossible to see. It was a everyday life that I have to face with this family to the limit that everybody was against me. I was sick of it.
“Madam Penelope?” I heard a dark toned voice and then a warm hand touching my shoulder. When I looked up, it was Stan. He was still smiling. However, it wasn’t a happy-like smile. His smile was just so fake this time. All I saw was pity, sadness, or concern. Whatever it was, I realized he wasn’t really smiling at all. He was wiping my tears, while I was sniffling.
“I am terribly sorry about this cruelty,” Stan apologetically said, “He requested us to bring him the rotten chalk liver we were saving for personal reasons. We had no idea he would play a prank that would result in a horrible outcome. For our punishment, we will redesign the clothes that we have made you. Again, we are so sorry.”
“If Brittle wasn’t born, we wouldn’t have this! All this time she’s been defending him and even to this day she treats him like a baby! She’s so less of a mother now that I just wish…” my voice cracked, I was trying to hold back my sobs but it just kept coming, I managed to finish my sentence however, but it wasn’t a smart one, “I just wish she disappears so I don’t have to pay no goddamn rules to anything!”
Stan looked at me without a single blink, he tilted his head slowly before turning his head back. “Perhaps a little bit of tea can help soothe all the trouble?” I just nodded, I spoke no more. My whole day was already as ruined as it is. Stan made a bright smile and said, “Tomorrow, we will be serving delicious cherry tea that will make you feel much much better than this current day. Sheryl and I will also try to reconsider your groundation by having a talk with your mother. Hopefully, the madam will understand us.” He said as he walks out of my room, he then stops for a second and turns his head to me. “One more thing, madam?”
I looked up at him. His smile became even different that it was just getting a bit too strange for me. While he remained smiling, the rest of his face was emotionlessly serious, he looked at me straight in his one eye and said in a most serious tone, “Becareful what you wish for.” Before he turned back and walked away.
I wasn’t really thirsty, but I just went right back to bed after that and relaxed while the argument between me and my mother was still fresh inside of my head. It’s been midnight, I haven’t been able to sleep. I ended up sweating a bit. Season hardly even changed to spring. But I somehow ended up feeling butterflies running stomach as if something was wrong, plus I was sweating for no apparent reason. I turned around, thinking if it would be possible to at least maybe look at my room a bit and believe that nothing is there. Nothing scary at the least. I hate the dark and silent alot. It’s bad enough that I have a sense of fear coming in. Unless it’s my brother’s footsteps. He mostly creeps in my room just to pull pranks on me. And not the harmless ones either. After minutes of staring at my room, I finally went back to bed, but then within a second I heard a small crash as if somebody broken a base or whatnot. I sat up again and looked around and I saw shards on the lamp. The lightbulb exploded without even being turned on. I looked around, thinking somebody is there. I wanted to scream or at least say something, but my gut is telling me not to provoke the presence. I just layed down and hope that I can sleep it away. I was fine for a few minutes and the feeling of fear was going away. But then I heard a somewhat silent but ringing sound of a scream. It got louder and louder and then….. I heard a CRASH through my window as if some force shattered it in two. My heart skipped a beat as I jerked forward and looked around some more. My eyes were widened in fear and I was suddenly shaking. My stomach was crying from the disturbance of a shocking event and cold air was blowing through my face and right arm, some parts of the glass was in my bed as I looked at the window and saw the glass completely shattered, the hole looked like a figure of a hand. I felt myself breathing hard. I was getting even more nervous. To think my life wasn’t bad enough. The worst was that the butlers weren’t there within seconds to realize it.
I was mad as hell at them. The next day I wake up to find out that my mom ended up disappearing. Pretty much, she must have been searching around the city to find my dad. Knowing her she would not stop at anything to check if my father was ending up in a affair. But my dad wouldn’t do such a thing. Probably might have been kidnapped by some jerks who want a ransom. Because he hates perverted behavior and even would delete any pictures of any male models from my phone. He sure finds a way to hack my phone to make sure nothing goes on. Stan and Sheryl were offering me and my brother some breakfast, but I rejected mines. I couldn’t get over the fact that something was horribly wrong and these two didn’t even bother to show up to see what happened. I was going to head upstairs, all the while looking at the beautiful painting of two slaves being abused by their master. Just from looking at it, those two slaves has a facial resemblance that looks JUST like Stan and Sheryl. I couldn’t see it clear because their faces were actually looking down showing that the two were working.
