The Count Di Montez walked into the study room, behind, followed by his butler carrying a set of files. Although multiple lanterns were on the desk and asked after a soft bow: “Sir, should I send someone to tidy the study?”
“No.” the count answered before he reached the desk to inspect the files. He raised his head to add: “This is temporary, keeping it clean is enough.”
He took a seat, then looked at his butler. “Those are all the files of the residents from five years ago?”
“Yes. Sir.”
“You can go then.”
The chief manservant stood there, defying his master order. The hair on his face masked his intentions, but the count already knows what it means when his servant didn’t do what he was ordered. He examined him hopelessly before he demanded an explanation. ” What’s on your mind?”
The servant seemed hesitating, but the assuring look of his master gave him the courage to spill his worry. He used a careful tone to reveal what was in his mind:
“Excuse me, sir, are you sure that we let that man roaming freely in the manor and the village? Our permission. Our top worries now are this popped up a new problem. We must find out what is this thing spreading fear and chaos inside the village. How does it get inside through your barrier?”
“But, Sir…”
“I don’t want to hear more until we identified him.” The count said as a strange idea walloped his mind. Perhaps, the preparator didn’t pass the barrier.
The Butler understood that there is no further discussion on the matter, he has just withdrawn silently, but a call from the Count stopped him “Seaben… I am thirsty.”
Seaben descended to the hallway, not very satisfied with his master’s growing indifference to the activities of Mr. Hendrickson. He ordered the first maid he encountered to tend to the Count’s needs, and then he attended the anticipated meeting with the new potential employee. The estate had lost one worker. He needed to fill up the void before the young lady wakes up.
When he met the candidate for the post, it crossed his mind that maybe the young lady will like to feast for her first time on this person than the ugly maid that the manor had lost.
He asked him for his name. A very important part of Seaben routine. Since names were related to identity and are gates to the self. Depending on it, he chose the ones who were suitable to work under his control.
The answer was fast and polite, but when the young man didn’t mention his family name, Seaben realized that this is the famous doctor who settled here a few months ago.
He thought to himself that people with an unknown origin make an optimal offering
He asked him again why he wanted to join the manor:
– His lordship accepted me when the world had rejected me. I wish to repay him.
What a shallow lie. All of them came to the manor on the promise of a better life, a better opportunity, and the dream to go outside one day. But it was a smart answer compared to the others before him.
The chief manservant sat behind his desk, he dipped the quill in the inkwell in front of him and said without a delay: “You will start working on the next full moon, we will first teach you the basics, after that, you get a proper assignment and you need to sign some papers before you can move here permanently.”
***
For an indefinite reason, Chew’s death has a hard impact on Rokah.
His movements became slow, going through his routine seemed meaningless. He felt like there was a glued monster working to bind him to his room. The pictures of the mutilated body kept floating between his eyes.
In this life, He has seen a lot of corpses, yet he was still weak when he sees a corps of people he has interacted with. Persons with whom he weaved a small thread of connection. He was afraid to confront Madam Linda, to offer her his condolences, or at least to pretend to, maybe because he felt he was responsible for her loss.
He stood up alerted when He smelled the scent of the Aractanthrope behind the door. It was mixed with the intoxicating odor of blood. He opened the door to see him carrying something wrapped in linen fabric on his left shoulder.
The big man placed the load on the floor before he sat on the only chair in the room, then he asked: “it is better that you have accomplished your side of the deal.”
Rokah said while unloading the fresh meat from the fabric that wrapped it, “the infiltration was a success. I will start working there the next full moon.”
“Then you were inside the manor. Did you notice something wrong there? Anything?”
Rokah shifted his full body to face him. The Aractanthrope was indifferent to the entire incident. Of course, he was. Mongrel’s life and death didn’t mean anything to him. Rokah clutched his fist, responding to his questions with another question:” have you heard about the death of one of the manor maids? Was it you?”
The large man stood up, causing the chair to fall on the floor. He reached to Rokah’s neck and lifted him a few inches from the ground, constricting his grip with each passing moment.
The doctor’s back screamed with pain after he got crushed to the ground. He was gasping for breath and started coughing heavily. The Aractanthrope told him, using the same arrogant tone: “I am being nice, very nice by respecting the conditions you have set, don’t forget that I am not obligated to do so. And you are in no place to question me.”
He aimed at the door and before he opened it, he appended:” do not ever forget your place or this miserable life of yours will end painfully.”
Rokah waited for him until he pounded on the door. He waited for the echoes of his footsteps to disappear before getting up on his foot. He confirmed the reason behind the unreasonable aggression this man had shown for simple interaction, not just now but before, too. He was insecure about his disability, and he acted aggressively to hide his insecurity.
Working with this kind of individual is wearing. That’s why the thought of killing the man roamed the back of Rokah’s mind and was growing with each passing encounter. But in being honest, this behavior wasn’t what ticked Rokah off. It was the discrimination the Aractanthrope has shown on each occasion was that irked him the most.
He made him remember his hopelessness. He made him remember his inferiority. Which made the innate desire to kill this man grow in his heart with each passing encounter. He was going to show him what it meant, to lose to someone he disdained, and he will be sure to make his death very slow and painful.
Before the sunrise, Rokah made his resolve to meet Madam Linda. His heart was beating frenzy, His chest drumming hardly as if he were preparing to start a war. He wanted to see Madam Linda, to give her more than condolences; to give her what he thought was her revenge, her salvation from those endless massacres.
And there, In front of the gate, his eyes scanned the hordes of mourners looming in and out from her tiny room that was annexed to the inn. He felt superior to them all because he could offer this old lady who lost everything more than words of pity.
He approached with a slow pace, searching for her small body between all those mourners. He sighted her leaning against the wall, with open eyes like a lifeless doll that lost every bit of courage to live. He forgot the words that he had prepared to tell her.
In that instant, Madam Linda trapped in the flood of sorrow was a reflection of himself, a mirror to his soul reflecting his inner turmoil, his losses, and his faded memories of his grandmother’s face when the blood splattered on her dead body, the same memorable eyes and the smell of wet soil.
