NARRATIVE POINT OF VIEW
Bearing the void of the night, the clanging of chains ricochets across the unpainted walls of the hall making her agitated even more than before. The darkness envelopes them both as they made their way across, he stopped and held the lamp up high. Agatha took a deep breath, a rookie mistake as the smell of rotting flesh pierced her conniving nose.
She wanted to cover her face using her hands, but she knew it wouldn’t make a difference. The Viscount gazed at the clock atop that door, a perfect juncture to clean up. Right there, he opened the door widely making her retch in repugnance.
He chuckled, “didn’t you say you’ll do anything?” he asked as he pulled the chains making her follow coercively. Agatha covered her face, she was trembling knowing what rests on the floor. The Viscount trudged towards the switch, turning the chandelier on and illuminating the rest of the room. He calls it the death vault. A fancy wing in his mansion with carpeted floor and state of the art paintings hanging around, it has gigantic windows, overseeing the tall crowd of acacia trees outside.
The tangerine hue of the chandelier light shone broadly on a pile of rotting bodies situated underneath it, it was his haven of dire rapture.
“Agatha” he called looking at her, “clean this room, burn the bodies outside”
She froze at his command, she cannot even set an eye on it, let alone clean that mess up. The Viscount took a step closer, he took the chains off of her, holding her hand gently to bring it away from her face.
“Or you’ll be the one under turf” he brought emphasis on his last words. Agatha bit her lips and with teary eyes, she nodded. She took a deep breath using her mouth to avoid smelling the pungent scent, she then slowly eyed it, it took her a couple of tries before she’s able to get a complete look.
Surprisingly enough, the bodies looked neat. Maybe it’s due to the fact that the room looked decent and the absence of microorganism feasting on it. Plus, they looked dried out making it less freaky. Agatha slowly made her way, she didn’t even notice that she’s free from the chains because of the aberrant situation she’s dealing with.
She swallowed her remaining fear, put on a brave face and stared directly at the deceased man she was talking to the other day, “Corden…” she murmured looking straightly at him, the blood she saw the other day has completely dried and is nowhere to be seen. She eyed the rest of them, and one naked lady just brought her to a calm trepid, Lady Irene looked dry as ever, her usual glow has vanished and she just hoped that she got to bring it to the afterlife.
Viscount Claude sat on a couch by the corner, he dropped the chain to catch her attention and it successfully did. She flinched and looked back at him. “Viscount…” she mumbled.
“Are you just going to stand there?” he asked with his left brow risen. Agatha shook her head, quickly tying her hair and taking the supplies scattered beside her, she frantically took the besom and used the end to poke one of the bodies.
“They turned into wood” she said to herself, gaping out of surprise. She took a step closer, poking it this time using her finger. The texture was smooth as silk, but the feeling was wildly bizarre. Maybe because they have their eyes open, or maybe that’s just the effect of getting their blood drained that it turned them into instant cadaver, like humungous dried fish.
She then boldly extended her hand, lifting one of the guards with all her strength. It was surprisingly light as a feather, by that time, she’s more baffled than scared. The Viscount watched in amusement, he had his hand on his chin, pillaring the handle of the loveseat he uttered “The sun will be shining soon, you don’t want people to see the smoke, don’t you?”
Agatha gazed at him with wide eyes, she nodded repeatedly and started doing her first task with a clenched jaw.
‘I will get away here soon’ she said to herself biting her lips out of choler.
The lights flickered as the people inside rustle around, it’s a hectic night for that hotel. A couple number of nobles from other states checked in due to the unveiling of the porch that will take place in a couple of weeks. And the one who volunteered to bid greetings was Lord Castledow, hoping to establish political connections. It’s a night filled with parleying, it made him forget for a moment. He made his way upstairs alone since servants aren’t allowed in that section.
His wide figure and eroding hairline stood out from afar, the man from the end of the hall clearly knew its him. He mindlessly made his way across only to be blocked by that man, wearing an oversized coat with a looming figure. The Lord felt vexed as he saw the youthful face of the man standing before him.
“What do you want?” he asked furrowing his grey bushy brows.
“Lord Castledow…” the baritone voice of the young man made the old man’s eyes roll. He’d always wish to invent something that can turn back time to return to his prime. “I’m here to help you”
Lord Castledow mockingly sneered “Why would I need your help? You’re a man unbeknownst to me” he stated as he walked past him.
“your daughter hasn’t been home since the banquet of the Casanova but it seems like you pay no mind to this matter, perhaps you’re the one who caused her disappearance?”
He stopped in his tracks, his sweat formed bullets as the beat of his heart began soaring louder. He looked back with a horrified expression. ‘how did he know?’ he asked himself.
He made sure that not a single report about Lady Irene’s disappearance were to be publicized, but this young man clearly knew what he’s talking about. “W-who are you?” he stuttered at the fear that his secrets might spread.
The tall man stepped closer “You do not need to fear me my lord, as I’ve said, I by no means will try to mess with you. I just need you to cooperate and I’ll make sure whatever you’re hiding will remain hidden.” He said showing humility, he bowed before the noble and flashed a smile “please, call me Ezekiel”
Agatha dropped on the grassy field breathing loudly as if her life depends on it, she stared across the wide field, “I can’t believe I did that” she said in between her breathing. She stared at the sky, the morning is approaching as the color of the night and the warmth of the sun intertwines. The cold breeze flicked her face feeding her enough energy to stand up. She eyed the ashy ground. Smoking lightly as the after effect of burning bodies. She stared at the blackened bones, “I’m sorry” she uttered.
She gazed back at his manor, and there he was standing on the veranda of the second-floor drinking who-knows-what from a goblet wearing a cheeky smirk. She smiled, hiding her distaste for the monster who enslaved her. “Just you wait, Viscount. I will get out of here” she thought as she waved at him enthusiastically.