Stan walks to my direction calling for me and asked, “Madam, what’s wrong!? You have shown negative energetic emotions all day. Is there something you would like to talk abou-” As he reaches to my shoulder and touches it, I brushed it away abruptly, turned around and smacked him right across his face. He fell almost twelve steps back from the stairs. The sound of the smack and banging sounding like somebody tripped caught the attention of Sheryl who rushed to his aid. Stan still smiled however. But his eyes was widened in shock. He looked up at me, not realizing that was coming wondering what he did wrong. I didn’t care if he was shocked at all. My heart raced to saying something vulgar and cruel.
“Damn idiot! ‘What’s Wrong!?” I shouted out, “Did you NOT hear the loud crash that went up in my room last night!? Was it my mom’s order not to protect me from a scary figure or a thief that would have just came and take me away!? Or were you just playing it off as if nothing would happen to me!? You’re supposed to protect me! I had glass nearly cutting my face and it’s still in my bed AND in the floor of my room! It’s a damn mess and you’re just sitting there and telling me what’s wrong!?”
“Oh dear….” Both of them whispers, they looked worried and felt responsible.
“CLEAN MY DAMN ROOM UP AND SECURE THE WINDOW RIGHT NOW! Or so help me I will make sure when my parents come home I will tell them what happen and make sure they will fucking FIRE YOU!”
Shocked by the wrath roaring in my voice and lips, Stan and Sheryl answered, “Yes Madam!” and rushed into my room. Brittle stormed in the room next to the stairs afterwards. He first looked at the horrified but smiling look in their faces as they left and then angrily looked at me and shouted, “What the heck!?”
I just glared at them while they were gone. The feeling of lashing out at someone who literally loved you, helped you, and treating you as if you were a part of their family, was just like trying to get back at the people who treated you like shit for the entire time. I felt relieved honestly. It was literally my true emotion of how I felt. All I saw when I was unleashing my anger at Stan was just… my parents who never cared about me. Who only defended Brittle who was just younger than me. It felt good too.
I kinda regretted it only a few hours later. Pretty much, because there was no need to treat them like trash just like that. However, the room was clean and the window was removed. At least it was warm outside and not windy enough to blow away a few light items that I have. Stan knocked on my door suddenly and said, “Madam Penelope? Do you have a moment?” I just looked at the door. The feeling of rue was choking my own words of apologizing. Stan opened the door and came in, while I just looked away. Stan was still smiling, but this time the rest of his face is looking a bit concerned if I’m still angry at him for his part in lacking protection.
“I would like to apologize about last night. My dear sister and I were working downstairs in the basement as blacksmiths we were unable to hear the strange noises in your room. We’ve investigated the window and discovered there must’ve been a threat and we didn’t know it. Other than that, we sincerely felt responsible for the damage and lack of guarding that night. And for night we seriously apologize.”
The moment he said that, it made me feel better. Maybe I was right to scold them like I did. Maybe I wasn’t. Then again. I was a bit stressed from last night AND from my mother yesterday.
“Speaking of which,” Stan continued, “To make you feel better, my sister made this coat for you from the bottom of her heart.” He pulls out a medium sized but a very heavy box and opens it. It was a beautiful dark and leather waistcoat. It was so fashionable. Maybe old-school, but, it was as if Sheryl literally put her effort in it. I took the coat, got up, and tried it on. It made me feel happy in some strange way. “This is cool. I like it!” I said to him.
Stan’s smile was polite and rejoiced as he said, “It’s also very warm too, Madam. So warm, it’s as if you were never even born yet.” His smile was a bit delighted. Kinda creepy, as if he was hiding something and won’t tell it. But the coat kinda distracted me from even bothering to know how this was made. I dismissed him after that and put the coat in my dresser. Things were starting to go well at that time, until six minutes later, the little spoiled Brittle comes with a water gun and squirts my glasses off making it fly to a wall. My vision was blurry as I don’t know what, that it was difficult to find my glasses. He made it more difficult while he kept on squirting it in my face when I told him to stop. I picked up my glasses, finally but when I opened my eyes, the entire damn vision became nothing but somebody broke the camera screen. He stopped and discovered that glasses are broken now and just laughed. I was already fed up with rage. He breaks in my room, AGAIN, he wettens my hair and he broke my glasses. And when I tell my parents, they’ll try to find a way to defend him because “C’mon now! He’s just a little boy!”
“WILD LITTLE BRAT!!!!” I stormed to him and shoved him. He pretended I threw him to the ground, even though I didn’t put much force on him and I continued, “Always up to messing with me, do you know how much these glasses cost!?” He tries to cry, it caught Sheryl’s attention again as she runs to my room. But I grabbed him by his shirt, knowing that he was faking so he can ruin my life. “LOOK AT ME AND TELL ME THESE GLASSES WERE NOT EXPENSIVE!!” He finally stopped his act and tried to fight me off. He had almost equal strength as me and it was gonna get physical. “Get off of me, loser! That’s why mommy doesn’t like you!” He shouts out. I wanted to punch the little bastard dead in the face! But it’ll be too easy, and I just shouted as much words as I can to him, “You’re just a little bastard who thinks you’re king! You just don’t know when to stop don’t you!”
“Now now! You two, enough with the fighting!” Sheryl runs towards us and tried to break the fight. I immediately let go of Brittle and just punched her instead. She falls back and gives the same surprised but smiling look at me as Stan did when I slapped him. “You said you were gonna keep him from bothering me again!!!”
Sheryl was shocked and also felt even more guilt. She indeed recalled that Stan told her to keep Brittle from breaking in my room ever again. “Dearity….. I…. I apologize.”
Brittle aggressively got up and said, “You don’t have to listen to her. She’s not your master!”
“Uh! Yes I am!” I responded to the little runt.
“Master Brittle. Everyone is our master. We are meant to serve everyone. It’s a fair share.” Sheryl intervened. There was a small part of relief that she was on my side as I continued for her, “Damn straight! And the one rule I told them was to keep your ass off of my room! You still don’t listen. If I can tell them to roast you for dinner tomorrow then I would! Now get out before I put myself in jail for murder!”
Brittle was shocked by my words. Thinking that I was joking, he tries to get the last laugh was too choked up to even make a good comeback. All he can shout out was “EVIL WITCH!” before he stormed off.
Sheryl followed Brittle hoping that she can make him feel better. I was feeling more and more relieved.
Nighttime comes, and trust me when I say things started getting from bad to worst. I was already in a deep sleep. What woke me up was a sudden scream. The scream was almost like the cliche child scream movies and television shows. Not only did I sat up quickly, but my heart was beating very very rapidly. I’ve already suffered a series of dreams, each are like evil present events always happening. Was this mansion a curse and are Stan and Sheryl demons or something? Because no demon should be trusted. Sometimes I think it’s a cosplay. Possibly to practice for halloween or something, but who knows. But as scared as I was, I was already getting sick of it. I just went downstairs to get me a cup of glass water to at least calm my worries down. But when I came back upstairs…. I saw the picture of the master and the two slaves. But this time, it’s different. The female slave that was working had a knife in her back, and she was bleeding everywhere. It wasn’t just her back either, her whole body and clothing was covered in leaking and stained blood. She had cuts everywhere in her body and her eye looks either removed or stabbed. She was lying in the floor dead. Meanwhile the male slave is being strangled, tears are running down his eyes as he looks like he’s struggling to free himself from the master, with his angry expression, is choking him the death. The worst was that there was a shadow like figure watching as the scene takes place. It had very very long hair, a tail, and I, think horns. I can’t describe much, however, he has glowing dark purple and red snake pupil like eyes. I was disturbed, that picture was never like this when I first saw it. I rushed back to bed to try to wash that image of the two dead slaves out of my head.
The next day finally arrives and Stan and Sheryl made me dinner. They weren’t much concerned about any of my family members’ whereabouts. What was served was… very odd. And was kinda unique and creative. It was meat that nobody has ever tried. Even though it looked and smelled like turkey, it was shaped very differently. Almost like a human but with missing testicles and head.
“I hope you enjoy our service madam!” Stan smiled politely to me. I tried the meat in favor since I like meat. I realize the taste was very different compared to Turkey or ham, but very delicious. “Wow! This is good!” I said, “What did you make in this?”
“We call this the Brittleback Dish!” Stan chuckled a bit. Not only was that name stupid, but his smiled told me it was a joke or something. I started getting a bit irritated.
“Really?” I said, “Of all the names, you call it ‘Brittleback’? How ridiculous! Such as how the loud noise was erupting in my room. Like a child screaming! Are you going to tell me you didn’t inspect the noise from there either?”
Stan, still with the smile again, had his eyes widened and his hand placed in his chest, “Oh dear. Another threat while we were finishing our errands again?”
“Oh no! Not really, it wasn’t like it could have been me screaming and not being checked to see if I was okay or anything,” I spoke sarcastically, “This is the third time something has happened in this house in the nighttime! For this! I want you to take down that picture of the man and the two African slaves!” It’s best to punish them by word instead of physically for me. It made me feel a bit comfortable. And now that we don’t know where Brittle was that day, I didn’t have to lash out like I did.
Stan, however was too shocked, he looked at Sheryl, who did the same thing Stan did. Opened her eyes wide and said, “But Madam… that is my story. I thought it’d be interesting to illustrate it.”
“Yeah, well I don’t like it! I want you to take it down immediately.”
Sheryl was a bit saddened and shocked even though she still kept a smiling face, she then looks at me and says, “Very well then. I will have it removed by tomorrow.”
Stan nods in agreement and looks at me. He still smiled, however, it wasn’t sad or shock or anything. It was getting seriously creepy. Almost sinister. As he said to me, “It would be interesting if you would look at it one more time, madam.” I dismissed both of them afterwards. As I went upstairs, the painting of the two slaves was back to the way it looked when I first saw it. I was relieved a bit, despite the image of them dying was still in my head forever.
At the same time, I didn’t understand why they would able to keep and straight smile. However, it’s a relief they never resisted and they look more forgiving. Or at least that was how I saw it until that frightening moment.
It was nighttime again. Thing seemed to calm down. But I still manage to wake up. I just got up, thinking and wondering has my family ever returned? I was starting to get concerned. But maybe they’ll be back tomorrow. I was also worried and prepared if something is about to scare me again.
I went back to bed, hoping that no more of this paranormal events come back, sleeping it off. As I rest my eyes, nothing more happened. Not until, I felt a really bad rash in my leg. It was irritating, it was itchy to the limit after I kept scratching it a few times, it's starts hurting and burning. Some parts were swelling up like chicken pots, acne and zits. I was rubbing my legs hoping it would stop..... but then I felt a pop, and no signs of liquid or blood was felt. Instead, I felt a crawl coming down. I glanced around, knowing that something didn't seem right. I put on my glasses, uncover the blankets, and my confused face turned to ultimate shock.
BUGS!!!
Lots and Lots of bugs! Coming out of my boiling newly growing acne skin. Pretty much growing out of them! Horrified, I scream very very loud! Trying to slap them, brush them and get them away from me! And quickly got from my bed. I ran to try to find the butlers as I cry for help, but I was so distracted by the sight of the bugs coming out of my legs to the limit I lost balance and fell down the stairs. 12 flights!
I felt weakened with pain and agony that I slowly got up, only to suddenly hear disturbing noises of crying, two or more people crying. When I look up and see that picture again. It suddenly faded drastically. It wasn’t the same picture of them being abused while working, or the picture of them getting killed by their abusive master. It was the tables turning. This time, I saw the servants, clearly Stan and Sheryl, with blue bodies, a tail, and horns, as they are smiling looking at their now mutilated, dead master in the ground.
My heart raced so fast, and the sounds of the crying did not help anything. The cries fade to laughter. Which was ultimately malformed. I started to shake and suddenly flinch when I heard something crack or break. When I turned around to the wall, it was scratched like a knife cut through it. The scratches was formed as letters and it was saying, “YOU’RE NEXT”. I screamed out of my lungs and I sprinted out of the door, outside. My racing heart was choking up my throat and uncontrollable tears were running down my eyes. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. I was hearing more laughter as the door made a loud shut on me. I ran to the side of the house to see if I can find the butlers as I cried for help. But when I make it there, I see the giant doghouse. And almost six red glowing eyes looked at me. My heart skipped a beat and my already recovered looking legs were shaking.
Hell, I almost pissed myself looking at it as I sprinted to the other side. When I make it there, three dog barks were heard. And they were also distorted as well, My foot then gets caught on something and made me fall in my face. My glasses fell off of me. I try to get it and get up but then I felt something digging in the skin of my limbs. My left hand reaches to my glasses and as I put them on, I saw each limb of the grass grabbing me and trying to come inside of my skin. I was screaming and crying for it to come off as I pulled very hard getting up. Some of the grass was pulled and I somehow manage to get up.
I rushed into one of them latter looking fences that is attached to the house, and climbed on it. I slowed down after I was at least a few heights away from the trees that seemed to calm down. I was crying to myself. This is becoming even more of a nightmare than it ever was. I can’t believe this is actually real. This is actually happening to me. I’m scared out of my mind. Hoping that it was nothing but a dream.
Suddenly, I heard a finger snap. And before I could react the entire thing I was climbing in was starting to fall. I lost my balance and landed on my head. Possibly cracked a skull, none the less everything went black like a off switch.
When I came too, I suddenly realize everything was very warm. It was as if I was in a cabin or something with a warm fire. There was a fire however, but the place looked like it was a tool room. There were alot of tools hooked to a wall, and then there was a table. I saw three chains there hanging from the ceiling. What was supposed to be warm was actually an incinerator. And the smell wasn’t good either. It smelled like stains of blood. I tried to move, but when I looked down, my body was being tied into a chair. The chair was very royal looking but the skeleton hands were attached and were gripping my arms and legs so tight that I couldn’t even get out. Some kinda pinched my skin. My heart was racing again as I heard crazy and maniacal laughter. I was looking around. Afraid.
“What’s going on!? What is this!?” I shouted. I then heard a deep voice laugh. With that voice, it was very familiar. “Stan?” I said recognizing that voice. I then saw a figure behind in the shadows with yellow glowing eyes. It stepped forward to the light, finally showing himself. It was Stan! I couldn’t believe my eyes, it couldn’t be a butler that would do such a thing and tie me up like this. However, he still made that polite grin in his face as he looked at me.
“If it isn’t a surprise! Good evening, Madam!” he said. His sister, Sheryl came forward shortly afterward grinning as well. My eyes were widened with rage. “What is this!? Is this some form of a joke!? Untie me from here or I will make sure my father will get you fired when he gets home!”
“Aww. You still believe your parents will come back to save you?” Stan said. He acted more sarcastically than that of honesty, “You didn’t seem to care much about your family as much as they did for you.”
Stan extends his arm and raises it up high, flames started igniting a few feet from the ground. Something raises up from the flames, as the fire fades away I saw three corpses I can be able to identify to this day. Two of which were naked and hanging from a wooden cross. Within a few seconds of looking closely at it. I realized... it was the bodies of my own family! My father’s stomach was torn open, his intestines, eyes, teeth and tongue were violently removed, and so were his fingers and toes. My mother’s entire skin was shredded from every inch of her body that I can only see her meat. And Brittle….. he was even more unrecognizable than my mother. He has no meat or skin in his body but his bones were newly exposed and not in it’s right places.
I was shaking rapidly, I started feeling sick through my stomach and throat. I couldn’t even believe this is real. That they’re really dead. The two people I trusted from the bottom of my heart has killed my parents. I look up at Stan who turns to me. He was smiling again. However, it was more than you can imagine. His smile was more fainted, twisted and emotionless. His eyes were glowing a bit at the same time. It was as if he had no sense of humanity left in him. With his evil chuckle he said to me, “You know. I had never had such a strict and abusive master in a long time.”
I was shocked. Thinking this was my fault that my family was dead. That these two were getting revenge on me for what I did to them for the days since I met them. “However…” Stan walks towards me, “Your behavior towards those around you in this mansion has impressed us! It would be a shame if you took back everything you did because you at least putted on a show for us. So here’s what we’re going to do.” Stan opens his hand and a blue flame ignites creating a piece of paper with words in it, I didn’t care to read everything however there was a signature to sign in. My right arm was freed by the skeleton fingers that was opening itself.
“This treaty will grant your parents and little brother a chance to be escorted into paradise without any forms of torture. However, by signing this, you will also have to make a deal for you to become our master for the eternity until we are of no more use for you. However, if you decline, not only will we have to kill you, your family will definetly be sent to the pit of fire while you on the other hand will live in paradise in our granting. That is, if you really don’t care about your own family enough to let them rest in peace.” Stan gives me the pen and continues, “Take your time. It’s best to think it out.”
I looked at my family once more. The look of their own corpse has showed me that they’re suffering because of my spoiled behavior. The feeling of declining this offer would not only get me killed, but I will also feel as if I betrayed them and never gave a damn. I mean, they were a pain in the ass. But it was never enough for them to get me to wish they suffer or die. Especially not Brittle. That’s going too far. I DON’T wanna die. But it seems like I was already dead the moment I entered this damn hellish mansion.
I decided to write my signature of the treaty. The pen started to move and slice my arm, drawing blood on itself while I was rapidly bleeding. And then it smashes itself on the paper, splattering the blood on it.
“You have made a good and intelligent choice, Madam.” Stan said with the once again twisted and evil smile, “We have already made your dressing appointments for you to wear in the morning. Other than that….. SWEET DREAMS.” He touches my hand lightly before piercing his claws on me slowly dragging his hand from my elbows to my wrist down. My dizziness was distracting me from the pain and agony coming from my hand.
I couldn’t remember what happened afterwards. It was all so sudden, however. Everything looked back a big normal except, all I saw was clouds and I have this huge cursed tattoo in my right arm now. It’s been three days since then. I’m more alone, isolated, and it doesn’t feel like peace either. I’ll never be able to see the sun again either. Stan and Sheryl are still being polite to me to this day. At least they stopped the paranormal tricks at the night. But I still have yet to know what they’ll do next.
These two butlers are literally demons. And ironically my fate was sealed when I have entered here. I should just go downstairs to get some things to make me at least a bit cheery. In the end, what’s gonna make me cheer up anymore?